[dropcap]I[/dropcap] am going to show you a video. If you are a run of the mill blue pill mainstreamer, you don’t need a warning. You might even find it amusing. It has a lot to do with a man’s pain, both emotional and physical, so it won’t mean much to you, except perhaps as a source of humor.
But this might be upsetting if you are a red pill convert that actually see’s the pain of your fellow man, as well as his clear folly. So be prepared, but be sure to watch all of it.
Now that you have seen it, another warning. I have criticism, some of it harsh, for what happened in that video. It is not intended to rub salt into this man’s wounds, or to “blame the victim,” but to use the event as a lesson; an instruction on how not to be a real man, and how to avoid the pitfalls that accompany such foolish pursuits.
You see, the temptation here is to view this man’s actions as a slightly crazy act of liberation; a strange but somewhat understandable stab at self-reclamation; a statement – somewhat akin to what the victim himself utters during the process.
“She can’t hurt me now.”
It is easy to assume that perhaps, in some way, as his shredded skin flies from the wheel of that grinder and blood oozes onto his arm, that he is actually erasing her; removing her memory and the pain she obviously brought into his life with no more effort than it takes cut flesh with steel; that he is moving forward with zeal into a less vulnerable, stronger future. Yeah, man, let’s all do high fives and cheer as he gets that bitches name off his arm.
But there is a fundamental problem with this. This is not a man getting past his pain, but a man savaging himself with it. Clearly, she is hurting him still, and behind the laughter and bravado is a man directly, transparently, turning his grief inward on himself. He has pulled whatever dagger this woman shoved in his back and thrust it into his own gut.
And he is laughing while he does it.
We make much in the men’s movement, as well we should, of the suffering men face at the hands of women, especially when their injuries are inflicted with the help of the state. Likewise, we fairly and accurately address the cruelty and depraved indifference of blue pill men who admonish us all to just suck it up and take it. Such men will also not likely care much for this video because it does, even if in a woefully misguided way, acknowledge that a man is in pain. For them, it is much better for him to take the grinder to himself while sequestered away form a world that does not want to hear anything of his troubles.
But we are also seeing something here that even exceeds that level of disgusting, and it is delivered courtesy of the men who surrounded him and made the video. This type of “man,” lowly enough to even make someone like me put the word “man” in scare quotes, is at least as contemptuous and vile as the worst that feminism has ever unleashed on the world.
These men are, simply put, puerile scumbags, particularly the scumbag with the grinder. And in a righteous world he righteously deserves to have that power tool shoved up has ass while it is still running, save the fact that it might render the only worthwhile tool in that room unusable.
It pains me even further to observe that the only voice of dissent in that group, albeit weak and pathetic, came from a woman; that the rest of them, the entire video recording, knuckle bumping lot of imbeciles could not have been more happy to witness and incite the grieving showboat. Not a single word of reason offered; not a single plea for a better way than a humiliating public display of self-mutilation. Not one of them with the integrity to say, “I am not doing this,” and walking off from the video.
What a group of sick fucking cowards.
I don’t know the personal story behind this man’s pain, but the end result I have seen a thousand times. So have you, in each and every statistic that shows men kill themselves at 10 times the rate that women do during divorce and breakups.
Is it any wonder why, really? If this is what men betrayed by women can expect from other men, then maybe eating a gun isn’t so crazy. Maybe eating a gun is sane.
Except.
Except, that now we have the red pill. We have a viable answer to this problem that actually works. All you have to do is make a man think, just a little; to begin with ask why, seriously, would he so lose himself in woman as to have their name inked on his skin to begin with? Perhaps if he can come to understand that level of insanity he can also get more than a passing glimpse of the fact that we are not really talking about something as simple as the skin. He might see that his skin, even as it bleeds, is really just a metaphor for his entire life.
Men become attached to women almost on a cellular level. It is a bit of genetic insanity that used to work for the species, to keep men attached enough to women to give their lives protecting them, but now is like a 900 pound gorilla on the putting green going full swing with a nine iron for a three foot shot.
The red pill is what wakes men up to the fact that we no longer live on the African Savanna; that women are, essentially, every bit as disposable as men, especially as viewed from the life of an individual man. It is the pill that lets us know we can live without them, and that the loss of one doesn’t need to mean the loss of skin, and usually does not mean we have lost love, but just the illusion of it.
Do you think whatever woman hurt this man feels put in her place by this video? The most likely reaction from her will be a sense of power and accomplishment. How special and valuable must she be that a man would allow part of his arm to be ground off from the loss of her. She is laughing at his misery and wallowing in her sense of power. And he handed that to her along with his dignity.
The red pill is THE ONLY WAY to overcome that programming At the very roots of human biology the “need” for women stretches like tentacles through minds and hearts of most men, so that the core of male identity is contingent on female approval and acceptance. And in completely logical reciprocity, they are not wired to love us, but to use us. Only a few rise above it and our skills for spotting them are almost nonexistent. All this affects men in places you cannot reach with a grinder no matter how much you bear down on it.
Anyone who has read much of my work at all knows that I avoid messages like “men should,” or other such precursors to Peter Pan platitudes and condescending counsel. But were I to engage in telling other men what is good for them, the first thing, and perhaps the last, that would find its way out of my mouth is that men need a much revised idea of the importance of women in their lives; which is to say they are not one bit more important than the next man. That puts them in pretty good perspective to consider the next time one of use takes a power tool to a man’s arm for a hoot on YouTube.
We need to start dispensing that particular red pill, in pre-adolescent days, to help give young men a fighting chance at surviving young women, and surviving the three million years of unconscious programming that will likely as not put them on a chopping block while other men tell them to man up and take it, and others laugh at their misery.
We report on legal events here because they are important. But one of the reasons I started this website is because I know the MRM involves much more than legislation. Pass all the laws you want, it won’t do us any good at all unless we also keep passing those red pills around.
