First off, if this doesn't belong here, I apologize. I'm frustrated and need to vent to some like-minded individuals, and you guys are probably the only group on Reddit who won't blast me and call me a misogynist pig. Who knows, maybe I was the fuck-up. My ego doubts that, though. As always, constructive criticism is always apologized.

The evening started out nice spent with my girlfriend. I really care about that girl. We've got a pretty healthy relationship (much thanks to this, helped me figure out my shit and remain a desirable mate). We have a lot of fun together and "copulate" like rabbits, without the reproduction bit.

I suppose now that I'm done with my little bit of gloating, I can get to my frustration. After our nice evening, her roommate got back. Her roommate is apparently a depressed, OCD-tended individual, who's a relatively feminist English major. She typically pisses me off since she walks all-over my girlfriend's kindness and sets bullshit curfews for us being at their place (because when she has shit to do, noone is allowed there, but when my girlfriend has shit to do, their whole friend-group is invited over by the roommate, and apparently there is nothing wrong with that. The avoider of conflict she is, my girlfriend never brings up her issues with the roommate, but that's other issue, which shouldn't and can't be handled here). Anyway, as I was getting ready to leave since the clock struck the magical hour, one of them (probably the roommate, but I can't quite remember) said something that reminded me about today's German literature class. I rehashed what Kleist said in his Die Marquise von O (pretty good Novella if you have the time to read and find it). Essentially the reader is lead to believe a rape took place, but, because it's Kleist, it's not quite clear whether or not it was actually a rape, and that nothing is ever clear and, furthermore, there's a porous distinction between desire and violence. I was trying to explain that, in the context of this 19th century novel.

But! I said the magic word "rape," and all of a sudden, I (and Kleist too) am arguing that rape isn't all that bad and I'm citing this book as my evidence, not trying to explain it. Then I'm told I have no empathy (though, the jury's still out on that one, I might be a sociopath, who knows) and not looking at this book in the right way (read in 20th/21st century feminist interpretation). I'm told that I need to do more reading on the subject and rethink all my thoughts, because I'm wrong. I'm fucking sick and tired of being told that I am wrong (and I will admit that sometimes I am wrong, but I usually realize that, since I'm an adult and self-correcting), the people telling me that never once seem to consider that they are wrong, or misunderstood me. I'm sick of being told I'll never understand since I'm a white, heterosexual, middle-class male (not to disenfranchise any other raced (there's really not a good way to put that) readers, bi- or homosexual readers, readers of upper- and lower-class statuses, or an women who may be reading, just hashing out the things I've heard in college) and that, therefore, though I'm allowed to have opinions, they count for shit in everyone else's book. I'm also sick of being told that men shouldn't mindread the sexual wants of women (I suppose fair enough, in the context of the conversation), but then I am some how supposed to divine the personal backgrounds of people before I say stuff as to not offend them, when, this being an individual I would consider a friend, someone I knew pretty well, they didn't offer anything up (granted it's a difficult topic, but it's not fair to assume that I'm just going to know and need to be gentle about it). Apparently, the double-standard is missed (although, the roommate misses the double-standards she has with my girlfriend, so I don't know why I would expect anything else).

I apologize for the diatribe and the monstrous parenthetical statements. Thanks for listening to me.

TL;DR: Pretty decent evening ruined because I was misunderstood and then all my frustrations with college feminists bubbled up.