The tsunami

Just after Christmas, 2004, the Sumatra–Andaman earthquake struck off the coast of Indonesia. Of the videos of that day, the one that stills me into quiescence is the one of people walking on an empty beach, marveling at the tranquility of a subsea surface never before seen.  They had no idea what was coming.

I have often wondered what that must have been like for them—so few survived. For just moments later, the ocean returned with a ferocious carnage, roaring with a toxic indifference, wiping them from the face of the earth.

Never again will I wonder what that was like. Now I have a minimal idea. For in the early hours of Tuesday (I live in Europe) I waited patiently for the workday to start, Eastern US Time.  I simmered with rage, counting down the start of the business day.

Then I called.

The tranquility of the receptionists at Gillette surprised me. I immediately realized they had no idea what was coming. I did not get angry with them. I engaged them as they spoke of nice weather, a lovely commercial and a great start to a new year. I wanted them to enjoy the conversation—for they had no idea that it was not a low cloud, darkening the offshore sky.

Then the ocean rose.

It was astounding to watch how Gillette initially handled it—sublime stupidity. They had convinced themselves that feminism was ethical and masculinity was toxic. They politely disagreed with some of the comments on Facebook, Twitter, and Youtube, with levity.

The ocean rolled over the levy.

Gillette began deleting posts, like people fleeing a tidal wave.

I called back often to Gillette. I heard the timbre of the voice change from indifferent tranquility, to confusion, and finally to fatigue. I did the same to the companies that financed the advertisement and the companies that directed the film.  They were oblivious to oblivion.

The ocean grew furious.

As Gillette deleted dislikes, the ocean brought them back, again and again and again.

I read news stories on how the advertisement was a homerun–a homerun! (you can still find this). One article was titled: “Why Gillette’s toxic masculinity ad is annoying both sexists and feminists” – think about that title.

The waves kept rolling ashore, sweeping excuses aside and the land was gone.

I read news stories on how the commercial, at least, initiated a debate.

Then came the stories that something was going wrong.

The tsunami did not bow before the matriarchy.

Feminists levied their charges at the posters: Misogynist!” Crybaby!  Snowflake!  Sexist!   The accusations swirled as the surges spiraled into vortices.

Gillette stopped responding.

I will never forget these days.

I learned a few things these past few days.

Feminists will mock masculinity; and will continue to do so, if unchecked.  They have legitimized their toxicity—convinced the world they are ethical.

Men have found a greater, shared voice.

Men raged with a fury I have never seen before; and we have wonderful, loving sisters who support us.   I became stilled, quiescent, by the voices of women who love men and do not feel we are toxic.

I soon realized that if men hold firm, the feminists flee: they are cowards.  To some extent, this week, feminism has expended its worst at us and we survived.  It has nothing left but insults: The Empress has no clothes.

But there is more.

I saw the brotherhood of men and masculinity, around the world—white, black, gay, straight, Asian and Caucasian (Australia, India, England, Canada, US)—rising in support of each other.  The Gillette commercial encouraged the very thing it wanted: actualizing men. Men will now hold each other to account, but not for the ends that toxic feminism had hoped.

This is not the time to rest on masculinity’s magnificent achievements.

The American Psychological Association is not our friend and feels we are bad; we know that now.  Rather than truly help boys, their pronouncements choose to emasculate; they ignore the causes of our difficulties, issue aphorisms; and do nothing.

Never allow anyone to utter the phrase “toxic masculinity” without also enumerating the magnificent achievements and sublime sacrifices of masculinity.  Never allow anyone to utter the phrase “toxic masculinity” without also discussing “toxic femininity.”  Never allow anyone to utter the phrase “toxic masculinity” without stating a plan to help boys and men.  Boys and men suffer in a matriarchy that ignores our health needs; ignores disparities in criminal sentencing, ignores the education of boys, ignores false rape accusations, ignores the greater degrees of homelessness, suicide, addiction and poverty of men (blaming it on toxic masculinity)—far in excess of how women are affected and lies about gender wage gaps.

Male bodies fill the tombs in Arlington.  Our brothers died in advance of this war that is now beginning.  Visit the tombs of your brothers in the war cemeteries and ask them for guidance as we wage this war against toxic feminism.

For myself: Gillette will never be mentioned in my home, again.

We are at turning point.

Now I know what that silence was like on that beach on Phuket Island before the ocean disagreed with the land.

Those people—at Gillette, and the feminist media—had no idea what was coming.

There is a Japanese saying to the effect that sometimes one must move with the intensity of a fire, sometimes with the invisibility of the wind and other times, must be motionless like a mountain.

The fire, this time, was the tsunami.  It raged.  Calm returns. This is the time to move like the wind and wait like a mountain.

Keep posting on Gillette sites: they will be taken down, so post them again.  Do it every day.

Contact the company that made the film: Somesuch.co,

Contact the company that organized the advertising: Gray advertising.

Do not stop calling Gillette.  By taking the phone lines for this issue, they make no profit on others sales.  It takes a minute to call and costs little.

Explain to one man each week why he should not purchase Gillette.

Speak to store managers and ask they drop Gillette products.  Do this every time you shop.

If you buy razors and see another man standing there, stop and talk with him.

Contact the NFL and make sure the Gillette commercial is not played during the Superbowl (do this soon).

Every day remind yourself and know this: “Masculinity is beautiful.”

Vote.  Yes, vote.   Attend political meetings and object when you hear the phrase “war on women,” and speak about the war on boys.  Appeal to mothers of sons.  We know the empress has no clothes.

Move like the wind.

Ignore the media lies that the response failed. Wait for the sales reports and marketing shares.

Wait like a mountain.

Surely, there are so many men who have gone before and led the way: Paul Elam, Warren Farrell, Angry Harry, Mike Buchanan, Jordan Peterson and many others.  My final words, then, are not to discredit the efforts of these previous men by insinuating that the real battle is about to begin (for they waged the opening volleys), but we must still remember the words of General Yamamoto:

“I fear all we have done is to awaken a sleeping giant and fill him with terrible resolve.”

The cover image is under CC-BY 2.0 and came from here.