I love women. I really do. I care about women. There have been many women in my life: My mother; my sisters; my aunts; sisters-in-law; cousins not to mention the wives of friends, co-workers, the girls I’ve dated and the one that I married. All kinds of women – I loved them all. I love women as much as I love little children and I especially hate to helplessly bear witness to their struggles through all of life’s grief and pain.
I cared about women. I cared about women so much so that, having studied Psychology and Mass Communications I was aghast that the so-called Women’s Liberation Movement was part of a plot, not just to seduce and exploit women and girls as cheap, subsidized labor, but, and more importantly, blunt the Civil Rights Movement.
I cared about women. And when the modern day Feminism came along I cared enough to try to understand what it was all about, and what women wanted. I cared enough to dig deeply enough to try and understand.
Much to my grief, I am the only person, male or female, on the entire planet in fact, who cared enough about women to bother to look up the word ‘feminism’ in the dictionary.
Yes, it is a cult; it is brainwashing; my friends and my family; my country; the whole of civilization in fact, and all I hold dear, is in the grip and thrall of a backward-thinking, poisonous cult.
All the heroic ideals of manhood and the devinity, authority and responsibility of husbands and fathers has been destroyed; utterly destroyed.
I am the only person, male or female, on the entire planet, who cared enough to even look up the word ‘feminism’ in the dictionary.
I am apparently alone in all this, just me and my God. Although beset by sorrow I’m all out of tears and yearn for my death. Better death than this madness.