Online Losers Are Preying On Your Sons

By John Loftus and Dylan Housman

Welcome back to Mr. Right, a newsletter about navigating modern manhood for normal guys in a not-normal world. This week, we talk about the incel problem, Teslas and baseball season. 

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Mr. Incel is coming for your son. 

When I first learned what “incels” are, I was probably in my late teens, just getting started with my college years. They were an internet thing, seemingly a group of shitposters who couldn’t get laid and complained about women all day as a result. 

Over the years, media hysteria about the “incel threat” exploded to such a point that the term became an insult for anyone you don’t like, typically hoisted by women at men. The fundamental meaning, “involuntary celibate,” was lost to such a point that this group of men was no longer relevant. 

But now they’re back. In recent weeks I’ve seen conservative and lifestyle accounts increasingly interacting with a new “Incel” Twitter account that is spreading the group’s depressing, counterproductive messaging all day every day. 

This is important because the real “incel threat” isn’t that they’re going to go shoot a bunch of women or plant a bomb at prom or anything like that, though isolated incidents of violence do sometimes occur. 

The real threat is that these people will influence young, vulnerable men toward a path of doomerism and self-destruction. 

The fundamental incel message is that women only care about immutable characteristics, such as facial attractiveness, height and so on. Money and status can help, of course, but at the end of the day those shallow bitches will never love you unless you’re six feet tall. 

Of course, that’s not true. One of the authors of this newsletter is about five-foot-10, could stand to lose about 30lbs and is into weird train documentaries on YouTube. Yet he’s had plenty of success on the dating market and is now in a happy committed relationship because he’s very funny, successful in his career, treats people well and has interesting thoughts about the world to share with people, among other things. 

We write a lot in these pages about the negative influence people like Andrew Tate or Doug Emhoff or whoever else have on young men, and it’s usually because they treat women and other men badly, setting a terrible example for the youth. But we don’t talk enough about the negative influences that encourage men to treat themselves badly, like Mr. Incel. 

If you buy into the Mr. Incel mentality, you won’t go get that wardrobe update, good job offer, gym membership and interesting hobby you need to go meet a nice attractive woman, marry her and start a family. You’ll just give up, assuming yourself damned by the “genetic lottery” they claim determines everything.

As much as I shudder to think of how that young, would-be newsletter author could’ve become infatuated with the likes of Andrew Tate, it’s just as scary to think he could’ve followed along with Mr. Incel and resigned himself to failure. 

So, next time you talk to your son or brother or male friend, don’t just make sure he isn’t buying into the toxic anti-women preachings of the manosphere. Make sure he’s not sabotaging himself with doomerism, either.

He Has A Point: Ignore Markets, Press Weight

This week’s He Has A Point goes out to John Coogan for the tweet of the year so far. 

So simple yet so true. You as a man cannot control the stock market. You can’t change economic policy. You can’t reorder the global trade regime. But you can keep taking care of your health and doing fun stuff, like bench pressing. Don’t get too caught up in the news and let your mind rest in the church of iron.

Dear Mr. Right: Vandal-Proofing The Tesla

Dear Mr. Right, 

My wife and I own a Tesla and are increasingly worried about the left-wing vandals who are firebombing dealerships and charging stations and the normie libs who are so mad over Trump and Elon Musk that they are willing to throw away their lives to key a car in broad daylight. We have friends who are conservative and own a Tesla, but recently, they slapped an old Harris-Walz sticker on the bumber to deter any potential vandals. It’s working … so far, I guess. Should we follow suit, or is our paranoia misplaced? 

- Will from a very Blue city in a Blue-ish State

Dear Will, 

Your paranoia is certainly not entirely misplaced. If there is any mental illness worse than Trump Derangement Syndrome, it’s Elon Derangement Syndrome, and we are currently living through an epidemic of EDS. 

I can’t tell you how many videos I have seen of liberals keying Teslas and getting caught because, well, Teslas have those little cameras on them, right? 

That alone should ease your worries, and I think more liberals will catch on to the fact they’re being recorded and think twice about leaving a long scratch mark on your whip. 

Then again, many liberals are suffering from severe EDS — not to mention they are stupid. 

But hold firm. Do not let them win. No scribbling “Bought in 2020” in car paint. No LGBT flags. No Orange Man Bad stickers. Don’t let these lunatic bullies make you live in fear. The anti-Tesla fever will break at some point, and when it does, no one will care to key your vehicle. People will move on to the next thing, as they usually do. 

In the meantime, don’t be afraid to slap a USA flag on the bumper. Let them know this aggression will not stand, man. 

Now We’re Cooking: Day At The Ballpark

Baseball season is upon us, and although I am not a huge MLB fan, I think it is one of the best sports to watch in person. 

Because a day at a ballpark isn’t just about the sport itself. If you are a die-hard fan, then sure, you are there for the action. For the stats. For the love of baseball. Maybe you are an old-school fan and keep score as the game unfolds. 

I have the utmost respect for those fans — their passion is infectious — but I am no such person. For me, a day at the ballpark is less about what is happening in the game and more about celebrating, and participating in, a truly great American pastime.

When I am at a ballpark, I just feel more American. I feel like I am a part of something much bigger than myself, a tradition that will hopefully survive long after I am gone. The classic organ music. The seventh-inning stretch. The guys walking up and down the stadium, selling peanuts and cotton candy. There is a wholesomeness to it I don’t see in other sports. Baseball is romantic. 

It’s also just a pleasant time. A relaxed day in the sunshine. A couple of hours for cold beers and lukewarm, overpriced glizzies. You can get up out of your seat easily between innings, take a stroll, return to your seat or find a better seat you didn’t actually pay for. Though there is a pitch clock now, the games are still long. Relaxing. An oasis from the stresses of day-to-day life. The people-watching is great, and you can hold a conversation with your buddy without the stadium getting too loud. 

Now we’re cooking. 

Did you love this newsletter by Mr. Right? Email us. Think we should be boiled in oil and locked into a room filled with hungry rats? Email us. Want advice from Mr. Right for next week? Email us. See you next Friday.

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