My Antifeminist Journey

Men's Rights Activists are made not born. We arise out of the hostile conditions of state-enforced feminism. Although frequently depicted as hating women, in truth we simply react to misandry. It is as simple as hate breeds hate. I trace my first memory of serious aversion to feminism back to the Clarence Thomas confirmation hearings of 1991. I was viscerally appalled that those accusations by Anita Hill were taken seriously as possible misconduct because I instinctively knew, even as a young teenager, that what they called "sexual harassment" is just normal male sexuality and a society which criminalizes it is a sick, revolting society. I still don't understand how American men -- or men anywhere -- can be such milquetoasts as to tolerate sexual harassment policies, let alone internalize them as valid and desirable rules to govern their behavior every working second and empower and enrich women at their pathetic emasculating expense. To me it is absolutely astonishing that any man can even take the concept of sexual harassment seriously and, when accused, defend himself within the framework of the law and claim he didn't do it rather than attack the systemic injustice of instituting sexual harassment policy in the first place, which is the notion that women are discriminated against if they have to encounter sexual references or quid pro quo advances in the workplace, based on the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and also brought into the academy by Title IX of the Education Amendments of 1972. A man would have to be an utter moron to go along with this charade and accommodate women on these terms. It is made even more preposterous by the concept of sexual harassment policy now being detached from its historical origins as an innovative feminist tool to empower women over men and presented as the natural order of things. Gullible fools are even made to believe it's now a gender-neutral concept and that men can also be victims, so as to construct a red herring against the reality that sexual harassment policy is all about oppressing men.

However, my most formative moment as a fledgling MRA occurred during freshman orientation at Austin Peay State University in 1998. This was my first close encounter with a dystopian vision of the feminist police state turned into brutal reality. The first week for incoming students at any American college is notorious for the hatred heaped on men, which once again this year escalated to new levels, studiously obliterating any vestige of due process for males to defend themselves against ridiculous accusations. But even in 1998, I was met with a concerted week-long display of hateful feminist propaganda, all carefully choreographed to impress upon male students the threat of accusations of rape and sexual harassment at all times. Through lectures, dramatizations, leaflets, posters, T-shirts and so on, we were barraged with incessant propaganda that male sexuality equals rape and/or sexual harassment, and how eagerly accusations are awaited from any female offended by as much as an unwelcome desirous glance from a male, which professional feminists will then zealously prosecute to the full extent possible. There are even mandatory signs permanently displayed in every building urging women to report sexual harassment. My most germane memory is a lecture by some woman who was a professor of sociology. I am not even sure if she identified as a feminist. Her enthusiasm for feminist sex law was tempered by having a college-aged son herself. The resulting cognitive dissonance was funny to behold, as she understood how all this extravagant legal protection for women could just as easily screw her son. She pointed out that the law puts tremendous pressure on males, who bear the full responsibility for any sexual encounter. I vividly remember her explaining to us that in Tennessee, intoxicated women are not legally able to consent to sex. She said the woman does not even have to be visibly drunk, and the man does not even have to be aware that she has been drinking. One girl raised her hand and asked if that meant if she had sex after drinking and then felt bad about it the next day for whatever reason, she could simply decide that it was rape. "Yes," she was told, and I could see the smug look of power in her face. I was livid. That was the moment I completely realized I belong to the shit gender. I forthwith fathomed the full abysmal depth of the institutionalized worthlessness of men, how it extends to women wielding the brutal violence of the institutions to lock men up for many years based on the most minuscule of contrived insults, even when they are entirely and admittedly based on regret for consensual acts. I realized that by that definition, I would be a rapist myself and my staying out of jail would depend on women not bothering to report me. After all, alcohol is involved more often than not in the college hookup culture. And I realized that our society is perfectly OK with treating men this way; that this kind of perverse female empowerment is wholly intended by legislators and happily enforced by the police. In short, as considerations of fairness are irrelevant to males because we are so worthless, and the slightest sexual insult against a female is considered weightier than a man's life, sheer violence is our only recourse one way or the other.

We were then told that in order to avoid rape accusations, men should ask women at every step if they wanted it and never do anything unless we get a clear affirmative answer. Which, of course, qualifies as sexual harassment. If we ask for sex, we are harassers, and if we get it, we are rapists. Women have every aspect of male attention covered form the first glance to possible regrets many years after sex. At any stage can they turn around and bring the full force of state violence to bear against the man.

The intended outcome of freshman orientation is to produce a docile mangina. But it didn't work on me. All that hateful propaganda instead sparked hatred in return and sowed the seeds of activism. Rather than cowering in fear of the police, I assumed a warrior mentality and started hating law enforcement. I really, really wanted to hurt those responsible for enacting and enforcing feminist sex law. I did not let feminism influence my personal sex life, but I paid close attention to feminist legal reforms. I watched disgustedly from a distance as radical feminists remolded Norwegian rape law to their hearts' content in 2000, abolishing mens rea and lowering the threshold of force/threat from serious violence to any threatening behavior whatsoever, no matter how slight and including otherwise perfectly legal stuff like ending a relationship if you don't get sex; and sex with females deemed unable to resist due to intoxication, sleep or unconsciousness was also from then on redefined as rape. This reform has predictably opened the floodgates of frivolous accusations against men. The number of women alleging rape to the police has doubled in a decade, yet the official propaganda that not enough women are reporting rape continues unabated. As rape law is limitless but convictions are lagging, today's feminist efforts are centered on eroding due process and ultimately removing the jury, as well as strengthening the police and escalating sentencing. So far the feminist state has been met with negligible resistance -- with one major exception -- and they relentlessly keep pushing for more reforms against men. It probably has to get much worse before it gets better. Sometimes it seems like there is literally no limit to the draconian laws against male sexuality that men will put up with. I can only conclude that most men are remarkably nonviolent, but I am not like most men.

Nevertheless, my own activism all these years has remained fairly innocuous so far, but that's not for lack of affect. Angered by billboards funded by the Clarksville Police Department saying "NO MEANS NO," I painted "VIS GRATA PUELLIS" atop my mortarboard at graduation in 2002. I thought I might get arrested, but nothing happened. I also want to award an honorable mention to Angry Harry, the first MRA I encountered, and whom I've been reading for at least ten years. While nothing can beat college in producing belligerent men, I also owe a great part of my antifeminist awareness to old codger AH, who really opened my eyes to the scope of feminist debasement of our society and convinced me that there will be a time of reckoning for the leftists.

So this is where I am coming from. Freshman orientation was 13 years ago and since then, the feminist police state has grown more monstrous beyond my worst nightmares. Society is already sentencing men to life in prison without the possibility of parole for looking at forbidden pictures of young females. A woman in Nevada got life in prison for letting a 13-year-old boy touch her breast. A man in Sweden was convicted of "child pornography" for possessing cartoons of girls drawn with too small breasts. Norwegian men are criminalized for purchasing sex in the entire world. These are just some examples of the outlandish sex-hostility of state feminism. And it just keeps getting worse and worse. The only way to turn the tide is for men to fight back.