After my last post, I found I had run out of things to add to the MGTOW discussion. I knew we had hardly covered every aspect of the position, but I felt I needed a new approach. I didn’t have one, but felt like one was trying to solidify in my mind. It took a while, longer than I would have expected.
Interestingly, it took a couple of today’s young female role models to rouse the muse from slumber. One might be hard-pressed to find a connection between Amy Schumer and Bristol Palin with a quick glance, but I believe that I have found one just because I was looking for one.
Amy Schumer has become popular enough with her cable show, “Inside Amy Schumer“, to have been selected by the master manipulators of Hollywood to star in a romantic comedy. I personally don’t find her funny, but I do note that she puts a fair amount of thought into her skits portraying modern dating life. The situations she generally presents don’t especially put men in a good light, for she uses male foibles to make her points. She’s also not easy on the women her show panders toward, as brought out in a CBS interview with her and her younger sister:
“It seems like you’re harder on no one more so than white girls,” said Rocca.[the interviewer]
“Yeah, well, they’re the worst,” [Amy] laughed. “Definitely more than anyone, it’s white women in their 20s and 30s, just [believing] the universe is thinking about you,” said Amy. “A lot of those girls will come up to me, and they’re like, ‘Oh my God, like, I’m you!'” Amy laughed. “Like, ‘I’m literally you.’
‘No, you’re who I’m doing a parody of.'”
And now getting rich while doing so.
The real triggering comment of Ms. Schumer for me came when she was accepting the award for Trailblazer of the Year at the London Glamour Women of the Year Awards, which you can watch here if you can stand to. What she said was, “I’m like 160 pounds right now, and I can catch a dick whenever I want, and that’s the truth”.
The parody has returned to the source.
Granted, she’s not so repulsive that she couldn’t find an interested male to bed. But he’d have to either not know about her show persona, or he’d have to not care. One can see her apply her feminine wiles to NBC’s Matt Lauer during an interview for her upcoming movie. You don’t need to have the sound up to follow what I mean. Just watch her facial expressions: batting her eyes, her shy smile, and you can tell she knows she has Lauer right where she wants him. It would be even easier for her when the male in question isn’t a media professional who goes through this with every starlet he interviews, so I believe her claim to be able to catch a dick. She’s very much more sedate when the interviewer is female, as if those flirty actions on her part would just go to waste if attempted. They’d be too obvious to another female.
Which brings me to Bristol Palin. This single mother decided that recent Medal of Honor winner Dakota Meyer was the man of her dreams, and quickly finagled an engagement out of him. This path to domestic wedded bliss ended abruptly when the news came out that Meyer has an ex-wife, while it’s OK for her to have an ex in the form of the baby daddy of her first child, Levi Johnson.
Meyer himself wants out of the media spotlight, chiding the media for looking so closely at him when larger and more important stories go relatively uncovered. I tend to agree with him. But if he’d been paying attention during the past few years, he’d know that media attention is what the Palin clan lives for. Maybe he’d not now be in this predicament if he had? At the very least, he should have learned something from his divorce from his wife!
Which brings me to the point of my post. Few young men -and I include myself when I was that age- would be in predicaments now if we knew more about how women manipulate us. The flirting, the shy glances and smiles, the batting eye lids, the clothes, they are all devices to stop our upper heads from maintaining control and to shift that control to our lower heads. Once that happens, the distracted seduction begins to move us toward that commitment most women want, a commitment that entails essentially a total surrender to her control. We are to turn over our names, our belongings, our incomes, and our sex organs, with no guarantee that it is a fair trade.
Every device is fair game to achieve this, especially when a young woman already has whelped and has no studly male role model for her offspring. It is thus my opinion that Bristol honestly DID plan her pregnancy, but it was to ensure that her grip on Dakota Meyer didn’t slip. In a certain sense, it hasn’t, but I doubt that child support and interstate court actions were what she intended.
Back when I was Meyer’s age, one of the media sirens was Angie Dickenson. She once said that she didn’t dress for men, but for women. This seed grew into many observations confirming that comment. I’d see women clearly dressing to attract attention from men, but rejecting any advances men made in response. It was necessary for men to react to her attire, even in a less-than-desired manner, for these were points scored to prove that the women attracting them was hotter than another. That makes her the better woman.
Just about everything a woman says and does when she first meets a man is a lie. Makeup hides her real face. She might have a Wonderbra to hide a small bust, or gets implants to make them bigger. She might wear contacts to change her eye color, or dyes her hair, or wears a wig, or squeezes into Spanx, and so on, all to hide the real her from him. You can get an idea how effective this is by looking at this series of photos of porn stars with and without their makeup and maybe wearing fancier clothing. Only a few shots push the boundary of what you could show your mother, and those are all without nudity. There are lots more on the Web if these don’t convince you.
The real woman emerges only when she feels like she has control. She isn’t about to have to share “her” man with any other woman, especially not his mother, or an ex. This is why most men don’t discover who they really married until the honeymoon ends. She wants that to be her “Happily Ever After”, at least until you both return to your regularly scheduled lives – only she’s now in charge.
This is only possible because we men fell in love with the image a woman presented to us. We weren’t raised to see past those tricks, and most mothers are loathe to inform their sons of the effects of these techniques, as she wants grandchildren for the satisfaction of her own ambitions. (Why at this point am I reminded of one of the late BB King’s greatest hits?)
I observe a similar strategy from my wife about my sons, neither of whom is in a hurry to breed and add to the grandchild tally. I don’t hear this about my youngest daughter, who is passing her prime marital and reproductive age without ever having had a boyfriend.
But I digress. One of my stated goals is to attempt to reach younger men before they succumb to that sexy succubus seeking his economic blood for her life support. I offer the following, despite its “advanced” age in a world thundering with hip-hop and rap.
I admit to being a hard-core Steely Dan fan. On his solo album Kamakiriad, Donald Fagen wrote one of the ultimate jazz-funk songs of all time (IMHO!), one that actually makes this two-left-footed wallflower want to dance.
The song itself is probably a bit retro for most of the young men who need to hear and heed some of the lyrics (presented here under Fair Use provisions, so they are necessarily abridged), so maybe I can entice them to be read?
They’re on a party run
Here come Tomorrow’s Girls
Immediately, you know these women are only out for fun.
You see them on the grass at lunch hour
Soaking up the vertical rays
In their summer dresses
A little smile can really make your day
How many men of all ages can identify with that observation?
Their kisses feel like real kisses
And when they cry they cry real tears
But what’s left in your arms
When the static clears
The “static” is the run-up to the commitment! You don’t know who your partner really is until it’s too late, as the next verse indicates:
Our home is just like any other
We’re grillin’ burgers on the back lawn
Some time goes by
We fall asleep with the TV on
I dream about a laughing angel
Then the laugh becomes a furious whine
Look out fellas
It’s shredding time
In some ways, I see this last verse (slightly modified to include a great line not part of the original verse) the same way Kevin McCarthy attempts to warn the movie viewers at the end of the original Invasion of the Body Snatchers:
They’re mixing with the population
A virus wearing pumps and pearls
Lord help the lonely guys
Hooked by those hungry eyes
The heat is so intense
Earth men have no defense
Against tomorrow’s girls
Donald Fagen riffs out the coda of the song with lines like “You’re not my Sheila… You’re not my Susie… You’re not my Betty…” and so on, as if representing all the men who discovered too late that they fell in love with an image which hid the virago now out to devour them, and maybe shocked into numbness by the realization.
So pay attention, young men. Heed the warnings. The life you save will be your own. Right now, you have a life. Get married, and trade life for wife. Think about what that means, and what it costs. Then decide if it’s worth it to you. Before it’s too late, and it’s shredding time.