Yesterday morning, I had a realization: I don’t want to be part of the manosphere anymore.
I remember the exact moment when it happened. I was sitting in a brunch joint in downtown Buffalo, waiting for the waitress to bring me my orange juice, when I came across Danger & Play’s article on quitting the ‘sphere. Like an empty car ambling forward on drive, I slowly grew angrier, my left hand balling into a fist under the table.
Mike’s article was the catalyst for my growing revelation: the manosphere is dead.
I’ve defended the manosphere for years now because as one of its founders, I felt a certain loyalty to it. Mike’s article made me realize how I’ve sold myself out in the process. As he pointed out, almost no one came to his defense when Tucker Max and Geoffrey Miller plagiarized his blog for their watered-down ripoff site Mating Grounds. I’ll freely admit that the week prior to that, when Frost discovered that Jack from Viva La Manosphere was plagiarizing Mike’s site Fit Juice for his own juicing blog, I didn’t want to do anything initially because I didn’t want to “rock the boat” in regards to site traffic (Viva La Manosphere was one of my blog’s biggest referrers). It was a completely cowardly cop-out and I apologize for it.
But it goes deeper than this: two of the manosphere’s biggest voices are frauds.
For about 2-3 years now, Sunshine Thiry (aka Sunshine Mary) and Danny Edwards (aka Danny from 504) have been lying and creating fantasy personas solely to get attention on the Internet. Sunshine pretends to be a submissive, devoted housewife while Danny pretends to be a ladies’ man. While this is bad enough, both Sunshine and Danny have engaged in massively unethical and borderline-illegal intimidation and harassment of their “enemies” as well. And despite evidence of their chicanery sitting in plain view, the two of them continue to receive support from the manosphere.
As Nassim Taleb put it, if you see fraud and don’t shout “Fraud!”, you are a fraud. A sin of omission is still a sin. By continuing to coddle liars like Sunshine and Danny, the manosphere has shown that it no longer serves the Good. Because my first loyalty is to the truth, I’m here to expose these two charlatans and inform you of how dangerous they are.
Some of you will likely object to my doxing of Sunshine. Putting aside the fact that her personal information has already been leaked all over the Internet by “anti-fundie” forums such as Free Jinger, I’d say her private info is very relevant considering that not only is it at complete odds with the image she presents online, she’s attempted to use other peoples’ private info against them.
Sunshine Thiry: Portrait of a Desperate Housewife
Sunshine Thiry began blogging several years ago at The Woman and the Dragon; she deleted that site a year ago after purportedly being outed, but resumed writing at her current blog not long after. Her “story” is that after discovering that her husband Philip (aka Holy Hand Grenade/HHG) had cheated on her over 30 times some years ago, Sunshine “rediscovered” traditional femininity and used it to save her marriage. She claims that her husband works as a doctor earning six figures a year, that they live in an upper-middle class neighborhood in Ann Arbor, Michigan, and that they have five daughters.
All of this is a lie.
Philip Thiry is actually employed as a nurse; while he makes a respectable wage, it doesn’t qualify as “upper-middle class” even if you add in the scant income Sunshine makes as a part-time speech therapist. The Thiry family lives in a tiny house in Ypsilanti, a slummy suburb of Ann Arbor with a median household income of only $28,610 per year. To analogize, Ypsilanti is to Ann Arbor as Newark is to Manhattan. Finally, the Thirys have exactly two daughters, which explains how Sunshine can find the time to write so many blog posts despite supposedly being a busy traditional housewife. A cursory glance at her childrens’ social networking profiles confirms that the Thirys have only two daughters, meaning that Sunshine has been posting pictures of other peoples’ children on her blog trying to pass them off as hers.
But it’s not just the details of her life that Sunshine has fibbed about; her persona of being a submissive housewife is also completely false.
I’ve often wondered what kind of man would be fine with his wife posting intimate details of their relationship and raunchy sex talk on a public blog. The answer is a man who is completely dominated by said wife. Despite Sunshine’s claims, she is not attracted her husband Philip, she wears the pants in their marriage, and she is a typical bossy American woman. And as it turns out, Philip’s cheating was likely motivated by Sunshine’s constant nagging, as this comment from someone who knew them in real life shows:
I used to know SSM and I am simply amazed at the about-face that she’s done. She used to be fun and really cute, with a wicked sense of humor that would peek out every once in a while, often at the expense of herself.
She tried very hard to be a mellow hippie, but she actually was sort of bossy. Her boyfriend (now husband) was also cute and funny and fun. She quickly showed that she wore the pants in that relationship. The only thing I can figure is that he rebelled against her bossiness by cheating. Now she’s desperately trying to keep him under control through religion and gender roles, it seems. My guess is that his control is illusory.
I’ve been fascinated with the way she glosses over or rewrites history when she talks about the past. She was very cute but not thin or a runner in her younger days. She was a charming flirt, maybe a bit of a tease and if she wasn’t promiscuous, she led people to believe that she was. She also didn’t meet her husband when “they” were students. He was a free spirit, a high school graduate but had never enrolled in college (or who had dropped out) and worked minimum-wage jobs to support himself. She helped put him through college. She has two biological children, not four. She has also written that she was from an intact home. That is not the way I remember it.
Speaking of promiscuity, Sunshine was likely a slut when she was in college. If her thousand-cock stare in the picture isn’t enough for you, here’s an email I got from a friend of mine:
I suspect SSM was quite the little slut back in her college days. I recently sockpuppeted at her blog using a proxy and basically her answer to my allegations was, “I never said I engaged in bisexual activity,” but she rather conspicuously, at least to me, never unequivocally stated that she didn’t. If it weren’t true, you can bet your ass a woman would say “I never did that,” not “I never said I did that.” That’s similar to the non-apology apology, “I’m sorry you feel that way.”
But does someone become the president of an admitted party house without being “popular” and going along with the culture? And what woman would cultivate a reputation of being promiscuous if she weren’t? She certainly admitted to having “not shaved” because that was the thing at her house, and that there was lots of girl on girl action going on (with other girls and her lesbo/bi roommate; yeah, right). She also said she travelled to other universities and sorority houses; gee, do ya think she partook of some of the hedonistic delights there too? Do you think she is so worried about sluts at colleges because that was her experience and she’s afraid her daughter will do the same?
Finally, Sunshine Thiry, the special little snowflake that she is, constantly tries to deny her affiliation with the manosphere. She repeatedly insists that she is not part of the ‘sphere (claiming in an email to me that she got “co-opted into the manosphere”) and complains about her pathetic, whiny male commenters even as she writes anti-feminist posts specifically targeted at them, fills her blog with titillating sex talk, and aggressively comments on and links to manosphere blogs. Even when Sunshine supposedly closed the comments on her blog for Lent, she immediately stepped up her use of Twitter and asking manosphere bloggers questions on Ask.fm. She also denies being a Red Pill Woman™ even as she writes in the same style and about the same subject matter as TempestTcup, Stingray, Margery etc.
If it walks like a duck, talks like a duck, and sucks like a duck, Sunshine wants us to think it’s a goose.
But being a fraud in and of itself is not what makes Sunshine Thiry a wretched human being. It’s her intimidation of anyone who criticizes her that has earned her a special place in hell. Sunshine has repeatedly libeled her enemies in the most ridiculous ways and has even attempted to use government coercion to silence them. Her crowning achievement was when she attempted to have the children of one of her critics, Lena S., taken away by Child Protective Services:
OK, it didn’t take long to figure out who you are.
Does this strike you as normal behavior on your part? Of course I am going to immediately report you to word press, but furthermore, can you not see that this is bizarre, bizarre behavior? Your obsession with me has gone on long enough. Surely there is something going on in your life that is a bit more worthwhile than this.
I understand that you dislike me and I have understood for a long time that you are obsessed with me, but I can’t quite understand why you are so obsessed. E., I’d encourage you to speak to a priest or counselor and get some help with this. Most people find your behavior very strange. I think if you step back and consider your behavior, you will have to agree that it is rather disturbed.
In any event, I will pray for you and also for your children. It worries me that they are under your care, frankly. Recall that even when you barely knew me, you sent me one of your daughter’s private school records (IEP) with all your personal information in it. I am going to assume that unless this blog is deleted that you have had some kind of mental health crisis, and it will then be necessary for me to contact authorities to check on your children’s well-being.
May God bless you with renewed health and peace.
When Lena and Laura Grace Robins attempted to bring this to peoples’ attention, the Red Pill Women™ either ignored it or attacked them for being “catty.” Beyond the obvious heinousness of trying to use government goons to break up Lena’s family, Sunshine didn’t even identify the target properly; the Sunshine Gary blog is not run by Lena. In other words, Sunshine was threatening to destroy Lena’s life for absolutely nothing. (You can read more about Sunshine’s threat here.)
This is not all. Sunshine has a peculiar obsession with Lena and Laura, frequently attacking them and attempting to turn men such as myself against them. Several months ago, Sunshine started a rumor on Twitter that Lena’s now-defunct blog Not Equal But Different was hosting malware, a ridiculous lie. When several of her readers called Sunshine out on her mendacity, she backtracked and deleted all of her Tweets. Lena archived Sunshine’s comments on her blog and was kind enough to provide me with a copy of her post; you can read it here.
Yet in Sunshine’s warped mind, it’s Lena and Laura who are obsessed with her. In an email to me a few weeks ago (screenshot here; I’ve redacted some details for privacy reasons), she ludicrously tried to claim that Laura “spends hours each day scouring [her] site” and clicks on her site “30 or 40 times” some days. I don’t know Laura Grace Robins in real life, but I can vouch for her having read her blog(s) for years (in fact, she’s one of a handful of bloggers in this part of the Internet who’s been around longer than me); these accusations from Sunshine are baseless.
It’s obvious from her online antics that Sunshine Thiry is a narcissist or has some other kind of personality disorder. Her primary concern is lapping up attention for men as revenge for her husband’s 30 plus affairs. Yet with the exception of Lena S., Laura Grace Robins and a few others, no one has dared to publicly call her out. In fact, Sunshine has won accolades from manospherians for her advocacy of traditional femininity. Before she closed comments on her blog, she had threads going into the hundreds of comments from men praising her, begging for more details of how Holy Hand Grenade makes her get on her knees and suck his cock, and alternately whining about how they’re doomed to die alone because they’ll never find a wife like her.
Even men who should know better are taken in by Sunshine’s wiles; a friend of mine (who I will not name out of respect for him) has repeatedly been making excuses for her even though he’s had no problem with putting men on blast in the past for far lesser crimes.
It’s clear that the bulk of manospherians value their fantasies of a perfectly submissive (but low-maintenance) China Doll wife over the truth. Sunshine Thiry has consistently had a large readership despite being a mediocre writer who hasn’t said anything that men before her haven’t said better. In fact, at one point she even had more readers than me. (I can’t get exact numbers anymore because WordPress.com blogs are no longer indexed on Quantcast, so you’ll just have to take my word for it.) Despite all the talk of “alpha males” and “game” and “dominance,” most of the manosphere is all too happy to kiss the ass of any coquette who says all the right words. “ZOMG FINALLY A WOMAN WHO GETS IT!!!!!11” “Where can I find a wife like you?”
Try the unicorn stables, bucko.
Danny from 504: Mentally Unstable Keyboard Jockey
Despite all this, I was content to let Sunshine fade into the sunset when a few days ago, Danny from 504 attempted to blackmail me into staying silent on her (screenshot here):
a little birdie told me you were thinking about talking shit about SunShineMary.
you out out her, i out you. and i have MUCH video to support you know SHIT that is applicable to interacting with women. i never commented on the meet up for a reason.
you shit talk her, i WILL post the actual meet-up. WITH video, and tempest’s post and my VIDEO.
let it go dude. it’s not worth it. it’s bitch shit.
I laughed out loud when I first read this. Danny’s threat is emptier than his little head (and I mean little; the guy’s 5 foot 3 at most). Not only was he only with us half the time during the New Orleans meetup, he wasn’t filming anything. Moreover, I’ve never claimed to be an expert with women, so it’s not like I have some grand player reputation to ruin.
Danny basically brought a squirt gun to a gunfight.
I was going to save some of this material for my upcoming memoir, but since no one else wants to call Danny out, I’ll have to do it myself. Like Sunshine, Danny is a fraud. He claims to be a master PUA, but having seen him in action, I can confidently say he has no skills with women whatsoever. All he does is mack on everything with a pair of breasts until he stumbles across the one girl who’s horny/drunk/desperate enough to give him a pity fuck. Furthermore, while he brags about closing “Playboy models” and the like, I’ve seen nudes of his lays, which include a fat Indian stripper with a mustache and “Worm Tits,” a girl with hideously sagging and chewed-up breasts.
As one of my friends said, “Danny puts the ‘4’ in ‘504,’ and that’s being generous.”
It’s pretty obvious why Danny barely gets laid, and then only with crack whore strippers; he has the social skills of an autistic middle schooler. He enticed us all to organize a meetup in New Orleans by promising stuff that he never delivered on (he deleted all his posts about the meetup in true cowardly fashion, but he couldn’t outwit the Wayback Machine). Danny promised a balcony apartment for the parades and it didn’t happen. He originally promised to help drive us around the city but repeatedly refused, only relenting once because his mother put him up to it (and later that night he ended up sticking us with a $100 cab fare). Moreover, he refused to help us when we actually needed him. On Saturday night, when Dr. Illusion, the Mistress, BA and myself got separated from the rest of the crew in downtown New Orleans and couldn’t contact them due to cell tower overload, we called Danny at home to give us a lift (all the cabs in the city were booked).
His response? “You’re not my responsibility, fuck off and find your own ride.”
This was compounded by the fact that I’d twisted my ankle earlier in the day and could barely walk. Half the time, Dr. Illusion and BA had to help me limp around.
And despite refusing to help his actual friends (with the exception of Jeremy Sploosh, BA and myself, everyone at the Mardi Gras meetup already knew each other in real life), Danny has plenty to time to thirst on girls he’s never met. In particular, he has a fixation on Kaitlyn Sploosh, Jeremy’s woman. The night before I came to New Orleans, Danny blew Mitch and Jeremy off at 10:30 pm to go home, drunk dial Kaitlyn and shit talk Jeremy to her for 30 minutes. Stay classy.
It gets worse: Danny has stalked and threatened other bloggers. Nearly two years ago, I gave Danny my number after he name-dropped a few other bloggers that I trusted; I was eager to make real-life connections with other manospherians. Despite me explicitly telling him that I could only pick up the phone between 8-11pm Central (as I was working in the North Dakota oil fields and had to be in bed by 11), I get him dialing me at midnight, one in the morning, two in the morning and other ridiculous times. When I finally was able to answer his call, he droned on for two hours rehashing The Mystery Method barely letting me get a word in edgewise. I eventually had to forcefully cut him off so I could get back home and sleep.
I later compared notes with a few other guys and found out that Danny had done the exact same thing to them, with the double whammy of learning that he was collecting other bloggers’ personal info and putting it in a “dossier.” Yet when anyone calls Danny out on his propensity for leaking peoples’ private identities, he flips out into a rage. Here’s a quote from another of Danny’s victims:
As it turns out, if you don’t answer a phone call from Danny, he calls again and again, up to five times in a row, one after another, without leaving voice mail. He has, on multiple occasions, drunk dialed me 5x at 2AM (Pacific time) to tell me how much of a better writer he is than I am, how much he “doesn’t need to read other people’s blogs because he invents game,” or how he doesn’t “want to be in the EP but he can help if we’ll only let him.” This was enough to convince me to sever all association with him. Ignoring him largely worked, although he would periodically call 5x and send texts.
Finally, Danny is directly responsible for two of the manosphere’s best writers—Bronan the Barbarian! and a certain other individual I cannot name, though he headed up one of the most popular ‘sphere blogs in his day—being forced to quit under threat of being outed. In the latter case, Danny was responsible for that blogger being forced to quit twice, the first time through carelessly letting his real identity slip, and the second through an act so cowardly and disgusting that I can’t repeat it here, only to say that it’s something no honest man would ever do. As for Bronan, I’m friends with him in real life and Danny’s stalking has cost him thousands of dollars a year in lost income.
Given all this, it’s so fitting that he’s going to the mat for Sunshine Thiry. Two peas in a pod, two frauds getting each others’ backs. Hey Danny, maybe if you white knight a little harder for Sunshine, she’ll let you touch her boobies!
Entombed in the Shrine of Zeroes and Ones
And fucker, if you say one more fucking thing about Kate, I am gonna find you and beat your fucking ass. Kate is in the manosphere exactly for the same reasons other people are. She finds the current culture to be a fucking lie and that women are sold a line of shit just like men. Sorry if she believes that after being educated in this doctrine, then she would believe any relationship she could possibly have would be with a guy who has the same beliefs she has. If you want to call that a groupie then fine, your prerogative. Stupid, but your prerogative.
Ponder the thought of an arthritic old man threatening physical violence against someone more than half his age. I laughed so hard at this that my dormmate probably thought I was nuts. Top that, motherfucker.
I’ve gained a reputation as the guy who criticizes people who go off on the manosphere. When MattC over at The 3 Bromigos wrote a post about his disillusionment with the manosphere, I recorded a podcast offering a polite rebuttal. (Matt later complimented me for being the only one who didn’t go nuts on him, doubly so seeing as he mentioned me by name in his article.) When Dr. Illusion was threatening to quit based on the direction the ‘sphere was going in, I talked him back into writing again.
Now I’m thinking it was all a waste.
I’m not anonymous. I have a current picture of myself on my About page and social media networks. I’ve never claimed to be “alpha” or a ladies’ man. I’ve been open about my past, how I used to be a loser, and how my current writing focuses on my journey in self-improvement. I’ve never hidden any of this. Anyone who thinks I’m fronting is reading their own biases into my writing. I’ve met countless fellow writers—the Naughty Nomad, Jack Donovan, Mitch Sturges, W.F. Price, Kid Strangelove etc.—who will vouch for my authenticity.
But if you associate with trash, then people will assume you are trash.
Let’s face it: not only was Roosh right about the manosphere, he was damned courageous for denouncing it when he did, when he knew it would piss people off. It’s that kind of courage that’s enabled him to not only survive close to a decade of blogging, but make it into his full-time job. I disagree with Roosh on many things, but a man as successful as him (in making money, in picking up women, in becoming a better writer etc.) is a man whose opinions you should take seriously.
A friend of mine once referred to Danny from 504 as “the cancer of the manosphere.” That cancer has now metastasized to the vital organs. When revolting degenerates like Sunshine and Philip Thiry are held up as exemplars of traditional values, when Klonopin-popping midgets like Danny are allowed to spit fake advice, when everyone is eager to suck Tucker Max’s dick in the hope of getting a link or two back to their blogs, it’s obvious that no amount of chemo will save this doggy.
Time to drag it out behind the shed and put one between its eyes.
The manosphere today is primarily comprised of losers, weirdos and freaks. Cuckold fetishists who orbit Red Pill Women™ begging for stories of them getting fucked by their oh-so-alpha hubbies. Keyboard players who’d rather hate-masturbate to the latest Jezebel article then do something interesting with their lives. 30-year old virgins who lecture other men about “hypergamy” and “solipsism.” Plain Jane groupies who flash their panties at men in exchange for little pats on the head. And they’ll all gladly support frauds, so long as those frauds tell them what they want to hear.
The only thing we’re missing is a limp-wristed cult leader like Mike Anissimov who thinks he can establish a reactionary commune in the Rockies despite having no practical or organizational skills.
For the past couple weeks, I’ve been on a pseudo-break from the Internet. I unfollowed everyone on Twitter and Facebook and uninstalled the apps from my phone. I reduced the number of blogs in my RSS reader to just the few I have linked here. (There will be a few more that I’ll add back when my sabbatical ends in a couple weeks.) To be frank, I don’t feel like I’m missing much.
I spent this past weekend in a church in Buffalo, pounding $3 PBRs and watching St. Vincent shred her guitar. You know what I love about going to shows in that city? If you need to go to the bathroom, the people around you will remember where you were and let you back in when you return. Anywhere else, you need to commit minor acts of violence just to keep your spot. Over the weekend, I also met a French girl who was hitchhiking to California, bunked with a Chinese backpacker who was toting a full-on PC across America, and finished reading four books.
According to the manosphere, the French girl is a hypergamous slut, Annie Clark is a feminist bitch and the Chinese guy is a hopeless beta. Yet somehow, I can enjoy the richness of the human experience without feeling the need to pick nits. The world is screwed up, yet I leave my house every day looking forward to what happens next. There are people to meet, books to read, songs to record and asses to kick.
The manosphere is the intellectual equivalent of plucking turds out of a toilet bowl, then waving them in everyone’s faces screaming “LOOK AT ALL THIS SHIT! DOESN’T THIS SUCK???!!1”
Well, I’m sorry, but I’ve got better things to do then get feces stuck under my fingernails. I’m going to keep writing, but I’m turning my back on the manosphere. There are writers I will continue to read and respect, many of whom I consider my friends, but the ‘sphere as a whole is out of my life. There will no doubt be people who continue to associate me with the manosphere, but there are also people who call me a “PUA” and/or an “MRA.”
To paraphrase Jesus, the morons you will always have with you.
To the men reading this (i.e. not the whiny anti-feminist crybabies), it’s time for you to take action. You have the tools to get jacked, get laid, get paid. Past a certain point, reading blogs about those subjects is a waste. Get off your computers. Talk to some girls. Go swimming. Start a rock band. Backpack across Europe. Write a book. Do a rail of crank. Found a small business. Join a gym. Start the World.
And leave the crybabies to blubber in their basements.
In a bizarre coincidence, St. Vincent’s latest album is in part about how the Internet is altering human relationships for the worse. Watch the video. Read the lyrics. Then go out and kick some ass.
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