Friction between the genders is a barren pursuit. At an instinctual level I can never trust a man with a psychological loathing of the opposite sex beyond an understandable level of lived cynicism.
Perhaps it’s the white knight in me but in all my time as a right-wing extremist my stomach churned at the notion of Men’s Rights Activism and the babyish misogyny that goes along with it. If you’re going to be a reactionary, at least do it properly.
On the flipside I recognise the identical venom within modern feminism, playing on the same angst as their opposite numbers within the Mens’ Rights Movement.
This week the tragedy in Tullamore has unleashed a latent tidal wave of mental anxiety among Mná na hÉireann, the scale of which has not been fully comprehended by those of us on the mainly male dissident right in Ireland.
Already suffering the highest rates of depression in Europe, the mental health of many young Irish women has fallen foul to (social) media hysteria beyond our contemplation.
While people on our side of the aisle have been rightly probing the multicultural aspect of the murder, few have been willing to face up to the very large sociological elephant in the room.
Irish women, or a substantial number of those of college age are cracked. It is a trend I take no joy in reporting, but a recurrent motif I have seen throughout my university years, plastered onto social media feeds and within personal circles as the liberal envelope has been pushed further and further in Irish life.
Almost to a tee, the very same women who flocked to the Repeal and Extinction Rebellion banners are fast developing symptoms of extreme mental trauma. Used as political battering rams by the media and political complexes that desire nothing short of our national extinction, these women are the cruel social casualties of this agenda.
Allegorically, as a college-aged man I can recount various instances of friends reporting lovers breaking down at the notion of conceiving children due to inevitability of climate collapse in their eyes, or an unwarranted phobia about Irish maternity wards due to the lies of the Repeal years.
To the bemusement of the young men running this publication there have been cases of young female left-wing activists we know in University suffering semi-serious mental outbursts from reading our articles.
We know these women and their lives of self-medication, online sex work and bedroom masochism with their ceaseless dedication to whatever activist goal social media dangles in front of them. As much as we clash swords, we do empathise both as men driven by a yearning to restore our society back to some sort of equilibrium.
So many of these women have swallowed the propaganda line on these previous campaigns, and they are this week flailing at the notion that all men are potential predators. The normalisation of OnlyFans and continued rise of SSRIs the past 18 months among them has caused more damage to our social fabric than anything Tony Holohan can report at a NPHET conference, and all of it has transpired without an ounce of cultural opposition.
Modern men are by no means oil paintings themselves, but the standard anxiety synonymous with young women in a normal era is very clearly being tapped into and weaponised for nefarious ends.
The empty rhetoric we’ve heard and its onus on social engineering to split men from women eschews any rational reforms that would protect women practically.
Spend five minutes in our court system and one will know that it leans in favour of the perpetrator rather than victim. Navigate Dublin’s streets on any given day to understand the intensity of violence left unpolicied.
The campaigners and NGO goofballs that stood beside George Floyd and George Nkchenko when it suited them now stand as vocal advocates against violence towards women. The same people who would be calling your HR woman if you linked travellers to criminality and deny gender reality on the trans issue now want a national conversation about male-led violence.
The Irish Left and its countless instances of internal sexual abuse mounts the pulpit to moralise on matters of misogyny to a society and social constituency that they helped mentally break.
In many respects, the Left shamelessly does exactly what it accuses the Right of doing in seeking to profit from deaths like that of Tullamore.
Similar to the horrid Belfast rape trial, or the various media spun tragedies which helped spike the abortion debate any female related tragedy of this nature is immediately tied to a anti-male script.
In response to this we have the rather hard task of stepping over the temptation for gender tit for tat into formulating pathways to revive our society. Not by dividing the genders further, but by creating the social institutions that have a natural ability to solve problems relating to sexual violence.
Patriarchy doesn’t smother women but protects them. Irish masculinity doesn’t threaten women but ensures that the malcontents who do so end up getting a few discrete slaps as warranted.
I’ve often pondered if on an instinctual level these women sense the declining vitality in Irish life and their activism is merely a hapless cry for help. The psychosexual angle is beyond me, but like a type of Gaia cult arriving before the fall of Rome, this plague of engineered female hysteria we see within Extinction Rebellion must be a sign that the end is nigh.
The prospect of stitching our society back together when eventually we get this Liberalism through our system benumbs me at times. Eastern Europe, despite the nationalist bravado we associate with it, is still bearing the heavy social wounds of communism and secularism.
On certain issues I am happy to be in accordance with feminism. Ignoring the anti-nature elements posited by the Gloria Steinems and Ruth Coppingers of the world, one can see in it a primordial female disquiet with modernity. A disquiet which if properly directed can veer rightwards as well as helping in the revival of Irish life.
The sad reality is that we will spend most of the next century slowly repairing the structures our parents and grandparents took for granted with regard to the social regulation of the genders. National rebirths are as much about creating households to nurture children as they are radical assertions of ethnic identity, and the Irish nation is dead at the starting blocks if it fails at that.
Like a child wishing his parents not to divorce I do not want to live in a moribund society of bickering, sexless and atomised consumers as we run down the demographic clock. Neither do you, I hope.