MenAreGood
On Frank Zappa and moral hysteria; a rant
Moiret Allegiere
August 31, 2022

On Frank Zappa and moral hysteria; a rant:

Back in the 1970’s, the phenomenal musician (and professional grumpy bastard), Frank Zappa, was asked a fairly simple question.

Not only was it a simple question; it was one of such monumental stupidity and entitlement that it could only ever have come from the quivering lips of a ferocious feminist scorned: why was this terrible misogynistic male so mean to women in his lyrics?

Now, anyone who has spent any amount of time listening to Frank Zappa will have noticed a few things about his music, his lyrics and – perhaps – the man himself;

1: he was god-damned brilliant. I would dare say he was a genius, though I admit to being a drooling fanboy of his, and as such very biased in his favour. I even named my first dog after him. (She is a bitch, and a tiny chihuahua. Somehow, it seemed rather fitting.)

2: His lyrics kick in all directions. Nothing is ever sacred and absolutely no-one is safe. He himself stated that “Yes – my lyrics are stupid. So what?”

In the musical world of Frank Zappa, lyrics was a necessary evil – a thing that had to be present in music in order for the music to sell, as so very few people listen solely to instrumental music. They were, in fact, nothing but a means to an end. Thus, silly, absurd and comedic lyrics became his thing. Because why the hell not?

In reply to the question, he answered that women need to learn how to take their lumps, same as men.

And this is absolutely true.

There is the thing of it, I think: feminism may very well preach equality – women in general may very well preach equality; may claim to very much be in favour of equal treatment of the sexes, thank you very much, it is the current year, after all.

Yet what is said and what is done are two quite different things. I believe a thing people have to learn as quickly as possible is that people’s words and people’s actions are quite often not the same. Quite the contrary. They clash and they crash very often. Human beings are complex and intricate creatures, filled with internal contradictions and inconsistencies. This is just part of human nature, I suppose.

It is not always easy to practice what one preaches, though I would sorely wish to see more people do so. This, however, requires a lot of introspection and “soul-searching”. This seems to be rather difficult at the present moment, as narcissism is on the rise and everything is always someone else’s fault. As is so often the case, people are not even aware of their failure to walk the talk, to practice what they preach. Particularly so when feminism has tricked the entirety of the western world into believing that men treat other men with all manner of respect and adoration; with all manner of underhanded deals and preferential treatment and what-have- you’s which they do not grant to women.

This is, as I have come to understand it, psychological projection on part of women in general, and within feminism specifically. They would treat other women preferentially: their in-group bias is way stronger than that of men. So, to their eyes – being unable as all hell to tear their gaze away from their navel – there is no reason why men would behave differently. “We would do this, and so they must also do this”. Add some solipsism into the mix, and you have yourself a cake not fit for human consumption. In fact, it is a cake which they both want to have and to eat.

The fact that Frank Zappa poked fun at men in his lyrics – quite often, and in quite fabulous ways – was forgotten by the feminist scorned, who only noticed women being poked fun at. One assumes that she was quite alright with poking fun at men in general. One also assumes that she did not notice that men were poked fun at because that was a message she agreed with; that this was something inherent to her view of the world and as such was a statement of fact, not a matter of men being ridiculed.

If people were to open their eyes… if people were able to remove their gynocentric blindfolds and see the world proper, the first thing to be noticed would perhaps be a certain elevation – one could almost say deification – of women and of womanhood. Women being sat atop a throne made from delicate and fragile flowers; a throne that would topple and crumble to dust at the slightest breeze. It is not rare to see women – whether blatantly feminist or not – go up in arms at the slightest hint of a joke being cracked at the expense of women, claiming this to be proof definitive of a society that just hates women ever so much, dont’cha’know and so we must have all of this and all of the other to lift women up in this society in which women are hated so much that they get all this preferential treatment… as well as a movement supposedly only for them; a movement that shall hold the monopoly on all things sex and gender; a movement which one must have balls of polished nuclear warheads to dare defy, under pain of social ridicule and death.

Women are hated, so a movement solely for women gets all the say and holds all the sway on all the things.

Makes perfect sense, of course.

And I am the emperor of Norway, keeper of the seven keys and dictator for life in the tiny island nation of Hwat Teh Fcuk.

Poking fun at typical female idiosyncrasies, at female stereotypical behaviour is a big fat no-no, and all who commit this most heinous act are misogynistic poopy-heads whose mother was a hamster and whose father smelled of elderberries. And the feminist hordes will fart in their general direction. All the while saying that we should kill all men and stating with absolute certainty that men, that masculinity, that maleness and whatever else is all that is wrong with the world; that all men must take responsibility for the evil of one man, and so forth and so on. And one can not help but wonder: if merely cracking jokes at the expense of women in general is proof of a society that hates women – what does it say about a society in which it is quite alright for academes to publish deathly serious articles titled “why can’t we hate men”? What does it say about a society in which this article is not only alright to publish, but where the author of said article is being presented as a victim for facing backlash to her blatant hatred of the male sex? A society that hates women and adores men would surely not present a woman that shamelessly presents her hatred of men as a victim of men when men – quite rightfully – react to being hated for nothing but them being men.

Jokes perpetuate negative stereotypes of women, and furthers the oppression of women.

Articles justifying hatred of men – published in mainstream media – is proof that women are hated. I will keep repeating these points until people fucking listen. Repeat, repeat, repeat.

The whole world has gone insane. Completely and utterly insane, locked within a moral hysteria built upon vapid moral grandstanding and virtue-signaling by power-hungry navel-gazers whose values are just as deep and firmly anchored as a loosely knit fart.

Ah, shit, this nonsense is trendy now.

Gotta hop along; social validation is the most important thing in the world, after all.

#MenAreTrash! Am I right, sisters? Now – let me get a crack at that pussy. Shit: men may be trash. But I am the exception to the rule. I consider all other men to be trash because I believe them to think and act exactly like me. Now, let me get a crack at that crack. Maybe some good old fashioned simpering, whimpering and puppy-eyed begging will make it so that she touches my penis….Please touch my penis!

#CancelMen, for fuck sake. What does a brother have to do in order to get laid around here? I’ve been self-flagellating for hours on end, but they’ve only been spitting in my eyes. And I am an ally to the noble cause, for Goddess’ sake. Still permanently othered, of course, being but an ally… but I am an ally to the cause of pussy- power. Even wore the pink pussy-hat, for fuck sake.

Please touch my penis.

Ahem.

Carrying on:

Poking fun at typical male idiosyncrasies – at male stereotypical behaviour – is quite alright. This happens every single day, every which where one should so happen to look. And I am perfectly fine with this, without a doubt. The ability to laugh at oneself is a transformative tool. Empowering, if I may be so bold as to borrow a buzzing phrase from the feminist handbook.

People would do well to not take themselves so damned seriouslyall the time.

What is bothering, on the other hand, is the feminist hive-mind having fits of hysteria whenever a woman is poked fun at. What is bothering is – as is so often the case – the blatant double-standard of the thing; the hypocrisy, the idiocy of it all. Add to this the inability of people to see this for what it is: anything but equal treatment. Can’t see the forest for a bunch of pretty little lies and liars squinting at the sun as it pisses in their eyes. Treating the sexes equally does not mean that women should be a protected class of people, never to be made subject to the same mockery and ridicule that men are made subject to.

Just take a look at your average sit-com for examples of this. Or talkshows… day-time television in general, for that matter. Men are bumbling fools, not elevated moral guardians such as women are.

This notion that preferential treatment of women equals equal treatment of the sexes ties very nicely and neatly into a study done by one Amy Yeung (https://uwspace.uwaterloo.ca/handle/10012/6958 ), in which it is revealed that women consider it to be sexist when men treat women worse than they would treat other men, that women consider it sexist when men treat women just as they would treat other men… considering it only to be equal treatment when men treat women better than they would treat men.

I find this very interesting, as it explains the squeaks, squawks, cuckoos and cackles, moans, marbles, howls and rise of feminism in no small way. It explains perfectly well how a movement can push for preferential treatment and label this as equal treatment. Women view preferential treatment of women to be equal treatment of women. So-called “benevolent sexism” is still detrimental to women, of course. Because what isn’t? Yet they push for it. Who can fathom the feminine mind? Not my wife, that’s for damned sure. By her own admission.

It’s OK, brothers – my wife is an honorary man; a de facto member of the Patriarchy. Our greatest secretary and coffee fetcher, in fact.

Oh boy, I’m going to the special feminist circle of hell for that one.

Not that I believe feminism, or most women, really, able to see this for what it is. I don’t believe most men are willing to see this for what it is either. For women are precious, and must be protected and one can not make fun of women for exactly that reason.

Besides, it supposedly lowers ones chances of getting laid, and men have drives, desires and needs, god-dammit(!) Dick Hardy is a most potent negotiator. Too bad he is fucking brain-dead.

No matter, never mind.

She Said! He said! Chivalry is far from dead!

And if chivalry is dying; if men treat women equally… if men treat women like they would treat other men, articles start popping up from wherever and whatever mourning the death of chivalry and oh and woe-is-me, but where oh where have all the good men gone?

Of course men should pay on dates – women deserve to be taken care of and feel special. But the relationship has to be equal; step up, men, and do your part of everything… whilst paying for everything.


What, women doing their part? Nah, that is just some patriarchal entitlement – yet another unreasonable expectation of women… male entitlement to this and that and the other, as a matter of fact.

Fuck you. Suck my balopticon.

Men should not enjoy their women having an orgasm – that is peak male entitlement right there. Imagine finding enjoyment in ones partner being given enjoyment by oneself. Shock and horror!

Still: women should damned well have at least one orgasm for every ride into funky-town, thank you very much. Just don’t enjoy it while you’re at it, boy. No-one cares if your jaw is frozen solid and your hand is cramping up; get to it, buddy!

What; you want pointers?

Nah, man, you’ve got to know your way around a woman’s body by instinct and intuition alone… Imagine the entitlement in wanting a woman to tell you what she enjoys and how to do it proper… the pure nerve of expecting a woman do something in the sack – goodness gracious, what prime male entitlement this is! Also – fleshlights and sexbots are objectifying women and mass-manufacturing rapists, and so to do porn and masturbation is akin to cheating and, hey, where are you going? Oh, my, why can’t I ever find a good and decent man?

People in glass-houses can not smell their own shit. Instead of listening to what is being said when feminism – when this entitled behaviour – is criticised, they jump into the very same aforementioned hysterics, put words in your mouth and pull strawmen out of their own arse to set on fire. Screaming that women are not hysterical, but perfectly rational and capable of reasonable discussion, fuck you very much and besides, you make her feel threatened and unsafe by your mere presence, fuck-face.

Add a solitary screech about “PATRIARCHY!!?!!?!?!!!” in there, and we have ourselves a winner, ladies and germs. Men have to accept jokes made at the expense of men in general. Televised stereotypes of men? Ain’t nothing wrong with that. To which I would agree, in all honesty. Reverse the sexes, and the shit-show begins. Apparently, men are capable of humour and of laughing at themselves, whereas women are not. Is it masculinity that is fragile, then, or is it perhaps femininity?

#FemininitySoFragile.

Back in my facebook-days, I was part of a Facebook-group that focused on record-collecting and HiFi equipment. As one would expect, men being far more object-oriented than women, this group was overwhelmingly male. I would hazard a guess at it being 98 percent male.

The discussions on records, music and equipment went as one would expect. Typical male banter; friendly insults and the like.

“What the hell kind of piece of shit equipment is that to play that record on? This record deserves tubes blown by the exotic virgins of lala-land and gold-plated cables, handspun by the queen of England, for fuck sake – bunch of amateurs in here.”

You know what kind of friendly banter I am referring to. All in good fun.

And it was good fun, while it lasted.

For, you see, the feminists entered the room; probably smelling a predominantly male space populated by horrible men in dire need of being civilised by the elevated morals of womanhood; a goddess in the guise of feminism come to save these barbarian men from themselves. Come to make sure the good ol’ boys don’t have too much unsupervised fun.

Though I can not prove this, I will dare state that the sole reason for these two feminists being in this group was tone-policing and feminist propaganda, as the only damned thing they posted in there had to do with women and with feminism.

Even when posting pictures of their records or whatever, they always included some fucking feminist “factoid” alongside the picture. Seemed rather planned, if I am to be perfectly honest.

Every day with that shit; feminism me here and pay-gap me there and horrible titties on the covers or on posters on people’s wall over there, making it such an unsafe and non-inclusive group for the women in the group and no wonder there were so few women there and so-and-such and blah-di-blah and shame the male for he is a true bastard-barbarian. How fucking entitled does one have to be to demand people remove posters that are deemed offensive by fragile feminists from their own walls in their own bloody homes? Feminist-levels of entitlement. And fragility.

#FemininitySoFragile

Whenever a woman enters a predominantly male space, it is expected that the men therein shall alter their behaviour so as to not offend her. It does not matter how many men there are in the space or in the group: the word of this one woman has to be law. And, by damn and fuck-me-right-in-the-back-ear: men agree and comply and alter their behaviour to suit the woman, for some ridiculous reason. Female entitlement is enforced by men. There is no denying this. You are allowed to say no to women, you know. Even Dick Hardy is allowed to do just that. In fact, Dick hardy must be encouraged to do just that. So much of this god-damned shit is on our shoulders, gentlemen. You don’t have to put up with it, you know.

So I left this group. After about a week of seeing these two women – might have been one woman with two accounts, come to think of it – constantly posting feminist nonsense, I had just about had it. Then I reached my tipping point, the scales were waxed and the shit slid off and hit the fan, spreading it way more than anyone should accept.

One dude in the group had the nerve, you see, had the unmitigated audacity to refer to Yoko Ono as “the bitch that ruined the Beatles”.

Oh boy.

Oh my.

Oh girl.

Oh fragile femininity supreme.

What a shit-show that turned out to be; a macabre and grotesque cabaret. The feminist footsoldiers came rolling in, floating on the wind by virtue of their bingowings, frothing at the mouth, spittle flying every-which-where, demanding the post be removed, claiming that this group was nothing but a bunch of misogynists; a sorry nest of gender-fascists, in fact.

Yes.

They actually used the term “gender-fascists”.

This, then, was the moment they had been waiting for. Finally, they could spring into action on behalf of scorned women everywhere; women who have to put up with female artists being disliked like male artists are disliked. What horror was this?

Irrational emotionally laden screeching followed. A woman can not be criticised. Not even a female artist. One has to worship the ground she walks on. Any one man can not have any one individual opinion on any one woman; neither the woman nor her caterwauling – that is to say, her art – may be subject to criticism. For any critique of a woman, or her art, necessarily must mean that one hates all women by virtue of their sex. And this has to reflect on the entirety of the group, for men – as we all well know – are a homogeneous blob; a mass of testosterone and brawn and perfectly erect penises that have neither solitary opinions nor individual personalities.

And so many guys in that group simpered and drooled and fell to their knees in abject shock and horror; apologizing profoundly and profusely on behalf of the group. A few brave men dared defy the feminine deity that had entered the space; but the damage was done, the battle was won and the female tyranny reigned supreme that day. All the men had learned of their folly and been given a whipping for their insolence in talking back to their superiors.

Earlier that day, I had posted a picture of Warren Zevon’s phenomenal album “the Wind”. I referred to Warren Zevon as a complete and utter arsehole; a narcissistic bastard with no redeeming qualities except his incredible musical and lyrical talent. He was then, and remains still, one of my favourites. Quite possibly the greatest songwriter to have ever graced this green earth. Second only to Townes van Zandt. Other guys in the group agreed. Other guys in the group had posted similar things about other male
musicians.

No-one reacted with anger or hostility, or claimed that we were just hating on men for them being men. Not even the feminists in the group.

Imagine my shock.

Criticising a female artist, on the other hand, means that the entirety of the group hates women.

Women in male spaces can not help but destroy the male spaces, it seems. Helped very much by the simpering men therein. Much like Yoko Ono, in fact. Women really need to learn how to take their lumps, how to take criticism. Women need to learn that criticism of one woman does not equate to hatred of all women everywhere.
… Much like Yoko Ono, in fact.

Moiret Allegiere

Moiret Allegiere (Born 1986) hails from Norway. A self-described scribbler of lines, juggler of words and weird pseudo-hermit, he became so concerned with the state of the world that he left his long and deliberate hibernation to wreak bloody havoc on the world of fine art and literature.

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Why Is Masculine Maturity So Hard to Talk About Today?


Why Is Masculine Maturity So Hard to Talk About Today?

In the early 1990s, you could walk into a bookstore and find entire tables devoted to the male journey. Robert Bly’s Iron John was a bestseller. Sam Keen, James Hillman, Michael Meade,​ Robert Moore, Richard Rohr — all were offering soulful, intelligent takes on what it meant to be a man. It wasn’t about domination. It wasn’t about “reclaiming power.” It was about emotional honesty, growth, and purpose. In other words: maturity.

Fast forward to today, and you’ll find… almost nothing. Talk about masculinity now and the conversation quickly turns to toxicity, privilege, or fragile male egos. Where once there was myth, poetry, and psychology, we now get slogans and shame.

Why did this happen? Why is masculine maturity such a neglected subject?

Here are a few answers — and a couple of stories that may help explain why the silence around men runs so deep.


1. The Cultural Suspicion Toward Masculinity

Over the last fifty years, masculinity has been treated less as a stage of growth and more as a problem to be managed. Many institutions — academic, psychological, media-driven — have become allergic to the idea that men might have unique struggles, let alone a need for support. Masculinity is often reduced to a stereotype: aggressive, emotionally stunted, dangerous. So it’s not surprising that serious explorations of mature masculinity are viewed with skepticism — or simply ignored.

I experienced this firsthand when I joined the American Psychological Association’s Division 51, the group supposedly devoted to studying men and masculinities. Initially, I was welcomed. A few of the men there had read Swallowed by a Snake, my first book, and treated me with respect.

But over time, it became clear this wasn’t a group focused on men. It was a feminist-aligned group focused on monitoring men. That would have been fine if it had also been balanced — but it wasn’t.

One moment still sticks with me. I asked the group — these were top psychologists, many regularly quoted in national media — if they had ever heard of Robert Moore, the Jungian analyst who literally co-wrote King, Warrior, Magician, Lover, one of the most influential models of the mature masculine ever created.

Not one of them had heard of him.

These were the gatekeepers of psychological discourse around men, and they had never encountered one of the most insightful thinkers on the subject. That’s when I realized: this wasn’t a field seeking to understand men — it was a field managing a narrative about men.

They later kicked me out of the group.


2. The Disappearance of Mentorship and Male Space

The maturation of men has always required something very simple but essential: older men guiding younger men. That doesn’t mean domination or militaristic hierarchy — it means real mentorship. Time together. Shared wisdom. A hand on the shoulder.

But today, male-only spaces are either disappearing or treated with suspicion. Most institutions that once created these bonds — churches, trades, father-son traditions — are either crumbling or feminized. Men don’t know where to go, and the culture doesn’t really care that they’re drifting.


3. The Mythopoetic Movement Was Shamed Out of Existence

In the 1990s, the Mythopoetic Men’s Movement made a serious attempt to give men a space to grow, reflect, and feel. Men gathered, sometimes in the woods. They drummed. They told stories. They cried. They got honest.

They did exactly what the culture — and women — had been begging men to do for decades: engage emotionally, get their priorities straight, and connect with other men in a non-competitive, supportive environment.

So what happened?

The media mocked them. Relentlessly. Headlines rolled out: “Men Go Into Woods to Beat Drums and Take Off Their Clothes.” Late-night shows made jokes. These men weren’t harming anyone. They were healing. But that seemed to frighten people — especially the idea that men were coming together in a community that wasn’t controlled or mediated by women.

Instead of being praised, they were ridiculed and dismissed. The movement, shamed out of existence, faded.


4. No Urgency for Male Development

When girls or women face emotional hardship, society responds — with programs, policies, and public empathy. But when boys or men face disconnection, despair, or aimlessness, the response is often: “Toughen up.” Or worse: silence.

There’s a deep-rooted empathy gap when it comes to men. The assumption seems to be that men don’t need emotional depth, spiritual development, or mentorship. They just need to behave. This assumption is not only wrong — it’s dangerous. Because without maturity, all you get is drift, anger, or collapse.


5. Fear of Being Labeled

Today, if you talk too much about men’s needs, you risk being labeled “anti-feminist” or “reactionary.” Even well-meaning men tiptoe around the topic for fear of being misunderstood. As a result, the public conversation is cautious, shallow, or entirely missing.

And yet, quietly, the hunger remains.

Men are looking for guidance — not from social media influencers or political ideologues, but from grounded voices who actually understand what male development looks like from the inside.


So Where Does This Leave Us?

We’re in a strange place. The world criticizes men constantly, but offers no real path to growth. It tells men to “do better,” but doesn’t explain how — or even what “better” means, other than being more like women.

Masculine maturity isn't about dominance, nor is it about submission. It's about becoming whole — integrating strength with compassion, solitude with connection, responsibility with joy.

That journey still matters. In fact, it may matter now more than ever.

And those of us who have walked part of that road — and seen its value — need to keep the conversation alive.

Even when it's inconvenient.

Even when it's mocked.

Even when it's lonely.

Because the silence around men has never been a sign of health. It’s a sign that something sacred has been neglected.

And it’s time we returned to it.

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Heterofatalism: or How to Blame Men For Everything


This is a response to a recent New York Times article by Jean Garnett titled The Trouble With Wanting Men. The subtitle says it all: “Women are so fed up with dating men that the phenomenon even has a name — heterofatalism. So what do we do with our desire?”

Sometimes, the best response is a little humor while flipping the script. See what you think.




"Heterofatalism: Or How to Blame Men for Everything, Even Our Socks"

Ah, “heterofatalism” — the brand-new term coined for the collective exasperation of women who, after navigating the complex world of dating, come to the conclusion that men are the root of all relationship woes. You see, the issue isn't just that men are occasionally anxious, emotionally distant, or a little too obsessed with their sports teams; no, the real problem is that these poor souls — with all their confusing desires, communication issues, and tendency to occasionally ghost you after a couple of drinks — are making it impossible for women to live happily ever after.

Who needs "old-fashioned man-woman stuff," right? We should really just get rid of men altogether, except... well, hold on. It seems like the author might still enjoy the idea of men, as long as they’re perfectly self-deprecating, emotionally available, not so needy, and able to decode all of her mood swings without missing a beat. Apparently, we’re supposed to be sweet, gentle, and constantly checking in with how she feels — but also not too available, because that would make us “needy.” Are you keeping up, men? No? It’s okay, because we aren’t expected to.

What If We Flipped the Script?

Now, imagine if the shoe was on the other foot. What if a man had these same expectations of you Jean Garnett? What if you had to live up to these impossible standards every time a relationship or date rolled around?

For example, let’s say you’re trying to date someone, and he expects you to be emotionally available all the time, always knowing exactly what he’s feeling, always ready to discuss his feelings — at his convenience. Now imagine if you were the one constantly apologizing for not responding to text messages in 90 seconds flat because you were busy with life, work, or, you know, anything else. Or imagine being told you were "too anxious" to handle a simple conversation because you were stressed over your busy schedule. Does it seem fair that men are expected to always be the ones to “man up” emotionally, while women are allowed to retreat into their own anxiety and demand validation from men?

Also, here’s a fun thought experiment: What if, as a man, you had to hear all the time about how you were the problem in every dating situation? Imagine your date explaining how she loves the “good guy” archetype but constantly finds him lacking because he doesn’t meet every single emotional need immediately. The “good guy” who’s gentle, sweet, and not too self-deprecating — just enough to make you feel like a glorified emotional ATM. It’d be pretty exhausting, wouldn’t it?

Emotional Labor: A Two-Way Street

Let’s get real for a moment. The whole concept of emotional labor often gets pinned solely on men — the idea that women are somehow left to pick up the emotional slack in relationships. But if we take a closer look, we see a different picture. If the standard is that men should always be emotionally available, always interpret every word and gesture in the right way, shouldn’t women also take on the responsibility of understanding the emotional needs of their partners? Isn’t it unfair to expect men to constantly decode the mystery of “how you’re feeling” without giving them the same space to feel confused, anxious, or uncertain about what’s going on in the relationship?

What if men were to complain about the “hermeneutic labor” they had to perform just to keep a relationship afloat? Imagine if men spent every conversation analyzing why you were saying one thing and meaning something else. If men constantly had to decode your emotional signals — every pause, every silence, every hint — would we be quick to dismiss it as just part of being a man? Or would we call it what it is: exhausting?

Isn’t It Time for a Little Empathy?

Now, let’s circle back to that romantic ideal — the “good guy” who wants to be loved, but can’t seem to get it right because he's “too anxious,” “too confused,” or “too emotionally unavailable” when it matters. But what if, just maybe, the problem isn’t his inability to meet her needs, but the sheer weight of the unrealistic expectations placed upon him? Imagine being a man, constantly told that you are too much or not enough at the same time — one minute, you need to be emotionally open, the next you’re told you’re too emotional.

Let’s flip the script.
Imagine you’re the one who needs a little breathing room — just some space to think.
But your partner won’t let it go:
“Why can’t you just communicate like a grown-up? What are you, emotionally stunted?”
And when you finally admit you’re anxious or overwhelmed, you’re slapped with labels like “needy,” “hysterical,” or “too sensitive.”
Then he runs off to his buddies, and they all have a good laugh at your expense:
“Aww, poor little fraidy-cat princess. Guess she ​just can't woman up.”
Sound familiar?
Because that’s exactly what you and your friends did to him.
Doesn’t feel so good when the joke’s on you, does it?

Rewriting the Narrative

Maybe it's time to see men as humans rather than stereotypes. Men don’t exist just to fulfill emotional needs, and relationships should be about mutual respect, not endless demands. If we really want to evolve into better relationships, we need to recognize the emotional labor on both sides and give each other the space to be imperfect — without judgment.

Here’s a radical idea: instead of blaming men for the failures of the modern dating scene, let’s take a step back and realize that maybe we’re all a little messed up. And that’s okay. You don’t need us to “man up” — you just need us to be real, and we need the same from you.

And if we’re not perfect? Well, at least we’re not trying to make every relationship a philosophical debate about what does it mean to love and how can we both be completely vulnerable and emotionally invulnerable at the same time.

Pro tip: next time your man shows up with a little emotional confusion, give him a break. Men are not puzzles to be solved; we’re just humans trying to navigate a world that often doesn’t make sense to any of us.

And for the record: ​Men Are Good.

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July 14, 2025
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Why Men Struggle to Stand Together
How competition, culture, and gynocentrism keep men from standing together

It’s no secret that men and women are different—but one of the lesser-known differences, and one of the most socially consequential, is found in how each sex relates to their own group.

Women consistently show strong in-group bias. They support each other socially, emotionally, and politically. They instinctively identify with the struggles of other women. This solidarity forms the backbone of movements, activism, academic departments, and public policy. When a woman sees another woman being mistreated, her response is often immediate: “That could’ve been me.”

Men, by contrast, tend to show weaker and more conditional in-group bias. Their loyalty to other men is context-dependent, usually tied to shared purpose or external threat. A man will stand with another man on the battlefield, on the job site, or on the basketball court—but outside of those types of goal-oriented bonds, that sense of male unity often fades.

Why is that?

Part of it is biological and evolutionary. For men, life has always been a mix of coalition and competition. Throughout history, men had to work together in tribes or hunting parties—but within those groups, they also competed for rank, dominance, and access to mates. That means male bonding has always existed alongside male rivalry. The result? Male loyalty is real, but fragile.

Even today, many men see other men as rivals first, allies second. If another man struggles—loses his job, breaks down emotionally, or gets mistreated in a custody battle—he may not get support. He may get silence. Or worse, blame. Because in the male psyche, weakness often reads as threat. It disrupts the unspoken expectation that men must be strong, self-reliant, and in control. In male hierarchies, weakness can be seen as a liability—something that drags down the group or exposes it to risk. And for many men, seeing another man suffer can stir up buried shame or fear about their own vulnerabilities, leading them to distance themselves rather than lean in. It’s not cruelty—it’s biology and conditioning.

This fragile in-group bias creates a massive hurdle for any effort to advocate for men. Men’s rights movements, fatherhood initiatives, male mental health campaigns—they all struggle not just because society ignores them, but because men themselves often fail to show up for one another. And this problem isn’t just internal. It’s magnified by something even larger: gynocentrism.


Gynocentrism: The Cultural Blind Spot

Gynocentrism is the cultural tendency to prioritize women’s needs, feelings, and safety—often at the expense of men. It’s not just a personal bias; it’s institutional, ideological, and deeply embedded in our narratives about right and wrong. From early childhood, boys are taught to protect girls, to defer to their emotions, and to take responsibility for female wellbeing. “Never hit a girl.” “Be a gentleman.” “Sacrifice for your wife.” These messages, ​no matter how well-meaning, train boys to associate virtue with serving women. They are rarely taught to protect or serve each other. This conditioning only deepens with age. In politics, education, and media, men gain status by defending women—not by defending men. A man who speaks up for women is seen as noble and progressive. A man who speaks up for men is seen as angry, bitter, or fragile—even by other men.

In a gynocentric culture—where women’s needs are prioritized and viewed through a moral lens—advocating for women is seen as virtuous, while advocating for men is viewed with suspicion or hostility.

🟣
 

“Women’s advocacy is empathy”

When women advocate for women (or when men advocate for women), the culture responds with compassion, validation, and support. It’s framed as morally good, emotionally sincere, and socially necessary. Example: “We need to hear women’s voices.” “Support women’s mental health.” “Believe women.”

“Men’s advocacy is grievance”

When men advocate for men, it’s often framed as whining, resentment, or a push to reclaim lost power. Instead of evoking empathy, it triggers defensiveness, mockery, or accusations of misogyny. Example: “Why are you complaining?” “This sounds like toxic masculinity in disguise.” “You just want to take us back to the 1950s.”

Say the phrases out loud “We need to hear men’s voices“ or maybe “Believe men.“ Can you feel the difference?

⚖️
 

So the double bind is:

  • Women can talk about their pain and gain moral authority.

  • Men talk about their pain and risk losing moral credibility.


    In other words:

    If you advocate for women, you’re seen as compassionate.
    If you advocate for men, you’re seen as angry.

    That’s the trap—the double bind—created by gynocentrism. So male in-group bias—already fragile—is further fractured by gynocentric incentives.


The Costs of Division

This has enormous consequences.

When a man is falsely accused, other men don’t rally to his defense—they distance themselves.

When a father loses access to his children, he’s often blamed rather than supported.

When men talk about depression or suicide, they’re often met with discomfort, not compassion.

Meanwhile, female solidarity flourishes. Women have entire university departments, legal protections, and billion-dollar initiatives devoted to their advancement. And they have what men lack: a deep, culturally accepted instinct to care for each other.

The result is a lopsided world: female pain is collectivized and acted upon; male pain is individualized and ignored. It should now be obvious that working as a men’s advocate, a fatherhood proponent, or in any male-focused cause is an uphill battle—while those promoting women’s causes are coasting downhill with cultural tailwinds, institutional funding, and moral permission at their backs.

 

Rebuilding Male Solidarity

If men are to thrive—not just as individuals, but as a group—they must begin to reclaim something long buried: a sense of mutual loyalty. A belief that other men are not your enemy. That another man’s pain is not a sign of his failure, but of a culture that has failed us all.

This doesn’t mean abandoning competition or suppressing masculine traits. It means building solidarity around them. Men’s greatest strength has always been in what they can do together—on the battlefield, in a brotherhood, on a team. The challenge now is to transfer that loyalty into emotional and cultural arenas, where men are bleeding quietly in the shadows.

Men don’t need to become women to support each other. They just need to recognize that being on the same team means protecting the players who are getting crushed—by courts, by culture, by silence.

Male pain is real. Male sacrifice is real. Male disposability is real.

But male brotherhood can be real too—if we decide to make it so.

Men Are Good

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