Kim du Toit’s website—note the absence of a link—features the slogan, “Turning America back into a nation of riflemen, one person at a time.” This is accompanied by a little icon of a Minuteman with a long gun barrel sticking up out of his crotch.
I regret to say that this is relevant information.
Of late, du Toit has been getting more attention than he ever has before, and likely ever will again, for his essay on “The Pussification Of The Western Male.” What makes this worth mentioning now is the amount of enthusiastic approval it’s gotten from the dittoi and freepi, which has left me feeling acutely embarrassed on their behalf.
The essay begins, “We have become a nation of women”: a demonstrable untruth. If it were that easy for men to turn into women, trannies would be a lot more convincing than they are.
Besides, if all those men really had turned into women, they would have known better than to applaud du Toit’s essay. Why? Because every woman in the world knows that any time a man talks about men in general losing their masculinity, or mothers damaging their sons’ masculinity, or women losing their femininity, what he’s actually saying is, I feel painfully insecure about my own masculinity. Men who feel secure about their own masculinity don’t do that. Once in a while they may observe that a specific man of their acquaintance is being kept on a short leash, but they don’t generalize from the observation.
This makes “men are being pussified” a riff a variant of the “Some People” ploy, as in “Some people might get upset if you do that” (= I don’t want you to do that); invoking miscellaneous third parties, as in “The neighbors have all been saying that’s just the kind of person you are” (= I don’t want you to do that); the polite indirection of the Northern Tier “a guy” formula, as in “A guy might want to get a second opinion before he okays that guy’s estimates”; and claiming that one’s position is supported by the Silent Majority or by the lurkers’ e-mail.
I heard this one a lot in my youth, and was tremendously confused by it. How was it that men were in danger of losing their masculinity, and/or women of losing their femininity? I could tell the arguments were interchangeable, one the reverse of the other. I was solemnly warned against engaging in activities that might cause me to lose my femininity—having a non-trivial non-menial job, or competing in debate tournaments long enough to get really good at it—but how that connected with biology was a mystery. In my experience, femininity was something you couldn’t get rid of if you tried. It took me far, far, far too long to realize that “losing your femininity” meant “making the men around you feel like they’re not automatically the Masters of the Universe.”
That left me with only one more piece of weird encoding to figure out: masculinity. To hear these guys talk, you’d think their dangly bits were imminently going to shrivel up and fall off. Never happens. That’s because what they really mean by “masculinity” is something more like I feel like I’m not getting enough automatic respect and deference from the world around me. As often as not, what they’re actually upset about is the way they’re getting treated by other men, but they know they’re not going to get very far complaining to them. Instead, they tell their womenfolk that it’s all their fault for not showing enough respect for their masculinity.
It’s all a shuck. Men still go on being men, and their dangly bits are no more nor less efficacious than they ever were, whether or not their womenfolk agree to go along with the gag. I mean, if the degree to which a man is treated respectfully had a direct influence on his masculinity, middle-aged white execs would be superstuds, and inner-city young black men would be so meek that they’d make Alan Alda look like Rambo.
Making Light salutes Kim du Toit.
What set du Toit off in the first place is a little harder to divine. He seems to be upset over people making fun of Bush playing dress-up in a flight suit on the U.S.S. Abraham Lincoln. I think someone must have told him about Bush raiding the sock drawer.
Other casus belli:
—Ever since women were given the vote, they’ve been influencing public laws and policies in favor of things that are safe, sane, and practical.
—Queer Eye for the Straight Guy is allowed on tv.
—Annika Sorenstam was allowed to play golf in a PGA tournament.
From that, we went to this: the Cheerios TV ad.
Now, for those who haven’t seen this piece of shit, I’m going to go over it, from memory, because it epitomizes everything I hate about the campaign to pussify men. The scene opens at the morning breakfast table, where the two kids are sitting with Dad at the table, while Mom prepares stuff on the kitchen counter. The dialogue goes something like this:
Little girl (note, not little boy): Daddy, why do we eat Cheerios?
Dad: Because they contain fiber, and all sorts of stuff that’s good for the heart. I eat it now, because of that.
LG: Did you always eat stuff that was bad for your heart, Daddy?
Dad (humorously): I did, until I met your mother.
Mother (not humorously): Daddy did a lot of stupid things before he met your mother.
Now, every time I see that TV ad, I have to be restrained from shooting the TV with a .45 Colt. If you want a microcosm of how men have become less than men, this is the perfect example.
What Dad should have replied to Mommy’s little dig: Yes, Sally, that’s true: I did do a lot of stupid things before I met your mother. I even slept with your Aunt Ruth a few times, before I met your mother.
That’s what I would have said, anyway, if my wife had ever attempted to castrate me in front of the kids like that.
But that’s not what men do, of course. What this guy is going to do is smile ruefully, finish his cereal, and then go and fuck his secretary, who doesn’t try to cut his balls off on a daily basis. Then, when the affair is discovered, people are going to rally around the castrating bitch called his wife, and call him all sorts of names. He’ll lose custody of his kids, and they will be brought up by our ultimate modern-day figure of sympathy: The Single Mom.
You know what? Some women deserve to be single moms.
Men shouldn’t buy “self-help” books unless the subject matter is car maintenance, golf swing improvement or how to disassemble a fucking Browning BAR. We don’t improve ourselves, we improve our stuff.
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Call this a government! why, just look at it and see what it’s like. There was a free nigger there, from Ohio, a mulatter, most as white as a white man. He had the whitest shirt on you ever see, too, and the shiniest hat. And there ain’t a man in that town that’s got as fine clothes as what he had. He had a gold watch and chain, and a silver-headed cane, the awfulest old gray-headed nabob in the State. And what do you think? They said he was a professor in a college, and could talk all kinds of languages, and knowed everything. And that ain’t the worst. They said he could vote when he was at home. Well, that let me out. Thinks I, what is the country a-coming to? It was ‘lection day, and I was just about to go and vote, myself, if I warn’t too drunk to get there. But when they told me there was a State in this country where they’d let that nigger vote, I drawed out. I says I’ll never vote agin. Them’s the very words I said. They all heard me. And the country may rot for all me, I’ll never vote agin as long as I live.