I got on Twitter, after relaxing as often is the case, and, as has been the case lately. I see a lot of focus on "Feminism". So I figured, I would give a few words, on the issue. Now, because I am a male, this may very well upset a few people who might happen to read this. Honestly, I don't care, if you're somehow innate to the ability of processing what I'm saying, and you take it as the means of "bashing women" then you're ignorant. And I apologize for your inability to perceive something as more than that. Now that being said, I shall move into this.
I'm all for equality. But I disrespect with an entirety, the use of the word "Feminism". I don't disrespect the word with entirety based on the concept of wanting to be treated as equals, no. But, while you assert this concept that you are speaking on behalf of a particular lens (female/women parties) and there is some fear, that changing this lens focus, might somehow wade away the concentration on the particular topic and it's geared motion. I feel that individuals need be reminded, you are attempting to reach out to ask for equal status on this ground in which men have this ornate power structure, supposedly. Now before you start burning at the wick wanting to bite my head off, please continue to read first. I will explain the supposedly soon enough. At any rate, attempting to reach out to men, while thine choice is to inherit the name literally geared towards empowering women, comes across as "self-defeating" I mean, you cannot claim equality, and yet gear towards empowerment over the "evil men". Now Emma Watson's speech was very touching, very well posed, and, I felt that she was in a very good place with this. More so than has been in the past. But, here's where that 'supposedly' comes in.
Now, while I will agree. Women do-not make as much as the average white male. Women do-not have the same welcoming atmospheres and environments as the average white male. And women are all too often seen as "sexual objects". Emma did the right thing by starting to open the flood gate, but, she did not address it with a whole-heart either. I say this, because while you may focus on the sense of men being unable to address their feelings, and so forth you have to also dig deeper. How many men, are made to feel less than, because "Feminism" as a movement, while it is geared toward equality, all too-often welcomes misandry. How many of us, have never treated women as purely sexual objects, and can without a doubt say if she is working these hours, at this job, and Pete over here, for lack of a better name is working the same job for these hours. Then she, deserves the same rights, and pay as Pete. And, will defend that women shouldn't be viewed as "accepting of being raped/or willing to have sex" just because they happen to recount events with such detail only a short time later, or, that women should not be viewed as sex objects, based on the clothes they wear, and the means of which they hold themselves, anymore than men should. And yet, even being a person of such defenses, we have to hear things like: "Only men would do something that stupid." "Men are the cause of all chaos." "Men do this." "Men do that." and let us not forget, the ever undying joke of how "Men are pigs" which, let's be real, we can be, but, if someone is going to have the audacity to call me a "pig" let it be because I've done something to offend them personally, not because someone TEN YEARS AGO, did something to offend this puff-coated, arrogantly bold, little princess, by hurting her feelers, and now suddenly it's ALL MEN ARE PIGS.
How many men, have had their rights stripped from them, as parents, not because they were less-than when it came to providing, not because they did a damned thing wrong, in the sense of caring for the child, loving the child, being the father. And in some cases, even had the wife gain full custody, while she was the one poisoning the well, so to speak, where she would go on, to teach these children to hate their father, only because she could not make the relationship work. And the system allows for this on the basis that a mother is somehow more-relevant in a child's life than a father. On a basis, that women are some how more emotionally put together, then men. How many men, are degraded under the contexts that they should be able to handle tougher jobs, because men should just naturally be tougher, and the system sees it this way. And for those men who are hurt, by women in a former life, I grant that there will be some, who take it out on women, personally, I have yet to see it, but I mean it's a natural act, apparently, so I'm sure there has to be "some" out there. But, if we put one "male" (who didn't act like a chauvinistic pig) in a group of "feminists" and one "feminist" (who didn't play the misandry herself here to be fair) into a group of "men". Which group is more likely to tear the individual down. The group of feminists, or the group of "men"? Be honest now.
So, I said I would explain using the word "supposedly". I'm not using this in the sense "Your issues are not real" I'm using it in the sense "there are issues on both sides of the board, and you cannot blame all men, for your inability to receive fair treatment, anymore than I can blame you that society thinks I should be a cold-hearted stone of a son of a bitch, that should just accept the crap that gets thrown my way".
And so, finally, here it is, my final wording, on this issue. I support equality, and actually I see no reason for anyone to fight this, unless they are the persons in power, not wanting to pass the extra 30 cents. In which case, I hate the person in power, and I say, fuck the authoritarian prick who can't pull the cock out of his own ass, out of a fear that there be one other person more powerful than he is. But, I won't support feminism, because feminism does not currently create a concept of being about "equality" it has a focal lens placed solely on fixing women's problems, and while those problems very truly do exist. I do not support a woman proclaiming that her problems are anymore serious than ours. And I do not support, and frown upon greatly misandry, where in all men are to be blamed for the act of the one or few. And if you are one of the feminists, and reading this. If you can honestly say you've NEVER done this, then I applaud you, and I support you in your endeavors go forth brave woman of tomorrow, and do not fear change. However, if you look upon this, and you can honestly sit and think "Have I stated that men are pigs? Have I belittled a man for the sake of attempting to change paradigm?" And you figured out that you have. I am appalled at your behavior. You should be ashamed of yourself, because not only are you striking out at innocent people, but you're setting back a legit movement, with your bullshit, and I feel the need to remind you, if you have nothing nice to say or at least, cannot have the decency to say mean things about both sides, rather than simply pointing the finger at one party when it takes two to fuck shit up, then you should shut your mouth. Same goes to any men who do the same shit. That counts for you boys and your "she's a whore" antics too. She's not a whore just because she won't sleep with you, and in fact, that makes her the opposite, so shut the hell up. Thank you.
Monday, September 22, 2014
Sunday, September 14, 2014
Escaping The Rock (Mini) (Introduction)
Thunder crackled, emitting a radiant orange light that split through the blue glow of the skies above. Overwhelmed by the feeling of fresh breath after a long depth, Olivia burst from a bed of leaves drawing a deep gasp, broken by the thickly filled hack, drawing crimson gold from between her lips, that easily painted her chin it's special brand of red. And, no sooner did Olivia allow herself to let out the most minute whimper, every feeling replaced itself with dread, staring out upon the painted face, hunched to one knee, staring back at her. The atmosphere for a death bed, for this young lady, with the silver spun curls of browned hair, a hole punctured through the left portion of her midsection, an arrow still embedded between the meat, separating it just so, that in breathing, one could see behind the flesh, where her rather weak abdominal muscles clinched in around the object, before betraying her with more blood loss by the second. And for the hunted, the hunter. A behemoth of men, rising from his knee, and towering over her, his face in white paint, in the skull-esque mask of some harbinger of death, hidden beneath a thin veil of a robe and hood, before his left arm raised, and he prepared to shoot upon her again, giving her only seconds to scuttle from her spot where she had just been laid to rest.
Olivia's heart felt as though it had stopped. And her chest clinch ever tighter, just to the feeling of burning emanating from her left cheek as the arrow burst through tree bark, shattering it, and causing it to graze her in passing. Her body took to pace, running as though she would never stop, if only not for it bringing her to the world's end. A cliff where it's heights were so, that it was masked by the view below, in a discoloration and collection of air turned wet, cold, and deeply kinetic creating the illusion of an entire void, up and down, coming to swallow her whole if she only dare venture one more step. She turned, to witness the blue, nearly lifeless lips of her hunter, as they curl into some twisted grin, and he motioned away his bow, for something much heavier. Raising the battle axe above his head. "There's no where to go, little girl." Now, she had only two options, dive to a certain death, either toward the cliff, or toward him, so she prepared a stance as he edge ever closer, preparing to charge toward him head on. Suddenly a collection of energy dispelled both their senses in blinding white light, that reverberate the ground between them, and shot up with such a force, that the hunters axe, shattered into pieces of pieces, so small it appeared like glass being blasted through the air behind him, and forcing him into an embedding of dust below his back. Now, tables turned. The hunter raise his head, and witnessed the dirty blonde hair strands hanging before the forest green, and sea blue eyes, amassed in a sea of flame that rose from ankle to shoulder, until shaken off from the leather with a wisped left to right action. And with two very similar crashes, the hunter now found himself surrounded, as two more figures raise from their craters. One dressed in a purple hoodie, that read, 'Apocalypse me now'. while he stare from beneath it's hood, through hot pink lenses, and rolled smoke through the fabric of lesser pink bandanna, with a heavy grunt. The second, in a shroud of black that hung loosely as he raised to his feet, his hair parted much like the very first of the fallen, over younger flesh. And he pulled it back, before using his middle digit, pushing a pair of thickly framed glasses along his nose, both adjusting the glasses, and giving the hunter the finger.
For a moment. Everything stood still, given to silence. A short moment indeed, where time itself stopped, and it seemed as if each of the three newcomers locked their sights on the hunter, with such intent. It brought him discomfort, in a familiar burning sensation. "You think you can save her? Your magic tricks won't swing this one. No one defy the order!" The hunter bellow, but was taken in by the left handed grasped of the hooded fallen, before his right hand raised from above his head, violently pummeling down upon his skull, destroying the painted face with a thick layer of blue-green blood, before the hunter drew back, and swung with his entire upper body against the fallen's chin, only causing his head to jerk to one side, then he used his head violently battering it against the hunter, until the hunter reached into his belt, and the third narrow his eyes staring at that hand, then capturing the metallic gleam, as it reflect from his lens. "Bob, get back!" The hooded fallen responded to the hollering of his name, by using the palm of his hand to thrust the hunter back away from him with an explosive force, and just as the hunter raised the knife, and readied to throw it at Bob, the first of the fallen rush forward, leaving only a blurred view, a mixture of sound between splitting air, mixing liquid, and striking stone, before he was at a kneel, with his forehead rested against the handle of a massive sword struck into the Earth, while the hunter's body gushed forth a river of the blue-green fluid first, before falling away at an angled cut below his right arm, to his left hip, and the insides simply fell out. "Please, don't scream ma'dam." The third attempted to reason, but to no avail of stopping Olivia's panic, naturally, so he drew in with a haste, clasping his hands around hers that swung ever so frantically, and forced them to a tightly clutched ball before her abdomen. "I am Rin. This, is Bob." Bob, gave a politely drawn wave of his wrist before flopping down against the hard ground on his ass, with a highly dramatic sigh of relief. "and, that one.." He paused directing his brother to place his sword away. "He is Shelby." Shelby turned to face Olivia, showing the tilted 'Z' glowing from his right eye. "I assure you, we have come to help you find leave of this place."
Olivia's heart felt as though it had stopped. And her chest clinch ever tighter, just to the feeling of burning emanating from her left cheek as the arrow burst through tree bark, shattering it, and causing it to graze her in passing. Her body took to pace, running as though she would never stop, if only not for it bringing her to the world's end. A cliff where it's heights were so, that it was masked by the view below, in a discoloration and collection of air turned wet, cold, and deeply kinetic creating the illusion of an entire void, up and down, coming to swallow her whole if she only dare venture one more step. She turned, to witness the blue, nearly lifeless lips of her hunter, as they curl into some twisted grin, and he motioned away his bow, for something much heavier. Raising the battle axe above his head. "There's no where to go, little girl." Now, she had only two options, dive to a certain death, either toward the cliff, or toward him, so she prepared a stance as he edge ever closer, preparing to charge toward him head on. Suddenly a collection of energy dispelled both their senses in blinding white light, that reverberate the ground between them, and shot up with such a force, that the hunters axe, shattered into pieces of pieces, so small it appeared like glass being blasted through the air behind him, and forcing him into an embedding of dust below his back. Now, tables turned. The hunter raise his head, and witnessed the dirty blonde hair strands hanging before the forest green, and sea blue eyes, amassed in a sea of flame that rose from ankle to shoulder, until shaken off from the leather with a wisped left to right action. And with two very similar crashes, the hunter now found himself surrounded, as two more figures raise from their craters. One dressed in a purple hoodie, that read, 'Apocalypse me now'. while he stare from beneath it's hood, through hot pink lenses, and rolled smoke through the fabric of lesser pink bandanna, with a heavy grunt. The second, in a shroud of black that hung loosely as he raised to his feet, his hair parted much like the very first of the fallen, over younger flesh. And he pulled it back, before using his middle digit, pushing a pair of thickly framed glasses along his nose, both adjusting the glasses, and giving the hunter the finger.
For a moment. Everything stood still, given to silence. A short moment indeed, where time itself stopped, and it seemed as if each of the three newcomers locked their sights on the hunter, with such intent. It brought him discomfort, in a familiar burning sensation. "You think you can save her? Your magic tricks won't swing this one. No one defy the order!" The hunter bellow, but was taken in by the left handed grasped of the hooded fallen, before his right hand raised from above his head, violently pummeling down upon his skull, destroying the painted face with a thick layer of blue-green blood, before the hunter drew back, and swung with his entire upper body against the fallen's chin, only causing his head to jerk to one side, then he used his head violently battering it against the hunter, until the hunter reached into his belt, and the third narrow his eyes staring at that hand, then capturing the metallic gleam, as it reflect from his lens. "Bob, get back!" The hooded fallen responded to the hollering of his name, by using the palm of his hand to thrust the hunter back away from him with an explosive force, and just as the hunter raised the knife, and readied to throw it at Bob, the first of the fallen rush forward, leaving only a blurred view, a mixture of sound between splitting air, mixing liquid, and striking stone, before he was at a kneel, with his forehead rested against the handle of a massive sword struck into the Earth, while the hunter's body gushed forth a river of the blue-green fluid first, before falling away at an angled cut below his right arm, to his left hip, and the insides simply fell out. "Please, don't scream ma'dam." The third attempted to reason, but to no avail of stopping Olivia's panic, naturally, so he drew in with a haste, clasping his hands around hers that swung ever so frantically, and forced them to a tightly clutched ball before her abdomen. "I am Rin. This, is Bob." Bob, gave a politely drawn wave of his wrist before flopping down against the hard ground on his ass, with a highly dramatic sigh of relief. "and, that one.." He paused directing his brother to place his sword away. "He is Shelby." Shelby turned to face Olivia, showing the tilted 'Z' glowing from his right eye. "I assure you, we have come to help you find leave of this place."
Friday, September 12, 2014
Five Reasons I Don't Mind Women Gaming
1. If there weren't at least some level of detail to there being a lady present. There would be a lot more belching, farting, sounds of masturbation, and over-all intolerance to the natural senses of others. Don't get me wrong, it still happens, often. But....
Well, hearing everyone pipe down in shock that some woman is kicking their ass in Call of Duty, rather than hearing someone jerk off because he thinks he's using it in a mocking tone while watching porn on his cell phone, is kind of nice.
2. I don't have any distaste for women gaming, based on the fact that I believe they share a similarity in tastes, that, we don't often give them the freedom to express.
For instance, my baby loves blood and gore. And, if it makes her happy seeing some dude get his head blown off on a game. She's venting frustrations either in watching this, and enjoying it, or, playing this, and enjoying it. So why bitch?
3. Not as surprisingly as one might think. The competition.
There are some female gamers out there, that have royally kicked my ass, embarrassed the fuck out of me, antagonized the situation with more confrontational shit-talking than an adolescent male. And I think, that's just fucking awesome. Even when they make me want to throw the controller.
4. Because honestly, even if they made purely-women oriented games like, just as a for instance.
"Princess Whatever The Fuck Her Name is And Prince Who Gives A Damn" and the whole plot was like this broad dating prince charming, and he's swooning the fuck out of her in some unrealistic fashion, but it's making her all giddy.
Who gives a fuck? Does that mean they'll stop making shit that the rest of us want to play? No. So let her have her moment, and you just find a new one. Seriously.
5. Finally, because I refuse to take it easy on you.
Regardless of your race, age, heritage, customs, religion, sexual status, and or orientation.. If you have a Playstation 4 and you want to play with me. I might lose, but I'll try my best either way, because that's just how I roll.
Well, hearing everyone pipe down in shock that some woman is kicking their ass in Call of Duty, rather than hearing someone jerk off because he thinks he's using it in a mocking tone while watching porn on his cell phone, is kind of nice.
2. I don't have any distaste for women gaming, based on the fact that I believe they share a similarity in tastes, that, we don't often give them the freedom to express.
For instance, my baby loves blood and gore. And, if it makes her happy seeing some dude get his head blown off on a game. She's venting frustrations either in watching this, and enjoying it, or, playing this, and enjoying it. So why bitch?
3. Not as surprisingly as one might think. The competition.
There are some female gamers out there, that have royally kicked my ass, embarrassed the fuck out of me, antagonized the situation with more confrontational shit-talking than an adolescent male. And I think, that's just fucking awesome. Even when they make me want to throw the controller.
4. Because honestly, even if they made purely-women oriented games like, just as a for instance.
"Princess Whatever The Fuck Her Name is And Prince Who Gives A Damn" and the whole plot was like this broad dating prince charming, and he's swooning the fuck out of her in some unrealistic fashion, but it's making her all giddy.
Who gives a fuck? Does that mean they'll stop making shit that the rest of us want to play? No. So let her have her moment, and you just find a new one. Seriously.
5. Finally, because I refuse to take it easy on you.
Regardless of your race, age, heritage, customs, religion, sexual status, and or orientation.. If you have a Playstation 4 and you want to play with me. I might lose, but I'll try my best either way, because that's just how I roll.
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