Groomers Spoiling My Class and Feminism Writing Mission

Muttley still doesn’t get it. The clearer I try and make it, the more muddled he seems. The more I try and clarify that it’s about supporting women, the more he puts it down to competition – competing with me in a game I don’t recognise, for women and work positions I don’t want.

Work Groomer: Only World He Knows

Thing is, I don’t even think he’s being that malicious all the time, he just believes that I’m just competing with him. He can have that belief for all I care, but I know that he caused trouble for me in that shop area, as well as with women HE wants, and that it is threatening any good my writing may do.

He also threatens to get those who get in his way; calls women horrible names behind their backs while being nice to their faces (once totally slagging off a mother in one work shift, and then being huddled up to her sharing family photos the next; the children of his relations for him, as he doesn’t have any); calls people grasses if they criticise him, while being the first on the phone if he hears any gossip/scandal, playing the great worker with the workers, and the grovelling worker with the hierarchy; depicts me as non-English and non-local while playing on his localism, and downplaying his non-Englishness with the English locals.

To make it totally clear, it’s not about competition, it’s about personality, and the underhand things he has done to me, and others working for the company, just to keep a position I don’t want, and try and get women I’m not interested in.

Academic Groomer: Competition or Coincidence

Muttley is nothing new, and in his defence, I will say that he is not in a relationship, so he is better in that way than a lot of the men I have seen in academia and work. It’s just that he has been my chief male persecutor in the last three years. Dastardly is the chief female one, but she basically has a male mind, and took to Muttley like Myra Hindley to Ian Brady.

In the last year of my PhD a relationship between the then Head of Department and his student/secretary became official, as they became engaged. This was within the university rules, as long as it was made clear. I don’t know if it was going to be voluntarily declared, because another student apparently found out at first, after spotting the student’s engagement ring.

I’d already finished my PhD then, and was glad to be getting out, but it made me think back, with my hyperthymesia/eidetic brain coming in handy, and I remembered that they’d been to Hawaii together for a conference. The conference had drawn questions from the other students before, but more for the financial and environmental cost, and whether it was worth it.

I also remembered that he had chaperoned her during her presentation to the department. Her thesis was deeply criticised then, making me wonder how she’d passed her upgrade exam, after mine was failed, and it took about two years for the appeal process. She was also helping the tutor when he made his presentation.

She has since become a professor. I thought she was capable enough anyway, and ahead of me in most ways. I supported her when I thought she was a strong independent feminist, and it was her double standards that disappointed me – as well as wondering if she was a student mole. I’d thought it was a woman whose name starts with the letter M, which perhaps shows I’m more writer than detective.

I also wondered if the tutor’s bullying harassment of me was really because he was after her all along – she started the postgraduate process just after me. Or if it was conspiracy rather than competition: did he go with her so I would criticise her, and look sexist, rather than the feminist I try to be.

There was no competition from me anyway, as I was trying to be a good student within the department and university, both for myself and my demographic, which I felt was particularly under attack then during the New Labour multiculturalism emphasis, and height of the use of the term ‘chav’ to describe us.

She was what I call a borderline; sorry if that crosses into sexism for the very political correct; in that she was about a 7/8 out of 10, with 8 the minimum for a relationship. I don’t know when their relationship started, but looking back the turning point could have been after a Greg Dyke talk.

I had joked to a fellow student about doing a protest during the talk, and don’t know if that got around the department. Anyway, some time after taking a seat I looked around to see that the tutor in question had sat down behind me, unannounced. He’d seemed to have taken a liking to harassing me since a female working-class British student’s father had an angry go at him in my presence during our MA graduation drinks, saying ‘ They can’t take it away from you now’.

After the presentation, which I fell asleep in for a little while rather than protesting in, there was a wine presentation. The (groomed) student came to talk to me at first, but I was a little off/cold towards her, by that time angry and suspicious of most of the department. So she said, ‘I’ll go and talk with [the head of department in question] ‘

Double DOC: PhD and Decade Of Celibacy

Looking back, after ten years of celibacy and not much success or recognition, either literary or socially; while she’s become a professor, getting lots of work in Britain and Europe supporting Islamism; again disproving the Islamophobia conspiracy; I think I probably should have just kept quiet, and become a grooming multicultural academic myself. But I think I’m glad I didn’t, before you take it at face value!

The British and European elites seem determined that Islam will be the next opium of the masses, keeping a cloud between the people and the truth, and them in their corrupt cushy grooming worlds, with many (more) women blinkered and subservient.

Competition no, disgust yes – not that I’m totally a heavenly angel, like some people are, and mostly women – just in the above regard over the last decade. A decade where I made myself become special through triumph of will in the way that Nietzsche really meant it, controlling myself in a way that most people would not have thought possible, and that most people still want to ignore or hide. Women have been my biggest inspiration, such as Jane Tomlinson for my running in 2003. Most men don’t seem to have realised, or accepted, this, thirteen years later!

While it started out as waiting for the right woman; being faithful to my future family after disgust with all the grooming and cheating around me, in Wales as well as England; I don’t think the fact that I haven’t found the right woman is disastrous, and just makes my celibacy more impressive – to me at least. I’m willing to continue to death, to show that it is possible. I’ve hardly been out anyway, and been waiting for the right woman to make the move, so I don’t look like I’m grooming, giving the majority of men who will say and do anything a great advantage.

As well as for personal reasons, I did it mostly for women and the working-class, to show that men can control themselves if they wish, including from a class which some upper class people think have no control over themselves. It’s not a provable science, as were (sic) all different. At least I showed that one man can control himself. Whether women and men want to celebrate or criticise it is up to them.

Ironically, society seems to be going the other way, with less and less faithfulness, and respect for women – with rapes and sexual assaults growing crimes in Britain and Europe. My biggest inspiration is the Scandinavian gender equality successes, and I hope that is the future for humanity, rather than a descent into a dystopia for women and children.

Available to buy or borrow on Amazon and all great big bookshops.

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