We Hunted The Mammoth
By David Futrelle
The misogynistic men I write about on this blog — whether they classify themselves as perpetually dateless incels or “slayer” PUAs — are forever claiming that dating in the Western world, and in the United States in particular, is worse than ever, by which they generally mean that the women they think they’re entitled to seem to want nothing to do with them.
By David Futrelle
Eventually, it seems, every single far-right nitwit in the United States will be fighting with every other far-right nitwit. Last week, we looked at the miniature civil war that broke out between “crying Nazi” Christopher Cantwell and the boys at the Daily Stormer. Today, let’s take a look at another name from this blog’s past: Davis Aurini.
By David Futrelle
The idea that women secretly, or not so secretly, want to be raped isn’t exactly a new idea, and it’s one that remains popular among the sort of men who think that rape laws are just too damn strict.
By David Futrelle
The lady-hating wannabe ladykillers who call themselves Red Pillers love to trash talk cats and those who love them, forever “warning” feminists that if they don’t change their ways, and pronto, they’ll end up living their last years alone, surrounded by cats.
By David Futrelle
Pickup artists and Men’s Rights Activists and other reactionary misogynists love to claim that their retrograde ideas about human “mating strategy” have been proven 100% awesome and correct by SCIENCE. By SCIENCE, of course, they generally mean a simplified version of evolutionary psychology based on “just so stories” about our human ancestors and assorted studies of animals that supposedly prove the eternal truth that alphas rule and betas drool.
By David Futrelle
Last week I treated you to a surprisingly heartfelt, if still ridiculous, poem from an MRA who was trying to win me over to his side. Turns out he’s not the only manospherean who thinks he can pull off poetry. The exuberantly racist, woman-hating pickup artist who calls himself Heartiste — as overconfident in his literary abilities as always — recently treated his blog readers to a short burst of what he called “High T-kus” — that is “High Testosterone Haikus.”
By David Futrelle
Now, I don’t really understand dating sims, and I’ve never played one, but I nonetheless think it’s safe to say that no other title in the genre is worse or more cringeworthy than Super Seducer, a choose-your-own adventure video game guide to pickup artistry put together by Richard La Ruina, an honest-to-goodness, sort-of-well-known, professional pickup guru who actually makes a living running expensive “bootcamps” for hapless wannabe lady killers. It’s scheduled to come out in a few days on Steam.
By David Futrelle
Great headlines — like the New York Post’s legendary page-one shocker, “Headless Body in Topless Bar” — grab the reader’s attention instantly but leave enough unsaid that hapless news junkies feel compelled to click the link or buy the tabloid because they need to know the rest of the story.
By David Futrelle
Our old friend Heartiste, the Nazoid pickup artist with the penchant for overwrought prose, has penned a short paean to the alleged joys of “going commando” — that is, not wearing underwear. It is … something.
By David Futrelle
That /pol/ campaign to smear the anti-fascist left with fake memes suggesting AntiFas support domestic violence against women, children, and the elderly? The one that I and others exposed yesterday as nothing more than a political dirty trick?
