By the time you log off your computer tonight, you will have seen more assholes than your proctologist sees in a week. As women are wont to point out, the Internet asshole seems to be a strictly male phenomenon. Are women right? I'm not sure but 10 months of marriage have taught me one valuable lesson: it is better to concede than to argue with a woman.

On the surface, the anger of the white man seems quite ridiculous.  We lead 98% of the companies in the Fortune 500, control an overwhelming portion of our nation's wealth as well as half of the White House. But to hear the Rush Limbaughs and Sean Hannities of the AM dial tell it, you would imagine President Obama is on the verge of reenacting the antebellum days, only this time it will be our wrists and ankles in shackles.

We're angry, I’ll grant you that, but can you really blame us for our bitterness?  We've suffered the most precipitous fall from grace since God booted Adam from the Garden of Eden. Truth is, we had it even better than Adam. Eve merely handed him the forbidden apple and made him eat it, peel and all. What a bitch compared to our dear old moms who carefully peeled and sliced our apples for us, lest we risk a chipped tooth.

Our anger arises because we middle class American white males start out with a life previously available only to royalty and animated Disney characters. Dirty clothes we left on the floor as a child magically appeared the next morning freshly laundered and neatly folded in our dresser drawer. What we initially took for magic, we later found out to be the handiwork our mothers: the very women who also cooked our meals, chauffered us to Little League and punched out the occassional teacher who dared disrespect us. Our fathers meanwhile paid for our first car, our first set of braces and if we were really spoiled, our first time, too.

I hate to admit it but I guess we had it better than royalty too. Ever watch SuperNanny? The kids have it made until the Nanny moves in. Even Mary Poppins could be a hard-ass when it came to diction. Remember Braveheart? Kings could be downright cruel to their sons as well.  Ivan the Terrible even murdered his heir which puts our not getting the car keys on a Friday night into proper perspective. Princes are expected to serve their countries while we American white boys are only expected to serve to our own wants and desires.

Is it any wonder we throw online temper tantrums when 68 percent of our parents admit to spoiling us?

The anger issues arise after college when our mothers expect us to leave the nest without giving us the first lesson in flight. We end up crashing faster than a child star who hits puberty. But unlike Danny Bonaduce, we lack the cache to land a string of VH1 CelebReality gigs.

For every spoiled mama’s boy, there is a daddy’s princess. Yet the anger of the white man seems alien to the typical white woman, Sarah Palin excluded, and even she seems to be reading off cue cards written by angry white men half the time.

We men tend to take the online world more seriously than women because it is our only outlet for self-expression and attention while women have many ways to garner attention off-line that are unavailable to us. For instance, if a woman exposes her breasts in public she gets a free hat, a complimentary video and the chance to see herself every commercial break on Man Show reruns. If a man exposes his privates in public he gets one measly feature on the local news and an awkward new court-enforced way to introduce himself to the neighbors.

Married women get a daily Oprah pep talk and if they chose wisely, a husband that fawns over them. Unless we move to Iowa, that’s not happening for us men. Single girls get to enjoy the comforts of sisterhood and female bonding. The only male bonding that ever occurs happens in the dungeon room of the bathhouse.

Male bonds also tend to be more superficial. I work in a family owned business with my father, uncle and male cousins. When my aunt was diagnosed with breast cancer, none of my family told me. I found out via my fiancée, who happened to work with my aunt at the time. When the cancer returned a year later, guess who told me? Yes, my fiancée again.

The life of the white man is one fraught with often contradictory expectations. We’re expected to be both the playboy and the faithful husband; the cool professional and the loving father; the breadwinner who’s home in time for dinner; the corporate climber but not the workaholic; and the tough guy who’s sensitive too.

Could anyone possibly live up to these expectations? Yet this is what’s expected of the American man. Our everyday lives are ones of quiet desperation. Who do we have to confide in? Certainly not each other as that would break our vaunted tough guy code of never discussing one’s feelings. What about women and minorities? After oppressing both parties for hundreds of years, it would make for awkward conversation to confide our feelings of inadequacy with either group today.

So we suffer alone. The anonymity of the Internet provides our only release. Next time you wonder why we act like such dicks, just read this post to remind you.