Amanda Marcotte: make me your whore

Nearly every woman I know has a hair-curling story of a guy approaching her by gushing about how beautiful/awesome/beddable he thinks she is and leaving his entire “pitch” at that, without even considering the idea that perhaps he should offer some reasons that she might want a reasons[sic] to be interested beyond the ever so rare opportunity to please a bona fide man. – Amanda Marcotte

Yes, Amanda, women hate it so much when men get all talky-n-stuff, because we all know women really only care about one thing…

Yes, friends, it is true. Amanda Marcotte, the man-hater extraordinaire, the one who believes that misandry is a nonsense word and that women don’t owe men even the slightest courtesy (even though women require that men act first with the romantic overtures), has transformed herself, seemingly overnight, into a stalwart of the PUA (pickup artist) community.

This breathtaking change occurred in her delicate lady-brain when rapper DJ Khaled proposed marriage to another man-hater, Nicki Minaj. Despite the fact that Khaled offered Minaj at ring valued at US$500,000, and Minaj was later spotted wearing a massive engagement ring, Marcotte’s panties were all in a bunch because “Men [are] constructing the ‘marry me/be my girlfriend/go on a date with me’ request as something a woman should consider for no other reason than it would please him greatly if she would do that.”

Um, so, Amanda, the bringing of gifts symbolic of a commitment to care for, and provide for, a woman doesn’t even show up on feminist radar any more as a reason a woman might like a guy?

Oops – sorry – “radar” is heteronormative. I meant, gaydar, of course.

Marcotte’s wise and two-fold instruction to amorous and/or randy young feminist-leaning men is decidedly practical and indeed, mercenary – if you want a girl’s attention, Marcotte says, first, offer her money to fuck you, and then, show her your dick.

Well, of course, Marcotte can’t really say that so explicitly, because offering money for sex, or sex for money, is called “prostitution” and is generally frowned upon by legal authorities in the US. But here’s how Sex in the City girl Marcotte would have men launch cupid’s arrow: Very few products are marketed, “Buy this, because we would like your money!” Politicians don’t really say, “Vote for me, because I’d love to be elected!” Generally, when we ask someone to do something, we try to highlight what they get out of it.

“Highlight what they get out of it” – what great advice! All this time we clueless men have treated women as competent enough to evaluate a man based on her own standards, when what we should have done is just crassly open our wallets, bank statements and zippers for inspection and evaluation by the demure slatterns of our dreams.

Because, of course, to Marcotte and other feminist twits like her, men are only useful to women by how much they cater to women’s every need, whim, whine, or fetish – even as they ask for legal and social equality with men, men are still their draft animals. God forbid in Marcotte-land that any women ever be inconvenienced by the desires of a man-slave – we are supposed to act as if we can read their minds, take all the initiative, and offer all of our assets for the pleasure of milady.

But perhaps I’m being too reductive here. Marcotte says “If you actually put your qualities out there to be assessed as you’re assessing hers, then she’s free to decide that’s not what she wants and you have to accept it”.

Hmmmm. “Put your qualities out there” – like what, Amanda? – the size/image of my sexual organs?

Yes, that is exactly what she has in mind – “Sending a dick pic, figuring that the message ‘thinking of you gives me an erection’ naturally leads to her feeling obliged to do something to relieve you of that stiff situation.”

I couldn’t believe it, either – Marcotte, man-hating Marcotte, in her own words, says women are obliged to offer men sexual release if only men would display their erections. Holy shit – maybe there is something for men in this “feminism” thing after all.

Am I exaggerating? Did she mean that ironically, or am I quoting her out of context? The previous sentence to that amazing revelation was this one: Telling a woman she’s the hottest thing in the bar and being shocked that this, in and of itself, is not a convincing argument for why she should let you see her naked. But flashing your man-meat will seal the deal, if you are Marcotte, anyway, and if we take her word as pair-bond.

In a world where one of the top candidates for the mayor of Amanda’s home, New York City, is the sex-scandal-plagued Anthony Weiner, and he has a wife named Huma Weiner, and a girlfriend named Miss Leathers, and a (former) campaign manager whose name rhymes with “Pet’em”, it is not surprising that Marcotte craves the sausage fest so much that she is advising lovelorn lads to lay them out for her inspection.

Of course, this entire post has all been an effort in quote-mining and other disingenuous bullshit that the enemies of the Men’s Human Rights Movement abuse all the time. Marcotte is an idiot who needs to hire a copy-editor, of course, and her lust for exposed dick was an understandable misspeaking. Consider yourself lucky, Amanda, that no one takes you seriously any more.

 

Editor’s note: feature image by James G. Milles . –PW

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