2
" The few remaining men can exist out their puny days dropped out on drugs or
strutting around in drag or passively watching the high-powered female in action,
fulfilling themselves as spectators, vicarious liver*, or breeding in the cow pasture
with the toadies, or they can go off to the nearest friendly suicide center where
they will be quietly, quickly, and painlessly gassed to death.
Prior to the institution of automation, to the replacement of males by machines,
the male should be of use to the female, wait on her, cater to her slightest whim,
obey her every command, be totally subservient to her, exist in perfect obedience
to her will, as opposed to the completely warped, degenerate situation we have
now of men, not only not only not existing at all, cluttering up the world with their
ignominious presence, but being pandered to and groveled before by the mass of
females, millions of women piously worshiping the Golden Calf, the dog leading
the master on a leash, when in fact the male, short of being a drag queen, is least
miserable when his dogginess is recognized – no unrealistic emotional demands are
made of him and the completely together female is calling the shots. Rational men
want to be squashed, stepped on, crushed and crunched, treated as the curs, the
filth that they are, have their repulsiveness confirmed.
The sick, irrational men, those who attempt to defend themselves against their
disgustingness, when they see SCUM barreling down on them, will cling in terror
to Big Mama with her Big Bouncy Boobies, but Boobies won’t protect them
against SCUM; Big Mama will be clinging to Big Daddy, who will be in the corner
shitting in his forceful, dynamic pants. Men who are rational, however, won’t kick
or struggle or raise a distressing fuss, but will just sit back, relax, enjoy the show
and ride the waves to their demise. "
― Valerie Solanas
9
" Eaten up with guilt, shame, fears and insecurities and obtaining, if he's lucky, a barely perceptible physical feeling, the male is, nonetheless, obsessed with screwing; he'll swim a river of snot, wade nostril-deep through a mile of vomit, if he thinks there'll be a friendly pussy awaiting him. He'll screw a woman he despises, any snaggle-toothed hag, and, further, pay for the opportunity. Why? Relieving physical tension isn't the answer, as masturbation suffices for that. It's not ego satisfaction; that doesn't explain screwing corpses and babies. "
― Valerie Solanas , SCUM Manifesto
