Lesser Beta Of The Month: The Mewling Male Feminist

Are you curious what kind of wormy male wriggles just above the stinking detritus at the bottom of the male SMV barrel? Meet our Lesser Beta of the Month:

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I made this image in Texas while working on a story for MDS (Mennonite Disaster Service) about a group from an Amish community in Ohio that traveled down to Texas to help out local folks hit badly by rampant fires and flooding last year. I am posting this for two reasons. 1. This is my way of encouraging all of us (including myself) to find ways to involve ourselves in being rebuilders of brokenness. If not in the aftermath of Harvey currently ravaging Texas then perhaps in other areas of need in our communities. and 2. During coverage and other conversations about Hurricane Harvey, I’ve heard on more than one occasion about how this storm is going to require a “man sized” effort that could be drawn out for years and cost untold sums. In response, I am showing this image of this exceedingly capable and strong woman to help fight against that kind of sexist language, because of course the obvious truth is that women are as vitally important and as capable as any men can be. I know that many of us use languages like this casually and without meaning any offense or harm. I know that it's difficult to be mindful of such things when sexist language is so deeply ingrained in our cultural consciousness and subconsciousness (believe me I totally get it, because I catch myself more often than I like to admit). Nevertheless, I do believe it is vitally important being intentional about reducing our sexist language and actions as much as we are able to, because at its core it serves to dehumanize and to normalize the lie that one gender has more worth and is more capable and more important than others. Harvey has broken so many lives already. Let us not add to that by unnecessarily breaking each other further.

A post shared by Andrew Huth (@andrewhuth) on Aug 28, 2017 at 2:01pm PDT

Only a limp-souled mangina can be triggered to verbal apoplexy by the term “man-sized”. in response, he posts a photo of an Amish woman — a woman who supports and cherishes the most patriarchal subculture in America — either pushing aside or ducking under a slender tree branch as evidence in his stunted juvenile ball pit of a mind that women are as physically strong as men. This is the soiled diaper of inanity and virtue sniveling which the Lesser Beta is happy to squish around in all day if it means a pat on his ASCII head from fat feminists online.

What else does the Lesser Beta and intrepid defender of ye faire maiden’s honor excel at? Disavowing “female objectification”, of course! (While unwittingly disavowing the natural functioning of his own gonads.)

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I grieve over the fact that I grew up in a society and a time period where one of the first things I was taught about women from the well meaning voices all around me were commentaries about the appearance or “usefulness” of their bodies. Look at how beautiful you are! Well aren’t you a gorgeous princess. Oh my watch out, she’s going to be heartbreaker! Wow, you’re so sexy. Oh that Dad is going to have a hard time fending off all the boys when she grows up. I grieve this for many reasons, but one of them is because it has obscured the fact that bodies truly are beautiful and mysteriously amazing beyond explaining. Not as the object of someone else’s judgement or commentary, but INTRISICALLY beautiful in its own right. Think about your body for a moment. Big or small, scarred or markless, flat noised or sharply angular, long or stout, curvy or straight. It is a marvel and should BLOW ALL OUR MINDS! The way we often talk about bodies (women’s bodies in particular) strives to strip away their universally intrinsic beauty and instead cheaply commodifies it and seeks to take ownership of it away from them and into a thing for others to posses and place a value on. Like everyone else, me included, she isn’t immune to the damages of such toxic narratives about our bodies and from time to time feels that her body isn’t particularly beautiful. I won’t tell you that she is beautiful. I will simply tell you what I try and tell her on my better days (and I fail at it more often than I like). I love you. Please know that love is a slow burner of a thing. It has taken me awhile to get here, but the impossibly kind and generous life you lead has redefined for me what it means to be beautiful. Your sharply intelligent and creative mind engages and challenges me. And yes…your body is amazing. Not because I say so, but because it simply is. And because I’ve earned the right for you to care a little what I think of you, on our walk the other day, I took one camera and this one lens and I wanted to show you, YOU, as I see you

A post shared by Andrew Huth (@andrewhuth) on Sep 6, 2016 at 3:06pm PDT

“I grieve this…” Would someone pass the vomit bucket? Spewage incoming. That’s a lot of rambling incoherent poopytalk to say “you’re a butterface, honey”.

The Lesser Beta avoids slipping into Omega Male incel status by somehow securing for himself a homely female. Naturally, the daily reminder of his low SMV causes him to polish his lover’s pussy pedestal with the vigor of a man hoping to be blinded by the turgid light reflected off it.

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I've now been married to this woman a few years less than all the years I've spent not having known her. I've photographed her face more times than I could possibly remember. On certain days when we cross each other's space while we're carrying on with the mundane movements of our lives, I sometimes catch a glimpse of her face and realize that there isn't a line on her face that I don't thoroughly recognize. On other days, even when I'm gazing deeply into her eyes, lost in conversation, I realize her face is a total and utter mystery to me. Some days she is a vision of home–calming and steadfast and on other days she is a land foreign—a curiosity and complexity that I'm eager to discover and rediscover time and again

A post shared by Andrew Huth (@andrewhuth) on Aug 13, 2017 at 2:11pm PDT

My advice, kid. If you’re gonna do purple prose, take a T-boosting supplement before writing. It helps keep your readership awake.

Finally, our Lesser Beta in the skin-crawling flesh:

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I remain grateful that he still regularly asks if he can have sleepovers with Heather and me. I saw him take his very first breath in this world and instantly fell in love wholly and with all my body and being.

A post shared by Andrew Huth (@andrewhuth) on Aug 29, 2017 at 7:10pm PDT

“sleepovers”. “fell in love wholly and with all my body and being”. What does he mean by this?

Oh, and you might want to stop manspreading. That insolent display of misogyny is apt to get you in the doghouse for years.

Well that was an unpleasant foray into manlet-land. Final thought: In the context of the US’s multiracial gruel, white knighting by nonWhites should be viewed as a proxy attack on sturdy White men. In fact, every whine and cringing exegesis on the patriarchy should be viewed as an extended play wail of desperation and bitter envy by the degenerate freak mafia against their Golden God White Man tormentor.

Placing bets how long it’ll be before Mrs. Lesser Beta steps out to indulge her secret fantasy of a righteous jerkboy MAGAfucking by a member in good standing of the objectifying patriarchy.