Mailvox: the virtual octagon

RJ worries needlessly:

I just read your latest article. It was brutal but quite accurate. I now think you would be wise to start wearing a bulletproof vest.

I do object to your implied cut on Michelle Malkin. I think your previous criticisms of her latest book defending internment were completely valid. However she also wrote “Invasion” so I think you were being too hard on her. (Granted I can identify to some extent with your frustration for her refusal to debate you regarding her internment book.)

There’s nothing wrong with INVASION, except that like Ben Shapiro’s BRAINWASHED, it’s barely one step above the “oxygen is good” category. Statements of the obvious may sell well – books that devote hundreds of pages to breaking the news that men don’t like to marry self-serving feminist bitches sell very well – but they’re not what I consider to be serious. I didn’t consider MEDIA WHORES to be serious either, just so you know, whereas the book I’ve been writing on my theory of socialist crisis certainly is. IN DEFENSE OF INTERNMENT was an attempt to be serious, but its flawed premise combined with the author’s rampant historical inaccuracies and inability to master basic subtraction reduced it to parody.

However, there’s no need for a bulletproof vest. Women are afraid to debate me in public, in fact, most are unwilling to even dare an email discussion after being on the receiving end of a first volley. The vast majority of those who wish to disagree with what I’m saying today are too fearful of drawing attention to themselves to do anything more than mutter quietly among themselves, because they know perfectly well how true it is. What men don’t realize is that women are all offense and no defense. They’re so used to men caving after the first exchange of hostilities that they have no courage or stamina to stand up to a merciless frontal assault. Tears are their last resort and when even those won’t suffice, they’ve got nothing left except to fume in helpless, angry silence.

As for the inevitable name-calling, so what? In four years of column-writing, I’ve yet to hear anything more cutting or creative than I hear from my friends. If any inflamed abortionette manages to pull her head out of her scarred uterus long enough to come up with a decent insult, I’ll be delighted to share it with everyone here.