Roseanne Barr, her son Jake, homophobia,…

…feminist fucktardery and a whole slew of other reasons why no one in that family has a clue.

Someone recently linked me to an article by Jake Pentland, son of Roseanne Barr, a feminist nut farmer in Hawaii who used to be a celebrity.

In the piece titled, “The Smoldering Forest of Man,” Jake lamented what happened to John Wayne at the hands of feminists, then lauded feminism for reconstructing men into something better than they were in the days of, well, John Wayne. Then he set about, in a fashion muddier than Mississippi River bottom water, to tell feminists it was time for them to shut up, but in the next breath he was pondering on how we can be strong men without offending any of them, and most importantly, while being the kind of men feminists say they want us to be.

It is one of the most bizarre examples of cognitive dissonance I have seen in quite a while. I set out to comment on the piece, and did, but by the time I was through writing I knew I would be doing this article. And while I am at it, I do need to acknowledge that I was pretty hard on him, maybe too hard. After all, he was trying, right? He was at least trying to figure out how to hang on to his balls while still allowing his mother to have a grip on his scrotum.

Tough job.

And it is easy to understand how he got there. The conflicts with his mother over this topic are not new. In an article dating back two years on, he got into a heated Twitter exchange with Barr on the “point of feminism.” It was an exchange in which Pentland actually did very well. He held his ground pretty calmly in the face of his mother’s repeated public, highly personal insults. In the spirit of Toronto he qualified for some real red pill kudos for handling himself admirably in the face of bald hatred. Maybe it was the fact that it was his mother that helped. I don’t know, though. If she were my mother I would pen a Mommy Dearest and make it available for free download.

The sparring between them continued a year later on his Blog Talk Radio Show. If you think her Tweets were vile, get a load of this.

And here I have to side track for just a moment to point something out. Barr is no exception to all the schmaltz and hot air feminists have always generated about being inclusive and supporting the issues faced by gay men. She was so outraged by the Chic Fil-A gay marriage controversy that she Tweeted, “anyone who eats Shit Fil-A deserves to get the cancer that is sure to come from eating antibiotic filled tortured chickens 4Christ.”

She later sorta-kinda apologized for the remark.

She is also a big supporter of the GLBT community in Hollywood. She was named The Advocate’s “Person of the Year” in 1994 and included in its “Heroes” list for pushing producers and network executives to start employing realistic portrayals of gay characters on television.

But what was the insult of choice Barr threw at her son when he wasn’t being of service to her ideology?

That’s right, you are one faggot motherfucker. True to feminist form, Barr talks a lot of shit about social justice and equality for gay human beings, only to prove with the kind of honesty that only spontaneous anger can produce, that she is one hypocritical sack of macadamia nuts.

But that is enough about Barr. She is, after all, par for the course for feminists.

The real point of this, believe it or not, is that it leaves me with at least some empathy for her son, and perhaps how he ended up on his currently courageous but confused path.

If you read his article, available here, what you will see is a man struggling hard, and failing, to divorce himself of a lifetime of spoon fed feminist bullshit, about men, but more importantly about himself.

Between the lines of his defiance against feminism is apologia for that defiance; the telltale pleading for acceptance from the very source that has poisoned his mind for his entire life. He seeks to dismiss feminism, while seeking to comply with its dictates. He seeks to defend men, while accepting the canard of their innate danger and inherent need to be re-engineered into something better.

He is trying to reject his mother’s teaching, while still hanging on to her love. And he does so even though that love is and always has been contingent on his compliance with her twisted worldview.

Got news for you Jake, the only way you can please a feminist is by cutting your own nuts off. There is no middle ground, and the quicker you quit looking for it the better off you will be. John Wayne gave us feminism on crack by coddling people like your mother; by regarding her as an incompetent child with which a real man does not argue – he just gives her whatever she wants with a wink and a nudge and with the willingness to sell out any other man to do it.

John Wayne is not your answer any more than Homer Simpson. They are just two punching bags, one of them with a cowboy hat.

The way to rise above all this is by rejecting both of them. That does not mean rejecting the care of people you love, or forsaking your strength. In fact, it means calling on a form of strength you never knew was possible; through a path to manhood that rejects your being demeaned as as a bumbling fool – or exploited as a sacrificial hero. It means tossing feminism overboard, your mother with it if necessary, and rejecting all the traditional programming that leaves you undermining that rejection with apologies and excuses for yourself that are not needed.

It means claiming manhood in your own eyes and no others. And by recognizing that the only thing wrong with you at all is that you are still not over the self-hatred that your mother made sure was stuck in your gut.

You are on the right path, but you have not figured out yet that there is no room on it for you, and your shame. That shame has to go. All it will ever do is confuse you and slow you down.

A man can love his mother and still tell her to shut the fuck up.

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