Mummy and me go out (part 2)

I’ve used this title as its one of the more popular search finds on this blog. It has confused me why I get so many hits per day on it. Then I did some research into the search term. I was horrified by the results. It one if the top search terms in pornhub. This make me question why so many men want to “see” fictionalised incest lesbian porn. What the hell is going on in the minds of men now?

Do they kid themselves, in some siloed segment of their brain that they are not asking to watch a dramatisation of a criminal act or an actual criminal act? The internet has created some kind of mental firewall about consumption. If your asking to watch something criminal, you are an active participant in that crime, don’t men get it.

I don’t consider myself a feminist at all, but if anything I actively side with it as I find the current angry, self indulgent petulant, MRA/MGTOW mentality disgusting. Their outpouring, so deliciously mocked be David Futrelle at we hunted the mammoth, is an example of the disfunctions that are growing in western society.

Although these siloed mentalities will say that they are distinct and separate, one has nothing to do with the other. The rise of porn (more to the point abusive porn) and the rise of Man Anger come from the same consumer/producer, men – don’t kid yourselves its women this is all the fault if angry men.

So if you’ve found one of my posts hoping to see what I’ve describe above (the porn) then your out of luck.

My intention in this post is to discuss myself. I am an angry man. If any feminists come by this and want to ask questions about man anger with out it resorting to a Dean Esmay-esque ragefront or a Paul Elam style “your to blame” rant, well here I am.

I’d like to get to the root of my man anger, mainly because I want it over and gone and move on with my life. In the last five to six years I’ve descended into a pit. I think it’s down to something like imposter syndrome. I’ve always felt like an imposter having a family. From an early age it was hammered into me that I was a failure. Mostly it came about because of that fucked up notion of “sins of the father”. My father went to prison when I was six months old, and everyone made sure I knew about it.

So the concept that I was nothing but scum was hammered into me young and that the high point of my existence would be living in doorways and scrounging off the state.

I purposefully ran away from that environment and rose, I’ve had two stellar high points in my life to date, one in archeology and one in the city of London, yet both occasions imposter syndrome came along and kicked me in the gut and knocked me down.

I’m coming up to 50 years old now and I need to rise again, yet these knock backs are more of a focus that the successes I’ve had.

more to come as I think further.

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