Julien Blanc, also known as RSD Julien, is a self-described “executive dating coach” seemingly without a conscience. In expensive seminars held in hotels around the world the Real Social Dynamics instructor teaches men to “Make Girls BEG To Sleep With You After SHORT-CIRCUITING Their Emotional And Logical Mind,” as his breathless promo material puts it.
What this means in practice? Manipulation, mind-fuckery and in some cases outright physical assault — none of which he makes any attempts to hide.
GamerGate provides a rare example of rats climbing aboard a sinking ship.
As the “movement” stews in its own conspiratorial rage, a small army of reactionary misogynists, sensing opportunity, have joined the cause. Sure, right-wingers like Adam Baldwin and Milo Yiannopoulos have long been Gaters, but it’s only in recent days that they’ve been joined by some of the better-known manospherians, from angry lawyer and juice seller Mike Cernovich to the charming Roosh V.
The latest manosphere douchebag to take up the GamerGate cause is the lovely and talented Matt Forney, who has promptly claimed for himself the mantle of GamerGate leader and hero.
Pussy inflation during Germany’s Weimar Republic was so great that cat owners were forced to transport their pussies in wheelbarrows.
Monty Python has a famous series of sketches featuring a confused Robin Hood wannabe named Dennis Moore, who ultimately (spoiler alert) ends up stealing so much from the rich that he renders them poor. Confronted by this fact, Moore (played by John Cleese) is momentarily dumbfounded. “Blimey,” he says. “This redistribution of wealth is trickier than I thought.”
Over in the Red Pill Subreddit one fella is having a similarly difficult time trying to understand what’s gone wrong with what he sees as the proper distribution of, well, pussy.
Yeah, well you’re a slut anyway, you stupid bunch of grapes.
Who knew Aesop’s Fables was a pickup bible?
I assume you’re all familiar with Aesop’s story of the fox and the grapes: A fox wants some grapes, but can’t reach them. He walks off in a huff, sniffing that the grapes are probably sour anyway. The moral: “Any fool can despise what he can not get.”
The moral that pickup guru Heartiste draws from the story is a little different. As he sees it, the fox is a super cool alpha male who’s come up with an awesome way to put those slut grapes in their place.
A little realization hit me while I was watching videos about #GamerGate recently. MRAs and #GamerGaters really seem to enjoy depicting themselves as cartoon villains. Above, the skull-in-a-Koolaid-pitcher mascot of MRA videoblogger Bane666au.
Below, a screencap from a video by Mundane Matt, one of the movers and shakers behind the whole #GamerGate thing.
Pubic louse. One of many creatures that Xsplat is worse than.
There are a lot of good reasons why the words “creepy” and “expat” end up together so often. But sometimes the word “creepy” really isn’t strong enough.
Take the latest post on Random Xpat Rantings, the blog of an especially creepy 50-something expat living in Bali. “Xplat’s” posts are almost always skin-crawlingly awful, but he’s really outdone himself with a sexually explicit ode to cross-generational, er, “romance” titled “The value of being the center of religious devotion.”
He’s not big on self-awareness, this guy.
He starts off with this doozy:
Many people, men included, can’t seem to wrap their minds around why on earth a man would date a teenager 30 years younger than himself.
No, I think pretty much everyone knows why you’re “dating” a teenager – in a country with a per-capita income one-fifteenth that of the United States.
An 18 year old is capable of extreme crushes, and can be brought into a religious reverie of constant devotion towards her man.
Like I said, he’s not big on self-awareness.
Especially if she’s given regular doses of intense sex. Intense physically, erotically, emotionally, violently, romantically, exhibitionously, and any other ly. Just intense experience in which it feels as if you share the same emotional and physical worlds.
Exhibitionously? (Not a real word.) Violently?
After some vaguely Buddhist pseudo-profundities on the nature of “love,” he launches into a grotesque and explicit discussion of how the young woman he calls “N18” pleasures him sexually “with frenzied devotion.” We’ll just skip past that and move on to this:
I am the center of her world, and when we are together you will see her spend all her attention on trying to make me happy. I don’t dole out love constantly, but she relishes each burst of it, and patiently waits around for the next dose.
His hot-and-cold approach to doling out “love” is of course a classic abuser tactic.
This is not just a matter of blow jobs on command. This is loving devoted passionate blow jobs.
That’s why an older man would date an 18 year old. Because they make excellent devoted sex slaves.
I’m speechless.
Even after four years of writing about the “manosphere” I’m still amazed and appalled by the ways these guys manage to outdo themselves in awfullness.
Hat of choice for the discerning Men’s Rights Activist
Men’s Rights Activists have become known, not without reason, as belligerent assholes whose main forms of “activism” consist of harassment and threats.
One bold Men’s Rights Redditor known as El Rellok thinks he’s come up with a way to counteract this perception and deliver a powerful men’s-rightsty message at the same time.
He wants MRAs to send feminists … pictures of bloody feathers. No, really.
Now, to most people, getting a bloody feather in your email inbox would seem to be the digital equivalent of having a bloody horse’s head left in your bed. But in El Rellok’s world it is a rational and reasonable way to express “outrage” at feminist evil, and anyone who might possibly think otherwise is by definition unreasonable.
Let’s let him explain, because I certainly can’t explain how sending pictures of bloody feathers to someone you hate could be construed as anything but threatening:
If you’re a straight guy looking for “fapping” material, the internet is your friend. It’s awash in freely available pictures of naked women of every size, shape, color, age, or hairstyle you prefer. And if you want more than pictures, the internet is happy to oblige, offering up videos featuring women of every description engaging in every sex act you can imagine, and then some.
You might think this would be enough.
But for some straight dudes, it evidently isn’t. They don’t just want to look at the mind-bogglingly enormous selection of women out there who have agreed to pose naked, or even perform explicit sex acts, on camera.
No, they also want to look at women who haven’t agreed to have their nude photos put on the internet. Hence the popularity of “ex-girlfriend” or “revenge porn” sites, filled with pictures that are (or at least purport to be) of ex-girlfriends who never wanted the pictures they shared with their then-boyfriends posted for the world to see.
Over in the Men’s Right’s subreddit, one new Social Injustice Warrior is weary, worn down by fighting the Bad Fight against the “Sarkeesian feminists” on Twitter. And what better way to convey one’s weariness than with a melodramatic monologue?
I don’t usually bother to read the comments on Chateau Heartiste; making it through Heartiste’s own florid yet turgid prose is exhausting enough. But after skimming a recent post of his on the increasing historical fatness of British women, I happened to glance down at the comments, only to see a discussion of the comparative anatomy of female humans and deer that was so odd and creepy I felt obligated to bring it to you all.
Brace yourself, because the following might just ruin your breakfast:
Ewwwwww.
I’m pretty sure that guy’s hunting license should be taken away from him. And if there were sex licenses for human beings, well, all three of these guys should lose those as well.
