Why Men Hate Women

Before you get all excited, let me say that I am no feminist, far from it. I don’t think women should play lead guitar in rock bands, and I don’t want them to be sports commentators. I don’t want men to be strippers or nurses, either. If you need explanations for this, you know where to find me.

So, let’s examine why men hate women! Maybe you disagree with the premise, in which case, try thinking about burkas, chadors, clitorectomy, honor killings in India and Pakistan, blah blah blah. Now, all men are affected to some degree by their fear and loathing of women. This is not to say they don’t also love and desire women, but the fear and loathing exists at a primal subconscious level, and is played out continually in all societies. Bottom line cause: The first authority figure in every man’s life is a woman, whose power over him is absolute. She can withhold the breast, the bottle, all forms of comfort, life itself. Bad Mommy! She is not always there to provide what he wants, and later, she will probably even yell at him when he pees on the floor. He will never get over this early experience, and he will project it upon every woman he meets for the rest of his life.

You might be asking why women don’t grow up hating women, but maybe you realize that because every female infant will grow up to be like mommy, they internalize her instead. She is not the enemy: she is their gender role model.

If you’re reading this and you’re a man, by now you’re either mad or snickering with distain. If you’re a woman, you’re going either Yes, thank you for articulating this Unconscious Knowledge, Sister Wolf! Or else you’re going Big duh. Men: WE KNOW YOU FEAR AND LOATHE US! We still love you and we need you for all kinds of things! We need you for sex, for money, for opening bottles and taking out the trash. We just can’t quit you! Don’t even worry. But we see your hatred every day, all over the world. You fear our sexuality, so you make us wear big blue beehives and cover our hair. Or you make us get breast implants in order to get your attention and/or demean us. You hate us when we’re assertive. Every male insult for women has to do with power: we are bitches, cunts, ball-breakers, shrews, battle-axes! Men don’t even try to insult us by calling us weaklings, or babies. Because those traits don’t make  us feel threatened (i.e. mad.)

Men love our bodies, but they must first overcome their fear and loathing of our V area, which in the adult woman is covered with hair. Eeow, get rid of that hair, it’s too scary! If we wax it off for you, though, it will look like a child’s V area, which is harmless. Not only that, a waxed V area is naked in a sad, vulnerable kind of way, like a sheared lamb. If you disagree with this last point, on aesthetic grounds, okay (you pederast!) but before I would wax my precious V, I would have to say: “First wax your balls, pal and then we’ll talk about it.” Finally, there is female armpit hair, the scariest sight you can impose upon any man in the Western hemisphere. If you’re a woman with unshaven armpits, you are a woman with THREE PUSSIES, and few men are up to that challenge. My husband however is one of them, I am happy to report. But the average man will react like a vampire faced with the sign of a cross.

There you have it. I feel this is enough to set you on the right track. I could elaborate for a hundred pages, but my pigsty awaits me, and my husband has rented a movie. Since he handles my armpits with such courage and grace, I will go and join him for the stupid movie.