Feminism is like a three-legged dog


When I was a child in elementary school, a three legged dog followed my sister and I in the morning one day on our walk to school. We felt pity for the dog, but we did not dare to touch it. We could have turned around and led it back home, putting the dog in our backyard to keep it safe until we were out of school and our parents returned from work. Instead, we let the dog follow us on to the school campus, knowing full well that the teacher who claimed it could call animal control and then the dog would likely be shuffled through a series of cages before being put down. Our parents would likely have not wanted a crippled stray dog on top of the two dogs we already had, and the possibility of it running away again in the future tarnished the idea of taking it in. Our dogs have always been loved and loyal, but the three-legged dog was damaged goods, there would be no guarantee that it could be rehabilitated.

Feminism is a crippled animal compared to traditional patriarchy. It is under the guise that it stands on its own, when in reality it relies on the very foundations that patriarchy built. When a feminist society is put to the test, it will predictably hobble along, pathetically trying to keep the pace set by the enlightened world builders of our past. When dealing with feminism, we may hope for the best, just as I hoped for that crippled dog to find its way back to its home, but any problems that arise from it will be kicked down the road to become someone else’s problem. The hemorrhaging of society caused by feminism cannot be undone. It may be propped up, just as the dog could be fitted with an artificial limb, but it will never function as it once did before it was maimed. Men may prop it up with taxes, or the government may prop it up with a bachelor tax, or the media may prop it up with censorship, but it can only delay, not repair.

Just as the crippled dog exudes weakness and vulnerability to the pack, a feminist society signals to the world that it is defenseless and defeated. A moral man may care for that crippled dog despite its weaknesses, but morality is truly tested when contrasted against practicality. Should that man become the guardian to the dog in harsh times, suffer for his morality and then express his woe, he is a weak man. If a man today wants to support and defend his society without addressing the gynocentric cancer rotting away at its core, I wish him the best of luck. If he should fail in his goal and shift the blame to anyone but himself, he is a fool and a fraud. A smart man would let the cripple hobble on and prepare his nest for a more wholesome and well-equipped alternative.

Removing morality entirely is dangerous and I do not recommend it, but comparing the morality of what you would want to happen versus what needs to happen for the best results is a practice that will provide the opportunities for you to exercise that morality. We can’t help all the crippled dogs, but we can help more when we are in a position of strength and abundance. If I were an older man with my own house, I could have taken in that dog without needing to ask permission and on the sole basis of entertaining my morality. I crossed paths with that dog at the wrong time, and there were less options available as a young child versus a developed man. Helping a feminist society is too costly for a man, and if he truly has an altruistic desire to help, he would be most useful after the collapse of the society, not being taken down with it.


The Winter of Your Soul


Three forces govern a man: his mind, his body, his soul. His body can be molded by iron, his mind can be sharpened by words from men long past, but his soul is dependent solely on his own willpower. His soul rules his character, it is the basis of his morality that he exercises in his life. The dependence of the soul on the man makes it the most vulnerable, requiring a vigilant and watchful eye against anything and anyone that would seek it harm. Once a soul has been corrupted, it takes the strength of a god to cleanse it and restore harmony.

For men who have just begun to find their own way, two obstacles lie in their path: anger and sadness. The anger comes from the lie you have been fed, from the realization of the amount of time you have spent on everything else expect your own goals. This anger, in its early stages, is formless and wild. It cannot be tamed and is as paralyzing and destructive as the chains that bound him. Once a man has tamed the beast that is his anger, he can harness its raw energy and direct it and shape it into something that can help create his visions and destroy his obstacles. This anger must be tempered within his soul because its natural state is that formless, wild beast that took the great effort to tame. Every man must find his own way of taming it, be it iron, creation, travel, or otherwise. A man must know to tame it, because the world depends on you not doing so. The wheels of civilization roll on the bones and blood of men who let their anger and frustrations lead them where they did not mean to go. Do not be lead by anger and hate, rather lead it where it can be useful. Unrestrained, it will poison a soul.

The far greater adversary to the soul is the sadness that comes after the anger. This despair at the state of the world and those you cannot save from suffering creates guilt and remorse. If anger poisons the soul, sadness kills it. You must tread carefully when confronting this deformed, ugly beast that distorts the beauty of the world into the most grotesque things it produces. Confronting this foe is the first step to conquering it, and so begins the winter of a man’s soul. As the daylight of youth and ignorance fades, he is left with the truths that have been laid bare before him, the path that led him to face sadness. The reality of these truths are cold and tearing down the false constructions he had will leave him defenseless against the onslaught of the frigid storm.

To survive the storm, do as nature instructed to animals: hibernate. He should surround himself with wholesome friends, if they are to be found, and entertainment. He can bury himself in pleasantries as the storm rages outside, and once it has calmed he can emerge and seek it out on a fair battlefield. Whatever form his beast takes, he must look at it objectively. He should remove his ego as best he can and face it squarely and bravely.

A man going his own way has many forms of sadness to conquer. Overcoming oneitis is a common form, as is accepting the vital truth of AWALT. After he has overcome his personal woes, he may begin to look to society at large and feel regret at the loss of opportunities or the disgrace brought to his ancestors, who fought and died only for women to tear it down in a few generations. He must separate his ego from himself and realize that there are more opportunities than ever for an independent man to achieve greatness and that his ancestors fought and died to grant him the right to appreciate their sacrifice in peace and solitude and to uphold their memory by being the best man he can be.