Finly issues ultimatum to AVFM

Publisher’s note: Two days ago I got an email from someone identifying themselves as Cathy Brennan. Yes, as in “Bug” Brennan, the Aussie Radfem of the Radfem Hub variety. I am not kidding. There is no punch line here. I really got the email. And of all things, she wanted to write an article for AVFM. Rather than try to make sense of that, I will just share the email with you.

Name: Cathy Brennan


Message: Hi,

My name is Cathy Brennan. I run a blog ( about how some men are hurting other men through so -called “trans activism”. I would be interested in writing a guest article. Please get back to me.

Now, while I was deeply touched by Bug Brennan’s compassion and concern for men being hurt, giving her nasty ass a platform to spread hate at AVFM is still not quite on my daily “to do” list.

It did, however, cause me to think that perhaps we have been too exclusive around here. I started thinking that we are past due to give some equal time to the opposition. And no sooner did that thought enter my mind that I received an actual submission, this time from Loy Finley, inventor of the Loy 9000 and living proof that bathing in ethanol will not really clean you up.

I don’t agree with Loy, but I wanted him to have his chance at his say, and at entertaining you all. PE

Mr Pelam.

I am making an announcement and you will no doubt not publish my words on your web-slight. Be as that may, here is my whisper to the ether regardless as I know at least one more Y-Chromo has heard me.

Before I speak of a new Wrongarian called *Tad Henderson I am going to let you hear my thoughts beyond the thin and truncated message that is best left for “comments” on your repellant threads. Your articles that call cloyingly to the scrabble that have oozed as spent lava at your feet.

Know this, you fully encased in a simian bearded oomph, that I see you have been breathing into your great balloon again as always. And such a sight it is to see your flatulance filled dirigible wander drunkenly as it scours the sky,

If that were all it was then so be it. We are used to the ugly ways of the MHRA when they pass us by just as we are with all garish billboards glanced at from passenger windows. But there is more to your itinerant ship than a merely curious freak show that lives to tear the clouds away.

You Mr. Pelam are that great sky ship. The heavy chain that tapers from your bottom is tethered to what seems to be some sort of enormous anchor. It’s no anchor however; it is a wrecking ball that bounces behind you and cuts wide swathes of hatred as its wake.

We watch it aghast as it bursts against our softly tilled soils. Our wimmin tendered gardens that house flowers and vegetables and small species you would perhaps wish to gobble down when you first spy it as a pate or sliced delicacy on a cracker.

No, Mr. Pelam. We Wrongarians demand you deflate your horrid Zepplin and recapture your chain. Collapse this site and tell everyone goodnight as you are erasing this domain. Do it, and do not over think it. Like a robot that you are and the puppet with no agency, I demand you do the said same and do as I say right now.

Mr. Tad Henderson has recently joined my Wrongarian fold and he and I are as one. He speaks as a corrected Y-Chromo and his knees have found the cement in the presence of our golden-wombed betters. He has ripped the scales from his male eyes and sees the beauty around him for the first time. I implore you to be as him to see as him.

He says this in part:

I acknowledge my white male privilege, and accept that my voice should be secondary to those of women, people of color and all else who have been enslaved by Patriarchy.

I am a bi-sexual, a lover of social justice, an avant-garde artist and a person who has awoken to the horror that is the “Men’s Rights Movement.”

This wretched bunch of knuckle dragging halfwits, rape apologists and filth of the Earth, are a threat to the security of women everywhere. We must act. We must destroy this movement in the crib before it grows into raping, hetero-normative, dimwitted privileged man-boys out to set Feminism back 200 years.

I ask for you to join me!

Mr. Pelam. Your sun-dial has long shadows and another inch of time is tapping on your shoulders. When you look behind you now you see nothing but a great expanse of Wrongarians with arms out imploring you to do as I, Loy Finly, have demanded unto you.

Mr. Tad Henderson understands this directive and has said the following;





I suggest you do indeed heed his warning before your Men’s Human Rights Movement wanders without food and water into a sandstorm that skirts the desert of your future direction.

You disgust me.

Loy Finly.

Snr Wrongarian.

World Chapter to Whit.

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