August 03, 2004

On Masculinity

Via Michelle Malkin comes this rather idiotic essay reprinted by Jen Martinez. The original is here; it's by Gramaugus of Frizzen Sparks, and contains a lot of hand-wringing about how men just aren't masculine enough any more:

Ok folks, I have had it. I've taken all I can stand and I can't stand no more. Every time my TV is on, all that can be seen is effeminate men prancing about, redecorating houses and talking about foreign concepts like "style" and "feng shui." Heterosexual, homosexual, bisexual, trans-sexual, metrosexual, non sexual; blue, green, and purple-sexual-bogus definitions have taken over the urban and suburban world!

Real men of the world, stand up, scratch your butt, belch, and yell "ENOUGH!" I hereby announce the start of a new offensive in the culture wars, the Retrosexual movement.

Of course, those real men who want to publicly belch and scratch their butts may find it more difficult to behave like heterosexuals . . . unless heterosexuality is only a matter of reading skin magazines with one hand. Or resorting to Jen Martinez. Of course, Martinez won't be interested; she's hopped into her time machine to look for a cro-magnon.

Some characteristics are given for the ideal male, a "retrosexual":

A Retrosexual will have hobbies and habits his wife and mother do not understand, but that are essential to his manliness, in that they offset the acceptable manliness decline he suffers when married/engaged in a serious healthy relationship - i. e., hunting, boxing, shot putting, shooting, cigars, car maintenance.

There's some sort of masculinity point system in play here; men must have lots of macho in the bank, so that they can take the "acceptable manliness decline" it takes to get married. In contrast, my husband gets more masculine with each passing year. Of course, some of us see real masculinity, done right, as a mature shouldering of responsibility, rather than a cheap conglomeration of superficial traits.

Apparently, real men are also adept at dealing with snow:

A Retrosexual man can drive in snow (hell, a blizzard) without sliding all over or driving under 20 mph, without anxiety, and without high-centering his ride on a plow berm.

There are therefore no Real Men in the entire South or Southwest. Unless they moved from somewhere else. If such men do drive in a snowy region they should do it drunk, so they can be free of "anxiety."

Naturally, I was reminded of this stupid chestnut by Kim du Toit, "The Pussification of America," in which he essentially tried to tell me that my brother and father weren't masculine because they don't work on cars, and that my husband is only masculine enough because he owns guns—and barely so, as I understand it. When I first read it I was astonished that someone would actually attempt to dictate to men what their hobbies should be:

Men shouldn't buy "self-help" books unless the subject matter is car maintenance, golf swing improvement or how to disassemble a fucking Browning BAR. We don't improve ourselves, we improve our stuff.

Beautiful, I remember thinking at the time. So if you're an asshole, you get to stay an asshole, because that's more manly. Damned convenient. Character, apparently, never enters into the du Toit conception of masculinity.

HereÂ’s another way of looking at it: a real man doesnÂ’t need to be told by any idiot blogger what hobbies he may or may not have.

My husband got shot while serving his country, and in fact he does like to get together with his best guy friend and watch Westerns. But if he were cooking or knitting or gardening or buying clothes for himself—or, yes, figuring out how to improve the feng shui in the house—heÂ’d damn well have earned the right to do that.

IÂ’m really fed up with people—men and women—who purport to tell us exactly what Real Masculinity should look like, in every particular. They are not liberating us from the stultifying realities of modern life. They are simply dictating, Taliban-style, what society should look like.

Good God, Jen. Find yourself a nice caveman, by all means. And all of you: leave my husband, my brother, and my father alone.

UPDATE Jen apparently didn't write the essay; she reprinted it (without making it a blockquote; hence my [and Michelle Malkin's] confusion). I've re-written the opening paragraphs as best I can and added a link to the original.


Posted by: Attila at 02:51 AM | Comments (13) | Add Comment
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