Are Your Attempts at Reclaiming Your Masculinity Working? Probably Not.


The industrial revolution called fathers from the fields and into factories, and made them strangers to their sons. Consequently, the sons of those sons never really knew their fathers either, nor did the sons after that, and so on. It’s no surprise, then, that the lessons our great, great, great grandfathers taught to our great, great grandfathers are all but gone, and now the world is lousy with little boys lurching about in the bodies of men. To our credit, we, the lost man-children of 2013, are working harder than ever to rediscover what it is to be a man. We’re getting our hands dirty and doing all the manly shit we’ve seen on shows like Grizzly Adams and Daniel Boone. But while these brave endeavors are admirable, many of us are getting it terribly, hopelessly, embarrassingly wrong. Here are 7 signs that your efforts to rescue your masculinity are all for naught.

You’re dressing like a frontiersman. Those men from the days of yore lived in the wilderness and built log cabins and choked out grizzly bears for fun. You didn’t, so you can get changed, please. Unless, of course, you’re an extra in Cold Mountain? You’re not? Then take that ridiculous outfit off and stop behaving like you invented maple syrup.

You grew a beard. Oh, you grew a beard. Bravo. Let me tell you something, buddy, cultivating whiskers doesn’t mean you’re a man, it means you stopped shaving. That’s it. So you can narrow your gait and calm the fuck down, Mr. Johnny Big-balls McRugged. This rule doesn’t apply to my bearded employer, Chris Searl, for two reasons: 1) he’s had his since he was 13, and 2. I like my job. Loving the beard, Chris.

You take fine cheese on camping trips. Camping with friends is not about discussing the complexities of Gruyere, Comte or Mousseron Jurassien. It’s about drinking the beer until it’s all gone, then drinking the liquor until that’s all gone. And then it’s about mouth-syphoning fuel and spitting it on the fire. Losing your eyebrows. That’s camping.

You think you need a pocketknife. Why do you need a pocketknife? You don’t need a fucking pocketknife, Huckleberry Fin. What you need is a kick up the arse and a job.

You paid $50 for an oxhorn comb that was handcrafted by French artisans. This comb (which is real) should come with a complimentary punch in the head. It’s a fucking comb, man. Get a grip.

You think ‘manscaping’ is a good idea. This is madness, and anyone who disagrees is absolutely insane. Men are hairy. We’re meant to be hairy. And if the girl you hang out with doesn’t like hairy men–get yourself a WOMAN. You should only shave the areas where ladies put their lips for extended periods.

You wear thermal underwear. Please. It’s not that cold. Grow a dick.

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