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L is for Love
This post is part of the ongoing Alphabet Series. Listen along to my recording on YouTube and/or read the article below ♥♀
It’s a thin line between love and hate…
from the 1971 song of the same name by The Persuaders
Now, it’s a funny thing. This song was written by a couple of dudes and one of their complicit females warning other dudes that women can be crazy bitches. The gist is that women are happy to be used by men because that’s what women were designed for – but only up to a certain unknown point. And if you manage to reach your woman’s limit, watch out! She might maim or even kill you! This is a tired variation on the ‘hell hath no fury as a woman scorned’ theme. And most men and many women believe this stereotype to be true. But the reality is that women seldom, if ever, take revenge upon men, even if revenge is the least that men deserve after committing relationship atrocities. If women take any action in an abusive relationship, it is most often just fleeing – with a suitcase, if she’s lucky. See the craziest thing that women actually do is not taking revenge upon men, but bothering to get involved with them at all.
The song title, in actuality, is a much more appropriate description of the male approach to relationships with women, but with one major difference. Males don’t need to be abused or even have any kind of real excuse to snap and get violent. So often their love is violence of one sort or another. All women know this on some level as we are all told as girls that boys show us that they like us by antagonizing us or hitting us. But there is this expectation that they will somehow grow out of it – maybe after death – and besides there is a good one out there somewhere, right? So, women end up accepting that male love can look a lot like hate, and an expression of male love can turn into an expression of hate as if at the flip of a switch. Male emotionality is shallow, but intense and volatile. Let’s just say that male love is to human emotion as azidoazide azide is to chemistry. Personally, I think that ‘crazy bitch’ is a much more apt description of a man. And PMS actually stands for Permanent Man Syndrome. You see, Man, not Woman, is the wildly unpredictable, violently hormonal, nutjob breeding machine. And it isn’t monthly and temporary, but constant and forever. And in my tradition of mutating scrote-quotes, I say “Hell hath no fury as a man in love.”
Anyhow, despite the beginnings of this post, my purpose here is not to scratch the surface of heterosexual dynamics to reveal in shock and horror the countless examples of how men express their love for women. I have a whole Love=Hate series for what men do inside and outside relationships with women. And to be honest, straight woman problems are not only completely preventable, but their repetitiveness is boring as is women’s insistence on going back for more and more. I’m sick of hearing about them, and likely, some of you are as well. I think it’s very easy to become psychologically addicted to suffering – living it, complaining about it, reading about it, and ultimately doing nothing about it because pain has become your constant companion and what would you ever do without it? But that is a different, although related, topic, which I won’t get into today.
What I want to talk about is why humanity seems to be obsessed with love and pretending it is something other than it really is. It is treated as though it is the reason for our existence, and it seems to be much more of a distraction than even happiness or scheming to get rich. Why do I say this? Well, look at what passes for entertainment in the human world. There are more novels, songs, poems, fairy tales, artwork, and films about love than about any other topic. And of course, the bulk of this entertainment is created by males. But while it is superficially aimed at women and girls, everything is ultimately designed to serve males. I remember back when I was a teenager when it struck me for the first time as I was watching television that I was not actually the intended audience, and the messaging was not intended to lift me up as a female. I gradually came to realize that all creative material was that way – mostly designed by men for the male gaze and the male brain, but also designed to distract and brainwash women consuming the content. None of this entertainment, including television, is supposed to be analyzed from a female, let alone feminist, perspective. Even analysis of literature and poetry seldom gets feminist critique, and in this way, deeply misogynistic work, even if it is pretending to be empowering to women, can still get two thumbs up and win literary awards. Love ends up being defined by men, but obsessed over by women, even though men and women experience love fundamentally differently. I find that so many of our vaunted love stories would be more aptly categorized as ‘hate stories’. Yet women embrace them, and men profit from them.
Despite love being the central theme in entertainment, and thus making us believe that love is the most important thing in life, you need only to look at works of non-fiction to see what men really believe in. I’m going to borrow from the American experience to illustrate this, because as leaders of the so-called Free World who fought so hard for their liberation, what they say matters and often guides fledgling democracies. And besides, after dictatorships, no country does sloganeering and propaganda like the US.
If you go back to American beginnings, men define what is important in their Declaration of Independence: Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness. This is the foundational American slogan, and men still quote it today when outlining their rights as men and as Americans. Note that there is no love there. It’s not important. The inclusion of ‘the pursuit of hapiness’ was actually a replacement for the right to own ‘property’, which Jefferson did out of respect for black Americans (although remember that men could still legally own women), and is thought to have little meaning other than a subjective one. Male happiness could include drinking whiskey with abandon in a saloon, raping a prostitute and then going home and raping his wife, or killing animals for sport. And all of these could technically fit the definition of male love as well, I suppose, as vice, violence, glee and love seem to get twisted in the male mind. Women weren’t included in these important life elements – property, by definition, has no life, no freedom, and may not define their own happiness – but we know that males have always defined female love as sacrifice, devotion, loyalty, service, and suffering in silence. These are the themes of love stories, the propaganda men design to define female existence.
I leave you with this question and my opinion. If women, and I mean female separatists, of course, were ever to write their own declaration of independence, would they include ‘love’ in the list of rights? I think not, and I’ll tell you why. Under patriarchy, love is a tool of manipulation designed to keep women in line, distracted, focused on fantasy and hoping, and constantly feeling off-balance and insecure. Only patriarchal women cling to the pursuit of love and obsess over it, puzzling over the fact that expressions of male and female love look very different. Outside of patriarchy, I think love would be an outcome of female freedom, not a pursuit. Without men in the picture, love would not need to be listed in the rights and demands of women because it would just exist outside of context and wouldn’t be a bargaining chip used in power plays. I think relationships would look very different, as would artistic expression. And it certainly wouldn’t have any connection with violence.
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Fell in Love With a Girl
Fell in love with a girl
I fell in love once and almost completely
She’s in love with the world
But sometimes these feelings can be so misleading
She turns and says, “Are you alright?”
I said, “I must be fine ’cause my heart’s still beating”The White Stripes
Once every couple of years, I fall in love with a girl, or I suppose woman is the better word. And perhaps love is not the best word to use because I don’t think I believe in love, much in the way that I don’t believe in happiness. I don’t believe in constant states. I believe in outliers and their undue influence – we tend to remember extremes and they colour our memories of the past and general impressions of the current state of things. More specifically, a few spectacularly great experiences are likely to make us overestimate how great life is, and conversely, a series of equally spectacularly horrible experiences is likely to darken our perception of our state of affairs. So, I’ve found it better to appreciate moments, positive or negative, for what they are, and in this way, I don’t have to pretend that things that don’t truly exist are real. (Guess why I could never be religious, even at an early age…?)
I’m meandering down some path I didn’t intend to, so let’s trot back to the trailhead. So yeah, every so often, I meet a woman that I ‘fall in love with’ briefly. I think I used to fall hard when I was younger, but as Jack White said above, “Sometimes these feelings can be so misleading.” And I learned. See, it’s never an available person that I fall for – and no, I don’t intentionally create these situations so that I have an excuse not to ‘commit’ to someone. It’s just that the women I tend to be attracted to seldom meet the crucial criteria for relationship-making.
First, they are almost always ‘straight’. Yeah, I put that in quotes. I don’t believe in heterosexuality for women. I remember watching Todo Sobre Mi Madre back in 1999, and one of the characters (I think one of the drag queens, actually, which sullies the sentiment and turns it into a bit of a joke, but whatever…) comments something to that extent – that all women have a bit of lesbian in them. And I would have completed the thought by saying that almost all women have the lesbian stamped and shamed out of them early in life. All this is to say that I’m attracted to women whose inborn lesbian shines like a beacon, despite the hetero life they are living and whatever their expressed feelings about lesbians are.
Another issue is age. I keep forgetting how old I am. I don’t live a life typical of a woman my age, my heart is young despite any wisdom gained from experience, and I seldom get to meet or spend time with my age group because of my lifestyle and mindset. So I either tend to meet women who are a lot older or a lot younger, and while I am fine with cross-generational friendship, I don’t think romantic relationships between people with large age gaps are appropriate. I don’t like power imbalances, and age can be a major source of imbalance and resulting creepiness. Not quite as bad between women as it is between men and women, I think, but still… I have principles and comfort levels that are derived from those principles.
The other major issue is values/beliefs. Even if I were to meet an age-appropriate lesbian, it would be hard to meet someone who puts women first, who is a female separatist, who isn’t in the mother-worship cult, who isn’t anti-white, and who sees the trans bullshit for what it is – an anti-woman, anti-lesbian, conservative, rape-apologist, male-energy-driven shit-show.
And finally, I’m looking for a companion, not someone who espouses straight thinking on what relationships should be (sex-driven: no sex = no relationship). That doesn’t mean an aphysical relationship – physical affection is great from my point of view. I think not wanting to touch or be touched is a sign of some very serious trauma. But I’m not looking for a fuck-buddy. I think I’ve had enough of that in my life, and it didn’t provide or solve much for me. Bottom line is it’s hard to imagine meeting a woman like myself ideologically who also wants a companion.
All of this is to say that I’ve fallen in love again, and it is another go-nowhere situation, sadly. I’ve found myself in a difficult (workwise), but otherwise socially interesting situation. I’m working in a girls’ school (one of the reasons I jumped at the job offer – I really hate teaching boys…), and almost all of the teaching staff and most of the administration are female. And it is culturally quite different from my native homeland and China, where lived for so long. In North America, females are physically rather cold to one another. It varies greatly, but generally, as a culture, there is a huge anti-lesbian sentiment, and that drives the stigma against excessive physical contact between women. China is much worse in some ways. While girls and women can hold hands if they are family or close friends, it is not a physically affectionate culture, generally speaking. They don’t hug, and they certainly don’t kiss in an affectionate way like many other cultures. I actually like physical affection. I’m touchy, although I’ve learned to be hyper-aware of modern Western hypersensitivity, so I’ve probably become more reserved over the years.
Where I currently live and work (it’s the same thing, currently…), physical affection abounds. It is refreshing – I feel like I’ve had to bottle myself up for so many years, in the uptight places I’ve found myself. But it is very multicultural here, AND it is also extremely sex-segregated. The few males that work at my school have separate rooms for working and eating, which is Awesome with a capital A, and likely due to Muslim values in this area. It’s funny to think that I agree with this very traditional way of thinking, and we might actually agree with the reasoning for the segregation on some levels, but at the same time, I would probably be fired if they found out I wasn’t straight and that I think that women are superior to men in all ways, and that all males should be microchipped at birth… Now, I can’t speak for how things work with the men at my workplace, but among the women, I’d say that the female affection mostly comes from the local people and what appears to be strong Turkish influence. I don’t get the impression that the locals of Russian heritage are driving it – they seem to be cold in the way that North Americans generally are, but I’ll admit that I know little about Russian culture, in general. It just seems cold to me and reminiscent of home.
Of all the people with whom I work – and as I said, we are rather multicultural – the Turkish women are my favourites. They are exuberant, kind, welcoming and confident. And as you may have guessed, I’ve fallen for one of them. She is closer to my age, and while not what I’d call beautiful in a traditional way, walks with a confidence and energy that is just sexy and I just want to be around it and her. And we click. She has a sense of humour, and I think she likes the weirdo in me (the comfortably conservative of the women at my workplace, on the other hand, are comfortably uncomfortable with my energy – nothing unexpected or new there). I really wish I could spend time with this lovely woman, but she is married with children. Just my luck. I’ll just have to appreciate the moment while it lasts and for what it is.
Perhaps my next job should be in Turkey…
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Creating To Hate: The Making of the Bitch and the Whore
Whoever said that men weren’t creative beings? Well, they are. In a way. They’re creative in much the same way that they are capable of love. It is very different from how women love. Men love beer, or cars, or evolutionary biology, or vindictive deities, or women in pretty much the same way – without nuance. The ‘love’ is shallow, but intense, and is both self-oriented and self-serving. Men don’t love as a selfless act or in a way that helps someone (or something) other than themselves. Men love beer because it dulls existential pain, might be pleasurable on the tongue, and gives them a way of shirking rape charges in the rare case that a woman is stupid enough to speak truth about her violation in public. In the same way, when men love people, it is because the object of love serves them in some way. He isn’t selflessly giving himself to the person, he is telling us that he has use for her. “I love you” means: “Currently, I am getting some use and pleasure from you. And that may change tomorrow if you fail to please me in some way.” The object is always replaceable, and if not replaced, the man in question usually falters in some significant way. Men who lose a long-term wife-slave seldom live very long after her death. The same is not true of women as male love is not about taking care of women in the ways that matter. Women usually find their freedom after spousal death. But that is male love. It is self-serving and highly conditional upon the love-object delivering what is expected and making no demands in return. And often, in men, love lies on the knife blade’s edge with their hatred, and sometimes, they are completely indistinguishable. Love often resembles hate just as male-defined sex is practically indistinguishable from rape. And so, a man can emotionally abuse, rape and beat a woman and call it love. And an emotional apology to her afterwards coupled with the word ‘love’ will always win a woman over because she understands emotion and tears and apologies and gifts. For her that is love – the giving. For a man though, he is afraid of losing his object, and will do and say anything to avoid losing his power.
The creative drive in men is similar. Men create for several reasons – all of them self-serving. Men create to consume. They create to gain power and money. They create to gain envy and admiration. They create to satisfy various fantasies (all of which are destructive to the object being used). Underlying much of this is a fundamental truth: they create objects to hate and to direct their rage at.
And so we have Woman.
Now I’ve written in the past that we have never known what a natural woman is. I’ve discussed the interaction of nature and nurture and how they affect males and females differently (here) and how we can tell what is natural and unnatural behaviour (here). I believe that not only are men solely allowed to be natural creatures, but that females – or Woman – is a completely constructed being. She is the crowning glory of men’s creative output. She changes over time and across cultures to reflect what men believe their rights (also what they call their ‘needs’) to be. But, the common theme across time and place has always been that Woman is a fuckhole (or series of fuckholes) and a baby-factory. She is forced to be dependent on men for survival, while at the same time is threatened by these very same men. She lives in a continuous, boner-producing loop of fear of and love for her oppressor (aka Stockholm Syndrome). She is his biggest fan and greatest defender, even as she cowers from him and fears the constant threat his existence signifies to her. Woman exhibits a highly unnatural set of behaviours all designed to suit male purposes (domination, quelling feelings of inadequacy, sado-sexual pleasure, material for comedy, etc).
But all artists tend to have a current of self-loathing running through them. It fuels them by producing angst – and the creative drive. And Woman, as a male creation, serves another important purpose for him. She is the ultimate object of his hate. He has created something to use, something that is the exact opposite of what he feels he himself is, and in doing so, he creates something to loathe. He loves what he has created in the way that he is capable of love as I described above, but the angst-ridden artist can never achieve perfection – actual women can never meet his expectation of perfection – so he ends up hating his creation. He creates something to ‘love’ (use), but it is also something to hate and continually mock and try to destroy. She allows him to avoid directly destroying himself, although by destroying Woman, is actually is destroying everything, including himself.
I talk about female slurs more in depth in another post, but I’ll briefly mention them here as they are also the main archetypes that males love to hate. I’m referring to the Bitch and the Whore.
The Bitch was initially a dehumanizing reference to Woman’s forced role as a breeding dog. Men denied her entrance to almost every other possible role in society. It’s what he wanted and needed to assert his dominance, and he also hated her for it. Imagine putting a bird in a cage, denying it access to the sky, and then commenting that not only do birds never ever fly, but they don’t even want to or like to fly. They may perhaps not even be designed for flying despite the fact that they have wings. And the satisfying conclusion, “Stupid, useless, fucking birds. At least they make the cage look good!” This has been woman’s story since time began. Men forced Woman into a breeding dog role, prevented her from doing anything else with her life, and erroneously saw this as proof that she neither wanted to do nor was capable of doing anything else. All this despite a highly evolved brain and the same (or greater) capacity for skill mastery as men. “Stupid, useless, fucking bitches. At least, they make ME look good.”
The Bitch, more recently, has become a replacement term for Woman. Before this, as some women started to openly question their caged existence and the male creative drive, it used to be used most often to refer to a woman who pointed out or interfered with men’s privilege and brutality. But these days, if you pay attention to media, entertainment, daily conversations, output from gay and black culture, etc., you’ll see that in many ways, Bitch is now equal to Woman. And, strangely enough, the trannies – men in dresses – are taking over the word ‘woman’ for themselves. How did we get here…? The intensity and normalization of woman-hate in Western countries is reflected by how little attention hate speech such as this and other woman-slurs receive. I mean really, television will bleep out ‘fuck’, but not ‘bitch’. And all racial and ethnic slurs produce a cringe-factor in all people these days and are NEVER heard on television. Opposing a woman-slur gets you laughed at or an admonishment for not having your priorities straight (e.g., focusing instead on racism). Nope, woman hate is at an all-time high, and is completely brushed under the carpet. Men’s creative juices are still flowing, and Woman is becoming more and more unnatural with every iteration.
We also have the Whore. Since the beginning of time, men have creatively allowed a second role for Woman because it served an extremely important purpose for them. She is the Whore – a rejected woman; an unlucky woman; a confused, abused, misguided woman; and in essence, a woman who serves male sexual ‘needs’ in all ways. In the past, women were disallowed into the economy, and completely dependent on men for survival. One wrong move or a piece of bad luck, and she was forced into renting her body to every male in order to live (as opposed to selling her body to one man as a wife). In reality, if women were free from men and living naturally, they would never have even conceived of selling their bodies. But as per creative male design, putting Woman into a situation where she must service cock to survive allowed men an outlet for their sexual depravity as well as a very convenient object for their hate and rage. The Bitch was/is hated, but the Whore is hated more. Another love/hate object. Men tell us they are entitled to the use of whores, while at the same time castigating them and denying them humanity. They are hated and wanted and used by religious and atheist, conservative and liberal men alike. In the present day, capitalist men tell us that selling your cunt is a legitimate business, just like flipping burgers. But, unlike the burger-flipper, men hate and abuse whores. Truly, though, men see all women as whores. Some are public (prostitutes, strippers, etc.) and some are private (girlfriends, wives, etc.) The Whore is also a convenient construction used to divide women. Private whores are threatened by public whores and vice versa. Pitting these women against once another is part of the male plan of hate and control, and it works well. But underneath it all, public Whore, private Whore, and Bitch are really all one and the same… Woman.
One thing to know is that these archetypes, and the slurs themselves, will NEVER go away. They are a crucial part of the male system of violence and hate and creation and ‘love’ that was designed by men long ago. It is impossible to imagine a world where men exist and creative hate doesn’t. Men talk about the feminization/pussification of society, and this is exactly what they are getting at. They can’t exist without violence and woman-hate. They are threatened by the idea of dismantling their system by the introduction of natural female qualities of fairness, empathy, knowledge- and truth-seeking, love, etc. They fear the removal of hate and violence, the very things that give men meaning and purpose and that currently underlie every single society in existence. They fear the eradication of their greatest creation – the Whore/Bitch. They don’t have to worry though, no one is fighting them. Quite the opposite, actually.
[This post is part of the Love = Hate series.]
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Update on the Chinese Stalker
I just posted on my interaction with a young Chinese male potential stalker. I tried to talk him down for two reasons.
- First, and most important, I was concerned about the woman he was interested in stalking. If I can prevent harm to a specific woman or girl at the hands and dicks of men, I’ll do it. We are constantly in danger from both male strangers and especially the males we know. Men act, first and foremost, for selfish reasons, and if a woman is destroyed in the process of a man getting what he wants, nobody gives even half a shit. I give a shit. I give the mother lode of shits.
- Second, if I can shape the thinking of a single man, I stand the chance of saving scores of women and girls from future harm. It’s along the lines of that old proverb: “Give a person a fish and she’ll eat for a day. Teach a person to fish and she’ll eat for a lifetime.” Big picture. Strategic thinking. Preventative medicine. All that.
Anyhow, I do keep in touch with many of my students through a Chinese-based chat program and I heard from young dude last night. There were some positive things said, but I am not clear about whether he still intends to stalk his ex-girlfriend. There was some ambiguity at the end. Here is the exchange:
Dude: Today you said that happiness comes from our inside heart. And I half agree with that as I believe that our beloved ones are the source of half our happiness. Sometimes we still have to lay half of our happiness on the outside world like our beloved ones
Me: It is important for each of us to decide what it is that makes us happy. And then to set out to achieve it.
Dude: Thank you for teaching me that “if one side wants it, but the other side doesn’t want it, then the relationship cannot happen.” It gave me courage. And I have finally decided to let go of my ex-love.
Me: That is difficult, but good news. It is hard to see things when you are feeling pain. But with time, you’ll see that something better will happen for you. You are making a good, strong decision by letting go.
Dude: If possible, I still hope I could have a chance of reunion with her.
Me: That may just be a dream. But I would suggest letting it go. When a woman says no, she must be respected.
Dude: Thanks
—
Argh!!! I was feeling positive about him letting her go until I read his last statement. “if possible” “I still hope”.
Fuck! Let her go man!
Well, I tried.








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