WARCHILD
Big boys don’t cry. Unraveling the tragic tale of toxic masculinity.
WARCHILD
Big boys don’t cry. Unraveling the tragic tale of toxic masculinity.
Watch clip/video WARCHILD - below/bottom
‘Don’t you cry OR ELSE, I’ll give you something to CRY about’!
Welcome back to this musky instalment of the sermon. Before we start,
I’d like us all to bow our heads and prey, I mean pray ...
The eyes of the Lord are on the righteous. His ears are attentive to their cry.
Ask, and it will be given to you; knock and it will be opened to you.
If you then know how to give good gifts to your children,
how much more will your Father who is in heaven, give what is good to those
who ask Him. Matthew 7:7
Praise be.
All the Rage:
Crucifixion Confession Conscription. Compulsory Enlistment:
Life is difficult.
We live in perilous times. Hidden landmines. Hair-trigger callsigns.
Restitution is all the ‘rage’ these days. I learned that at an early age.
You see, that thing that you took, belonged to ME and now I want it BACK!
Making America Great Again is essentially a combination of contrition & ambition.
All the elements were already in play. One need only apply the necessary measures.
Physical pain is legit, not this namby pamby feeling sad/sorry crap that girls feel.
Most wee boys growing up in the 60s heard the pretentious platitudes over and over.
‘Hell, when I was your age, I strangled chickens with my bare hands’ ... ‘DEAL w/it’.
‘I was beaten with a strap by my Dad until I learned to like it’. Tough love. Yawn.
Implying that well, I need all that too. Submit to Father’s wrath and be saved.
Shit like that. Right. Well maybe you didn’t get that memo ... lucky bastard.
You see, making it ‘great again’ means learning the REAL value of punishment,
just like Dad got in the war and will now pass on to you, if yer lucky. Praise be.
Patriotism is learning to be ‘proud’ of pain. Owning it. Embracing humiliation. PROUD BOYS. Yay! Not this ‘pussy pain’. Shit like that. - no pain no gain. ‘Grow up’!
This infestation of compassion & humility must be eradicated. Erased. It’s weak!
‘Making it’ great again implies forcing it. A necessary inconvenience.
The Cubicle:
So ya. I grew up in Canada in the 60s. Felt war more than lived it. Quiet.
My Dad was IN it but not really. Didn’t fight. Telegraph Operator so needed at home.
Delegated to the sidelines - wanting to be on the frontlines (or so he said).
Getting the uniform and all the perks of a military life before meeting Mom.
Who loved a man in uniform. 1954.
He loved pretending. Apparently he was a ‘drill sergeant’ who kicked ass.
A real man. I was reminded ad nauseam, at least twice a week growing up.
Right. Ok - I’m like 6? I’m a kid. What’s your point? Thinking (never saying it).
Right. I’m supposed to be just like you. Check. Noted. Discipline. Gotcha.
The pretension, posturing, the grandstanding, the reprimanding, the gaslighting.
Prerequisites.
I often wonder what it would have been like, to grow up as a girl,
in a world where there were no boys or men. No sex. No misogyny. No games.
No domination. No submission. No learning our place. No expectation.
How we girls would have fared without them. Better? Na. Guys rule fool. Tool.
Just STFU and pay attention. It’s what I remember most. The intimidation.
The call to arms requires an ability to withstand tireless torment and torture.
Not just by your enemy but by your own brothers. A harrowing initiation prepares.
Righteous entitlement is everywhere. Even more-so now. Boys imitating men.
Little men ruling the roost. Pretending to be big men. Omnipotent soldiers.
Little things dangling from them. Important things like weapons, medals and shit.
Trophy wives, Nobel Peace Prizes and golden shower ballrooms ... and money.
Lots & lots & lots of money. It’s all in the appearance. How I was raised.
Moms care. Dads scare:
The shame. Blame being a robust second place winner spinner. Necessary.
Letting it control me. Willingly letting him in, again. Almost pleasurable this time.
‘STFU and grow a pair. I’ve seen real pain son and you’re gonna feel it too’. Yes!
Loyalty means everything. Once you’re in? You’re IN ... there’s no turning back.
‘You see ... we need to teach them sons a bitches a lesson son.
What sacrifice really means’.
Full Metal Jacket. Father Knows Best. Hogan’s Heroes. The Rat Patrol ... right??
Desert rodents that KILL because we’re trained to. Big deals them Navy Seals.
Later integrated into our daily lives. Into our employment; friendships, our marriages.
Our politics, parenting and our entertainment. Glory be. Operational. Generational.
Centuries of boisterous boy-like behaviour conditionally condoned. Cradled.
Out of control crime? Let’s just jail our political opponents and remove the slime.
‘You snooze, you lose’.
Oh and thank you for your support. Your vote matters. Bless you friend.
Epilogue: Our Father ...
We all miss Dad. He was just like his Dad, who was like his Dad. We boys inherited it.
Girls too only indirectly. Damaged girls are often damaged because of their Dads.
Marrying boys who remind them of him. Same history, same tepid trajectory.
A familiar comfort. Sure, Daddy got drunk a lot and smacked Mom around,
but we still love him.
Ya well? What did you expect? What did you think was going to happen?
If you hadn’t been asleep at the wheel, you would have seen it coming. Idiot.
Permission to punish sir. It’s important. Permission granted son. Godspeed. Over.
Alpha Charlie Delta Tango Zulu 009er. Your purge is granted. Kick some ass son!
You see - the mission must be merciless.
It must be in order for us to win. Survive. Thrive.
We need to inflict in conflict; as much pain as humanly possible to GET
What we want, what we need ... what we frikkin’ DESERVE. Praise be.
They GO. We STAY.
Amen.
for Virginia
WARCHILDvisit my website - link below …
jimlamarche.ca
.
blog posts in BLOGSPOT …
http://www.jimlamarche.ca/blog/
.
JIM LAMARCHE: ABOUT …
http://www.jimlamarche.ca/about/
