More Professionally Offended

I see that CiF surpasses itself following the risible article by Peter Jones the other day. Joseph Harker, permanently offended by anything that he might consider to be racist (though, of course, in Joseph’s little world, black people aren’t capable of being racist). He comments on the silly Microsoft story whereby someone photoshopped (rather badly) a white man’s head onto a black man’s body. While it may have been unwise of Microsoft to have doctored this picture – not least because the hateful, bile mongering Joseph Harkers of this would would crawl out of the woodwork to cry “racist” at the top of their tiny voices, but because it is probably unnecessary anyway… After all, why not just take another picture?

Then, on the same day, we get a misandrous rant from Melissa McKewan, who despite an anti-man rant claims that she does not hate men.

There are also individual men in this world I would say I probably hate, or something close – men who I hold in unfathomable contempt. But it is not because they are men.

No, I don’t hate men.

It would, however, be fair to say that I don’t easily trust them.

My mistrust is not, as one might expect, primarily a result of the violent acts done on my body, nor the vicious humiliations done to my dignity. It is, instead, born of the multitude of mundane betrayals that mark my every relationship with a man: the casual rape joke, the use of a female slur, the careless demonising of the feminine in everyday conversation, the accusations of overreaction, the eye rolling and exasperated sighs in response to polite requests to please not use misogynist epithets in my presence or to please use non-gendered language (“humankind”).

The first thing that strikes me is that the lady doth protest too much. If a man had written such a dire piece of hateful generalist drivel about women, the professionally offended feminists would have been out in their droves claiming misogyny – something they see under every bed, lurking behind every corner, but that is mostly a product of their over active imaginations. Indeed, the women in my life have not been subject to the persistent abuse, harrasment and insult that the professional feminists claim to have had happen to them – and, frankly, looking at Melissa’s photograph, one tends to wonder why. Or is she fabricating it all?

Then there’s the last line of that quote – no, Melissa, people do not roll their eyes at your request for non-gendered language because they are misogynists, they do so because you are being a pompous self-righteous prig who cannot even be bothered to understand the roots of our language – and Melissa had better not learn French, where a mixed group of people is referred to in the masculine.

There are the insidious assumptions guiding our interactions – the supposition that I will regard being exceptionalised as a compliment (“you’re not like those other women”)…

Damn right you’re not like other women and thank Christ for that. Other women aren’t a bunch of spiteful misandrists.

CiF, once more demonstrating that there are no depths too low for it to scrape.

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Update: Mark Wadsworth also comments and reminds us of victimhood poker.