elevator

[This is a private communication to other male Gynarchists. On no account do we recommend Women read these highly secret reflections, which will be of no interest.]

***

Recently i got into a lift, in a bit of a hurry to leave the building. It slowed down and stopped at floor three (i think i may have rolled my eyes at this point) and a group of young Women got in, rather slowly i thought. They were chatting and drinking coffee, and They pressed the button for the second floor. It would have been quicker to walk.

As there are definitely no Women reading this post, i think i can admit that i was briefly irritated. Not voluntarily of course, but still, enough to  notice, and to think, that’s odd. This is me we’re talking about after all — a man with a Gynarchy blog and three Female Supremacy novels to his name, getting mildly impatient at the behaviour of a group of Women. That is not OK, is it? (Answers are at the end)*.

So let’s unpick this a little. On the face of it, it makes no sense; presumably i ought to have been delighted to have been inconvenienced.

There is something here about attitude. i can’t quite put my finger on it, but i think it amounts to something like this: in order for an act to be Gynarchic, it has to be understood as such by both parties, and it must be mutual – that is, each side need to know that the other understands what is going on, and why.

So: if a Woman randomly pushes in front of you in some public place, according to the normal standards of behaviour it’s just rudeness. Of course, being who we are, you and i would silently accept it. But now imagine She does the same thing with a smirk and a glance, eyeball to eyeball, as if to say, “so what?” Then it becomes a fleeting Gynarchic act, a covert signal like a revolutionary whistling a snatch of the Internationale, and irritation flips into admiration. you know what i mean.

It never happens, of course. Women are generally well-mannered, and They cannot know that the man They choose to eyeball is a Gynarchist not an asshole with a temper, so who can blame Them.

ground floor

A Matriarchal society, though, would automatically convert every such act into a Gynarchic one. Any inconvenience, any struggle — because i am a man; because Women would have it so. That is why i think it would be good for us; we would become better people**.

In the meantime, we each have to wrestle with our own natural human reactions (impatience, irritation, the list goes on). we ought to root out and destroy these flaws so far as we can, but we have to be realistic. we are not magic, and are as subject to human failings as anyone. The important thing is that it must not stop us behaving properly.

Perhaps i should have taken the stairs.

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FOOTNOTES

* No, it’s not.

** i am certainly not one of those back-in-the-day types (or any sort of conservative), but there was a time when there was a Code, and the Code was focused on male service to Women at a level of detail that can come as a bit of a shock to contemporary readers. Young men were expected to spend hours committing the rules to memory – see the Chivalry and Gynarchy post.

because footnotes deserve illustrations too

i find it hard to imagine a Victorian gentleman being ill-tempered as he stands drenched in the rain, holding his umbrella over his Female companion, racking his brains as to whether he may acknowledge the man approaching him with a nod or a raising of the hat given that he hasn’t yet been introduced to his Wife (unless that was Her at Lady Bristow’s garden party? But of course She wasn’t married then; does that make a difference?) The reason i can’t imagine it is partly that he is too busy trying to remember what he is supposed to do, and partly because everybody can see that he is obeying the code. ie it’s one of those because-i-am-a-man situations.

Obey the Code! (When we’ve written it).