As you’ve probably noticed, there are constant efforts among my haters to falsely paint me as a rapist. I’ve no doubt made that job easier for them by writing the article How To Stop Rape, where through an obvious thought experiment I state how rape would be decreased if we legalize it. Not only have I been called a rapist, but also a “rape advocate,” a term that appears to have been invented only for me.
The excerpt that is often used to falsely portray me as a rapist is the following, which I wrote in Bang Iceland (2011):
While walking to my place, I realized how drunk she was. In America, having sex with her would have been rape, since she couldn’t legally give her consent. It didn’t help matters that I was relatively sober, but I can’t say I cared or even hesitated.
I won’t rationalize my actions, but having sex is what I do. If a girl is willing to walk home with me, she’s going to get the dick no matter how much she has drunk. I’ll protect myself by using a condom (most of the time), but I know that when it comes to sex, one ounce of hesitation or a feeling of morality will get me nothing.
In this quote, which was taken out of context, I admit to sleeping with a girl who appeared more inebriated than me, and nothing more. My exaggerated “I’m a nonstop sex machine” bravado, which I always incorporate into my sex writing, is irrelevant. Now let’s put the quote in full context and see how the story continued:
I woke up first in the morning and looked over at her. I fully expected to be greeted by a beast, but I was pleasantly surprised that she actually looked better. I studied her face in the morning light and concluded that it was magnificent. She was the hottest Icelandic girl I had gotten with, and definitely in the top 10% of my all-time bangs. I pulled the covers down and examined her flawless creamy skin and her perfectly proportioned body with big tits and round ass. My dick was getting hard again and I gently poked her with it, fully expecting the typical awkward after-sex Icelandic vibe, but instead I was greeted with, “So you want to fuck again?”
Two more times we went, and by the end of it I had no semen left. Then we started to get to know each other. First we exchanged names, then ages, then professions. I’m pretty sure that guys know more about the prostitutes they fuck than I do about the Icelandic women I got with.
The morning after this girl was “raped,” and when she was completely sober, she asked me to have sex again. We did it two additional times and began to develop a connection that was deeper than my other Icelandic bangs (i.e. we knew each other’s first names).
There is no court of law in the world that would consider what happened that night rape, or see her as a rape victim, even if she was slightly inebriated the night before. She woke up the next day, remembered the good sex I gave her the night before, and eagerly wanted to have sex with me again. With every sex story I have written, if you take away writing devices I use to portray myself as an unstoppable sex god, and my trollish statements meant to microaggress feminists, what you’re left with are sexual encounters that are 100% consensual. And I can back that up with the fact that I’ve never been accused of rape by any woman in my life, online or off.
If you buy Bang Iceland and read it, you’ll also notice that Icelandic culture is one where heavy drinking is part of the mating dance. This feature has been encouraged by feminists to allow women to sleep with strangers in a twisted attempt to be “empowered.” When using an immoral feminist definition of consent, which unfortunately is being used today in the West, every single man including myself and even most women are the hook for “rape.” This is exactly what feminists want, to have men living in fear by allowing women to retroactively change their minds about all their sex encounters. The end goal is to allow women to have the power to point to a man and imprison him at her will, but even when using their dystopian definition, the story in Iceland that they use to paint me as a rapist clearly fails to do so.
Therefore, anyone who calls me a rapist is defaming my character to scare away men who need my advice the most. By falsely painting me as a rapist, they prevent men from accessing the very information that will drastically improve their lives.
I’m writing this article not to convince haters or even moderates, but to give context to readers who didn’t get a chance to read Bang Iceland in its entirety. The false accusations against me, no matter how persistent, will not stop me from sharing advice that helps men, and I will continue to do my part to reverse the attempts by feminists and social justice warriors to criminalize legal masculine behavior.