But such optimistic hopes were short-lived. This "new age" died a quick and pitiless
death, a squirming victim sacrificed on the altar of female greed. As business boomed
and diversified in the late 70's and early 80's, and baby-boomer men prospered, the fires
of avarice began once again to blaze up fiercely in female hearts. The mercenary
opportunities of their gender nagged insistently at these young revolutionaries, and their
mothers' words haunted them with timeworn advice: why should men buy the cow if they
can have the milk for free? Ironically the equal rights movement, with its emphasis on
individual freedom and gender parity, had somehow spawned an evil twin sister. Fueled
by an all encompassing anger and avarice, a renegade self-serving feminism had spun off
the old one, a greed-ridden parody of a noble ideal. It sanctioned women to become even
more selfish and demanding of men than their mothers had been. Now they wanted their
cake and eat it, too: while they marched for equal rights and equal pay, they still expected
men to take care of their needs, and they still offered the bait of their bodies to plunder
male wallets. Feminism didn't free the ordinary woman; it simply gave blunt franchise to
But the future promised an even blacker forecast. By the mid 80's, female arrogance had
spread like a virulent cancer, and women had begun to assess men not as equals, but as
inferiors. A woman's version of equal rights had turned into "pay for me-and pay a lotwithout
question". I am woman, you owe me. The cute conniving of their mothers had
had its day; coldly trading the use of her body for big money had become a woman's
business. Instead of "if it feels good, do it", now it was "if it feels good, sell it". Make
cash, not love. Whoredom was back, and this time with a vengeance.
In comparison to this unbounded greed, Vilar's women seemed like schoolgirls making
cow-eyes at Daddy to con him out of extra allowance. At least her housewives were more
honest prostitutes, selling themselves within the context of the social norm, more or less
under the aegis of societal blessing. But these new whores had emerged as the most
flagrant of hypocrites, parading themselves as emancipated, yet still insisting on cash for
sex, then refusing to admit the reality of their prostitution.
This is an incendiary book. It takes up where Esther Vilar left off twenty-five years ago.
The primary targets of its criticisms are single and divorced women, since they are the
most egregious offenders in regarding mate selection and dating as a whore-john
relationship. In these times of rampant inflation and rising housing costs, economic
realities force many married women to go to work-kicking and screaming against their
will, of course-in order to help support a family. Still, quite a few women live off the hard
work of their husbands, contributing nothing to the marriage but high bills and an
occasional lay. At these prostitutes this book is aimed as well.
Male readers will applaud the conclusions of Sex-Ploytation, and will cheer that at long
last someone has found the courage to rip the mask off female duplicity to ransom men,
emancipating them from their chains of frustration and sexual slavery. Female readers
will doubtless be outraged. Some will predictably rant and rave that the book is "antiwoman";
others, threatened by the exposure of their manipulations, will bury their heads
in the sands of disbelief and denial. But truth is truth; it exists independent of wishful
thinking. All of us are guilty of egoistic provincialism; all of us rigorously defend the
battlements of our illusions. Women are especially skilled in such fantasies, preferring
magical thinking over naked reality. They are herd creatures, naively following whatever
direction society leads them. Seemingly incapable of independent thought, they troop
along the path of least resistance, entranced by a kind of hypnosis which allows them to
disavow any responsibility for their actions. It takes far less effort to warm the bed of a
millionaire than to earn a million dollars yourself. It is much less expensive to pretend to
be a tragic victim of a "male-dominated" society than to pay for your own dinner.
Even though, like The Manipulated Man, this book is sure to be denounced as misogynist
literature, it has no interest in hating women or in female-bashing. It is not motivated by
anger or bitterness, or even cynicism. To come to such a conclusion is, as above, to
follow a path of least resistance. It is, rather, a book of uncensored observations of human
behavior, and so is not an agenda-ridden manifesto, as is so typical of anti-male literature.
The conclusions written here may be inflammatory, perhaps even menacing, but they are
culled from real life and real experience, and therefore cannot be denied nor disproved.
The true purpose of this book is not to despise women, but to shine a harsh light on their
mercenary behavior, and to expose this behavior to uncompromising scrutiny. With any
luck, this book will inspire social change; at worst it will push a little farther along the
trail blazed by Esther Vilar two-and a-half decades ago.