There once was a man with three hands.
Wherever he went there were screams and shouts,
There were many fainting ladies,
and ever more the frowns.
Sometimes the men would come together,
with sheriff at the front.
They would ask him to leave,
and beg him to never return.
The man felt left out by the world.
That did not wish to give him home or hearth.
He felt himself just another weary soul.
Who they did unjustly hurt.
He decided to join the circus.
Sadly there too he was abandoned.
It was as if among even the greatest dredges of humanity.
He was the worst of them all.
One day in his early 30's.
At a campfire all alone.
He was approached by the sound of hooves.
Raising eyes, he saw an Arab man with a goatish beard and an ancient robe.
He asked him my son, would you like to read the minds of men.
To know that yours is not the greatest burden?
The man thought long then said yes.
With a breeze the Arab was gone.
For the first time frightened the man blew out the flame.
He went on his way to beg by the river.
There he came upon a camp.
Of hobos and alcoholics with poisoned livers.
It was full of the din of noise.
He heard them all.
He heard of all the sins, the murders, r*pes, and tortures.
Committed by them all.
Horrified he left.
For the first time content to be alone.
Then he went on his way.
To another town.
Once more passing by the frowning neighbors and shouting men.
He heard their secret desires.
He heard them all loud and clear.
All the cheats, thieves, killers,
The women whom other men's children they did sire.
Finally he realized as they kicked him out.
That he should have never wept.
For no man did ever deserve the company of such women and men.
After a long road of a thousand thousand secrets.
The three handed man finally learned.
His sins were the least of the bunch.
It was simply that he wore it on him, visible to the world.
So he took a knife, sharpened as well as he could.
With one whack and slice that's all it took, his sin was cut off of him.
He still remembered who he was.
He still was the same man.
His secrets now though were kept shut inside him.
Never to be seen by hypocrites.
He went on to live a better life.
Of smiles, surrounded by neighbors; all polite.
All of them filled with lies as heavy or heavier than his own.
So remember well the moral children.
Be careful when you open up to the world, be wary of what you tell the stranger, that you met on the road.
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This story would be way cooler if he had 3 peepees
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Next time then
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If you had a 3rd hand where would it be? I want mine on the top of my head
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I think chest would be cool.
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Probably more practical than head
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We're very aware that the female-dating-strategy subreddit is operated for the purpose of misinformation, cult-like indoctrination, promoting dysfunction and hatred and negative emotions.
There's an extremely excellent reason (backed up by hours of discussion, ten-thousand-word essays no one outside our mod team will ever read, and theory literature digging and reaching out to experts) why AHS does not put the words "incel" and "women" into the same noun phrase the way that you did in your comment here:
It's because one of the major methods of bad faith apologetics for hate movements is the Tu Quoque: "They're just as bad".
But -- importantly -- the female-dating-strategy is not:
Importantly, there are no mass murders committed by FDS adherents. There are no restraining orders that we're aware of that cite the FDS subreddit. There are no men on Twitter stepping forward to say that members of the FDS movement are bombarding them with unwelcome tweets and direct messages, sexual advances, and photoshopping pornography of them.
In fact we cannot find any credible evidence that there are any groups of powerful women who take over institutions of power to leverage oppression of men as a whole class.
So calling them anything like "incels" is comparing sour apples to radium poisoning.
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