Repost from the old site.
Cool post from the comments from an American mulatto woman, telling it straight up like it really is about masculinity, femininity and race:
I enjoyed reading your post. I am mixed-race, Black and white. I have been with both types of men. I feel that White males used to be much more masculine and the media portrayed them as masculine on TV, but now Black men are portrayed on TV as the heroes. On the other hand Asian men are under represented by the media.
Black men are too masculine for me, and I am really not attracted to them.
I wish White guys were the way they use to be – in charge and take control. As a female I feel that a lot of this has to do with the feminist movement. No other men in the world give their women as much freedom as the White male, and in the end they tend to lose their woman to other men because they have let go and have given her too much power.
In turn, the White female now has the power and is in charge in most White relationships.
As a female I have observed the huge difference in how a White female treats a Black male as compared to a White male. It is like night and day.
She is much softer and feminine with the Black male and takes care of him and his needs. With White males, all you hear is there was lots of sex before marriage, then after that she cut off the sex, then has a kid to keep him in control. This strategy does not work with a Black male because he may or may not even marry the White female and may or may not assume responsibility for the child.
This makes the Black male appear as a challenge to a White female or any woman for that matter. Also White men are handsome and may have facial features that are handsome, but no male has the body of a Black male when they are in shape. Muscles make a man appear masculine. I don’t date black men mainly due to the fact that I find them to be very promiscuous.
With Asian men the problem is their height. I prefer a man at least 5’10 at least. I find when the Asian man is mixed with white they are usually taller and better looking.
As far as Black females I feel that European males appreciate them more than White American men.
We showed this post to Sexmaniacman, a decayed roué, of doubtful origin and uncertain means of subsistence straight out of the Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte.
That does it, Sexmaniacman said. I knew there was a reason I never married! Lots of sex before marriage, then tie the knot and no more sex. Then the kid-anchor, or ball and chain. The anchor plus the no sex. Plus the bitching, carping, emasculating shrew-thing you’re forced to co-habit with.
I think at that point I might be feeling homicidal, he averred. Towards my wife, Sexmaniacman said. Yes, you read that correctly. Living alone sounds like a tropical island by comparison, and plus Sexmaniacman still doesn’t have any murder convictions yet.
Well, of course. The masculinity thing. Like the Kabbalist conception of God – that which can not only never be discussed, but can never be conceptualized either. Can you discuss masculinity with other males? You jest. With a group of males? The conversation will be shut down in no short order. With females? Oh, but they don’t understand.
Boo hoo. They whine sorrowfully, full of pity. Why are we fragile males so concerned about such a meaningless subject? Why are you guys so worried about that anyway? What’s the big deal? Why can’t you relax about it? After all, women don’t have complexes about their femininity, or whether or not they are a woman. They get furious when we won’t cry. And why should we? Men don’t cry, you know.
Read the story above, lady. That’s why it matters. Feminist Woman created Wormboy, and she’s been stomping her foot in frustration and screwing sociopathic Black men ever since. They demand that we cry like woosies, Sexmaniacman pointed out, then they get furious when we do because even they know crying’s not manly.
Unlike Sexmaniacman’s mother’s generation, they delight in attacking our masculinity when they get mad. Sexmaniacman’s Mom shook her head when he told her that. “Oh Sexdude, hun,” she said solemnly, putting her hand on his shoulder. “We would never do that. That’s one thing we would never do.”
Like guys in prison with Mom on their shoulder, Sexmaniacman cherishes his mother. If anyone suggests that he’s too close to her, he’ll just threaten to slit their throat, just like that.
It’s not just guys like Sexmaniacman who get it. All men do. The most macho guys Sexmaniacman ever knew have been taunted with this shit, and they are the most furious and homicidal of all about it.
One day Killerdude and Sexmaniacman were drinking and getting high.
Killerdude was feeling angry and homicidal, but that was ok, because men are supposed to feel that way sometimes. “Sexman. Bro. I want to kill her,” he confided. “I want to kill that fucking bitch.”
Sexmaniacman’s ears perked up. “Oh? Who?” It wasn’t every day they talked homicide.
Killerdude looked at the ground. He’d been shooting coke and doing lots of PCP lately. Just the other day, he was lying on the ground at Sexmaniacman’s place, pissing his pants, orbiting the solar system on angel dust, while Sexmaniacman and his friends were drinking and laughing at the spectacle.
“My old lady. I want to kill my old lady. I swear. I swear. If I could get away with it. I swear. If I could get away with it, I’d do it. Just like that. I’ve thought about it many times. I’ve got it all planned out. The crime, the weapons, the getaway, the whole thing. I just need you to swear you won’t tell.”
Sexmaniacman didn’t have any tea to stir, but he wanted to. He took a swig of beer instead. “Maybe. Maybe I could. Why? What did she do to you?”
Sexmaniacman knew Killerdude could do it, and he knew the bitch deserved it.
Killerdude was quiet. His mood was bleak and scary. “She took my kid. She won’t let me see my kid. And she attacks me. She attacks me as a man. She attacks my manhood. I can’t tolerate that.”
Sexmaniacman understood completely. In Man World, such a crime could and often did carry the death penalty. You attacked a real man’s manhood at your own risk, knowing that he may try to kill you anytime you did it.
“Yeah. I’ve seen that. She calls you Pipsqueak. You. Of all people. The most macho guy that ever lived. A lot of other dudes, I can see it. But you? No way.”
Killerdude is livening up. “Yeah!” He’s smiling and frowning, and he’s nervous and agitated, and it looks like he’s going to cry, all at once. “You’ve heard that? You’ve heard that? You heard that shit?”
Sexmaniacman was quiet. “Yeah.” He shook his head with mournful outrage. “I’ve seen it. Unbelievable. She practically deserves to be killed just for that right there.”
Killerdude is out of his chair, jumping up and down, spilling his beer. “Cheers!” They clash bottles.
Attacking their manhood, the ultimate weapon of modern woman. The weapon that violates all rules of the World of Men. For in Man World, there are all sorts of highly intricate rules, and there is even a Geneva Convention. If you attack a man’s masculinity, that’s a war crime, and he has a right to punch you, and no one can stop him. He doesn’t have a right to kill you, but many times he’ll do it anyway.
Well, women get to violate all the rules of Man World and violate all the conventions too. All war crimes are on the table. The bitches can do anything, and we can’t even raise a pipsqueak in defense, Sexmaniacman noted angrily, or they call the cops and lie and say we beat them.
Sexmaniacman actually opposed misogyny, believe it or not. Misogynistic porn and misogynistic websites make him frown. The web sites tell how to treat your woman just shitty enough in some certain ways to make her really love you. Yuck.
A friend told Sexmaniacman, “You can’t be a nice guy to women, Sexguy. You’ve got to be an asshole. You’ve got to be an asshole to women. That’s what they want. They want to be treated like shit by a macho jerk so they can sit around with their girlfriends and complain about how their boyfriend treats them like shit.”
Sexmaniacman has a feeling he’s right, but it bothers him, and he thinks he still can’t do it.
I really don’t care if girlfriends hate me, Sexmaniacman said. They can hate me all they want to, as long as they still keep coming around. They can call me names, insult me, call me lazy, rage at me, threaten to kill me or cut my dick off. It’s not exactly optimal, but it’s pretty much unavoidable. Hopefully, I’ll just laugh in her face, Sexmaniacman thought.
Just hate me as a man, that’s all I ask.
Don’t hate me as a not-man, Sexmaniacman said. That I won’t tolerate. No wonder that’s their favorite weapon, their secret weapon.
Don’t date other guys, or screw other guys, and wave them in my face, just to taunt us, Sexmaniacman said, waving his beer bottle in the air and taking a swig.
Women do this to us nowadays. They don’t just screw other guys while they are with us. That might be tolerable if they were civilized enough to keep it a secret, but of course they’re not.
No, they do it right in front of our faces. They parade the new guy, or the other guy, or whoever the Hell the jerk is, around right in front of our faces, just daring us to do something about it. Hard to believe? Just try.
Feminist Woman created Wormboy, and she’s been stomping her foot in frustration and having masochistic sex with 80 IQ thugs and ex-cons, ever since.