The Psychology Of Feminists And Manboobs


From the original article on April 18, 2012. Author: Chateau Heartiste.

Preface: I wanted to title this post “Monsters in our midst”, but thought that would be overkill.

Why do normal people feel a natural disgust for feminists and manginas? Make no mistake, normal women are as repulsed as normal men are by shrieking feminists and wimpy manboy pudgeballs. In public, well-adjusted people may mouth the PC platitudes that feminists and doughboys relentlessly cudgel into squishy groupthink minds, but in private the cool people generally shun the orc hordes and leave them to mingle with their own emotionally and often physically disfigured kind. This social outcast status is what fuels their eternal hatred for truth and beauty.

Feminism, whether dressed in ostensibly male or female cloak, strikes the hearts of healthy, self-confident people as inherently absurd and manipulative. Those who bother to closely examine the ideology find a minefield of lies and dissembling messengers. This naturally leads to questioning if there is something “off” in the aggregate with those who most vociferously preach the feminist word and harangue the heretics.

I have a theory that is perhaps the most politically incorrect thing you will read at the Chateau. The 800 pound bulldyke in the room that “””progressives””” of all stripes don’t want you to notice is that a lot of their radical regressivist shock troopers are comprised of biologically faulty men and women who are at the extremes of effeminacy and masculinization respectively. If it came to be widely understood and socially acceptable to acknowledge that, due to hormonal imbalance, genetic glitches, or gross environmental insult, 90% of radical femcunts are lesbians or manjawed atrocities, and 90% of manboobs are closet cases or soft, pillowy micropeens, the general population would be less likely to seriously entertain their insipid drivel. The mask would have slipped, revealing the feminist death underneath.

Think about the revulsion you feel when you see a grossly obese person. It’s instinctive, like the way you would recoil from a pile of dog shit. This revulsion is near universal. But why do we feel disgust for fat people? Hordes of obese have only been with us recently in evolutionary history. Instead of seeking an explanation in a “fat revulsion” gene, it’s better to think of our natural disgust for fat people as having its origin in a more general “abnormality” or aberration template deeply wired into our hindbrains.

This abnormality template — you could call it the monster mechanism — is easily triggered by the sight of anything which seriously deviates from its category’s normal phenotype range, provoking fear and disgust in the observer. You can find indirect confirmation of the monster mechanism hypothesis in the fact that it is limited to objects which exist in the state of nature, and therefore would have been around during the millennia humans evolved. For example, if you deform something that does not exist in the state of nature — a car, say — you may make it look really weird, but it won’t inspire visceral terror and revulsion.

But if you deform a human being by adding eyeballs, limbs or hundreds of pounds of fat, you get a nightmare creature that will make small children, who have not yet learned the proper polite restraint, cry. Similarly, masculinizing a woman or feminizing a man turns each into a monstrous aberration, the degree of perceived monstrosity and primally induced disgust proportional to the deviation from the normal sex phenotype.

Your typical outrage feminist and limp-wristed manboob flirts dangerously close to the monster threshold. Humans recoil from manjawed, mustachioed, beady-eyed, actively aggressive women and chipmunk-cheeked, bitch tittied, curvaceously plush, passive-aggressive men as if they were the human equivalent of dog shit. The farther your feminist or manboob deviates from the normal human template, in physical and psychological form, the more monstrous it becomes to the average person.

Now imagine you stomp through life as one of these howling feminists or putrid nancyboys, like Grendel disturbed by the sights and sounds of normalcy all around him. You sense, in your darkest secret thoughts, that most people are repulsed by you, want to have nothing to do with you, would be embarrassed to be seen with you. How do you think that would affect your mental state? First, you would seek out others like you. Monstrosity loves company. Then, you would lash out at anything normal, elevating the wicked and deviant while eroding confidence in the good and beautiful, twisting cherished moral standards that work adequately to sustain a normal population into bizarre, exaggerated facsimiles manufactured solely to do the bidding of your freak cohort.

Finally, you would attempt to do to the Other what you have felt from the Other your whole life — cast them into the icy wastelands. Due to a combination of hate-driven relentless energy as a perpetual outsider, plus elite co-conspiracy, you succeed... temporarily, always temporarily... at convincing large numbers of normals to blankly imbibe your warped truth. No one who is anyone would bother questioning your motivations, because that would be... unseemly.

And the Lords of Lies held dominion over all.

But that is changing now. The reflexive indulgence granted the monsters among us has lost its justification. Too many bleeding wounds from too many overzealous bites has rattled the slumber of the sleepers. A greater force than any sophistic monster in the world is about to bite back, viciously, lethally. Truth, as it always does, will claim ultimate victory.


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