The previous content of this post and its comments have been deleted for the sake of a far more important long-term project:
Archives for September 2012
Dita von Teese inspired photo of Shibari or Kinbaku art
[For an update, please see: Lemons to Lemonade Documentary – Ed]
The photo is courtesy of reader, commenter, post contributor, and 41-yr young mother of three (here and here, too), “SSS.” It was taken by a local professional photographer with an interest in expanding her portfolio to include artsy nudes. Though given permission to use her full name, a mere reference is sufficient. The photo serves to kick off the theme.
I wonder how many who saw that first, before having any idea of the context, formed an impression about SSS largely based on various societal “norms,” ideological conditioning, and/or their own experiences. The prejudgment could even be “good” or “bad” which is to say, existentially baseless either way. The fact is, you don’t know anything about her.
But if you read about her life, values, and ideas in those posts and comments linked, does it change your initial impression? How about more data? See here, written by someone who knows her.
There is a woman that longs for a good, strong, dominant man. She lives in the middle of fly-over country and it seems she has her head screwed on right. She has taken the Red Pill and is tired of encountering wussy men.
Everything outside of your (subjective) self is an object. My hands are subjects, to me. To you, they’re objects. We all account for objects all the time. We regard, treat them, value them in different ways in different times, places, contexts. We form ideas and judgments about objects. We trade objects and we engage in trade with objects. We depend on many objects and many objects depend on us.
But these are all choices over circumstances within the ebbs and flows of life. We never have the luxury of taking some objects for granted, even inanimate ones—which is why routine maintenance against decay and wear is prudent.
Expressed or implied by hard-line Feminist ideology is that to sexually “objectify” any woman is to sexually “objectify” all of them. But, prima facie, some men and women desire such explicit sexual objectification between them. Demanded is that such relationships or trade—such as dollars for skin, in pornography or prostitution—be condemned or even outlawed by state force.
I’m a person. I’m a female. I have feelings. I demand validation.
Trade is essential in all of this and in all human prosperity. If you want someone to regard you as more than just another object walking down the street, what have you got to trade for that extra special attention in return? It’s really that simple, and every single effort to end-run that mutual exchange of value—where each party to the trade gives up something they have—because they want it less than what they could have in exchange—is rooted in a desire to get something for nothing.
Here are some different perspectives on sexual objectification from a couple of old timers.
Female knowledge of objectification usually stops at a necessary but superficial understanding: beauty is rewarded and lack of beauty is punished. The punishments are understood as personal misfortune; they are not seen as systematic, institutional, or historical. Women do not understand that they are also punished through sexual use for being beautiful; and women do not understand the lengths to which men go to protect themselves and their society from contamination by ugly women who do not induce a lustful desire to punish, violate, or destroy, though men manage to punish, violate, or destroy these women anyway.
“Turning people into sex objects is one of the specialties of our species.” In her view, objectification is closely tied to (and may even be identical with) the highest human faculties toward conceptualization and aesthetics.
I guess you can figure out which one I think is dealing with reality as it is, and which one has issues motivating a fantasy “idealism.”
Here’s the rub on all of this, at least to me. Is it really, really that women don’t want to be the sexual object of someone they may be really attracted to? No, they want to be a sexual object—whether or not they’ve done everything they can to be sexually attractive*—but they don’t want to bother with the normal social dynamics where such attraction often isn’t mutual.
(* I acknowledge that genes don’t deal a fair game. But that goes for both genders. What appears not to be the same for both genders is that one of them is not whining to be declared BEAUTIFUL when most people don’t find them that way.)
They want it both both ways.
So let’s say sexual objectification is just a fact of reality. If so, and it’s clear to me that it is, then repulsion is just as valid. That’s always been how society worked this stuff out: repulsion, attraction. In the end, the whole objectification thing strikes me as just a desire to have one’s cake and eat it too.
Female Entitlement and Affirmative Action
Here’s an “extreme” view, I believe from someone who has commented here; CL, a woman, incidentally: Tits or GTFO (a.k.a. How Women Ruin Everything). Some heavy excerpts.
Why is it that women can never apologise for anything? And why is it that when they come into a male space, they take it over?
Too many women will waltz in and expect to engage everyone, with no sense that perhaps they should just hang back once they’ve had their say if they even have it. They talk and talk and talk, derailing conversations, going off-topic usually to talk about themselves, until all that’s left is a room full of clucking hens and all the smart guys eventually get fed up and leave.
They want to be considered equals yet prove they do not deserve it both by showing that what they really want is to be up on that pedestal and that they are incapable of rational thought. They will act like they are having a debate on equal footing, but they don’t know when to back down, so they try to out-talk everyone until everyone gives up and the place is in shambles. That is considered a victory, because it’s all about winning, not learning anything.
If the kudos are not forthcoming, this is the way it goes with women. If the kudos are forthcoming, she will move on to the next man, looking for more, because she needs every man to think she is wonderful and it still won’t satiate her vampire soul because the one man she wants it from won’t give it to her. Yet she claims she doesn’t tingle for aloof alpha males. It is never about the words a woman says; scratch the surface and you find the patterns of behavior. […]
So, perhaps a new policy for women should be, since they refuse to apologise or drop anything, tits or GTFO.
If a woman is making no sense and adding nothing to the discussion, while making it all about her, defending other women, being a special snowflake and NOT wanting to learn anything, she is a liability and worthless in that forum, so she has reduced her worth to only sexual. Therefore, she should just be sexual and show her tits to show she has something to offer.
Men do not do this to women; women do it to themselves. Due the their lame, banal talking, they show they are only good for sex. Showing her tits is a humbling and reminds her of her worth. With any hope, it makes her think and realise that in order to be more than a sexual object, she must STFU or prove herself able to be rational.
I am embarrassed for my sex. It makes me cringe to see how they ruin everything once they get their claws in, and how little they really seem to care for men and male spaces. We all want our own spaces free of drama. Perhaps they don’t realise that it is they who create all the drama, but apparently this is what women seem to want.
How many men don’t resonate to the bone marrow with that, in experience over time, tracking back to the advent of the Entitlement Revolution? This is not by any means all or most women. Otherwise, we’d all have committed suicide, by now. For what it’s worth, I’ve experienced many men who do essentially the same thing.
I’ll not make a single excuse and will affirmatively condemn the awful ways in which women have been treated and subjugated throughout Neolithic history, where in many places, the evil persists to this day.* The absolute cost of this treatment has been born by the women who suffered merely for being women. The secondary cost was born by society, Neolithic society. Imagine, for example, if women had been seen as equals in intelligence and creativity and inventiveness since the dawn of this age. Twice the societal brain power and a complimentary creative perspective would have been the norm. Had it been like that, much suffering would have been averted…and perhaps we’d all be reading about man and woman having gone to the moon hundreds of years ago, in old history books…
(* Principally by your religious institutions. Let me ask: how come the church doesn’t still burn or advocate burning women at the stake for the high treason of asserting her “God given” mind? Your institution is based upon divine doctrines, right? So are they living doctrines, like the US Constitution; did God change his mind? Is he a reformed sadist? Where’s the Divinity in it?)
But there’s one…no, two…bugaboos. Were YOU personally brutalized, subjugated, tortured against your will? Or, are you merely claiming damages on behalf of those who actually did suffer, even die? The second bugaboo is that you’re not going after the actual perpetrators, most long dead. …But there’s no money or affirmation in them, is there?
Collectivization is the real cancer underlying all of this in a Neolithic social context; i.e., the politically energized and agitated demand for State involvement, which means: to get and keep the State in the marketplace of selling votes for entitlement. Votes are traded for the State to affirmatively act in getting more and more women, more and more of what they deserve less and less of. Why then work to trade and earn your sexual, business, or whatever recompense, if you can manage to get behind a big enough mob…so you can toss the smaller mob into the cannibal pot and have a feast?
Collective objectification and entitlement in the feminist sphere looks something like this to me:
Guy #1 to Guy #2: “Fuck you, asshole; cocksucker.”
Guy #2: “Oh, he doesn’t like me. Or, he’s pissed at me for some reason. Or, maybe I said something stupid. Or….hey, no! Fuck You!”
Guy #1 to Woman #1: “Shut up, cunt.”
Woman #2: “He called you a cunt. He hates women. Classic misogynist.”
Woman #1: “Thank you. Thank you. I was worried that it might be about me! Thank you. It ’explains’ everything.”
Who wins and who loses? Woman #2 “wins,” and the real unfortunate loser is woman #1, persuaded and cajoled against any measure of self evaluation by peer pressure, with ideological standing, now. …And that, my friends, is what so many of my formerly feminist commenters have been identifying in comments over and over; in essence: “hey, if you thought men were bad, wait until you really understand the feminists.”
Or, they figured out where they were really getting screwed, and where the real love and devotion was to be had. In the end, this has nothing to do with women on whole. It has everything to do with some individual women being unwilling to have feelings hurt, be maligned, insulted or any number of other non-violent things cross their path. So this gets misdirected into an offense against all women collectively. We are the world! One for all and all for one!
Anarchy: Misogyny, Misandry, Men, Women, Alphas, Betas, Extroverts, Introverts, and Binary Thought
ItsTheWoo kinda let the cat outta the bag already, though not directly at me in my bait trap I set last night as a prelude to this post.
The great thing about being a free independent human being is you don’t have to default to these binary characters of “hard nosed masculine butch miserable bitcH” or “submissive woman child-in need of male support and assistance for all tasks”. You can *gasp* create your OWN identity and personality. Instead of wearing some random personality like a mask, why don’t you search inside of yourself and figure out who you are and what you want?
ItsTheWooo serves as an example for a good deal of what I’ve written thus far. I completely objectify her. She’s an object to me: a bloger, comments of hers I’ve read going way back, and we’ve even gone after each other in blogs—on hers and mine, and in comments. She never demanded any apology from me, nor I from her. She’s never entitled herself over what I do, nor I of her, and I don’t have to give up ownership of my blog domain to her in reparations, nor hers to me.
But I was, and still am, admonished to objectify her beyond that. She’s “this x,” and “that y,” all from people who have basically only ever read her in comments on blogs, or have read her skilled, often funny stream of consciousness rants on her own blog. Have any of them had lunch or cocktails with her? No. Seen her in action at work? No. Gone out on the town? No. Spent a weekend away? No. And no. And no. And no.
She has never lied to me. Hey, if she can call me a prick or a dickhead, or whatever else and I let it go, why would she need to? Having a thick skin is the best defense against people lying to you; day in, day out.
Wooo chose to pop into comments here recently for whatever reasons of her own, and with quite a roar, if you ask me. I disagree with her on a million things. I agree with her on 2-3 things (1st joke of the post). She makes me think a million times. It’s a simple lesson, to me. That someone begins as an object to you and will always be an object to you in fact, doesn’t mean you can’t explore that object more thoroughly; doesn’t mean you can’t find abiding value in that object. And it doesn’t have anything to do with any other individual, male or female. Nothing any female does, no injustice any female endures has the slightest relevance to Wooo in terms of how I, an individual, can deal with and value her.
In two comment threads last week on two guest posts—one on women stepping up their game, and the other by the enviable nude backside that leads off this post—intense, huge discussions began between A.B. Dada, Elenor, and ItsTheWoo. Or, I should say, total Anarchy and CHAOS! broke out. Why do I say that? You can pick through all of what ought really be a book on relationships from three different perspectives, and you will not find a scintilla of evidence that suggests people ought do anything but get off their asses and work this shit out for themselves. No elections were called for. No troops were called in. No Hobgoblins were summoned forth to menace and agitate the masses (they’re all previously engaged through November 6th).
Dada is a successful guy who, in addition to his businesses and international travels and homes, coaches both guys and gals on how to increase their Sexual Market Value respective to the opposite sex. Elenor does likewise for women, but doesn’t call it that. Wooo adds the perspective of Neolithic Institutional conditioning, and norms and such: with rant, ridicule and acid. Others contributed as well. I dare you to find that there’s not a lot to think about. Thesis. Antithesis. Synthesis. That’s Anarchy. The Dialectic. You don’t need a ruler. You need smart people, and I dare say that in terms of social dialectic, you find them here for virtually every post.
They’re speaking of something that involves the most basic aspect of human existence: men, women, relationships, fucking, and babies…and the very important care that goes into all of it. It makes the world go round to the general delight of 7 billion people. …But let’s be negative instead. Women get insulted sometimes. Stop The World!
All of this alpha, beta, misogyny, misadry, men, women, (x)verts, relationships et al, is a spectrum of basic human antagonism. Virtually nobody is full anything; it’s just men and women in the practice of their lives. All these traits are distributed, and most fall in various ranges of alpha and beta, introvert and extrovert—and misogyny and misandry are the terms used by manipulators and purveyors of deception to label whomever they dislike or wish to smear.
Antagonism—short of force and violence—is a healthy human dynamic that makes us grow in knowledge, experience and understanding. While imperfect and too often unjustly enforced, prohibitions against force and violence have stood in principle since The Enlightenment. This illustrates why principles are important. We can refer to it, and everyone knows it.
Conversely, entitlement and affirmative action were not principles of Enlightenment at all, and in fact run counter. Such “progressive” notions are contradictory to Enlightenment principles in general because they require State force and violence be imposed upon some individuals in order to benefit others unjustly.
Are there really, really many males or females who really, really hate and loath the opposite gender? Really? Or, is there a healthy antagonism and and unhealthy antagonism…one of which serves to drive them closer together in deeper understanding, as something that can only be approached, but never fully understood—an eternal, beautiful mystery—or one which seeks imperatively to drive them apart…and don’t forget the middleman?
Was feminism essentially a well-sought-after relationship coach, or a refuge for those who failed at relationships and weren’t willing to look inside? With the world’s population at 7 billion and counting, it doesn’t seem that mutual gender hating is much of a problem outside of the desire for the unearned and undeserved. There are outliers, of course, and they are preponderately males; but in general, men love women and women love men…and it makes the world go round and round, spinning off babies. And a wealth of genuine care.
Women: I’m a man. In my life since about 16, I’ve spent more time, effort, money and even opportunity cost on women than everything and anything else combined. You know what else? Every single one of those women earned it; they had values I wanted, in themselves, more than all that stuff, even some personal aspirations.
Let’s cut to the chase and stop the pathetic lying and collectivization, debutante and size 16 bunched panties: It’s you I hate. And it’s extremely hard to get me to do that. However, its because you are detestable in every way I can imagine. Not women: YOU. Got it?
Stop deflecting and collectivizing the blame you deserve and own yourself. Hate me first and last if you like. I don’t give a fuck in the world. But I hate you; just you, not another woman in the world I can think of. Because, you deserve my hate, in my eyes. CL, the woman in that linked piece above? To a T pegged the sorts of women you are, individual women. I was willing to let this go forever ago. You? Never, ever, and if you look in the post where I pointed out that the debutante is just another liar, it was exactly predicted she would never let this go.
…And do have some decency and stop implicating that AHS volunteer you’ve mercilessly propped up and used to transparent ends, ends that are yours only yours. Who sent her flowers in sympathy? A gift card for a nice dinner? Encourage anyone else to do so? Ah, I see. Thought so.
…So we all objectified her, eh? I did so honestly, with unabashed indignation over the ideas, sarcastically. You did so dishonestly, pretending you were doing every thing else but that.
Update: Owing to valid criticisms, I went back in and cleaned this up in terms of flow, coherency, redundancy, diversion, clarification, elaboration, clarity, so on and so forth etc etc. Nothing has been materially changed from the original meaning.
[For an update, please see: Lemons to Lemonade Documentary – Ed]
My next post—up tomorrow—will be shocking, at least for some. What if a woman reader, amongst many similar, doesn’t much care for the Paleo “feminists”? What if, instead, she has the audacity, the self-confidence and the courage to take on alpha males, accepting no substitute? She sent me a B&W artsy nude of herself taken by a pro, along with permission to post it, name attached. Beta males who only suck up to feminists get only to see what I post about it. They never get sent a photo like that. Laf.
Don’t worry, betas. You’ll have plenty of OMG ammo for further sucking up, once you see that post. …After all, it’s quite a task to keep size 16 panties in a bunch…and débutantes feeling cathartic. You need material. I’m happy to provide it. You’re welcome. (Don’t misunderstand. My comment threads are replete with alphaT. Not what I’m talking about.)
…I drafted a whole post last night, chopped it through the woman who’s gracing us, slept on it and the moment I woke up, knew I was not going to post it. I had far wider integrations to make on the subject of feminism, misogyny, débutantes…and size 16 bunched panties. Stay tuned.
In the meantime, I had food inspiration this afternoon I thought I’d share. I had a half eaten rotisserie chicken carcass. I had potatoes. I had onions. My first thought was a chicken soup with the heartiness of potatoes. Next idea: a mash with some sort of hearty chicken dish on the side. Then I thought of shepherd’s pie, a mainstay of pub food. Bingo.
So here’s a one-off chicken variation. First, you have to make your stew. I broke up the carcass, added as little water and chicken stock as possible to cover (you have to reduce, later, so don’t fuck yourself up), boiled it, strained, keeping the pot on boil and reducing as the chicken cools so you can get all the meat off.
In the meantime, half an onion chopped, sautéd to full, important caramelization in butter. Then, a couple of large potatoes in the nuker, 5 minutes on one side, 2-3 on the other. Skin falls off, mash them into the butter and caramelized onion with a couple of splashes of heavy cream or H&H. Set it aside, best is in the oven on 170F warm, covered.
Go back to work on your stew. Should be well reduced by now. You can tell by tasting. If it has a watery taste (not consistency), not reduced enough. Add a couple of level teaspoons of dried tarragon (less is more; be careful). Go to work on separating your chicken meat and tossing it in the pot. Prepare a cold water or cold stock slurry with your powdered starch of choice. I use potato starch. Introduce it to the boiling pot once you don’t have a watery taste. Salt & pepper to taste.
Spread your potato & onion mash all over your bowl & up the sides. Sorry, was in a rush; all pics from the phone cam. You can see the level of the caramelization of the onions.
Then introduce your hearty chicken stew, and since lemon always goes well with chicken & tarragon, splurge a little. Beta male tip: you’ll definitely want to get those seeds out of the lemon. You don’t want to incur wrath.
Now comes the shepherd’s pie knock off part. Take the other half of your mash and make pancakes (alphas: with your hands; betas: figure it out). You’ll need to use one of those thin & flat short-order cook spatulas to quickly—without hesitation or trepidation—whip it right off that surface. Or, you can use the beta male-method of lining the cutting board with plastic wrap, oh so gently lifting it off, then pealing it off. Overt gentleness is the key, there. Make sure someone notices. Bonus points if she’s a staunch feminist.
The rest is obvious. That goes on the top, another slice of lemon, and it’s fired under the broiler for a few.
And that’s how you get an idea in the late afternoon, work out the details, swear off all cookbooks for life, do your own shit and fix a meal for your misyginist loving wife that’s never ever been made before.
Cookbooks are mostly for betas.