THE FULL MANIFESTO

The man in the manosphere subreddit at 3am. He's memorized every statistic about divorce, female psychology, and hypergamy. He knows all the terminology. He can cite every study. And he's never been more alone.

The woman on feminist Twitter. She's got the language down—toxic masculinity, emotional labor, the patriarchy. She knows exactly who to blame. And she's never been more miserable.

Both are drowning. Both gave the ocean a different name.

The redpill community tells men that understanding women will set them free. But understanding has only made them bitter. They can predict behavior they can't change. They have knowledge that brings no peace.

The feminist community tells women that naming oppression will liberate them. But naming has only made them exhausted. They can identify every microaggression. They're still unhappy.

Neither ideology delivered on its promise.

Hatred as a culture. The culture of hatred is individualistic—because it is anti-humanity, pro-human.

What does this mean?

It means: I hate the species but love myself. I hate the collective but worship my own existence. I'm against humanity while being pathologically attached to my own human experience.

The hater has no solidarity. No sense of shared struggle. No recognition that the same suffering that afflicts him afflicts everyone. He sees only his pain, only his grievance, only his right to rage.

This is the eternal fetus. The vampire.

The eternal fetus eating the blood of fellow people.

Never born. Never dying. Just consuming. The vampire exists in a state of permanent dependency disguised as predation. He takes because he cannot create. He feeds because he cannot nourish himself.

The night of the vampire is his lack of sense—in that he doesn't use the night's shelter, the shadow of grace, to do good. But rather: to stay behind in the shelter until he can strike again.

All beings are endowed with this laziness. The laziness hides—like in wealthy people—the loss of occasions.

Why are some men vowed to existential doom, experiencing poverty and loss on an exponential level?

Their lives, without doubt, have to do with the world. Never with themselves.

It's like giving $1000 to someone in the streets without a plan for that money. It's an incoherent investment into that culture.

"I loved this woman and offered her all. I am a victim of her beauty. I would have done all things for her. But she didn't accept me."

This is the wound that never heals. The offering that was refused. The love that was not returned.

"She went for that faggot," he exclaims. Refusing a woman's choice—for himself, a grave.

All this man's life, that bitch lives rent-free in his mind. Not only did he give all he had physically, but also mentally. And more.

A testament to his love? No. A mockery. The drawing of a one-year-old baby. The spirit of hatred.

These men, having no soul left—in the future, naked.

Hateful of these "worthless" women, they claim them countless bad words. "Bitch, in the future when you're crying and alone at 50—where did all the good men go?—I'll be laughing with 1000 young hoes."

Truth be told: neither will he have the 1000 hoes. Nor anything. Nor even one.

He has given all already—to that woman he hates. Not seeing his chance in the world as something to tribute to God.

How can children—women—feel ugly? Their fathers are a joke.

The daughter is a mirror. She reflects what she was shown. If she was shown nothing—or worse, shown wreckage—she reflects nothing. Or wreckage.

The man is himself a mirror of the Christ.

Whether you believe literally or metaphorically, the principle holds: Man is meant to reflect something higher. To catch the light and cast it into the world.

If the man cannot clean his mirror, no light falls upon the world.

A dirty mirror reflects nothing. Or worse—it distorts. Instead of light, it shows smudges. Instead of truth, it shows confusion.

We need you, men, to guide the world. To give life to your intelligent action—which is seed sowing and giving.

All animals of the world rejoice when a human being has made a fortune in vegetables.

For the human being is generous and intelligent at the same time.

A thousand monkeys rejoice when the banana guy comes by. You never see that happen in monkey history. Generosity on that level and kind.

Fear struck at lack. Ever aggressive to preserve status.

"I must be obeyed and worshipped. For if we are to lack, you must all lose your lives. You must all learn to appreciate that you live thanks to me."

In this way the worthless man preaches to the world.

Self-recognition is the cure.

You must see yourself clearly—not the story your ideology tells, not the image you project online, not the victim narrative or the hero narrative—but the raw truth of who you are when nobody's watching.

Self-recognition is like a flash of lightning in the darkness.

For one second, everything around you is illuminated. You see it all— the landscape, the obstacles, the path, the drop-off you almost walked into.

Then it goes back to darkness.

But now you know.