Julie Burchill has had it with women. She has had it with girl talk and with whiny expressions of deep emotions. She prefers the company of men. You know, toxic men, the variety we are all supposed to be rejecting, like one Donald Trump or our supposed autocratic enemies.
Dare we mention that more and more schools across America are teaching boys that there is something radically wrong with them for being boys.
Manliness has gotten a bad name. True enough, Jerry Seinfeld misses the old fashioned manliness, but the new model for a good relationship does not involve anything manly. It feels a lot closer to what occurs among girls. None dare call it a coven.
After all, in the new therapeutically correct description of a good relationship, we find a surfeit of girl talk and deep feelings. Our culture is being girlified at a rapid clip, so it feels right to quote Burchill, to the effect that relationships between women leave a great deal to be desired. I yield to her expertise in the field.
And they do so even for a woman like Burchill, who has considerable feminist sympathies.
She writes:
I’m an utter rad-fem and completely accept that men do most of the damage in this world. I’ve made my own living since I was 17 and never sought a man to support me.
Yet I’ve been married – three times – since I was 18; I’m 64 now and I’ve never been single. As a child, I never dreamt of being a bride or a wife – rather, of being a divorcee – so I can only conclude that I have the marrying habit for the simple reason that it means I always have a male best mate on tap.
What does she like about men? Glad you asked:
What is it about the company of men I prefer? I like the way they have reserved friendships, so far from the exhaustingly emotional ones women go in for. I once said to my third husband: “If Sam had a drink with Alex and they didn’t invite you, would you be hurt?” He looked at me as if I was insane!
And you recall the current mania requires us to preface any discussion of women with the phrase, strong, empowered. It is obviously a vapid piece of nonsense, but still women do it. And they think it is meaningful. Some feminists even think that it makes them stronger and more empowered:
Men don’t give each other mindless pep talks; over the past two decades too many broads have strode around announcing that they are “strong women”, automatically winning a round of applause and shouts of “You go, girl!” from their friends.
If a man announced that he was a “strong man”, his mates would want to see him prove it by pulling a tractor along with his teeth.
Men are less inclined to see all of their relationships in terms of therapy. They do not psycho analyze their everyday interactions, measuring the emotional valence. They do not tell you to get in touch with your feelings or to pour them out all over the kitchen table:
Any man who went around obsessing over the minutiae of daily interaction with his peer group, the way some women do, would immediately be identified by his mates as a raving nutter and exiled forthwith. When a man wants to relax, he will slob out. Or he will pursue a hobby – anything from building models to watching sport.
When men get together they form teams. They put on uniforms, follow rules and compete. Women who get together to form groups with other women rarely have the same purposeful connection:
I don’t mind women from a distance, or one on one (having said that, my least satisfactory romantic relationship was with a woman – all those feelings!) but there’s something about most women in groups (unless they’re high-spirited hen parties, which are appealingly loud and “male”) that give me the “ick”, as the Love Islanders say.
When I first heard about the phenomenon of “menstrual synchrony”, I felt something like revulsion.
Lest you jump to the wrong conclusion, Burchill strongly opposes the presence of men in the women’s locker room. She opposes allowing male beings to compete in women’s sports.
Despite this, I’m a great supporter of single-sex spaces. I fully believe that women have a right to gather together without men shoving their way in, be it in book clubs or on lesbian dating sites. Just don’t invite me, that’s all.
Now if only female athletes would begin to boycott events where they are being forced to compete against males, they would really be strong and empowered. As for the presence of males in female locker rooms, why not film the males and put the pictures up on Pornhub.
And so we see, once again, the wisdom of the aphorism, "Be careful what you wish for because you might get it." For decades, women have been demanding to "overthrow the patriarchy," or some variation on that theme. It is so prevalent that we no longer bother to remark upon it; it is simply taken for granted that women should "roar," thereby cowing men into fearful compliance. Those women found allies among the male homosexual crowd, who saw this as an opportunity to find a more compliant field of potential sexual companions by making sure that their brand of simpering, faux feminity became acceptable, if not eventually dominant in the culture. Once the cultural beachhead had been established, then followed wave upon wave of other debauched and degenerate sexual deviants to claim their place in the new hierarchy, and with each sucessive wave, traditional men were consigned to a lower and lower place in the societal hierarchy. Fathers were denigrated. Marriage was decried as being merely a way for "the patriarchy" to be continued. Government benefits were lavished upon our newest heros, the "single mom." But with few exception, these new societal heroes supplanted our old and established heroes, men who gave all for their ideals, sacrificing themselves in war as well as in more mundane pursuits, like "making a living" to support their wives and children. And now we are witnessing the terminal result of this escapade; the wreck of a once great and flourishing polity. Druggies and gangbangers abound. Feral black and brown shooters rain their violent gunfire on the rest of us, but especially on those sharing their own ethnicity, a fact we are prohibited from noticing. Our political class is dominated by these types, who mouth empty shibboleths about "our democracy" while accruing unto themsleves all the levers of power. So this is what we now are expected to accept in place of "the patriarchy." But there are some who see through the fog of propaganda, like Ms. Burchill, much like the callow lad who remarked publicly that the emperor had no clothes, and sadly note that the victory of feminism has been the defeat of civilized society. It is much like that miserable vermin, Richard Dawkins, who has spent the entirety of his adult life decrying, belittling and attempting to overthrow the Biblical underpinnings of Western Civiliation, who of late has been heard to bemoan the passing of the Christian social compact that enabled him to speak his poison without fear of retribution. He still hates Chiristianity (or, in fact, all religious expression, but especially that which is founded on The Bible) but admits he wants to live in a society that still clings to Biblical Christian values. He, like his feminist counterparts, are the passengers in the lifeboat, the hull of which they have been busily poking holes in, suddenly realiing that they are going to sink along with everyone else in the boat and, probably too late, now express second thoughts about the situation. Curse them all.
Minor thing, but women horning in on the ""man cave" drives me nuts. The wives decorates the entire house, relegating their husbands collection to some corner of the basement or the garage. The husband runs with it -- he takes his NFL memorabilia, or baseball stuff, adds a recliner and a TV, and calls it his "Man Cave." Yeah for him! But then the wife has to have a "she shed" or if the "man cave" takes up too much room, she has to weigh in on the decor. To them, I want to screem: LEAVE HIM ALONE! YOU HAVE THE REST OF THE HOUSE! WHY CAN'T YOU LET HIM HAVE HIS OWN SPACE?
It is everywhere -- magazine, DIY shows, fictional shows. Ugh.
(BTW, I am a woman.)