Occasionally I write about women, usually in the context of men, and usually telling them to quit their bitching or to quit being feminists. If it is not evident, or if you are a new reader, I am in fact a woman. I do woman things for the most part. My ovaries glow if I’m around a baby. I have pretty much planned my wedding. I will fawn over romantic characters like Mr. Darcy.
I could talk about women in today’s society, but the truth is that it doesn’t excite me. Yay for women and their rights. Woopdeedoo. The truth is that I am much more interested in what is happening to our men these days. And by interested, I mean pissed off.
Women have fought for decades to gain the same rights as men. Good job, ladies. You made yourselves very masculine in some aspects. Think the power suit. You gave yourself big shoulders and angled bodies–much like men in business suits.
In trying to gain so much power, you emasculated men. (I slip into second person here, because I am talking to a generation before my time that I do not feel a part of.) So as men become more feminized, it’s kind of like, “Hm…we’re all going to a genderless neutral state.”
I don’t like it.
We all know that I’m a big fan of gender roles and I mourn their demise. And as much as many of my readers may not believe it, I don’t have any problem with successful, independent women. I just wish stay-at-home-moms and more traditional roles for women weren’t looked down upon.
I am more interested, however, in reviving the traditional man. We’re losing it. We’re losing that Brawny man that our fathers were, and I, like The Art of Manliness, just want to keep that glorious state of man alive.
And that is why I write about men.