Four levels of knowing
So what the hell does any of this have to do with you and me? Well, the thing is because you and I know about the Quattro livelli di conoscenza. We can go about our ways better as MRA’s.
Mr. Soloman. 1977
“For now we see the future through a glass, darkly, and yet still the clues to the future are all around us. As time passes both the wisdom and the folly of youth are thrown into sharp relief. In another of his delightful short stories, Dr. F takes a trip back to his childhood adventures with ticks, toads, governments, and flying machines, and reveals some of the crazy clues that were there for us all the time.
Mrs. Drummings
Dr. F comes back with another story that has a deeper story to tell. Wrong doers often use sympathy to avoid consequences to their actions and this is particularly true when it comes to women and their tales of woe. This story is about lost coins, deadly dolls, a crutch thrown into a pool, not just one but two toxic damsels and a society that excuses anything if a woman can squeeze out a few tears. [Illustration by Dr. F]
Pumpski
“I’ve stumbled on somethin’ powerful Ian. If we use this new power properly we can make demands like longer lunches or no more homework and we might even get sympathy money from the school treasury!” So says Pumpski to his friend Ian about the power of fainting. But Pumpski makes a fatal miscalculation on who can get away with a display of hypoagency and who can make demands using it.
Our Dad
What happens when a parent in a dysfunctional family dies? Dr. F brings us “Our Dad”. A story from the heart that will hit all too close to home for those of us who have gone through the death of a parent who fell short of our expectations–but who we found it in ourselves to forgive anyway. Many of us will recognize ourselves in this story. [Illustration by Dr. F]
Mr Whippy
Dr. F. returns with an essay on, well, shall we say childhood, on innocence stolen because of innocence that is failed to be presumed. How many Mr. Whippy’s do we know that have simply disappeared from our lives, from the lives of our little ones? How do we know they’re guilty of whatever they’re charged of? Why do we assume, especially when the rumors are about a man. Story with original artwork by Dr. F.
A letter to my son never born
What can a man say to a son he never had, or perhaps one he was not allowed to hang on to? Dr. F reaches inside and speaks to the hidden shadows in every man, and the son who stands there waiting for his word.
Bourne kitchen's burn
Misandry in advertising isn’t just a staple anymore. It’s the bread and butter, and the knife that spreads it on, and the dirty plate on which it is served to men shamed into opening their wallets.
My name is Frank
From the AVFM Forums comes an introduction. Another man who has taken the long road from there to here, and whose words prove his journey. Gather round, please, and say hello to Frank.
The pamper hamper
Occasionally we are gifted with a piece of fiction from our friend Dr. F, from the land of Oz. This particular piece, which revolves around something called a Pamper Hamper, leaves a question in our minds. Is it really fiction?
