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Chapter 12:
On the Brink of Tragedy
Radical Feminism as a Plague (Expanded)
The Demographic Crisis and the Collapse of European Civilization
The Migration Crisis
A Real Alternative for Germany
At first glance, it may seem that this book is about my intrigues. It is not. I am actively searching for a lover, a partner, and a wife because I have been living for five years in a different world—a world where the concept of family has become uninteresting to anyone. A world in which my ex-wife lost her reason and threw me out of the apartment. Tired of me? Maybe. But that’s not the point. She became infected with the local virus and fully adopted the behavior patterns of European women. She stopped sleeping with me and didn’t want to work (this is not typical of German women). This is how the virus manifests itself in Russians who become infected with it. I didn’t bore her; I simply became unnecessary.
After the divorce, in phone conversations, she reminds me that she is not my property, that slavery is over, and that she is not my bedside table. That is: “I am a strong, independent woman.” In the German version, it works like this—“I am an independent German woman.” But German women work. Russian women, Turkish women, and Muslim women under this feminism, for the most part, do not work. They mostly live on welfare and alimony. I recently spoke with a Turkish acquaintance—the same situation. Thrown out. My German friend Dominik lives in a hotel. Thrown out of the apartment.
My ex-wife sits all day in an armchair reading an e-book. She watches me on social media and hates me. She cooks for the children, cleans the apartment, and goes back to the armchair. She imprisoned herself. She has no friends; on the phone she talks to an old friend from Odessa. I try to talk to her, but it doesn’t work. Once I found her on Tinder (a dating site). She wants to meet someone. That’s normal—human instincts haven’t been canceled. But I am sure she will find no one here. Not the right level. And I won’t find anyone either. So we will gradually grow old in different armchairs, in different cities. But we have children—we must live for them.
Yes, yes. This plague called cursed radical feminism killed our family. My family could no longer exist in a society where the culture of family is suppressed.
I lost my wife. She is mortally wounded and does not want to hear me. Fell out of love? Maybe. But if she fell out of love with me, then why do other Russian and Ukrainian wives here also fall out of love with their husbands? There is only one answer—the Plague of Feminism.
Yesterday on Instagram I came across several photos from a party. One of the women there is a distant acquaintance of mine. Five German women gathered to drink wine and play with their dogs. One brought a small monster to another—something that replaces a child. And it’s not that there’s no one to have children with. It’s simply difficult and unnecessary. Laziness. A child interferes with a career, a child needs care, and it’s for life. But with a dog, you can just play and pick up its painfully familiar and warm feces in the park during walks. At the party they put baby diapers on the dogs and made bibs for them. One of the women asked me:
“Denis, how do you feel about Germany being overcrowded with foreigners?”
“It’s because of you,” answered the foreigner Denis.
“What do I have to do with it?”
“I am a foreigner myself, and I am not afraid of the migration crisis in Europe. But remember—if you had given birth to even one child, there would be one fewer foreigner in Germany. It’s mathematics. Foreigners are here because you haven’t been giving birth for forty years.”
I am not against a dog in a family. But there should be a law: a dog is allowed only if there are at least two children in the family. Then we’ll see whether feminists have time left for dogs.
Why dogs and not cats? After all, women have always been closer to cats. Writers and artists even compared women to gentle, graceful cats. But a cat is an independent and cunning creature. If you mistreat it, it will leave immediately. A dog will not. For a dog, the owner—male or female—is God. A dog obeys unconditionally and endures all the whims and psychological issues of its owner.
So here it is. Feminists get dogs for two reasons. First—to replace a child. Second—to have someone to command. A child is complicated; a dog is not. You feed it, walk it, leave it at home, and go to work. When the dog gets annoying, you send it to its place and, for example, play with a vibrator. When you’re bored, you pat the pillow and the devoted creature is right there. Had enough—back to your place. You can command a dog endlessly. And most importantly—the dog cannot answer back.
As a rule, they choose harmless breeds. I have never seen Rottweilers here, let alone pit bulls. These breeds, if abused, can one day bite off a piece of your head. Once I saw a feminist walking a dog and yanking it by the leash to make it walk beside her. She yanked it so hard the dog fell onto the asphalt. She picked it up and did it again—many times. She was abusing the animal. I watched carefully. At the moment the dog tucked its tail and was terrified, its owner experienced orgasm. This madness is everywhere, and the worst part is that no one raises this issue. Men are afraid to touch this topic.
German women say: “I live with a dog because all men are assholes and masturbators.” I have heard this personally many times. I started arguing, but the Germans who were with me stayed silent. Insults from women are absolutely normal for them. Another vicious circle. That’s why they’re “weak”—because they stay silent.
In Dortmund, I had neighbors—the Werner family. Or rather, it wasn’t a family, but Frau Werner with a small husband who ran behind her carrying bags. Of course, not all German families are like this, not all German men are small and not all run behind—but the essence is the same. When she scolded me about a bicycle in the courtyard, he also whispered something from behind her broad back, afraid to startle his owner. The bicycle wasn’t mine, and in the end Frau Werner and I laughed a lot. Now we are friends. I told this short story to a German female friend, and she said: “Great! It’s good that Herr Werner is like a little dog with his wife.” Frau Werner brought her husband to a heart attack a couple of times. An ambulance came. I think he’s already dead.
German women, hiding behind false equality, have turned their husbands into obedient subordinates. But they give them candy—football and beer. I’ve already written about this; I won’t repeat myself. There is no place for children in such families. They are simply not needed there. European women do not want to give birth to children with men they do not respect. Radical feminism empties German families. Men who are not ready to be henpecked live alone. We see them in brothels. But children must be born. How?
“The higher the standard of living in a country, the later a woman becomes a mother. This fact has long been obvious and requires no proof. Having the opportunity to study and work on an equal footing with men, women push family concerns related to motherhood into the background. They strive to get an education and build a career, and only then think about family. The level of medicine in Germany allows women to give birth to their first child even at 40. That’s exactly what many mothers do. However, not all of them can get pregnant at that age. Late motherhood is another factor reducing the number of children in German families.”
This is a quote from one article—but it’s only one reason. I know many women who neither built a career nor had children. Simply laziness. For example, here is another quote: