>there are grown men on /mu/ right now who I ironically enjoy listening to this
https://youtu.be/PWQUs7S0bYo
Pic related, it's what I picture when I try to picture a grown man who unironically enjoys this vapid histrionic shit.
>>66165355
grown nu-males you mean
not men
the mountain goats are the quintessential nu-male band
this is a good album
>song about wanting women to die
Tallahassee is le redpilled
>>66165665
>>66165863
>nu-males
Is this the latest buzz word The Amazing Atheist and the rest of the internet's anti-feminist communities are spreading?
>>66165977
pretty much
>>66165977
yep
what is legitimate wrong with the Mountain Goats
>>66165977
Spot on. I only listen to power metal.
>>66165977
surely shoving bananas up your ass is indicative of being a nu-male
>>66165915
It's satire
>We're white males and this is how most white males think but white males are scum we're actually inferior to womyn and PoC we're sorry for being white
>>66166711
No Children isn't satire, he meant every word when he wrote it.
>>66166760
your parents made you as satire
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lzjkNKHa2UQ
even the band everyone calls cucked has written pretty real songs.
>>66165977
Yes
They have a couple of good punchlines but besides that enjoy your box wine and anti-depressants. Maybe you and your blue haired wife will embrace the cuckold lifestyle and you wont die alone.
>>66166602
Not if you codify it as radical male sexuality.
>>66165355
I was young, far too young. He was wintering in Kent, whoever 'he' was. I may have convinced myself that it was all a dream. I first saw him when he held the door for me at the local railway museum, and our paths crossed again in the library; we both reached for the same copy of Nabokov's Pale Fire as he hummed the vocal melody of Van Morrison’s Cyprus Avenue. Our hands brushed, and we looked to each other – I with a nervous smile, he with a grin that has now come to haunt my mind's eye whenever I allow my thoughts to wander as I am taken in by the motorik rhythms of certain popular German progressive rock bands. "Take it," he said. "I much prefer his earlier work." I thanked him and turned to leave, but as I did so he grabbed my dress and tugged me back, forcefully wrapping his arm about my waist and pushing my bottom against the rock of his crotch. I respected the policies of the library too much to scream. He pressed his nose to my scalp – "You're a soft little machine, aren't you? Mhm... seven out of ten." For reasons I still do not entirely comprehend, his judgement relaxed me. I told him my train was not leaving for another hour and he led me back to his cottage. Foreplay consisted of him slapping me about the face and asking "What does my baby say?" until I tearfully replied with "W-we can live in the empty spaces of this life." I do not wish to recall the rest of the afternoon in any more detail, but it was, as you would expect, slow, deep, and hard. Part of my therapy has involved revisiting the library, wherein I overheard a man at the desk enquiring as to where he could find a book on the Beatles. The look that crept upon the librarian’s face is one with which I am all too familiar. My smile is stuck, I cannot go back to your frownland…
