We're all in this together.

I mentioned in my opening post that I technically found the red pill in 2003, when I discovered Angry Harry via a link left on a forum I visited. It was strange having my head turned around by reading all he had to offer, and from there I gravitated to Stand Your Ground and Men's News Daily. I suppose I've naturally been more resistant to the brainwashing than some, partly because, as I mentioned before, we skipped one step ahead here.

But it all seemed so far away, inasmuch as the suffering of hungry third-world people are to most first-world people. The effects of misandry were shocking, yes, were horrible, but they all seemed so distant, like a balloon amidst the clouds. Surely nothing could go wrong in this sensible society where people had their heads screwed on right and meritocracy was the watchword of the entire city-state. Surely because of Singapore's much-touted meritocratic system and supposed opportunities for advancement for anyone who worked their butt off in school, regardless of sex, race, creed, religion or whatnot, we were all sensible people in a fair-minded society, shielded from the madness of the anglosphere.

When I was seventeen (2004), my General Paper teacher showed the class a video of a Saudi Arabian woman being stoned for adultery, and proclaimed that this was a horrific offense against women.

I pointed out that the Saudis also stone men for adultery, and that the other horrific acts depicted in the video could just as easily be portrayed as elites vs. commoners as opposed to men vs. women. She sent me a withering look and told me in a not-so-subtle way that I was wrong and a bad person for questioning the given material in a class that was supposed to be about critical thinking.

 Being the easily intimidated schlup I was (and I still struggle with it), I backed down and shut up. In hindsight, all that I learned in General Paper class was not the claimed critical thinking skills or be original in the essays I was asked to write, but instead how to swallow and regurgitate "opposing viewpoints", much like how the Singaporean education system is criticised for doing, but that's another topic for another time.

Daily life continued over the next few years. Slowly, I drifted away from my original interest in men's rights, partly because of the apparent distance, partly because of the fact that nothing seemed to be happening back at the time, and partly because of real-world matters I had to deal with. Being conscripted tends to put a bit of a damper on anything else with regards to your hobbies and social life, after all. I went into university (chemical engineering, with a specialisation in pharmaceuticals! NOT a worthless degree, huzzah! I get to produce STUFF! Unfortunately, need to work away at other courses outside the major for "holistic education". Pah!) worked away for a couple of years, signed up for a business minor.

And then I got my wake-up call.

So early last semester, one of my professors asks if everyone would like to have a private chat in his office, just to break the ice. Apparently, he does this for every class of this course he teaches, and it's a small class each year, so he can afford to do that with his time.

So I went into his office, sat across from his desk, and made small talk for the better part of ten minutes. Somewhere in the middle of the conversation, I asked about his family.

"They're fine," was all he said.

I ought to have dropped it. I should've dropped it. But there was something in his declination, in the shift of his face, that didn't quite sit right in the back of my lizard brain and I pressed -

-And surprisingly, he broke and it all spilled out.

He'd been divorced a while. Caught his wife cheating, filed for divorce, and stepped into a legal quagmire that he had no idea existed.

He pays $3000 (a bachelor's degree-holder could expect to earn $2000-2500 in a starting position, for reference) a month in maintenance to his ex-wife, even though his wife earned about the same as he did. Assets? Mostly divvyed up to her. He can pay, but if he couldn't - well, it's no different from the US here, off to jail with him.

Every now and then his ex-wife would send him taunting emails showing her with her westerner boyfriend and needle into him the fact that he's paying for her boyfriend's upkeep.

He hadn't seen his two daughters in five years.

He was crying by the time he'd finished. I didn't know what to say. My professor pulled out a tissue from the box on his desk and dismissed me with a tiny nod. I left.

It was impossible, right? Our courts were supposed to be fair, we were supposed to be sensible and meritocratic. Then I looked into the laws, and found they were anything but. The US has a fucking better time of it than us - at least a tiny fraction of women actually pay alimony to their husbands there, as opposed to none here.

I went back, opened up the internet, and did a bit of fact-checking. I've spent considerably more time on men's rights and the manosphere since.

The Women's Charter is so stupidly lopsided that even the local feminists claimed it was outdated and needed to be revised (although I doubt they'd revise it to anywhere in favour of men getting a better deal, things here being what they are). After reading through the law, it was easy for me to draw the conclusion that there was no way in hell I am getting married in Singapore. I'm not going to be put through the cleaners that easily, oh no.

Filters? I have some doubt as to how developed my filters are to filter out fakery. Remnants still cling from my blue-pill days and while I keep on cleaning house by swallowing more red pill and reading up on game, I still doubt in my ability to truly be able to filter out a suitable woman who won't throw me into the meat grinder once she's not haaaaaaaappy or a novelty of a westerner guy shows up. (That's where all the manosphere comments about "go to South-East Asia" come from, I guess. They aren't that much sweeter than western women IMO, you guys are just coming here to be novelty toys and they put on a show for you because you give them 'gina tingles.) Each time I go through things like M3's incel post, though, I feel a little part of me die inside. Maybe it's my nice guy dying; maybe I'll one day be like my natural alpha thug brother.

My mother is thinking of buying a house in her homeland up north for retirement; she says land is cheap there. I may consider it.

What I'm getting at here is:

We're all in this together.

You can't escape by going to Eastern Europe, Asia or somewhere else. Sooner or later, the beast will catch up with you. Governments do see the value of misandric policies as tools of social change and control and may decide to take them up of their own accord. This is a fight men and women everywhere need to take up.

Everyone is important. I've read up on the PUA/MGTOW/MRA tiff, and buy into elements of all three heads of the hydra. I'm not going to expect everyone to agree with each other in some kind of hive mind, but thanks to the very definition of this beast, anyone who isn't feeding it is hacking away at it. PUAs feed the beast until it chokes on its own gluttony. MGTOWs pick up where PUAs leave off and starve the beast of the finances and post-30 love it so desires. MRAs pick up sword and shield and fight the beast head on.

Eventually, either we win, the misandry bubble pops on its own, or the beast ages and dies thanks to inevitable economic, social and demographic implosion.

Thing is, I want to live to see it happen. I want to see the current global shithole collapse. Oh, it'll be pretty shitty, which is why I'm doing my best to learn to take care of myself on as little as possible. It would be even better if the dust settles in time for me to have any hope of living out my dream.

We're all in this together.