MRAturday: Hilariously Sad Tales of Men’s Rights Activism

MRAturday: Hilariously Sad Tales of Men’s Rights Activism

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Whenever people discuss the problems that women face in today’s world, somebody always pipes up, “What about the men? Why isn’t anyone worried about men’s problems?”

Fortunately, there is a group fighting for the needs of men.

Unfortunately, that group is the men’s rights movement, and it’s completely bonkers.

In this new series, Unicorn Booty will take a look at some of the bizarre, ridiculous, and occasionally horrifying battles fought by the men’s rights movement.

This week, we’re going to take a look at how men’s rights activists (MRAs) courageously battle the ball-crushing threats of furniture and basic hygiene.

Disclaimer: I will not distinguish between the different flavors of men’s rights activist: pick-up artists (PUAs), Men Going Their Own Way (MGTOWs), Red Pillers, etc. Saying, “That guy’s not an MRA! He’s a PUA!” is the same as saying, “My shirt’s not pink! It’s salmon!” I don’t care which subspecies of douche each individual calls himself. Here is how I’m defining MRA: a terrible goober who claims that men are oppressed because women can choose who to have sex with. Just be grateful I didn’t use Marc Maron’s term: “unfuckable hate nerds”. 

(via Flickr user Jelle)

Feminists often complain that society tries to control women’s bodies by denying women access to reproductive health care. But what about men? According to some MRAs, society oppresses men by asking them to sit in wooden chairs, wash themselves and stop shitting.

The Fight Against Furniture

MRA Tom Martin sued the London School of Economics for discrimination against men. The reason? The library had wooden chairs, which he claimed are less comfortable for delicate male hineys. Camden New Journal explains:

Mr Martin… said “hard” chairs in the library were uncomfortable for men and that a “male blaming culture” was evident in course materials, which “ignored men’s issues” and focused on wrongs done by them.

Misandry! (via Petr Kratochvil)

Alas, the feminists had already infiltrated London’s courts, so the lawsuit was rejected.

According to Martin’s Twitter bio, he is currently single.

The Horrors of Hygiene

MRA/confirmed basement dweller Daryush Valizadeh (who writes under the name Roosh V), opined that the modern world robs men of their freedom by “forcing” them to alter their bodies in order to get laid. What are these horrifying procedures demanded of men by the matriarchy? Valizadeh lists them:

  • Brush my teeth
  • Wipe my ass thoroughly
  • Shower
  • Remove boogers and other debris from my nose
  • Comb my hair
  • Wash clothes
  • Remove eye gunk after waking up
  • Dab off extra grease on forehead with napkin

According to MRAs, basic hygiene is a feminazi tool designed to oppress men. In an MRA utopia, men would walk around proudly with gunk in their eyes, cavities in their teeth, boogers in their noses and poop in their pants.

Another victim of matriarchal oppression (via)

The Power of Poop

Roosh isn’t the only MRA fighting for men’s right to cover themselves in feces. According to Buzzfeed, Paul Elam, the head of MRA propaganda hub A Voice for Men converted to men’s rights activism after an evil female tried to infringe upon his freedom to defecate uncontrollably:

Men’s rights activists often cite the first time they realized it’s a woman’s world. They call these “red pill” moments, after the scene in The Matrix when the main character is faced with the decision to swallow a red pill and recognize the true nature of the world or take a blue pill and continue living a lie. For Elam, that revelation came at age 13, when his mother tried to force him to take his diarrhea medicine.

Apparently, the blue pill that MRAs are always ranting about is Imodium AD.

(By the way, isn’t it funny that all these misogynists worship a movie made by a pair of trans sisters?)

“You take the red pill, you become an MRA. You take the blue pill, you stop spewing shit in every direction.” (via)

So the next time you see a man wallowing in his own filth or sobbing over the firmness of his seat, don’t dismiss him as a weirdo. Recognize him as a heroic defender of men’s rights. Thank him for protecting men’s valuable butt cheeks against the unholy trinity of soap, hard furniture, and diarrhea medicine. Salute him. Shake his hand. Then go wash yourself very thoroughly because that guy is probably crawling with fecal bacteria.

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