One of the most preposterous things I've had the displeasure to hear came from a foe (and a proud, upstate, beta-male simp, at that). He lamented how society places far too much pressure on men to fulfill their inherent obligations as providers and protectors.
To say the least, the statement jarred me, especially being that I'm one who adheres to the protector/provider adage. However, considering that the dolt said this during a time when it was popular to deride any speck of virility, I shouldn't have been at all shocked.
Fortunately, it now appears that this idiotic perspective is taking a backseat in the cultural scope, for I've heard any number of people (men and women, some straight, some gay and so forth) take strong stands against it. (Even Anthony Mackie, during the release of Captain America IV, chimed in on the concern, regarding the way he's raising his sons, much to the opposition's disdain.)
For example, I was at the gym yesterday when I overheard a couple women discussing how sick and tired they are of males spouting woe-is-me declarations, never accomplishing anything beyond the mastery of excessive and unwarranted self-pity.
These ladies also expressed that they thought it was horrendous for boys to be made to feel guilty about their virility, being taught that it's wrong to want to jump about, be competitive and in general, engage life's rough-and-tumble pastimes.
I, of course, agree with these women and appreciate their stance.
Let's be realistic. Most males don't want neo-Disney-fied, snowflake fodder, like that "weird, weird" Snow White or that way-too-weepy, Maleficent set. They want James Bond and John Rambo. They don't want the pointless propaganda of Blue's Clues. They want the explosive action-adventure of G.I. Joe. They don't want the Gary Stu-prone Harry Potter. They want the courageous, protect-the-innocent Harry Callahan. They don't want narrow-minded Kathleen Kennedy. They want the open-minded Gayle Anne Hurd. And above all, they don't want to hear the hateful rhetoric left by Sinead O'Connor, as now promoted by her surviving, psychotic ilk. They want the penetrating clarity and righteous reason of Jordan Peterson and those who comprise his logical base.
If my position should offend (and I do realize that some will get their panties in a bigtime bunch because of it), sue me. I, as a genuine male, speak the truth, and if you don't like it, well, go stand in a corner and sniffle away. I take great delight knowing that the cultural tide is heading back to where it belongs, and I suspect there's nothing that the crybabies (or any be-damned, legacy outlet that champions them) can do to vanquish it.
No comments:
Post a Comment