Preview post - There is no war on masculinity

Figure I have all this stuff that isn't available yet, why not give it to you guys? Unfinished state, needs proofing, but I figure there's no reason not to share it with you guys, my awesome supporters.  Once I get the time to clean it up, keep an eye out for rianstone.com/blog for when it gets released publicly

It's not a lot, but I love giving back to you guys for your support

1. Men need femenism the same way women need dick, it fills the hole in their lives that was meant to be filled.

There was a war on masculinity. I don’t know when it was fought, I don’t know who lead the armies, and I don’t know the tactics that were used. I do know that it’s over, and from everything around us, we can know that men lost to a feminized kingdom, lured by promises of gold and pink. This must be what it’s like to live in Thailand and to have the king call you trash every fifteen minutes. Not that it matters, my wife buys razors where they tell her she’s not pretty enough without it. I buy razors that tell me I’m the reason women are raped. She believes that she needs to be pretty to be relevant, I just started growing a beard. I notice I respond to incentives in the laziest way possible, I imagine most men do. I am glad I have the self-awareness to admit it, for some reason it feels different when you do the same things ironically. I blame Nirvana.

Now, since our modern day artists are too busy drawing vaginas and making performance art to create patriarch archetypes for me to get the warm tingles of masculinity, no one will pat me on the head and call me a good boy. We crushed the Nazis and the red threat to get our fix. We tried to stomp the third world, but it just didn’t feel the same. Calling in a drone strike doesn’t have the same visceral emotions that a bayonet charge does. I would just work as hard as I can to make a better life for everyone, but my parents already did that, then shipped the jobs over to China so I’d never know the pain that comes with a self-actualized life.

I can’t blame them either. The only people who are telling me are a man are feminists. They shit on me and call me some form of toxic masculinity. At least someone in my life calls me masculine, it’s no world war, but I’ll take it!

Sidenote, anyone who thinks women can’t rule the world of business can think about this: someone out there convinced women that they would be happier when they are ugly, angry, lonely, and overworked; selling refrigerators to Eskimos. I should probably say Inuit, I would hate to be a concise, well understood racist. 

Though I keep thinking that something is missing. I mean, the greatest generation made it so that my parents wouldn’t have to starve like they did. In return, they worked hard enough that I would be terrified of marriage because of the examples shoved in my face of how quickly a bored housewife can bet her family’s life on black and walk away with a stack of chips, whether black stayed around for more than one spin of the wheel or not.

I’m starting to think people may be bad at adulating if they don’t have the threat of starvation and invading armies on their doorstep. I moved to a big city, started listening to people talk. It was weird to see the life of my grandparents brought up as something they wish they had. I was there, no one seemed very happy. The grandparents had arthritis from tilling the soil for food. My parents looked absolutely lost once they had a generation to do with as they pleased.

I wonder if my grandparents ever looked at the Victorian era and thought it would be great to live like that. I imagine a 3 piece suit was so much fun to take on an ocean swim. Probably not, I imagine they were happy just being able to get their frustrations worked out while hiking across the French countryside.

Heh, I think about my grandfathers face, and me asking him about masculinity. He would be confused as fuck, he was too busy raising 20 kids to think about how alpha he was. My dad was too busy gambling. Turns out men don’t get to walk away from the roulette table with winnings if they lose like women do. I’m pretty sure the only reason I get to think about it today is … actually I don’t really either. 

I did all the things that masculine men do. I tilled soil on a farm, I was a cowboy on a ranch, I was a sailor in the military. I fucked young girls and drank whiskey while wearing leather and smoking pipes. Didn’t feel masculine at the time, in fact it kind of sucked. Men never said they wanted to be me, and women didn’t want me. Most of the time they just needed dick and I happened to be there, with my superpower; I had the ability to string a sentence together without sounding like a retard and wasn’t afraid to touch a vagina, I derive this power from the yellow sun of Earth.

Not everyone gets to do any of this, I get that. I imagine for them, they haven’t done all the masculine things that cigarette ads told us we should do, and so no one really told them about the truth. The truth is nothing makes you feel more masculine, you just had to do things and get better at them. So I get the feeling, when a woman says you’re part of toxic masculinity, it must make a man feel good

“Well, at least it’s masculine!”

Men need feminism like a woman needs dick. It fills that hole inside of us that needs to be filled. I don’t know why many guys picked such horrid examples of women to be their masculine counsel of elders, I guess beggers can’t be choosers. Hot chicks were too busy filling up their emptiness to worry about filling up ours. I was too busy in the metrosexual land, finding the perfect pomade to finish my perfectly quaffed look.

I can always sit down and play some Minecraft, except they are making ugly women younger now, and they haven’t seen an abusive man since their father, before their mother moved to a different state and got a payout. How sad is that when they turn the guy who called someone a ‘faggot’ online into their new toxic boogeyman. Of course, those guys never had anyone tell them anything, they just felt something inside of them perk up. Reminds me of when arcades were still a thing, that moment you heard the clink of a quarter and the words ‘a new challenger approaches!’ pop across your screen.

It brings something up that these guys may not have seen before. A challenge, and enemy! Our caveman DNA resonates well with that. A lifetime of Doritos and redpill doesn’t make for good combat, neither does a fat chick with blue hair. Without the power of earths Yellow sun they don’t really have the power of calling a cunt a cunt, so they have to find a manageable target. Other men are as good as any. I guess it’s entertaining, I do find it weird that the main weapon is to show people what a man does for a living and where he lives. How shitty is someone’s life when they think that this is the way to shame a man into submission?

Say what you will about the NPC, at least he lives in something larger than a studio apartment.