I don’t know what’s more hilarious about all of this; your need to continuously prove yourself or the fact you seem to see all of this as a game? I love the whole checkmate thing and shit like that. I can picture you sitting wherever you live getting really excited, thinking (perhaps even out loud) “Now I’ve got’em!”
Ryder Spearmann, I Hate to Say it, But… You’re Right.
Bryce Post
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I dunno, I think it’s sad more than anything else. I feel sorry for him, I really do, because he’ll never know true intimacy (that’s hard to do when you don’t believe women are people who have autonomy and choices), and he misses out on all the incredible sex you can have with someone with whom you’re deeply in love. He’s so steeped in the toxic stew of masculinity-cum-patriarchy that the only emotion he can feel is anger; the only way he knows how to not feel inferior is to punch down, to make others hurt so he doesn’t have to; he will always be dependent on women to do his emotional labor, so he’ll never be grown up, but he will, eventually, be completely alone (as all the women will leave him once they come to terms with how much of a douche he is).

He can have his “logic” (and yes, I do use that word loosely — did you notice that per his reasoning, slavery is ok? I mean granted he’s probably a screaming lunatic of a racist, but even they don’t like to openly admit they’d like to own black people again). It’s cold comfort at night, when he’s all alone with his mind. He knows what kind of person he is.

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