The Oscars (statues presented annually by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences) were awarded on Sunday, February 28th.
The Thelmas are awarded annually, too, by the Men’s Rights Movement (MRM) for feminist films (real or imagined, intended or amended) that have done the most to drive gender justice over the cliff.
This year’s nominees included:
A Grrrrl in the River: The Price of Forgiveness
MGTOWs internationally go their own ways after hearing a leading feminist scream for help, finding herself far up Shit Creek, lacking a paddle, heading toward Infrastructure Fail Falls.
A bio-pic of an infamous, fat, and fatuous feminist: her royal tonnage, Madame Andrea “Gimme Donuts” Dworkin. The movie chronicles her losing battle with facial hair along with her fondness for Honey Bun pastries (scarfing dozens per sitting). The documentary also delves into her struggle to find the proper overalls to encase her immense mobytude, ultimately settling on one plus-size category: The Big Short.
Chow, Beyond the Lines
A docu-alimentary film revealing how feminists create their army of landwhales. The fierce, feisty head of Camp Shamu— Gloria Gluttonstein— takes the camera crew behind the scenes to show femisaurs participating in the Rosie O’Donnell Waddlethon after carb-scarfing at the Ima Mess Hall.
Embrace of the Serpent
A claque of PUAs (pickup artists) brainstorms to find a slogan to save women from the 9-levels of feminist hell. Ultimately they discover a singularly effective strategy: simply suggest to normal females that they need to heed their inner urge-to-merge and “follow the phallus.” Soundtrack by the Lizard King, Doors superstar Jim Morrison. Filmed on location in Japan during Kanamara Matsuri.
Everything Will Be Okay
An examination of the unforeseen social consequences of feminism’s male-bashing. Guys are shown “going Galt,” letting “teh wimminz” maintain infrastructures and other MAN-ifestations of civilization. Male scientists become MGTOWs, handing STEM jobs to the “little ladies.” Steinemites are subsequently interviewed in caves that females retreat to whenever rain drives them their daily berry-picking.
A naive married mangina buys into a snow-job shilled by a financial adviser. He then suffers gruesome losses during a bear market, barely surviving. He soon finds that everything and everyone he once knew no longer know him. He gets thrown out of his mancave by his suddenly-unhappy wife, leaving him homeless. Bereft, stripped of his children, saddled with child support, he suffers from a deeply-wounded ego. Ultimately he drags himself to the safety of the nascent men’s movement, farting in the general direction of feminists.
Montages of humans around the world celebrating the death of the women’s movement. There are conversations with the curator of the Hillary Canklesaurus Unnatural History Museum as well as the head keeper at the Hear Me Roar fembot zoo. Raucous groups of normal men and woman gather in bars to share war stories. One man talks about how his house turned into a sty just one week after he went on strike, reminding his worse-half of all the unpaid “housework” he did. A normal female jokes about the time feminist GIs bragged about being tougher than men…and the 3 minutes it took for two male Marines to deck 30 female jarheads. Good times!
Last Day of Freedom
A tragic look at the final 24-hours in a bachelor’s life before he succumbs to modern marriage. This sensitive film portrays the doomed protagonist (sporting unwashed two-tone briefs: yellow in front, brown in back) enjoying his last nag-free flatulences, testicle-scratchings, boisterous eructings, and digital nasal probes. His buddies gather to console him, helping him pick out a “manly” dog-collar with macho leash.
Mad Maxipad: PMS Road
Another feminist chick-flick masquerading as reality. Naturally, a bad-ass woman (tougher than nearly all men) fights to bring a bunch of pregger hotties to Femtopia, the Land that Progress Oppressed. How such equal, all-powerful, ready-for-combat ladies became slaves in the first place is never explained. In any case, after reaching the Allred Alamo, the caravan espies live skeletons walking about aimlessly, gals argle-bargling about “unpacking patriarchal oppressions with Foucaultian narratives in diverse colonial voices that intersect queer trans-inclusion” while picking at granola bits scattered on the ground. Like deranged, clucking chickens, the loony lasses pray that some sensible man somewhere will show up to redirect them to comforting kitchens.
Shaun the Sheep Movie
This plodding, predictable propaganda pic portrays the sad lot of Shaun, a mangina who double-majored in Women’s Studies and Masochism at Whatsamatta U. The film follows him on his quest to remove his offending appendage (in orfer to become a superior being/woman). Will willy-less Shaun succeed as a crusading caitlynite? The jury is out, “hung” or not.
Straight Outta Cosby
Ice Cube’s filmic opus has been deemed Oscar material. Meanwhile William Henry Cosby is considered persona non grata for mocking Fat Albertish folks with speech impediments. Oh, and for having drugs on-hand for aged former-demoiselles who willingly star-fucked a rich married celebrity. Of course, ‘Cos is not being electronically lynched for procuring heroin for his groupies (as some of his rock-star peers surely did), but for obtaining quaaludes (aka reds, sopors, ludes) the “love drug” of the 1970s (akin to today’s Ecstasy). For giving now-unforgiving white girls what they wanted then, Cliff Huxtuble is media frog-marched out of America’s fickle favor, forced to do an eternal perp-walk. Meanwhile, Mr. Cube (O’Shea Jackson) is welcomed into polite society. And why not? His wordsmithery rivals Shakespeare. Consider these word-up! words penned by His Cubitude, addressing the father of a honkie girl ensconced with his Compton crew: Givin’ Up the Nappy Dugout.
The Farce Awakens
After 50 years, men reconnect with their cojones and begin the much-needed task of dismantling feminist dystopias. The hero, Bik Boanir (born Hugh Chardon), confronts the evil Vaginate Empire and its myriad misandric agents: Jabba-the-Dunham; Obi-gawn NOW; Quitt Yer-Bitchin; Goot-Raip Ensler; Naiomi Bal-Oni; Nobuti Faludi; and Dr. Frankensteinem. Meanwhile, Solo Han Job, Loopy Skywanker, Princess Leia Mi-down, and Yogurt join other rebels to remove the asthmatic, desiccated Empress Dearth Vager.
The Danish Girl
A horde of horny middle-aged men reminisce about their summers as waiters at a Catskills resort…and their lust for a certain shiksa pastry chef. They share frustrations, like how she boinked every bad-boy biker in the region. They also share laughs, like learning that she ended up alone with a tragic nightly routine: 1 gallon of ice cream, 3 DVDs of Oprah re-runs, and 10 cats….meow or less.
The Hateful Eight
A searing expose of The Octagon, the 8-member cabal of harridans who founded modern feminism. The docu-crew follows the hirsute hussies on their daily rounds of gripe-collecting, blame-mongering, and excuse-making. Filmed in SBV (Super Bloviation Vision), the movie realistically captures all the venom, hot-air, and laughable lies conjured during typical fembot covens. Cameos include vignettes with Miss Andry, I. Haitmenn, Minnie-the-Moocher, Leica-Meye Hooterz, and Carla Mia Cabb.
The Look of Silence
This wonderful word-less film chronicles the creation of a reality show wherein fierce, feisty “wimmin” are asked simple queries presented on huge Jumbotron screens. Questions include: how to hang a door, unclog a toilet, solve basic math problems, gap lawn-mower spark plugs, and so on. The “deer-in-headlights” responses of egalitarian gals is priceless.
After a half-century search, Western men finally succeeded in locating the sole cause of their misery: an extraterrestrial who descends at night while they sleep, changing laws to favor women. Millions of dudes celebrate this discovery by remaining in Lazy-Boy recliners, drinking beer, while watching football games on large-screen TVs. Meanwhile their kids/cash continue to be taken by active earth-bound wimmin spreading femobutilism.
We Can’t Live Without Cosmos
Sex in the City aficionados gather to lament the Burma Death March-like travails of thoroughly-modern women. Like having to choose between watching Fifty Shades of Hanky-Spanky or Marry, Pray, Cheat, Divorce; shopping for knock-offs of Manolo Blahniks or Jimmy Choo shoes; blaming all men for their failures or only guys they know. Oh, the humanity!
What Happened, Miss Simone?
A 98-year-old woman wheelchairs her way from Maine to California to meet Gloria Allred. Miss Simone swears that Bill Cosby violated her, too, Thrice, in fact. Once when she was a Girl Scout and he flipped her bippy after giving her tainted cookies. Again when she was a 50-year-old unwed mother (raising 6 kids from 7 fathers) and ‘Cos fondled her fun-bags after soaking her SNAP card in LSD. And finally when she was 90 and he ogled her bogle after spiking her Geritol with vodka. Gloria grows ecstatic, having found the millionth accuser of the once-and-mighty Mr. Huxtable! Put that in your pudding, Fat Albert!
World of Tomorrow
A group of rambunctious boys, drugged by school officials for being defective girls, meets weekly to plot revenge. They discuss the future, when their feminist teachers will be in nursing homes…and vulnerable. The young lads consider administering ice-water enemas; mixing colonoscopy-prep “cocktails” on Visitors Day; filling shampoo tubes with hair-removing Nair; and replacing lipstick tubes with Preparation H. Oh, happy day!