Every once in a while on here, I touch on the subject of the “Red Pill”, which the vast majority of the people who visit this site will be quite familiar with, and most likely also identify as.
The Red Pill is (to me) an informed, unblinking understanding of the true nature of relationships between men and women (for better or for worse).
In the late Spring of 2014, when I frustratingly left a terrible relationship with a malevolent parasite of a woman, I was looking for answers. I had treated her like a queen, bent over backwards catering to her every need, and dumped tens of thousands of hard-earned dollars into the toilet, all for nothing. The last six months of our time together, I was treated as fucking vermin, despite my efforts to “just be a good dude”.
Truthfully, I was pissed. I was in the early stages of completely rebuilding my life from a pile of rubble, and she proved to be a huge stumbling block in this process. I wanted to know why. I wanted to know how a relationship turned into such a disaster, when I had supposedly done everything right. I was single for the first time in a long time, and I didn’t want to end up entangled with another nightmare like her.
Inevitably, I stumbled across some Red Pill literature, and started devouring it. At first, being a socially-conditioned drone, I recoiled in disgust at the ugly, inconvenient truth it presented. “This has to be wrong” I told myself. But after reading horror story after horror story on Reddit and various blogs, then seeing how plenty of men had adapted to FLOURISH in this bleak landscape, I stopped fearing the truth.
It’s an unsettling feeling, learning that you’ve been lied to and intentionally misled for your entire life. When you’ve struggled and suffered as a result of living by those lies, the feelings of unease can easily turn towards anger, misery, and a defeatist, “I give up” mindset. In my case at least, I chose to learn and apply the knowledge I was absorbing, and my life became FAR better as a result of this.
I had successfully de-programmed myself.
Around the same time, I started to notice some other changes of perspective that were surprising, to say the least.
I had, since Freshman year of college (go figure) in 2000, referred to myself as a Liberal. I protested the Iraq war. I was a huge pussy, terrified at the thought of being sent off to the desert to fight for my country. My friends and I started calling anyone who sported an American flag a “redneck” and an ignorant, racist Bush supporter. I fully supported John Kerry in 2004, and Obama in 2008. I loved the idea of socialism, because I wasn’t willing to work hard to get what I wanted, and believed it should be handed to me by daddy government. Despite knowing deep down that this was a warped vision of the world, driven by cowardice, failure, and laziness, it was a popular outlook with others my age, and one that aligned nicely with my almost nonexistent standards at that time.
Throughout my twenties, I made it a point to suppress any controversial viewpoints, be politically correct (all the ugly punk-rock girls I knew seemed to like it when I was, surprisingly I still wasn’t getting laid… how interesting), to never be critical of feminism, to never even MENTION race or religion (unless it was to ridicule Christians), to be a good, obedient little boy. Outwardly, I joined my peers and scoffed at the ideas of conservatives as archaic, oppressive, twentieth-century naivete. After all, it was (the current year) and PROGRESS was the name of the game.
Beneath the surface, though, things still didn’t sit right with me. If I ever saw a minority acting like an animal in public, I wasn’t allowed to acknowledge it. When I heard “straight white male” used as a derogatory term, I had to hang my head in shame, although I had done nothing wrong. After all, my ancestors were straight white men, and they had helped to build steel mills, fight the Nazis, worked with Nuclear energy, lasers, and robotics, all while being committed to their families. They were good men. Brave, hard-working, and strong. Why were they so hated by the progressives?
I would go to progressive political events, but looked around and saw nothing but ugliness, failure and degeneracy. Obese 40-year old virgins. Filthy, drug addicted crust-punks who would beg me for money. Surly, androgynous women with leg hair, facial piercings, and an illogical hatred for those who ate meat. Effeminate, fixie-riding man-children who spent their days in a marijuana and noisecore-fueled haze. And hippies. I made the decision that I did not belong in this environment, with these people who represented the failures of modern society. And largely, the politicians I had voted for were failures as well. Obama’s America was no different than Bush’s, so I wrote all of it off. Politics were a sham, I decided, and vowed to shut myself off from it altogether.
From 2009-2013, I was largely apolitical, avoiding cable TV or reading political rants on facebook. But in 2013, I would occasionally read Gawker (via Jalopnik, a formerly great site, now irreversibly tarnished, as it’s under the umbrella of Gawker) and curiosity would get the best of me. Here and there, I’d check out some of the political articles. At this point, I had long since walked away from the progressives themselves, but finally started to come to terms with just how ridiculous and harmful the narrative itself was. There would be glaring discrepancies and absolute refusal to confront anything that didn’t support their reality. There were huge holes and omissions in the story. Inconvenient, unpleasant, yet factual truths were immediately mobbed and shot down, using terms such as “racist” “bigot” “hate-monger” and “___-phobe”. I would occasionally have a look at Jezebel, and it got even more ludicrous. Article after article insinuated that I, as a straight, white man could be nothing other than a moronic, destructive monster, and “the real problem here” while glorifying obesity, degeneracy, sloth, and mediocrity.
And so, when in the midst of all the aforementioned Red Pill literature I was absorbing in late 2014, it became impossible for me to miss the correlation between feminism, the twisted progressive narrative, and blue-pill men. This wasn’t a case of a few isolated and independent opponents, but rather more like a Hydra, the multi-headed beast.
I couldn’t shy away from the political side of things, or pick and choose one of the heads of the Hydra to confront. The Red Pill is an all-or-nothing proposition, you either understand the scope of the whole mess, or remain ignorant and disjointed, blind to the root causes of why our current social landscape is such a nightmare.
Being a blue-pill “man” is to stay willfully trapped in a complex, multi-layered snare. It is designed with the purpose of keeping you dumb, distracted, fat, estrogenic, miserable, subservient, tired, indebted, inebriated, scared and weak. You are a castrated pawn, willing to sacrifice your purpose, happiness, and vigor for the promise of $2000 every two weeks to spend on college football cable packages, processed food, a comfortable McMansion, and a new Hyundai loan every three years. Breaking out of this mold is to utterly reject the narrative in every sense of the word, in order to live a truly happy, fulfilling life.
Progressives, feminists, and enemies of free speech are horrified by the thought of a mass exodus from the oppressive, miserable world of mediocrity and censorship that they’ve created. The rise of the Manosphere has effectively told these shitheads that we’re onto them, and we’ve had enough. Word-twisting, public shaming, and outright silencing (on the grounds of “offensive speech”) are their favorite weapons. If you step out of line, you get smoked. However, it’s not difficult to see how one can be exempt from these tactics: wholeheartedly reject the progressive narrative, become completely self-sufficient, and live on your own terms. When you don’t answer to anyone, their weapons become meaningless.
But for some who have come around, they’re already in too deep. For them, social pressure is a factor. Having traditional, conservative beliefs is, in 2016, to be labeled a bigot, a racist, and a hate-monger. Still having to answer to an HR department or any other controlling entity means that they can’t be as vocal as they’d probably like to be. Like the men who read Good Looking Loser or Danger and Play “on the down low”, I would have to estimate that there’s colossal amounts of men and women out there who are pulling for Donald Trump privately. The progressive narrative is utterly merciless to all who oppose it, so most will likely choose to remain in the shadows.
In day to day life, I don’t really wear my heart on my sleeve. I think I own a grand total of two tee shirts with anything printed on them, neither political in any way. I don’t rock a MAGA hat. I don’t want to see my car vandalized, so there’s no Trump sticker on my bumper. I don’t leave my house looking for a fight, because it’s not worth it to me, and I can’t get any work done from the inside of a prison cell. If asked my viewpoint, I will enthusiastically make it known who I am supporting (which usually comes as a surprise, especially to people I’ve known for years), but I don’t go out of my way to broadcast my personal views to everyone I come into contact with (unless we’re talking about Twitter). In most cases, it simply invites arguments by dim-witted people who are consumed by the progressive narrative. Although this can be entertaining, it’s by no means a productive use of my time, and as I said, it would be difficult to get anything done if I ended up in prison. I have total respect for those who make a bold statement, but in the case of politics, that’s really not who I am. I’m voting for Trump. If you knew me, you’d probably have that figured out by the way I live my life and my viewpoints on certain issues (and the fact that I have yet to see a single Bernie or Hillary supporter who looks like they’ve ever been in a weight room).
I’m not going to list each facet of my personal belief system, but as a whole, I believe that conservative values, traditional gender roles, and a coherent National identity (as opposed to a Globalist identity) makes for a thriving society. This is not something I just “decided” upon, as the Red Pill has not so much CHANGED my viewpoints on the world, rather it has allowed me to be confident enough to no longer hide behind a mask of political correctness and progressivism to “not make any waves”. I am writing this not as an expert in realm of politics or social sciences, but as a former underachiever and “regular guy” who let himself get burned one too many times, wanted to know why, and kept digging to see how deep the rabbit hole went.
The world is changing. As more men realize how powerless and disposable they are in the context of being a blue-pill supplicant, they are opening their eyes. They’re taking control of their lives, as opposed to zoning out and going along for the ride. And with this eye-opening comes the frightening, ugly, often inconvenient and “offensive” truth. But the truth is simply the truth. It doesn’t care about your feelings, or anyone else’s. Making peace with that fact allows for a much greater understanding of life in the modern age.
Thanks for reading.