The Pump And Dump Feminist
Reina Gattuso (@reinagattuso on Twitter) is a Harvard-educated feminist and a compelling argument for why men should be warned to avoid Harvard-educated feminists. If it were up to me, heterosexuality would be strictly prohibited at Harvard University for the very reason that no man should ever have sex with the kind of women who attend Harvard University, of whom Reina Gattuso is a typical example.
Actually, Ms. Gattuso is a typical example of many things, none of them good. She is an extraordinarily bad human being, which is why she was chosen as a student speaker at Harvard’s 2015 Class Day:
Reina has spent the past four years studying Comparative Literature and Studies of Women, Gender, and Sexuality; co-founding a feminist magazine, Manifesta; reading poetry at The Harvard Advocate; and writing for The Crimson, where she co-founded an inclusivity and diversity working group. . . . She is looking forward to spending next year on a Fulbright-Nehru Student fellowship in Delhi, India. But first, Reina is looking forward to outing herself to her grandmother on Class Day.
Yes, American parents, this is why you should send your daughter Harvard (annual tuition $45,278), so that she can celebrate her graduation by “outing herself to her grandmother.” Just in case anyone missed her baccalaureate coming-out speech, however, Ms. Gattuso wrotea column for the Washington Post in which she mentioned that she “has publicly admitted to making out with half the lesbian, queer, bisexual, bicurious and questioning women at Harvard.”
That column, in which she describes herself as “selfish” and “reckless,” was published with the headline, “Why monogamy’s not for me,” which is a rather transparent sour-grapes rationalization. Has anyone ever sought a monogamous relationship with Ms. Gattuso? Of course not. To borrow a line from an old Steppenwolf song, she is evil, wicked, mean and nasty.
No decent person would seek an intimate association with Reina Gatttuso, certainly not on a permanent basis. The Ivy League is decadent and depraved, but she is a very bad person even by Harvard’s abysmally low standards.
Among the notorious graduates of Harvard, she is perhaps not as bad as Ted Kaczynski (Class of 1962), but the Unabomber wrote only one manifesto, whereas Ms. Gattuso issues her demands sequentially and in installments as a columnist for Feministing, where she delivers such empowering messages as “Romantic Love Is a Patriarchal Conspiracy,” “My Vagina Is Tired of Compromise” and, best of all,“Sexual Objectification Is an Evil Male Plot for World Domination,” which includes this astonishing sentence:
I literally cannot talk to other women about how upsetting I find being street harassed without part of me feeling a little smug about it.
This is an astonishing sentence, I say, because it is difficult to imagine that Harvard University would award a diploma in literature to someone who would write such a sentence. As much as I enjoy mocking the Ivy League —meritocracy, my ass — is it too much to expect a Harvard graduate to avoid this ignorant juvenile habit of haphazardly dropping “literally” into sentences as an intensifier? At least Ms. Gattuso did not commit the common error of using “literally” when she meant “figuratively,” but if we ask what function “literally” serves in that sentence, the answer is, none whatsoever.
Would you say that I am being pedantic? Nitpicky and hypercritical? Yes, and deliberately so, because I do not like Reina Gattuso, and one way people communicate hostility is through this kind of fault-finding attitude, where everything the other person does is subjected to mocking criticism and ridicule.
This is how feminists treat men, habitually, yet they will start shrieking in panicked victim mode — “Harassment!” “Abuse!” “Misogyny!” — if any man dares call them out on it.
Feminists are simply women who do not like men. They have converted their anti-male hostility into a simulacrum of a political ideology, and expect the rest of us to take their rants and screeds seriously. In the feminist’s mind, she is in the position of a tenured professor and we are all a bunch of clueless kids who have signed up for her Gender Studies class. She is an expert, and we are in need of her enlightenment. The subject of today’s lecture is the same as yesterday and the day before: “Men Are Bad and Stupid, and You Should Hate Them.”
It really is as simple as that. The feminist is a grievance collector, who spends her life cataloguing the wrongs and evils for which men are responsible — that is to say, everything — and encouraging other women to do the same. This endless repetition of gripes and complaints about men is occasionally interrupted by endorsement of some other trendy progressive cause (global warming) as well as predictable electioneering efforts on behalf of left-wing candidates.
For example, whenever CNN goes off one of its periodic white-cop-shoots-black-teenager binges, feminist bloggers will reinvent themselves as experts on racial injustice and after the storm of made-for-TV protests blows over, feminist bloggers go back to ranting about abortion rights and “rape culture.” Their interest in politics is similarly episodic, following whatever is in vogue among progressives. When Bush was president, feminists pretended to be experts on terrorism and foreign policy, but once Obama was elected, feminists suddenly became experts in health-care policy. Currently, feminists seem intent on convincing the world that Donald Trump is the Worst Racist Sexist Homophobe in the History of the World, Ever. However, if Trump should lose the Republican nomination — to Cruz or Rubio or whoever — then feminists will discover that, contrary to their earlier judgment, the GOP candidate who beats Trump is actually the Real Worst Racist Sexist Homophobe in the History of the World, Ever. But I digress . . .
In addition to “making out with half the lesbian, queer, bisexual, bicurious and questioning women at Harvard,” Reina Gattuso also occasionally decides to subject herself to the patriarchal oppression of heterosexual intercourse, and she has written an 1,800-word column explaining how and why she generally despises the men she has sex with:
Alas, friend of mine, you have had an orgasm and are falling asleep. I have not had an orgasm and am not falling asleep, which means I am awake, which means I am now going to lecture you about feminism.
Who are you? (Big questions.) You are anyman, everyman, you are one of any number of lucky bastards with whom I have happened to roll into bed because baby, it’s been a few months and none of the cute activists are texting me back. Or maybe you are a cute activist who texted me back — in which case listen up, buddy, because this one’s for you, too.
Who are you? You’re a decent guy. You’re solid. I do not feel like you are going to rape me. (Yay! Let’s throw a party!)
No, you’re not a bad guy. The sex wasn’t particularly bad, either. And I know bad sex. I know sex that tastes like coercion and I know sex that tastes like endings and I know sex that tastes like hand sanitizer, which is a bad thing to put on your hands before you finger someone.
No, friend, it was not bad sex. It was normal sex. Normal, boring, vaguely dehumanizing hetero sex.
Which is precisely the point: The normalcy.
Believe me: I enjoy having someone mortar-and-pestle me for a few minutes as much as the next ornery bisexual. But friend, I feel that you can do better. . . . .
Here I will interrupt to explain that I can find no independent corroboration that Reina Gattuso has ever had sex with a man. Or a woman, for that matter. Of course, I can understand why anyone would be reluctant to admit that they had sex with a Harvard feminist, but that’s not my point. What I’m saying is I was unable to find a column anywhere with a headline like, “I Banged Reina Gattuso,” so that what she says about having sex with men (or women, or transsexuals, or whatever) is unverified. She claims to have had sex with men, but no men have stepped forward testifying to the truth of her claim. With that stipulation in mind, please continue, Ms. Gattuso:
Because there was something in the choreography of the whole thing that just struck me as, I don’t know — unsatisfying in a way only feminism can remedy.
Yup, I’m talking about the orgasm deficit. . . .
Sex is now over. Sex is now over because you have decided it is over. You have decided sex is over because you are a man, and because this choreography that favors men with penises — man becomes erect, man penetrates woman, man ejaculates — is what we have been told sex is.
Because we’re brainwashed.
Ever heard of a thing called patriarchy? . . .
Your boyfriend is a loser and, therefore, patriarchy.
How many times do we have to read variations of this same tired theme? Anything and everything that any feminist decides to complain about is always blamed on “male supremacy.” Everybody has been brainwashed by the patriarchy, we are expected to believe, and therefore we need feminists to tell us The Hidden Truth of the Oppressive Conspiracy that, in this example, has cheated Ms. Gattuso out of her orgasm. But the Oppressive Conspiracy of male supremacy is so vastly powerful that it can explain whatever irritates or annoys a feminist. The patriarchy is the Swiss Army Knife of feminism, an all-purpose tool of theory and analysis. After several paragraphs of ranting about the patriarchy, Ms. Gattuso finally reaches the, uh, climax of her argument:
We f–k until you come, I do not come, you do not ask if I would like to come or if you can help make me come, and then we’re done f–king, because you have decided we are done f–king, and everyone is supposedly happy.
OK, enough. Anyone who wants to subject themselves to the rest of Raina Gattuso’s lecture can go read the whole thing, but let me suggest that if she is accurately describing an actual experience, she may have misunderstood it.
“Pump and dump” — this is a phrase that the pick-up artist (PUA) community uses to describe a situation in which a guy decides to make a move on a woman who interests him only in terms of a one-time opportunity for sex. This kind of play is also known as “hit-it-and-quit-it,” and may be part of a PUA’s general strategy of running up his number just for the sake of the game. It’s Tuesday night at the local sports bar, not a lot of action available, and here’s this woman who’s giving him green-light signals. She is not the kind of woman he would consider for anything like a actual relationship, but (a) she is clearly signaling her interest and (b) it’s Tuesday.
What the heck, why not? Run up the score. “Pump and dump.”
That’s how the PUA sees it, but — plot twist — he doesn’t want the woman to realize how low she rates in his estimation. The game is about psychology, and the shrewd PUA realizes that the woman flashing him the green light is probably hoping for more than just a one-night stand. In all likelihood, she has in mind some kind of audition, where if everything goes well, he will want to develop a relationship. In that kind of situation, you see, there isn’t much incentive for the PUA to make any extra effort, to be sensitive and considerate. He doesn’t love her. He doesn’t respect her. He has no reason to do anything more than the necessary minimum: “Pump and dump.”
Now, the key to the PUA’s success is this: She never realizes it’s a game. If a player is really skilled, his targets don’t even suspect he’s a pick-up artist. Everybody thinks of PUAs in terms of the bar scene, but a master of the game could be just any guy anywhere. Nobody suspected Asheville, N.C., coffee shop owner Jared Rutledge of being a PUA master during the months he was running up his number:
In 2013, he hooked up with 15 different women, and in 2014, he achieved 22 “scores” (a new woman every 16 days, on average).
Alas, the damned fool decided to brag about his conquests on an “anonymous” blog, and thereby destroyed himself. What was interesting was that some of Rutledge’s targets insisted angrily that they had real relationships with him that weren’t “just about sex,” so that even after they were told they had been played, they still didn’t fully realize the nature of his game. Even though all decent people must deplore Rutledge’s unethical behavior, his remarkable success demonstrates how easily women can be deceived by a skilled player.
And this is what Raina Gattuso doesn’t understand about the men who play her as a “pump-and-dump.” Whether or not any of them would describe themselves as PUAs, they are treating her the way we might expect a player to treat a woman he regards as a “low-value target.” She directs her feminist “orgasm deficit” rant toward “any number of lucky bastards with whom I have happened to roll into bed,” evidently with no thought of how these “lucky bastards” viewed their encounters with her. Does she think they were all incompetent and clueless? Or was it the case, as we might more readily imagine, that these guys didn’t feel the need to waste any extra effort on a casual “hit-it-and-quit-it” score?
An alternate theory is that Raina Gattuso has a (not uncommon) combination of bad judgment and bad attitude. Such women exude a general hostility toward men, a chip-on-the-shoulder attitude that is a sort of pre-emptive defense against unwanted attention. In their minds, they are signaling how “strong” they are, but others just perceive them as rude and bitchy. (Males commit similar errors as, for example, the guy postures as cool and aloof but is perceived by others as merely sullen and hostile.) A woman who tries to strike the “strong woman” pose will, quite predictably, be avoided by most men. What this type of woman will typically do, however, is to aggressively pursue men who strike her fancy, and this is where her bad judgment comes into play, in that she invariably chooses bad men or, at least, men who are wrong for her.
Recall that Ms. Gattuso described herself as “selfish” and “reckless,”which is to say that she is impulsive and irresponsible and makes bad decisions. She has apparently never been in any enduring or stable relationship with any of her lovers, male or female, and what else would we expect? When a young woman makes this kind of attitude and behavior her habit, it is unlikely she will ever change, especially when she has made this the basis of her political identity. Ms. Gattuso has gone out of her way to publicize herself as a promiscuous bisexual feminist — “outing herself to her grandmother” as a graduation stunt at Harvard — and perhaps you can imagine her repudiating her self-created identity, but I can’t. She is utterly doomed to become a crazy cat lady.
From The Other McCain (January 22, 2016)