Pretty Frickin’ Cool
A little follow-up anecdote for “Boys Alone.”
A little follow-up anecdote for “Boys Alone.”
The headline at Feministing reads “Punk band Screeching Weasel breaks up after frontman punches two women at SXSW”. A fight broke out after an audience member (who happened to be female) reportedly spit ice at the band’s frontman Ben Weasel while he was on stage because of his misogynist stage rantings. Mike Conklin at The L Magazine …
Watching the president’s wife on television—surrounded by fascinated press while she talks at length—the shopkeeper’s wife turned to her husband and said: ‘You’re the reason why I’m not a president’s wife.’ Watching the general’s wife on television—standing by her husband as he received accolades and medals—the shopkeeper’s wife turned to her husband and said: ‘You’re …
But he wanted to be a real boy and being real could not be given to him. He had to be bad and then choose to be good to be real. Soul is not a thing that is granted; it is a choice that is taken.
But as the social pendulum swings away from chivalry and more toward male self-preservation, and as the unavoidable collective anger begins to mount and find its way into common discussion, there may come a tipping point that will tilt in a cataclysmically bad direction.
I’m stuck. Truly stuck in the past. A past that was created long before I was born. The history of men; an undeniable history that occurs to me every single time I leave the house. A house I might add, that was designed and built by men over eighty three years ago. I love my …
The woman heard about these men suffocating [screaming for fresh cool air, stampeding on the bodies of the dying to pull them away from a crack to get oxygen, brains boiling, chewing off fingertips and sucking on the sweat and blood to get a few drops of moisture.
Part I eviscerated a movie that spent a great deal of its time eviscerating any shred of manhood left in our culture. Part II is a celebration of some spark of manliness left.
The first half of this two-part article will focus on comedic, misandric, cinematic garbage.
In the grimace of today’s single parent homes and more often single mother homes is it any wonder that children are floundering socially? They look like children, they act like children, but all too often they talk like a parent.