I don’t even…
I don’t even…
I just saw a thread about a someone who went on a “weight gain journey.”
This was not a person suffering from anorexia or someone trying to build muscle mass. This was a person trying, deliberately, to become obese for the attention of it.
This is basically like someone coming up to me and saying “I’m going to smoke four packs of cigarettes a day until I reach my goal of dying from it.” Gonna “nope” as hard as I can from that section of the internet today. Something tells me there’s dragons dwelling.
HA! It’s good someone finally pointed it out.
They are our children of music.
Our devoted daughters and sons.
Little brothers and sisters.
White and trashy and incredibly dumb.
I hope to be this good in like five years.
Nice guys finish last for a good reason.
I recently had the displeasure of reading some fucking awful article — one with 256,000 Facebook “likes” — called, An Open Letter To The Girl Who Let The Nice Guy Go. Now, ripping this shit storm of an article apart is an easy feat considering the author is an amateur misogynist and I’m a Level Ten Psycho Bitch but, hell, on Fridays I like to smoke some cigarettes and cause trouble on the internet.
What I despair over most is that the “Open Letter” article was written by a woman. I read it over six times believing some dude with a bad haircut wrote it, only to find that this misogynistic prototype has gnawed so deep into popular culture that women believe in it too.
Imma rectify this mess.
I’ll break this down into nice, polite chunks of madness. Let’s begin with a definition of Nice Guys, and who likes to identify as a Nice Guy.
Definition of The Nice Guy
Nice Guys are red-flagged in many women’s wisdom bibles as heavy-breathing sociopaths who self-identify as “nice” because they think “nice” will get them pussy. Nice Guys aren’t actually nice (see Elliot Rodger, for a full summary). Rather, they are delusional assholes short of empathy, sensitivity and understanding. The Nice Guy lives in a universe where there are fuckable/loveable women, themselves, and “all the other men” (men whom they usually characterise as shallow, obnoxious assholes). They render the dating scene as a place where these shallow, obnoxious assholes get to have all the fun, without realising that they themselves are, in fact, shallow, obnoxious assholes, uninterested in anything other than themselves and their “romantic” feats.
Examples of Nice Guys
Elliot Rodger, the twenty-something Santa Barbara killer, defines his issue succinctly:
"The ultimate evil behind sexuality is the human female. They are the main instigators of sex. They control which men get it and which men don’t … the men who do get to experience the pleasures of sex and the privileges of breeding are the men who [sic] woman are sexually attracted to… the stupid, degenerate, obnoxious men.”
The author of the “Open Letter” article draws a similar point:
“If a one-night stand is what you’re looking for, leave the good guys alone and toy within the levels you lay down … Every girl says she likes the assh*le [sic] because he’s the challenge — the one she must break, train and force to be more than just a douchebag.”
Unfortunately, it appears that:
(i) If a woman is interested in sex, then she is not worthy of accessing the Nice Guys;
(ii) Women who engage in sex are slithering along the underbelly of the dating scene, whilst from the eyes of holy heaven, the Nice Guys look down below and shake their heads in disapproval;
(iii) The moral soliders of misogyny still decide whom we are “allowed” to lie with. Oh.. I thought that’s what my autonomy was for? Ha, ha. My bad.
The Nice Guy likes to cunt punt men who are more successful in their sexual pursuits by believing that they are “too nice” for women. In reality, they aren’t “nice” at all; their delusions of grandeur, candy-sweet bullshit is the stuff made of headaches (and mass murder).
Understanding Nice Guys
Nice Guys believe that their nice-ness offers them a privilege to women’s bodies and time. Life ain’t that easy, bro. Women are not two dimensional creatures who long for a fella to swoop in and pull out her chair and hold her coat. Come on, friend. Reevaluate your life, friend. Courting pussy ain’t that easy, friend.
Women are interesting, curious and wonderful creatures, all seeking different things. “Nice-ness” will get you a polite smile at my local coffee shop, but it won’t get you into my pussy, my home, or my parents’ living room. After eons of experiencing moral, sexual, and domestic obligations to men and society, I think the twenty-first century is a good time for women to stop playing by the fucking rules.
However, the author of “Open Letter” seems to disagree:
"He was the guy you were supposed to end up with, who makes everything change. I just wish you’d see it before another girl does because at the end of the day, everyone, including the nice guy you don’t deserve, is rooting only for you."
Save your rooting and tooting, asshole. I don’t need it. I left your ass for a reason.
Betty Morales, a commenter on the “Open Letter” article explains the scenario:
"Real Nice Guy, I didn’t walk away because I’m looking for an a-hole guy to fix because ~love conquers all~, I left because your creepy passive-aggressive actions pretty much scream "see how nice I am now you owe me something so you gotta sleep with me and be my girlfriend because I’m NICE." Being manipulated into feeling obligated to be your girlfriend just because you’re nice to me is awful, and truly nice, decent people don’t have the need to label themselves as nice, they just are."
Thanks, Betty. We’ll pass on the memo.
On a more serious note, the author of “Open Letter” contributed this dazzling jewel:
"So you tried to push the nice guy away. When he wouldn’t go away, you pushed harder. Still, he didn’t give up and every time you pushed harder, he pulled you in even more."
Now, I don’t know about you, but in the typical “stalking” scenario, I’d tinkle the police and ask for a restraining order. In my personal (professional) opinion, stalking isn’t very nice.
I discussed the Nice Guy issue with my very nice friend Eriq. He quickly responded to my remarks:
"I used to identify as a Nice Guy. Then I realised, if I’m only interested in women for sex, then I’m not really a nice person, am I?"
He’s damn fucking right.
Presuming that women exist in a state of perpetual distress, unhappiness, and loneliness waiting to be cured merely by a man’s “niceness” is a devastating skid mark on western culture. It removes the complexity of relationships, emotions, and connection, mashing these wild and interesting hyperbolises into a flat baseline: “you need a nice guy.” Don’t tell me what I need, buddy. I’ll tell ya where to go: back to the start mark, asshole.
One must love a summer misting. =D
Unf. I’ll be satisfied when I have a body like that. And I think I can pull it off. In like three years.
David Gaider, head writer for the Dragon Age franchise
Let me just say that this speaks volumes to me about how and what people expect from their entertainment. I hear very often (sorry dear) that a character was just “not likable” or that a game or film had no likable characters. Well, maybe that’s the point. Maybe you’re not supposed to like them. But are they engaging you? Are you interested in the story? In fact, don’t most people you encounter throughout your entire life seem unlikable? To make every character likable would be to create a children’s fairy tale where the “good guys” fight the “bad guys” and evil is ultimately punished. If you want a realistic, engaging, gritty story, expect the heroes to have faults and the villains to have sensible qualities. You can also expect to simply not like the people you’re watching on screen, but the mark of good writing is if, in spite of your dislike for the character, they’re still interesting to watch.
Always a lawful neutral.
I would say this applies to photo albums as well, and not just for concerts.
Admit it, this was every last one of us the first time we watched it.
Somehow, to the general population, caring about yourself and how you look makes you a douche.
May 7, 1965 – May 23, 1999