The Droidwhisperer

• Meet Lester, a 6 foot 310 lb integrated circuit designer who spends his free time in his mom’s basement writing misogynist rants about how fake geek girls are ruining the convention circuit. He’ll be inheriting the house that the basement is part of in the next ten years ladies, so you’d better snap him up quick!

• Then there’s Charles. At 5’6″, 230 lbs and balding at 26, he makes the ladies swoon. When this software sales rep isn’t working, he’s hanging out at Hooters hitting on the bartender with his buddies, or writing jokes about women and kitchens on message boards. He can be all yours, and pretty easily since he cries himself to sleep at night wondering why he’s so alone.

• Here we have Anthony, or Tony as his “friends” call him. A slouchy 5’11” & 200 pounds, he not only codes for a software giant, but also trolls news sites & popular left wing message boards with antisemitic, homophobic and misogynist screeds, which about three people find witty. Sorry girls, but he’s physically and emotionally unavailable, due to his deep seeded self loathing over his brutally self repressed homosexuality. At night you’ll find him masturbating, and frequently deleting his browser history!

• Let’s not forget Chuck! This 290lb IT tech spends his time at work belittling his female colleges for their perceived inability to use a computer, while he strategically finds ways to look down their shirts. He’s never known the love of a woman and has no real friends, because he never bothered to learn to talk to anyone in any way other than a dismissive, manipulative manner.

• Last but not least we have Jim! This pudgy ex-athlete found his professional calling compiling code for a video game company, but really shines in his belief that any woman who doesn’t look like they’re straight out of a Maxim isn’t worth his time. He’s not really that physically unappealing, but his inability to see women that don’t meet his insane and unrealistic standards as anything other than a waste of resources really make him a top class pig. How about it girls, do you think you have what it takes to turn Jim around?

So is this an exaggeration? Sure, but not by a lot. There are plenty of men out there uncomfortably close to these examples. I also won’t deny that this is a pretty mean little piece I’ve written here, and I also can’t claim that my meanness isn’t intentional.

As a man, and an ally to feminists, I am sick and fucking tired of shit like “The 10 hottest women in science” or “Maxim Hot 100” or what ever other stupid list these people keep coming up with. When you rate someone, anyone, based solely on their perceived “hot” physical appearance as compared to others in their field you damage and belittle everyone involved. The women on these lists are hurt by the objectification. The women not on the lists are hurt because their accomplishments are ignored based on them not conforming to an outdated and unrealistic assessment of their attractiveness. The general public is hurt by having these people’s accomplishments distorted. Then, last of all the writer and the publication are showing themselves to be misogynist assholes, which might actually be a public service for the rest of us because we now know to avoid these jerks and not take them seriously.

It’s a free country, and if people want to continue compiling and reading these ridiculous lists, they have that right. However, the rest of us have the right to call them on their bullshit and not play ball with their narrow minded view on how women are supposed look, act and feel.

I guess you can call this what I’m doing to help stop violence against women. It’s time for us to call hateful shit like this out for what it is: The belittlement of the accomplishments of a full half of our world’s population because they happen to be women. It’s bullshit, and if we’re going to call our selves a civilized society, we need to put these publications on notice and let them know that it is not fun, it is not cool, and it is not sexy. It is a subtle form of bigotry, and it needs to stop.