Monday, 25 November 2013

MGTOW Ramblings (Part One) With No Clear Destination (Yet)

Why the heck is a man my age spending time in the Manosphere? Aside from, it's better than watching television? Well, it's an attempt to make sense of my life. Not the outward life I've lived: there's so little of that it's barely worth thinking about. I mean the chaos and confusion in my head and heart. I've done alcoholic recovery through AA and the 12 Steps, and DA has helped me with my attitudes to money, salaries and quality of life. I've done the SAA questionnaire and that isn't me - and I've heard a few people who do fit it. But the whole girls / sex thing I still don't understand, and the mainstream therapy and psychology industries are so thoroughly corrupted either by the feminist viewpoint (academic psychology) or by the trade imperative to pander to their clients (therapeutic psychology) that there's no help to be found there. The Manosphere is a place where men rant and rave and bang on about the same old stuff and in doing so share experience - enough of it for someone who keeps showing up to have something to work on.

I like the players and PUAs. Damn I wish we'd had Roosh, Krauser and Heartiste when I was a teenager. I think the MGTOWs have the right idea, but I wouldn't withdraw totally from the economy or from the company of women. The Married Men give me another reason to stay single: whatever the heck the benefits of marriage may be, and those are never, ever explained, I'm in severe doubt that they are worth the cost in effort, attention and the Eternal Vigilance of the Alpha Husband. Some of the commentators tell horror stories of being married to women with DSM-V-grade dysfunctions, or who change utterly and for the worse at the menopause, and others just wound up married to shrews. All these are cautionary tales. As ever, of course, happy people are silent: they have no need to share, and a good thing too, because happiness, like success, is a lousy teacher. The evo-psycho stuff is a bunch of post-hoc Just-So stories which have the effect, even if their tellers don't have the intention, of letting women off the moral hook ("it's okay gals, you can be hypergamous bitches, it's in your genes"). I'm with Marx on the primacy of economics and with every legal system in the world on the unavoidability of moral agency in legal adults.

Women who make rude remarks about men and try to shame our desires don't have complicated political, economic or social reasons. It's a nasty act by aggressive and spiteful people who do it for the same reasons anyone does anything aggressive and spiteful: to dominate, control, hurt or humiliate, and above all, to enjoy the feeling of doing so. And that's exactly all it is. Shit tests and infidelity have no evolutionary justification. (Most) chicks dig jerks for the same reason (most) guys dig bad girls: it's a fling with a built-in acceptable escape clause.

One thing I have picked up is that some, perhaps many, men experience the whole sex-women-family-children thing very differently from the way I don't. I can't even guess how a regular guy sees and thinks about the world, but it is very, very different from the way I do. (I would never appoint a married man to any significant management position, because he's demonstrated he does not have the nous to recognise, and the common sense to avoid, one-sided contracts with high exit costs.) Which is why, I guess, I'm a MGTOW (not that you would see much of a Way in my biography).

Other than don't get married, there's no official MGTOW line on women. Danny from 504 is one and lord knows he seems to get laid enough. I find myself wondering what, exactly, my motivation for approaching girls is or indeed ever was. Mark Manson, in Models, says I need to be clear about that or I will come across conflicted and unconvincing. First time around, I kinda nodded, because I thought my motivation was, you know, girls. Now I get what he means.

When I was younger, my motivation was hormones and not wanting to feel lonely. I don't mean get-a-dog lonely, I mean Robert-de-Niro-in-Taxi-Driver lonely.


I thought girls were a way of curing that - except that I never prostrated myself into an LTR or a marriage, so maybe I didn't believe that. Actually, I don't think I had a clue why I did girls. It was something that people did, like going to university (except I knew why I wanted to do that), or getting jobs (that's paying the bills and taxes, right?), and going on holiday (I have no idea - maybe to get away from the shitty weather?), or going out with the lads Saturday night (because that's what you do when you're living the life, right?), or getting your own place (now that makes sense). I thought that if I was getting laid, I must be living a life, and girls were how I got laid and so proved (to myself) that I was living a life. I was not looking for a wife (a what?!?), let alone a mother of my children (I NEVER wanted children). I did girls because from time to time they made themselves available, and they were usually some kind of messed up, because the focussed marrying materialistic kind spotted me for a directionless non-marrying wastrel from way across the room. Which was a drag because I really wanted to fuck some of them. I get they were advancing their life-objectives in avoiding me and choosing guys who worked for oil companies, but I resented the heck out of it for a long time.

I have never thought "Oh, this is what the fuss is about" about sex. I've thought that about food. And movies. And books. And sunsets and dawns. And paintings. (I'd rather have sex than a cup of tea, but then it wasn't until I had fresh BOPF in a small factory in Sri Lanka that I understood what the fuss about tea was.) When I remember sexual episodes, it is as much if not more for the entire experience as for the actual humping. I'm pretty sure I got a one-night stand on Boxing Day one year and there was snow on the ground the next day. I can remember the view from her attic bedroom, but not the actual sex. What I miss is the whole experience, not simply the fucking. And part of that "whole experience" is the sense that I'm living some kind of life, that I'm out of my rut.

Which makes it sound as if, for me, girls and sex are a kind of participation art. Well, there are apparently two hundred and thirty reasons for having sex and I don't see that making art shouldn't be reason number 231. I'm not looking to make a life with whoever it is: I'm looking to make some pleasant moments. (Pauses for sneers about Peter Pan syndrome, heckling from wanna-be PUAs, shaming disguised as "psychology", and suggestions I try therapy. Now do you see why I don't bother talking to anyone about this stuff?)

So why am I not out there? I mean, aside from all the obvious reasons? And the sheer optionality of it all? And the low odds of finding someone who is willing to go with my flow? And this kinda brings me back to all that stuff about low-odds campaigns.

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