A book written for men by a man who has no clue about women.
h/t Pandagon
Dear Fellow Conservative:
Today’s weak and pusillanimous Nanny State is anything but hospitable to true manhood.
And that’s why we need real men more than ever.
But our society today offers no clear rite of passage for young men. Instead, every male must learn how to be a man as best he can—after all, such knowledge isn’t written in our genetic codes.
That’s why Frank Miniter’s The Ultimate Man’s Survival Guide is a Godsend! It gives young men what they need to become not effete “metrosexuals” skilled at the ins and outs of high fashion and cocktail chat, but well-rounded men who can fight off bears and alligators, create a tourniquet out of a t-shirt, set a dislocated joint, rescue a drowning person—and pick the perfect cigar and bottle of wine.
Presented in six sections—survivor, provider, athlete, hero, gentleman, and philosopher — The Ultimate Man’s Survival Guide teaches men that any guy can be the “ultimate man” whether he is rescuing a lost hiker, plucking a child from a swift stream, or standing up against injustice.
Now, for a limited time, HUMAN EVENTS is making The Ultimate Man’s Survival Guide available to you absolutely FREE.
CLICK HERE to learn more—and to get your FREE hardcover copy of Frank Miniter’s The Ultimate Man’s Survival Guidetoday.
Sincerely,
Thomas S. Winter
Editor in Chief, HUMAN EVENTS
Fight off bears and alligators? Is this what’s left of the Conservative male? Honestly, this is one of the saddest things I’ve ever read. Geez, it’s like one of those cheesy ads for male cologne – Release your inner James Bond.
Roll cameras…
An unbelievable handsome, buff man (who bears no resemblance to the balding, middle-age man reclining in the Lazy Boy watching the ad with a copy of The Ultimate Man’s Survival Guide resting on his beer belly) is perched on a cliff in the middle of dense forest. He looks down at his Rolex and by the expression on his, oh so, rugged face we can tell he’s late. He springs to his feet and races through the foliage, leaping over fallen trees and rocks with the speed and skill of an Olympic athlete. As he turns a bend he skids to a halt, coming face to face with a giant grizzly bear. The man sighs and checks his watch again. It’s apparent he doesn’t have time for this. The bear lunges. The man releases a primal scream and throws a punch. The bear staggers and falls over. Leaping over the unconscious bear the man continues his journey until he comes to a river. He hears a cry for help. Steely blue eyes scan the bank until he spies a skinny man, wearing an Obama ’08 tee shirt, writhing in pain (and crying like a sissy-boy) on the other side of the river. Without a thought for his own safety the man dives into the icy water only to break the surface with an alligator in his grasp. Man and beast wrestle until the man frees his belt, wraps it around the alligator’s snout and rides the animal to the other side. Once there he knocks the alligator out cold, assesses the wimpy man’s medical condition and simultaneously rips off his shirt, ties a tourniquet around the girly-man’s bleeding leg while dialing 911.
Fast forward… Image of man stepping out of waterfall and splashing on cologne as he winks at camera. Moments later we watch as our he-man, now clad in Armani, enters an upscale restaurant, snaps his fingers at the maitre de before joining a gorgeous woman with an over-sized pout on her face. The man smiles, rejects the bottle of wine and cigar being offered by the hovering waiter while schooling the lad in the art of wine and cigars. The waiter beams under a real man’s tutelage, decides to drop out of Harvard and join a survivalist camp. Meanwhile, the woman’s bottom lip almost hits the table.
“You’re late,” she accuses.
“Sorry, babe,” he murmurs, a secret gleam in his eye. “Rough day at the office. It’s a jungle out there.”
Woman purrs.
Fade to black… (okay, maybe we can add a few fireworks for implied sex.)
Books like these are nothing more than male romance novels. Meaning they are complete and utter fantasy (besides completely missing the point of what a real man is – just like they miss the point of what is a real American). The true difference between these manly books and romance novels is that the men who write them and read them expect to be taken seriously.
Bwhahahahahaha!