Monday, November 17, 2008

"Love" Is A Word In A Pop Song

My father tells me that I'm too young to be a bitter old man. I just happen to think that society is so fucked up, that it is making me age faster. I feel tired all the time, devoid of the dopey-grinned optimism that I see in a lot of young fellers in my age group.

Where am I going with this? Oh yeah, "Love" is a word in a pop song! I saw that sentence used in a post on a message board, and that sentence alone just stuck in my mind. "Love is a word in a pop song." No truer words have been spoken in my mind. All my life, I have been assaulted with overly-sentimental views of love and "relationships" through media, people, and Hallmark cards - and all I have to say is that you're all a bunch of fuckwits.

Because "love" is a word in a pop song. I'm writing this blog for the 19-year-old dipshit that just loves the song "Lips of An Angel" by the band Hinder. You lie in your bed alone, fingering your pussy, as you listen to the lead singer mumble on about how he wishes the girl on the telephone was his girlfriend instead of the "one in the next room." Oh, he's so sensitive! So romantic. Bitch, please! You're so fucking stupid. How long until YOU'RE the girl in the next room. And then you wonder what happened to all the nice guys? They met you're dumb fucking ass, bitch.

Oh, I'm sorry. I'm overly bitter. It's amazing how overly cranky I've gotten in only twenty-four years on planet Earth. But, maybe I have a right to be. Check out this article, 'Love in the Time of Darwinism'

This is an article by Kay S. Hymowitz, who also wrote an article called 'Child-Man in the Promised Land.' In that article, she claimed that the current generation of men are foregoing the traditional expectations of adulthood such as marriage, because of immaturity. She couldn't have been more further from the truth, so she sought to rectify herself with this article, and I agree, she's now a little closer to hitting the nail on the head.

It would be easy enough to hold up some of the callow ranting that the piece inspired as proof positive of the child-man’s existence. But the truth is that my correspondents’ objections gave me pause. Their argument, in effect, was that the SYM is putting off traditional markers of adulthood—one wife, two kids, three bathrooms—not because he’s immature but because he’s angry. He’s angry because he thinks that young women are dishonest, self-involved, slutty, manipulative, shallow, controlling, and gold-digging. He’s angry because he thinks that the culture disses all things male. He’s angry because he thinks that marriage these days is a raw deal for men.

Here’s Jeff from Middleburg, Florida: “I am not going to hitch my wagon to a woman . . . who is more into her abs, thighs, triceps, and plastic surgery. A woman who seems to have forgotten that she did graduate high school and that it’s time to act accordingly.” Jeff, meet another of my respondents, Alex: “Maybe we turn to video games not because we are trying to run away from the responsibilities of a ‘grown-up life’ but because they are a better companion than some disease-ridden bar tramp who is only after money and a free ride.” Care for one more? This is from Dean in California: “Men are finally waking up to the ever-present fact that traditional marriage, or a committed relationship, with its accompanying socially imposed requirements of being wallets with legs for women, is an empty and meaningless drudgery.” You can find the same themes posted throughout websites like AmericanWomenSuck, NoMarriage, MGTOW (Men Going Their Own Way), and Eternal Bachelor (“Give modern women the husband they deserve. None”).

That's right! Fuck marriage! That's something I've thought long and hard about since I was twelve, watching the pain and misery of divorce eat away at my father's very soul, and my own pain... watching my family disintegrate - being estranged from my younger brother, because my mother decided it was best to seperate us - me being raised by my father, while he being raised by mother. I think I got the better of the deal, being raised by a man... my brother has had to live with and put up with whomever mother has brought home from AA. Since my parents seperation and eventual divorce, there have been three live-in boyfriends.

The first boyfriend, an out-of-work stage actor named "Dave" who she still swears to this day as being "just friends," with even though he was sleeping in the same bed with her every night, since my parents were seperated. I was nine-years-old then and this was before my mother sent me away to live with Dad. I wasn't stupid then, either. I knew what was going on. And I didn't like it. Not. One. Bit. And since I was older, and caused the most problems for my mother. I had to be disposed of, sent to live with my father who was living in an other province at the time. One night, (before I had been sent away) Dave, in a fit of anger, threw my brother across the room. I went to my mother about it, only to get a "well maybe he made him mad," as a response.

As soon as I was sent to live with Dad, I told him about Dave had done to his younger son. One phone call from Dad, and Dave was never seen or heard from since. He must've ran off like the scared little bitch that he was. A year later, my father and I moved back to BC to be closer to my brother. Expecting to see Dave still living there, we instead discovered that my mother had been living with a new man. This time his name was "Doug." Now "Doug" was an even bigger asshole than Dave. He had severe emotional problems, which included a violent temper, and I long suspected him to be abusing my brother (which he was).

One day, I went to visit my brother, who had been grounded by this man, kept prisoner in his own room, for merely getting a drink of water, because his presence annoyed this man. I decided that I could no longer stand this man. I was fifteen-years-old now, and I decided that if this guy was going to hit my brother, I was going to be around to witness it and then I would nail him. I convinced my brother to provoke Doug into doing something and it worked. It worked more than I thought it would. The man went off into a violent rage, shoving my brother through a closet door, and nearly knocking the folding door off its hinges. I was scared. My plan was to attack this man as soon as I witnessed an assault, for it would be self-defence, but now that I had seen what this man was capable of, I was scared. As my brother got up, he shoves him through the door again, before tossing him into his room. It took me awhile to gather up my nerve, before I came out of the room with the belt.

After confronting him, we got into a fight. He took the belt from me, and he used it on me. Then, he threw me into my brother's room, and told me that if I ever stepped out of that room he would break my arms. He was calling us "cocksucker" and yelled with such violence his false teeth detached from his gums and he nearly choked from it. After awhile, he came back, quieter, he must have been thinking about what he had done because that's when he sent me home. That was his mistake, because as soon as I got home, I called the cops on him. He was charged, and a restraining order placed on him. My mother was still seeing him, though for a little while after that. But then after awhile, he wasn't seen or heard from for over a week. Then, his body was discovered in his apartment. He had killed himself by downing some pills. I felt no pity for him.

Boyfriend number three appeared not long after Doug was cremated. Maybe a week. So much for mourning. My brother and I knew another one was coming, because our mother decided to start going to AA again. See, that's what she did back then. She went to AA as a dating service, and when she found the next loser, she would stop going. It was all part of her twisted game she played with people. She would always absolve herself of any responsibility and play the victim all the time. This new man was different. Whereas, her last boyfriend was on her way to prison, this guy just got out. Way to go, Mom. Actually, in the end he turned out to be better than the last two. I never got along with him in the beginning, why would I? Now I have him as a friend on my Facebook. Funny, how life is.

In the beginning I saw him as a bit of a man-child. He wasn't as bright as most people his age, at sixteen-going-on-seventeen, I felt I was intellectually superior to him (which I am).

But what is the point I'm trying to make? The point is... after experiencing all this why would I want to jump on the same marriage bandwagon? Why should I have children? As a man, I would have no say in what would happen with any future children that I might have. My father was powerless, unable to do anything about the kind of men that my brother was exposed to whenever my mother brought a man home. Why should I get married with "no fault" divorced? Why should I get married, when I'm most likely going to pay alimony? Why should I get married when everything I have ever worked hard and earned, could be taken away, just because my "wife" no longer loved me any more? Am I being so unreasonable?

By the time men reach their twenties, they have years of experience with women as equal competitors in school, on soccer fields, and even in bed. Small wonder if they initially assume that the women they meet are after the same things they are: financial independence, career success, toned triceps, and sex.

But then, when an SYM walks into a bar and sees an attractive woman, it turns out to be nothing like that. The woman may be hoping for a hookup, but she may also be looking for a husband, a co-parent, a sperm donor, a relationship, a threesome, or a temporary place to live. She may want one thing in November and another by Christmas. “I’ve gone through phases in my life where I bounce between serial monogamy, Very Serious Relationships and extremely casual sex,” writes Megan Carpentier on Jezebel, a popular website for young women. “I’ve slept next to guys on the first date, had sex on the first date, allowed no more than a cheek kiss, dispensed with the date-concept altogether after kissing the guy on the way to his car, fucked a couple of close friends and, more rarely, slept with a guy I didn’t care if I ever saw again.” Okay, wonders the ordinary guy with only middling psychic powers, which is it tonight?

Indeed, which is it tonight?




She writes very well, with sound 'evidence' from her everyday sources. But she confines herself to young men; chaps who still have the cradle marks on their bums even if they have read and understood the writing on the wall.

She, no doubt, elsewhere in her book, will deal with the older chap. I hope so. He is less cocky but his anger is considerably more well founded. He has dropped all pretension or intention to procreate. He wants nothing to do with women.

Make Love to them? With them? Women only know Love as a word in a pop song. Shag them? Not even that. No chance. They are simply not worthy of his efforts.

He is heart-sick. His mode is sadness. Not that he wears it on his sleeve. He goes about his business cut off from his socety. Society, to him WAS women. It was children. It was family. But women have right royally fucked it up.

Many such men had a family and had children. He loved both. He had his woman by his side, and he loved her. But she turned to face in a different direction. She broke the family apart in a fit of violence which devasted his psychic landscape like a nuclear explosion. Everything he had was taken in an instant.

Why build a new house?; why lay a new road; why plant a garden; why provide and protect. It can be destroyed in an instant. By her. It happened.

Women who deserve his mature attention, his warmth and self-sacrifice, are far too busy whining while looking in the mirror. They don't care.

He no longer cares, either.

If Darwinianism has rules, then this is the end game.

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