The Dawn of White Pill

When I was in graduate school, I noted the anger of the women with whom I was attending.

There was a time when it was understandable, unavoidable really for women to be angry with their position in the world.

In some places there still is, for instance Saudi Arabia. I will come down squarely on the side that SA needs more women’s lib- not for the women’s sakes but for the country as a whole. If women can’t drive, how can the use of their intelligence be maximized for the ones who can and would become doctors, nurses and the like?

In other places, such as the United States, the pendulum has swung from a point were women were unfairly discriminated against ( no vote, no admission to professional schools) to the point where in at least some areas of society, they have it significantly easier than men, and in some cases such as the horror stories one hears from Family Court, men are actively persecuted with irrational unfair, and in my not qualified opinion unconstitutional phenomenon such as “imputed income.”

The point is not really the specific political facets of each environment, but to understand that history and political change is a process, and the pendulum swings back and forth.

In Czarist Russia, I’ve heard there were towns where all the able bodied men were conscripted for life-for life!- in the Czar’s army. I haven’t researched the exact veracity of this ( help welcome), but if that was true, one could easily see that this type of autocratic abuse could foment a revolution.

But then when the revolution comes, what then? It ended up with Stalinism, and on one of my trips to Russia my guide told me at the feet of a statue of Lenin, “They killed all our most intelligent people.”

If that is one half true, think of the burden for generations on that country.

So socio-political consciousness changes, political realities change as a result, and there is a continual swinging back-and-forth of circumstances as one side of a power struggle is ascendent, and the the other, and so forth.
Fairness is an abstraction, not a real thing, and it floats in between the poles of each conflict.

Fairness exists in reality only when a temporary and usually fleeting balance point is reached in the endless power struggle of life.

At all points in power struggles, the “other side” is vilified as a tactic, and productive cooperation between groups that might both benefit is prevented, delayed and sometimes subject to long-term destruction.
As an example of that, there are few Jews in Germany today, and who knows how long until the benefits of their presence there is felt again. And likewise the loss of the presence of Christians in certain parts of the middle east.

(I like to take an aggressive and proactive approach to the retrograde elements of “red pill” thinking, such as racism and ethnic prejudice. Judge behavior, not a person’s membership in a group. If millennia of brutal violent hatred and death doesn’t show you narrowness doesn’t pay, I’m certainly not going to convince you.)

Also retrograde is mutual blaming and dismissive judgments of the sexes by each other.

It’s true consciousness raising, both earlier among feminists and more lately among MRA and manosphere thinkers, is a necessary stage for a group to understand that some things are stacked against them.

But as I opined to my virulently angry grad school female student peers:

Anger is a stage one should get through before moving on to something more productive.

So I set my sights on the possibility of the mutual adoration  that has peered out from the arts and society thought history.

I have been to the mountaintop of love, and this experience has great meaning, regardless of the fact that one’s legs are sore the day after descending.  If you don’t like the price, you don’t have to buy it, but arguing that it’s only a disease– as some have used the term “oneitis”–doesn’t seem accurate to me.

So let’s on to the metaphysical poet Andrew Marvell,  1621-1678, who lives on.

To His Coy Mistress ( Excerpt)


But at my back I always hear
Time’s wingèd chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy beauty shall no more be found;
Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound
My echoing song;
The grave’s a fine and private place,
But none, I think, do there embrace.
Andrew Marvell reminds us: There is a limited time to love, to be angry, to do anything.
What is the more pleasant state to be in?

So we might as well fall in love.


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