Ace has up one of his extraordinary satisfying rants, the type that give you hope for the defeat of all morons everywhere. His beef is with men who spend an inordinate amount of time on social media talking about stuff. What sort of stuff? Well, whether they like to eat kale, or the fact that they just purchased a brand new amazing coffee machine thingy today and it makes like the best coffee ever!

I’ve complained about this a lot, but Twitter is the most estrogenizing toxin known to man, or to half-man shmans as you see on the internet.

I have this weird affliction, called heterosexual masculinity, which keeps me from offering strident, childishly-intense opinions about womanly creature comforts and sundry num-nums.

I don’t think people should have strident opinions about trivialities. Children have strident opinions about trivialities.

Men don’t. Men are supposed to be wise enough to know which things are trifling, and which things deserve their concern, and express themselves accordingly.

If it’s important, you say something.

If it’s not important, you practice the most ancient of all manly arts, the Manly Art of Shutting the F*** Up Once in a While and Giving Your C***slappers a Rest.

I cannot overemphasise how important this is. Facebook became a thing around 2006 I believe. Prior to its birth from the fetid scum hole of oblivion from which it was sprung, the internet was primarily a male space. Men inhabited the internet and they did manly things. Like sitting on message boards all day and arguing over which weapon wins in knife vs baseball bat. But such ridiculous banter was used to come up with practical solutions to pressing problems, (bat wins every time.)

But then came social media and women flooded onto the internet like SJWs being sucked into the screaming vortex that is the latest Ghostbusters movie. And before you knew it we had sites like Twitter and Instagram and all the rest of the face peeling sites that exist only for some idiot to state that he really doesn’t like it when Starbucks puts extra froth on his soy latte mocchacino, and then all the other people in the circle go oohhh and aaaahhh, and they offer their 2 cents, and the shithead who wrote the original tweet goes into a literal spasm of jerking off at all the attention he is receiving while he frantically tries to come up with some new pithy comment to make the twitterati go mad with social media van Lustbader.

I tried to do social media once because I thought it might be good for traffic to my website which translates into more books sold. It wasn’t any good, but mostly because I just couldn’t bring myself to dedicate any time to it. I don’t want to have to come up with pithy one liners all the time about a constant and ever evolving stream of subjects, stories, and hair pieces. But mostly it was because this sort of behavior is emasculating, but it wasn’t until Ace laid it out that it really clicked for me.

Men offering opinions all the time is unseemly and unmanly. For every tweet you make your soy count rises so as to match your masculine decline. It’s why I very rarely engage in the comments sections here. When I write an article I have stated my position on a topic. If readers want to then state their opinion on the same topic then that is perfectly fine. But I am not going to go back and forth as I have already stated my position with the original fucking article. I am not going to engage with trolls or SJW nimwits because all I need to do is to let their own words damn them. But they of course assume that because I did not immediately respond to their stupid comment that I was not able to refute them and thus they have disproved whatever it was that I was saying. Which is why I almost never respond to them. yes, please do assume that you won. Now fuck off and go and do some more of your winning somewhere else.

I get young men asking me all the time how to be a man in today’s world. Well, there’s a simple answer to that – stop acting like a woman. Stop displaying female behavior characteristics. Get outside and chop down a fucking tree. And when you’ve cut down the tree, don’t for the love of God take a photo and put it on social media. That’s just female attention whoring right there and you’re back on the estrogen social media ride once again. No photos, people. No photos ever. You’ve cut down the tree? Okay, now go and do something else. And at the end of the day you can sit and drink a beer and survey what you have done and be pleased with your work and then leave it at that. And the next day you can get up and do it all over again. And maybe at the end of the week you can go down to the local bar and shoot the shit with the locals, and if they ask you if you cut down any trees you can smile and say that you tried but one of them fell on your barn and then you segue into a funny story that has them all laughing but you never ever not even once say how many trees you cut down or how hard it was or how much work you did, and then over time they will come to consider you to be a stand up guy and women will notice that other men hold you in high esteem and the better of the women will seek you out and you can then select the one that you want and at the end of the day she can bring you a beer and some food after your hard day of cutting down trees.

Or you can post a picture of yourself on social media standing holding an axe while wearing your new checkered shirt and sporting a full beard as you proudly show the sapling which you manage to chop down while listening to a NPR podcast on tofu farming. How many likes and retweets did you get, fuckboy.