Introduction
If you were to ask an avid and informed fan of superhero comics about controversies surrounding the portrayal of women in the cape-and-mask genre, you might get answers having to do with the male gaze, or the number of female protagonists, or perhaps even whether or not comics need to do more to attract female readers. In every case though, the focus can potentially lead to the phenomenon known as “Women in Refrigerators.”
Coined in 1999 by comics writer Gail Simone (probably most famous for her work on Birds of Prey, a series starring a team of female superheroes), “Women in Refrigerators” refers to a tendency for female characters in superhero comics to be either killed, abused, raped, or depowered in what seems to frequently be a move to anger or inspire a male superhero into action, or to intensify the hatred between the hero and his nemesis. Named after the Green Lantern character Kyle Rayner depicted above (who not only literally finds one of his girlfriends in a fridge but has also lost a number of significant others in his career), WiR has been an on-going discussion among comic fans for the past 12 years. In spite of the age and scope of the topic though, the conversation has not really penetrated the realm of anime and manga.
Given arguments over things like moe and lolicon and how Japanese society treats women, what of “Women in Refrigerators in Manga?” Furthermore, whether they’re informed or ignorant, with the number of people who have spoken or written about WiR in the superhero comics community, what would happen if they all focused their attention more towards manga?
Casca from Berserk, a strong female character horribly traumatized by brutal rape
When initially thinking about the topic, a number of questions came to mind. Would they look at manga and find it to be more sexist than superhero comics? Is the lack of a similar phrase or concept in manga a potential problem for it and any movements towards improving manga? However, I soon realized that WiR and its surrounding discourse are very much shaped by the superhero genre itself; evidence of this includes the whole idea of being “depowered,” something which holds a lot more weight in a setting where super powers are the x-factor in the story.
Of course, comparing one genre to the entirety of manga makes things quite unfair, but even when you narrow it down to, say, shounen fighting and action series, or even a single magazine such as Shounen Jump, the setup of superhero comics has particularly unique consequences.
Conceptual Paradox in the Superhero Genre
The basic superhero (of which Superman is probably the most well-known example) is someone who is somehow stronger, faster, and overall better than the average human, and this allows them to right wrongs. Where the regular authorities falter, the superhero-as-vigilante can come in and thrash the bad guys and make the world a better place. These settings rely on an environment fairly close to our own, one grounded in a similar default reality so that we can compare the ideal of the superhero to the everyday, but it also makes for a world that can start to unravel if the concept is pushed too far.
Adding a superhero to an otherwise normal world can transform it entirely, and when you begin to really question the effects a particular superhero can have on his environment, you wind up with questions like “If Mr. Fantastic is so smart, why hasn’t he found a cure for cancer?” While there are comics which do explore in detail the influence superheroes can have on society (Watchmen, for instance), and the Mr. Fantastic question isn’t some magic contradiction that destroys the superhero genre, it does point to the idea that a typical superhero story has to set its boundaries if it doesn’t want such questions jumping out at its readers.
The idea of boundaries isn’t limited to superheroes, as just about any story which adds something “superhuman” while wishing to maintain a semblance of normalcy has to draw the line somewhere. The tricky thing with superhero comics, however, is that the manner in which they have developed over the years encourages readers to find those limits through the prominent usage of a shared universe. When a comic is just about Batman, you can see how he fights crime and strikes fear into the seedy underbelly of Gotham City. When you cross him over with Superman though, suddenly Batman is put in contrast with a near-omnipotent alien who can outclass him fifty different ways. The reason to join them together is not to just make Batman look bad but rather to afford both heroes sufficient respect, so it requires Batman to have something extra to make up for it.
Where once he could just be a clever and ingenious individual, Batman is now the smartest man on Earth, armed with the most complex contingency plans ever conceived by man, all to make him Superman’s equal. In manga terms, this would be the equivalent of putting Monkey D. Luffy and Son Goku in the same universe and having to find a way for Luffy to be as powerful and influential as the Dragon Ball protagonist, like saying that Luffy’s rubber body makes him more resistant to ki blasts or something. As Marvel and DC actively promote their shared universes, this type of comparison becomes almost inevitable, and when you’re comparing, then the superhero universe comes under at least a certain degree of scrutiny.
If you then add the on-going saga aspect that is “continuity” to that mix, then the world of the hero can be scrutinized not just in terms of space, but also time. Superhero comics encourage a long-term view of its characters, where the events build on top of each other to create a loose history. And given the longevity that some of these characters possess, an action 30 years ago can continue to be associated with that character. In a comic from 1981, Avengers character Hank Pym hit his wife Janet , and it became a recurring topic all the way up until she died a few years ago. If they were to just ignore it and have the two characters act like nothing had ever happened, then it would have been perhaps silently condoning spousal abuse. However, because they kept it, it wound up defining the characters in certain respects. Although one can argue that this enriched their characters, it also meant that once it was done, neither of them could return to what they were prior to it. And while things are re-written or counteracted on a somewhat regular basis in superhero comics, this shared universe setup means that just one bad decision by one creator can potentially define a character to the point that no amount of reboots or retcons can undo its influence.
One Woman, One Refrigerator, One Universe
Let’s go back to manga for a little bit and pick a title that most definitely has female characters that are WiR candidates: Fist of the North Star. Now I love this series and consider it among my all-time favorites, but its female characters range from essentially cheerleaders to useless. Going in the style of the original Women in Refrigerators post, I’m going to list them with a list of ways they’ve been “fridged.”
Yuria (above) abused, forced to become Shin’s lover, kills herself (not really), contracts a fatal illness from long-term radiation exposure
Mamiya turned into a sex slave, her lover Rei dies, stops fighting entirely
Lin almost forced to have Kaioh’s baby, brainwashed into falling in love with another man
And so on and so forth.
Women are kind of a non-factor in Fist of the North Star no matter what they say about love and no matter how many women nobly sacrifice themselves. But at the same time, the fact that Fist of the North Star ran in Shounen Jump doesn’t mean that its portrayal of women exists in the same environment as One Piece or Toriko or City Hunter. Misogyny can exist, and it can even exist in multiple titles from the same publisher in the same magazine to the extent that you could call the whole thing sexist, but there is less of a risk of the comics congealing into an entrenched, constantly self-reinforcing “super misogyny.”
With superhero comics and their long continuity and shared universes, it can be incredibly easy to permanently “poison the well.” In this environment, a single instance of a WiR does not stand alone in its own conceptual space, but ends up existing in a greater universe, and then stays there in the timeline potentially forever. While this is not inherently a bad thing, it means that more innocent and simplistic stories and concepts have a harder time maintaining that innocence. If someone said The Cat in the Hat and Schindler’s List occupied the same continuity, it would be very hard for Dr. Seuss’s characters to be quite the same when the idea of genocide hangs over them.
This can even apply to the degree to which women are sexualized in comics. Somewhat like how “Hollywood Ugly” requires you to believe that the attractive celebrity in baggy clothes and glasses is meant to be homely, if you take a title where the aesthetic portrayal of women is geared primarily towards the sexual gratification of men and put it in the same world as a comic where the attractiveness of women is depicted in a more neutral fashion, then there is bound to be a conceptual clash, especially if the two were to cross over directly. Either the overt “butt and breasts out” poses would have to be acknowledged directly with respect to how a woman would normally pose herself (accounting of course for stylistic flourish), or the more neutral design would have to be subsumed by the overtly erotic aesthetic. If respect is supposedly afforded to both portrayals, then there winds up being a compromise, much like Superman and Batman’s situation, that generates at least a certain degree of schizophrenia.
It can also be easy to poison the well of a shared universe because once that idea takes root in one corner of the world, it becomes easier for it to spread to other parts as well, and I think this is what ends up really shaping Women in Refrigerators in terms of the superhero genre. While I may be assuming things too much, I think it’s far easier to corrupt an innocent idea than it is to make a corrupted idea turn innocent, and so every time another woman gets killed or raped or depowered, it means less and less of a chance for that whole thing to be turned around entirely, which means the rate at which the universe becomes “darker” winds up being far faster than the rate at which it becomes “lighter,” unless deliberate steps are taken to work against it.
Given everything I’ve said about the danger of a shared universe, does this mean that any sort of shared universe will lead to similar problems? Not necessarily, but I think that regardless of which direction that universe goes, compromise is almost inevitable. When Neon Genesis Evangelion with its emphasis on psychological turmoil enters the crossover environment of the Super Robot Wars games, its story and characters end up less traumatized overall. When Lupin III meets Detective Conan, his role is more of a lovable scamp than a hardened thief. Even taking darker series and making them lighter to fit in another work is a form of compromise. However, neither of those bother to maintain their continuities for prolonged periods. Moreover, while a shared universe does not guarantee Women in Refrigerators, the way that superhero comics have turned out means that it is constantly poised to do so, and as far as I can tell, the discussion surrounding WiR is very much about a concerted effort to turn things around, to deal with what may very well be a case of inertia.
Towards Methods for Manga?
A quote from Gail Simone in 1999 clarifies one of the original purposes of Women in Refrigerators:
My simple point has always been: if you demolish most of the characters girls like, then girls won’t read comics. That’s it!
This is not as much of a problem for manga, even titles and magazines designed for boys, as many publishers in Japan have learned ways to court a female audience. Some titles in Shounen Jump are especially known for their sizable female readerships: Saint Seiya, Katekyou Hitman REBORN!, and The Prince of Tennis, to name a few. Granted, most of these titles have primarily male casts and so the portrayal of female characters is not the primary draw, but that is also getting into another more complex issue of gender-based character identification. I’ll leave this as something of an aside for the sake of not going too off-course, but will say that this might mean that it doesn’t take outstanding portrayals of women to attract a female audience, but at the very least ones that won’t make them feel uncomfortable to be women.
As it is, the “Women in Refrigerators” discourse is especially suited for the superhero genre. Its concerns and the manner in which it can quickly spread to other stories are at least partly predicated on the structure set out by decades of development. If WiR is to be applied to manga, or even a certain genre or magazine/publisher, then it likely needs to be modified to fit a very different history, both in terms of manga itself and the Japanese culture surrounding it. Personally, I’m not entirely sure what changes need to be made. It’s probably an endeavor that is too big for one post, but I can throw out some possible directions.
I think the killing, rape, and abuse aspects probably translate adequately as is, but to go back to the “depowered” aspect of WiR as something very particular to superheroes, perhaps it would be a good idea to find something that is not quite so specific. If we’re dealing with a genre like shounen action, your Dragon Ball‘s and Naruto‘s and such, then maybe it’s not so much a matter of depowering as it is being quickly outclassed or made irrelevant. A lot of characters in these works often get some kind of improvement to their abilities, but that is made obsolete by the fact that every other hero gets stronger at a quicker rate. While this is not exclusive to female characters, it may be something worth tracking among female characters to see how they’re made to be functionally useless.
If we’re looking more at sexually-charged (but not necessarily pornographic) titles, maybe it would be wise to keep an eye out for degradation or humiliation. For example, how often are characters made to do something or wear an outfit that not only embarrasses them, but sexualizes them in the process? What of humiliation as a sexual tool, even when it’s meant to be light-hearted prodding and not something more extreme like torture?
Maybe it would also be a good idea to take a look at one popular title and to note where the female characters are mistreated solely to advance the male characters’ stories. After that is done, the next step would be to look at works that may have come about as the result of its popularity, whether it was because there was a clear influence, there was a blatant attempt at riding the wave, it was the next title readers flocked to, or even if there was some kind of editorial mandate to feature more of those stories. Do some of those WiR-esque ideas and portrayals still exist? Are they getting weaker or stronger? This may be a way to track things across one magazine or one genre without having the shared universe of superhero comics.
Of course, this is all assumes that WiR is not an issue when the female readership has been established and sustained sufficiently, but what about the possibility that the phenomenon not only exists in shoujo and josei, but that such events might occur in greater numbers compared to manga geared towards male readers?
What I’ve provided in the ideas above would not comprise a complete framework, but then again neither did the original list of Women in Refrigerators. There is a distinct possibility that with each genre of manga, even if you were to narrow it to titles somehow similar to superhero comics, that it would require its own adjustments be they subtle or broad. It may even be the case that in the end, we find out that WiR cannot be applied to manga no matter how many modifications are made, but I think it would still be a worthwhile endeavor to figure that out in the first place. I’m sure we’d learn something along the way.
OGIUE MANIAX 
“What about the possibility that the phenomenon not only exists in shoujo and josei, but that such events might occur in greater numbers compared to manga geared towards male readers?”
That’s actually the area I’d like someone to look at the most, because being a guy in his 30s I consider my knowledge of shojo and josei to be tremendously deficient.
The phenomenon of having supporting characters befall unfortunate consequences for the sole purpose of motivating the main character to action is something of a given in storytelling, hence why they’re called “supporting” characters. I estimate that Wounded Man by Kazuo Koike and Ryoichi Ikegami averages something like one dead girlfriend in the arms of the main character as he vows revenge upon her murderers every 1.5 volumes. The theatrical adaptation of Shonen Jump’s Space Adventure Cobra had like three different ladies die so Cobra could feel bad for a bit before renewing his quest to stop the golden David Bowie skeleton.
But in the case of manga, the question of “won’t such content effectively prevent women from reading, as it implicitly sends the message that they aren’t that important for anything else?” is rendered well, almost entirely irrelevant by the fact that said sentiment is explicitly conveyed by the genre classification itself.
“Shonen.” “Seinen.”
They straight up say “comics for boys” and “comics for men” right up front on these things. Common sense would suggest that appealing to women would not really be their top priority in these titles; that Shonen Jump editors have figured out how to do precisely that through careful application of three simple words–“maybe they’re gay”–is an accomplishment. But it’s not really “the norm,” as one look at your typical edition of Weekly Shonen and (especially) Shonen Champion can attest.
Therefore, that a colossally disproportionate amount of main characters in such works are male while a significant portion of the put-upon supporting cast are female does not strike me as particularly out of the ordinary or even as something to be concerned about. (Any observation that a far greater amount of supporting male characters die/get hurt for the sake of motivating Kenshiro can be argued as irrelevant to the issue at hand for reasons such as the nature of the put-upon violence, etc.)
Of course, American comics can’t actually use any of that reasoning. Axel Alonso and Bob Harras can’t reply to charges of WiR-esque behavior with “yeah, well these are comics for boys and men centered around resolution of conflict through violence, so if ladies don’t like it they can go read comics written for them instead.” They can’t just come out and SAY that, even though statistically, American comics are even more “seinen” than well, much of “seinen manga.” That recent Nielsen study by DC showed that 93% of their readership was male and 98% were over 18. That should be all the evidence required, but nobody in America wants to admit they are making “men’s comics” even though they quite clearly ARE. To do so would ignite a wave of furor and bad PR, and that wouldn’t be looked upon as favorable by their massive media conglomerate owners.
So they spin responses for that 7% of female readers, and a lot of that 93% of male readers are ready to actually believe that spin. Thus perpetuates the ever-ongoing “we care, no really!” game of words that ignores that the American equivalents of “shojo” and “josei” not only exist RIGHT NOW, but do so in vast quantities and are thriving.
I’d love to see US comics just be up-front with its target audience classifications: for “12+” ratings to not actually end up having violence and bloodshed more graphic than the Hostel films and for comics with names like “Suicide Squad” or “Red Hood and the Outlaws” to be labeled as “men’s comics” and stocked in a section all its own. But it’ll never happen. That’d be seen as too patronizing. They would have to brand it differently. You know, like how the bookstore sections don’t say “books for teenage girls” but “young adult fantasy romance.”
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To extend on some stuff Daryl said:
While Japanese manga use overt marketing, it’s worth noting that it’s often the case that it doesn’t necessarily reflect the content of the series itself, but rather the overall focus / lean of the magazine it runs in. There are many “josei” and “seinen” works that you could switch between josei and seinen magazines and absolutely no one would blink their eye. Part of this is, of course, the fact that these works are often less escapist power fantasies, which tends in simple terms towards constructing proxies and “hero boosting”. So seinen and josei have the -potential- to be inherently more cross-marketable.
But that’s not to say that you don’t have the same thing occur with shounen, or indeed even shoujo. It’s well known that female readers actually make up a lot of Weekly Shounen Jump’s base in Japan, but it’s not a majority, and not their target audience: it’s an acknowledged ertiary audience. Even then, and this is the funny bit in my opinion, Japan’s tendency isn’t to include and enfranchise everyone, but attempt to construct a macrocosm of microcosms: to include small targeting factors aimed at specific audiences, completely scattershot. So shounen works will include some “fanservice for women” or some other slight material that appeals to them (retaining some characters popular predominantly with the female audience, for example) without stopping their overt sexism in other ways, or stopping the work from being predominantly male-orientated.
It’s a common concept in Japanese marketing: to target as many niches as possible, not construct a general-audience appeal work, because niche-appeals are more likely to be definite-buys by niche audiences than general-appeals will be by a general audience. In their minds, anyway, but supply and demand economics is a mystery to them so hey.
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“The phenomenon of having supporting characters befall unfortunate consequences for the sole purpose of motivating the main character to action is something of a given in storytelling, hence why they’re called “supporting” characters.”
Dude, seriously? A given in storytelling, across the board? Do you read, y’know, novels? Or anything other than superhero comics and shonen manga?
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“No. I do not read anything other than superhero comics and shonen manga. I am the 93%.”
Hypothetically speaking, what would your response be were that to have been my reply? Freeze that thought in your head; you don’t actually need to say. But whatever it is, I’d like you to evaluate the effectiveness of such a response given the known demographics breakdowns and purchasing habits for the genres in question. For while few will come right out and say the above sentence, it is not in actuality any sort of hypothetical at all. We are discussing genres of storytelling created for–and by–this audience primarily. What then, is the optimal way to communicate with this group? It is my belief that the effectiveness of the current discourse is rather limited as far as “winning over hearts and minds.” Were I mistaken on this, the discussion would not have remained cyclical for 13 years as it has.
To answer your question: no. I am NOT talking “across the board” at all. I am in fact making a reply to a topic that is very specific and very focused in its scope, such that it is not necessarily applicable once removed from its context. The intent of my statement is not to be an all-inclusive evaluation or definition, which appears to be how you’ve chosen to interpret it.
What I said about supporting characters is indeed a given. It’s just not the only given. It is however, the one relevant to what is being discussed.
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Well, you should use clearer language. Making unqualified, sweeping statements about “storytelling”, when what you mean is “superhero comics storytelling” or “shonen manga storytelling”, makes you sound like the typical ignorant fanboy who never reads anything outside of his preferred genre and is oblivious to the broader critical context which more erudite readers take into consideration.
Your statement about “relevance” is ridiculous. It implicitly precludes any proposition that superhero comics or shonen manga (or whatever genre might be in question here) could operate as a genuine work of literature, rather than a gimmicky piece of entertainment. Those of us who believe that literary standards can be applied to these genres of entertainment – that, in fact, some works in these genres have literary quality – have no use for this narrow, fanboyish viewpoint.
And if you don’t want to speak critically – only about readership demographics and marketing – then you shouldn’t bother to comment on matters of storytelling, since you have nothing to say about it.
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Just want to probe the WiR thing as translated to manga, maybe you can help answer these hypos. SPOILERS (light) I AM SORRY BUT:
Is Wakaba’s death in Cross Game a WiR?
Is Kanade’s death in Symphogear a WiR?
Is the typical Jun Maeda disease a case of WiR?
Is Menma a WiR?
Lastly:
Is the stereotypical Pineapple Salad scenario a … MiR?
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To start answering omo’s question, well, at least the first two … Wakaba and Kanade’s deaths do not fit the WiR mold. While both deaths have an impact on the other characters, in Wakaba’s case it wasn’t at the hands of a villain; it was just a tragic accident which happens very early in the series and which gets the action going. No one goes for revenge in Cross Game; Wakaba and her prediction become an inspiration to the other characters. Kanade in Symphogear (and I’m going on the anime. I don’t even know if there’s a manga version) doesn’t count either. She dies bravely, in battle. I’ve always felt a hint of victimhood in WiR. Kanade was no victim. Can’t talk about the others, really, though I suspect that Roy Fokker couldn’t be considered a MiR …
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Thank you for the reply. I guess based on your response I have one more question:
How does the presence and quantity of vindictiveness in the WiR act matter? I guess it’s one thing when the WiR is a victim of a premeditated act against a male cohort associated with the victim within the plot, but can we consider things like war and natural disasters as a “meta villain”? The way I see it, often times a WiR-like scenario happens in anime/manga narratives because of some basic genre-related rule. It’s usually to create a situation that reinforces some idea (like power to defend the weak, revenge is a forest, etc). The inherent sexism present in the idea alone may be all the sexism that is present in these cases of WiR (usually this comes out to notions of gender roles, etc.)
I mention Cross Game because I think Wakaba’s death is a very important motivation in the way the main characters act. In effect, her death is a way the characters are manipulated, especially in the context of Wakaba’s gender-specific development in light of Aoba’s tomboyish nature. Often times it feels like her death was there just to manipulate the characters’ emotions about themselves. In fact, deaths in anime and manga tend to trigger tropes about people thinking it’s their fault? It’s almost like a WiR type situation except the outpouring and reaction is tempered by the different cultural expectations.
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I think vindictiveness can definitely make it more of a case of WiR, though a manipulative death isn’t necessarily a WiR death. The issue that superhero comics have to deal with that Cross Game doesn’t exactly is that a lot of these characters have very long histories and legacies, and have maybe been to and back from the grave a few times. So imagine if Wakaba died and then she became a motivation for the other characters, then she came back and got hit by a truck, then she recovered and died again.
So when people talk about an issue in comics, like how female characters are treated or a lack of non-white heroes, and someone responds that they’re simply playing off of what was already established, the fact that the “established history” can be years or even decades long means that you’re not just dealing with a character who was abused once, but that it became a recurring topic without much thought as to what it would do to the image of the character overall.
Similarly, while Kyle Rayner’s girlfriend died only once, his history of having girlfriends who get fridged also shows the problem.
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Dumping some further thoughts.
Western heroes: get powers, then decide to do something, usually punch bad guys. When someone they care about is hurt/killed, then the gloves come off and they use full power.
No-one is safe from a villain, everyone is fair game, but team partners have fairly thick plot armour. Killing a hero’s beloved is a cheap way of creating drama. Because the characters are usually heterosexual males, their beloveds are usually female.
Eastern heroes: a sense of chivalry pervades it – as does the sexism that lies behind it. Shonen heroes almost always want to protect someone/something, then get powers. If their someone is hurt, they declare “I want to become stronger!” and train until they can defeat the villain.
A villain may kill a beloved teammate to rile up the main character, but it’s usually up close and personal and often because it’s the teammate’s fault for underestimating the villain. Any friends and family are either not even mentioned, or already missing or dead.
Female team members are either written out, out of focus, or left behind in power levels and then forgotten.
Right now, I can think of three female characters in a shonen manga who have both kept up with the main character for the entire run and given equal status, and two were in the same one:
Miu from Kenichi the Mightiest Disciple (except he goes above and beyond the call of duty when it comes to fanservice).
Elraine and Sui from the obscure-and-cancelled Double Arts.
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Good article. This is a rich topic, and I hope it inspires others to look into these issues further.
I really appreciate your analysis of the corrosive effect of a shared universe, where stories are forced to conform to the standards set by any other series they interact with. I think more attention should be paid to this in criticism of superhero comics, as it’s obvious that many stories cannot exist on their own terms because of the imposition of the publisher’s universal standards.
I would also agree that the treatment of women in manga is less characterized by outright abuse and violence, and more by social or hierarchical marginalization – the irrelevance/obsolescence that you refer to in shonen fighting series. Colin relates a common pattern in detail in his comment, but I think this has much wider consequences than the mere outclassing of female combatants by the male protagonists. The hierarchy of roles can be seen in almost any manga involving any type of competition or conflict, with women generally seen filling subservient roles, as prizes, or as someone who must be defended. This is by no means exclusive to manga, but it’s certainly pervasive within manga. The marginalization contrasts with the expression of the same sexism within superhero comics, in which heroes’ girlfriends are often entirely outside of the primary conflict until something terrible happens to them, and in which some female heroes may participate as equals until they’re “depowered” or otherwise torn down.
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The fuck is this shit? someone butthurt?
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@omo
I won’t say that MiR CAN’T happen, but there are more factors to WiR than just the plot device of killing a character to motivate another. How they are killed and how it affects their characterization matters as well as the entire gender politics of it.
If we use the example of Roy, or mentor characters dying, for one thing I’d say that mentor characters die as heroes not as victims. Where women repeatedly become victims who should have been protected, even if they were fighters/etc. in the series. Also the deaths of mentor characters usual motivate other males and not women. This is all generally speaking of course.
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When Feminist accuse the writers of this trope do they believe all males are misogynistic subjugaters? Because after all you can’t support your collective without hating and blaming the entire collective responsible for the subjugation of yours right?The answer is yes because all feminist believe all males are bad writers and subjugate and sexually abuse all women they encounter and are in favour of this trope even if they are fighting against it.
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The feminist are out to get us no matter what we do because they all believe we are in favor of tropes like this.
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Instead of simply deleting my comments I would prefer If someone would answer my question and that is do all feminist believe all males are in favour of this trope or not.
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Instead of simply deleting my comments I would prefer If someone would answer my question and that is do all of you believe all males are in favour of this trope or not.
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I believe the “equality” of feminism is just as strong as the “equality” of communism. They are both an exact replica of what they oppose and turn a blind eye to hate crimes and either deny or praise them. I’m not saying I’m in favour of this trope at all I’m just saying we don’t need to be misogynistic to be called misogynistic its enough for them to hate us if we happen to be born male.
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Do you have any more delusions to share, GiladOman?
Just kidding, nobody cares.
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I’m not deluded I’m a male writer and there fore I am violent and oppressive against women.
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