Oh, ain’t it funny how a heart

That loved you one time

Could be filled with so much anger

For you and your kind?

I hate you.

Oh, how I try to hate you.

I get bitter every time you run through my mind.

Between love and hate

There’s a little thin line,

And I’m trying to hate you right out of my mind.

— Ronnie Milsap, 1973

When modern feminism began as the “Women’s Liberation Movement” in the late 1960s, the men they hated were accused of male chauvinism, defined as “the belief that men are superior to women.” Thus, any man was a “male chauvinist pig” if he opposed the feminist movement. Within a few years, however, feminists changed their vocabulary so that their male enemies were accused of sexism, a word intended to have a meaning analogous to racism, and thus to imply a parallel between feminism and the Civil Rights movement. After a few years of slinging around that accusation, however, feminists realized that “sexism” had lost its rhetorical power, and so they upped the ante, accusing men of misogyny, defined as the hatred of women. And I plead not guilty, Your Honor.

Anyone who would accuse me of hating women is so completely wrong that, in a just world, I would be able to sue them for libel. The deliberate dishonesty of feminists in using this accusation — any man who disagrees with a feminist is automatically a woman-hater — offends me, and I suspect that many other men feel the same way. Yet feminists habitually engage in such slander, which I suspect tends to make this accusation operate like a self-fulfilling prophecy. Falsely accuse a man of “misogyny” and he’s likely to respond by calling you a bitch and then, “See? He called me a bitch! That proves he hates women!”

Nevertheless, there actually are men who hate women, and in such cases, it behooves us to ask the obvious question, “Why?” What is the root cause of the misogynist’s prejudice against women? Is it possible that some men are so badly mistreated by women that, from their individual perspective, it might seem that women deserve to be hated?

This is not merely a hypothetical question. Some women are just evil, and if a man doesn’t learn to recognize such monsters and avoid them, his experience might cause him to hate women quite generally. Did I mention that Miley Cyrus has got a new boyfriend? But I digress . . .

A bad woman can wreck a man’s life, but there is no recognition of this in feminist discourse, where men (yes, all men) are always to blame.

Do they actually believe their own rhetoric? In general, feminist discourse conveys the idea that women are so vastly superior to men that there is no female deserving of criticism, nor any male deserving of praise. It’s impossible to believe this, when you encounter stories like this:

Earlier this year, after buying his now-15-year-old daughter an AncestryDNA test, Christopher found out that he is not her biological father. His wife had an affair. (They also have a 13-year-old son, who is his biological child.)

Two and a half weeks after the discovery, he filed for divorce. We spoke about how [this] revelation has changed his family, what it’s like to parent a teen going through this, and the particular difficulties of talking about this as a man.

Cuckolded, quite literally. For 15 years, his two-timing no-good wife believed she had gotten away with her deception. Some quotes from him:

I’m into genealogy, and so myself, my ex-wife, and the grandparents are all taking the DNA tests. They had a Black Friday/Cyber Monday sale back last year, and my daughter was curious about her ethnicity and so she asked us for a test. My ex said, “No, you already know who you are because everybody’s tested.” I knew she was lying, so I said, “Okay, I’ll buy you a test.” . . .

I knew my ex-wife was having affairs back then, and I couldn’t catch her. When I bought the test, my daughter went and told her mom, and then an hour and a half, two hours later, in the middle of the night, my ex gets up and she says, “I need to talk to you ’cause I had an affair. I think it was a two-year-long affair.”

The worst was to see the reaction of my daughter. She just cried and cried. It was like a nuclear bomb going off. . . .

On the day that I found out, I was like, I wanted to reject her, because I said my boundary was I will not raise another man’s child from an affair. My mom put me straight. She was like, “She’s innocent in this. Don’t blame her.” So I consider her my daughter. I just say she’s my daughter.

Your mom is wrong, sir. She took your wife’s side against you, and your willingness to go along with this charade — pretending that this child is your daughter, because that’s what your mother told you to do — is a microcosm of what’s wrong with your entire life.

Hey, chump: Wake up. It’s not your daughter’s fault that her mother is a worthless cheating whore, but it’s not your fault, either.

Except, then again, maybe it is your fault. You say you “knew” she was having affairs before your daughter was born, and yet . . . you stayed?

Parents, show this to your sons and tell them to take notes:

DO NOT BE A WOMAN’S FOOL!

When you volunteer to be a doormat, you forfeit the right to complain about the footprints on your back. If you don’t understand this — if someone has taught you that “love” requires a man to suffer mistreatment without complaint — you need to forget what you’ve been taught, because hell to the no. LEARN TO WALK AWAY!

This is an example of what Rollo Tomassi calls “one-itis.”

We must assume that this man’s ex-wife is (or once was) quite good-looking. Men seldom make fools of themselves for ugly women. Fifteen years ago, she was such a hottie that not only did she have her husband wrapped around her finger, but she had other men chasing after her, too.

You might think the chump would have wised up, but no:

[E]ven in infidelity-support groups and domestic-dispute support groups, it’s a ton of women talking and only a few men. I think it’s shameful for a man to be open about it. It’s really hard on a man’s self-esteem and ego knowing that their wife or girlfriend got pregnant by another man. Men are more quiet about it. . . .

I told my ex-wife, “If you had told me back then, we would have had a greater chance of saving the marriage.” I would have maybe worked with her, so there’s that. I might not have divorced her 15 years ago if she had come clean. Lying to me for that long — to me, that was worse.

What the absolute hell is wrong with you, sir? Why would you care about “saving the marriage” to this worthless whore?

Oh, I forgot: She’s good-looking, so therefore you lost all self-respect and made a complete fool of yourself. You deserve your fate, sir.

Parents who do not instill in their children a sense of personal dignity are setting their kids up for a life of failure as adults. Everybody must suffer some damage in life. We all have our disappointments, and when those moments come, we must be able to pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off and move on with our lives. You can’t go through life holding grudges and brooding over everybody who’s done you wrong. As I frequently advise young people, “Keep your enemies list short.”

However, don’t let somebody play you for a chump. If you get played, whose fault is that? There are still honest people in the world, and you could have associated yourself with them; instead you got yourself involved with a worthless cheating whore. That’s on you, buddy.

Oh, I hate you.

Each time I cry I hate you.

Little drops of anger

Fall from my eyes.

You said that you loved me.

Tell me how could this fool be so blind?

And I’m trying to hate you right out of my mind.

See, that’s what country music is all about — crying over a two-timing, no-good low-down cheating woman that done you wrong. But whose fault is it that you went and fell in love with her, fool? Go look in the mirror and you’ll see a fool staring back at you. Blame him.

No, I don’t hate women generally, but what feminists never acknowledge when they’re ranting on about “toxic masculinity,” blah blah blah, is that there are some women in this world who deserve to be hated.

Sing it one more time, Ronnie.

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