This week, events have forced me to write on a different topic than I had intended to, so you will have to wait to read some more about my “feats of doing” on the field of honour.
Although the genesis of this week’s column dates back to February, 2020, its origins go back much farther than that, back to the beginning of time, in fact. Not everybody is, or has been, happy with their lot in life, or indeed, with the fact that some people just might get “a piece of the pier” which some sociopathic people feel is undeserved.
And of course, these people will base their judgements on such valid criteria as race, religion, national origin or language. For purposes of discussion today, I am going to focus on the use of “sex” as the yardstick.

There has been a lot of talk and much written about the so called “war between the sexes”. “Love is a battlefield” as
Pat Benatar famously sang. There’s always kidding about everything from the difference between lineups to the washroom when you’re out as a couple to what activities a group of women would get up to when they “spending a night in” as compared to what a group of men would get up to in the same situation. Kidding around like that about our differences can be healthy. However, everything in moderation.
Taken to extremes a), however, our differences can divide us, or to be more correct, can be used to divide us. Look at the inequity in compensation which is rampant throughout the world of business. How about “the glass ceiling”? Look at the fact that it is difficult for women to advance in many occupational areas, and when they do, they often get judged harshly by others. b)
There is no doubt that there is a strong undercurrent of misogyny running through society, and that xenophobia and homophobia are included as the “elevator music” of daily discourse. These attitudes are all around us, and we have to confront and defeat them if we want to build an all inclusive society, where everyone has a seat at the Table of the Banquet of Life.

There has even been a movement started called “Incel”. Interestingly enough, it was started by a woman in Toronto, Ontario in the 1990’s. She had just started dating, in her mid twenties. She set it up as a place for people to discuss dealing with, inter alia, sexual frustration and reasons why people had trouble finding dates.. It was a place for people to mingle, and she named it “Invcel” c), short for “Involuntary Celibate”. It was very successful in building relationships and providing a means of communication. As the founder’s life evolved, she drifted away from the community.
Now the world has changed drastically in the last 20 years, and sadly, so has the Internet. The “Incel” movement has morphed into chatrooms full of men who are unlucky in love, and waste their energy railing against feminism and smart, self assured women. They use disparaging nicknames for sexually active men, whom they call “Chad (s)”. Sexually active women are called “Stacy (s)”. And they don’t stop at invective.
Over 50 people, mostly women, have been murdered by followers of the “Incel” philosophy. 50 people. Murdered. For a cause which is indefensibly dubious at the best, the ultimate in “victim-shaming”.
If someone is seeking a partner, they have to use what they have been given in the way of physical appearance. They should add some personality, humour and attitude to the mix and try their luck on the dating scene. If they are unsuccessful, some careful self examination is required and changes made where necessary to improve their chances of finding someone compatible.,
However, these “Incels” are doing nothing of the sort. Rather than address their own deficiencies, they lash out at “the enemy”, with words and even with weapons. They proclaim murderers as heroes and publish online manifestos against women.

Which brings me back to my original point about the killing in February in Toronto. I used to ride past that spa on my way to my doctor’s, so it hit home with me. I also worked at our Yonge and Sheppard office, and if I had been there the day of the van attack, I might have been on the sidewalk when it occurred. An innocent employee at the spa lost her life. (If you look down your nose at her because she was a sex trade worker, maybe you are part of the problem, by the way.)
The killer made it known that he murdered her because he believes in the “Incel” philosophy. That’s right, he took her life because she thought differently from him. Over 50 people have been murdered. That’s the capacity of a commuter airliner. What’s

encouraging is that this crime is being treated as an act of terrorism for the very first time. Let’s hope that it marks the start of a trend as we try to regain control of our country from evil people.
You’ll note that I haven’t mentioned any names. I don’t want to encourage them. Also, the founder of the “Incel” site. has created a new project, “Love Not Anger“.
See you soon.
a) As extremists tend to do..
b) Such judgements often involve character assassination and other irrelevancies.
c) She changed the abbreviation to “Incel”, which is easier to say.

A confirmed Cat person, Peter dabbled with being a water boy, a paper boy and an altar boy before finally settling on a career with the Canadian federal government. Once, in his youth, he ate a Dutch oven full of mashed potatoes to win a 5 cent bet with his beloved sister Mary’s boyfriend. (Of course he was much younger and a nickel went a lot farther!) He has retired to
palatial “Chez Montreuil”, which he shares with his diabetic little buddy Reg the Cat. He is blessed to have his dear Lois in his life. He is not only a plastic aircraft modeller, but a proud “rivet counter”. Military aviation and live music are among other interests of his, and he tries to get out to as many shows as he can. He will be here for your enlightenment whenever the stars align. Profile photo courtesy of Pat Blythe, caricature courtesy of Peter Mossman.
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This entry was posted on May 21, 2020 at 6:16 pm and is filed under Opinion with tags "Love Not Anger", Don't Believe a Word I Say, Love Is A Battlefield, Pat Benatar, Peter Montreuil, Robert Segarini. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
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