Interesting argument. The thing of it is, I have no doubt there are plenty of people who recognize that many women are imbued with authentic virtues, that they are capable of sweetness and warmth. That we are involuntarily celibate, that we desperately would like relationships with women, seems to be proof enough we realize these things. And yes, though the men here will often examine miserable relationships as they struggle to make sense of the intricate ways in which men and women interact with each other, they also acknowledge that there are happy relationships and we incels covet such experiences more than greedy Midas would have envied Mammon's hoard.
The dilemma facing us miserable incels is that though the Eternal Feminine has many faces, both beautiful and horrible, she's only willing to reveal the latter variety to us. You point out that the people here, being undesirable, know little more about women than the fact they have no desire for us. I won't grant that entirely, but let's assume that's the case. That means that we abominations have no access to the good things that women provide, and I'm not merely referring to sex. The visceral hatred the Eternal Feminine harbors toward ugliness pervades the spirit of every woman and informs each of her interactions with men. For a repulsive man to suggest he is worthy of enjoying a woman's virtues is an affront to her sense of self-worth. You don't cast pearls before swine because, being beautiful things, are far too valuable to cast before filthy, inhuman beasts. Every rejection is tinged with contempt, with some women expressing it with more politesse than others. The response could be unabashed outrage and nasty laughter, saccharine condescension or, in the softest of expressions, a gentle kind of pity. Regardless, these are merely variations on a single theme, aren't they, they are permutations of a basic truth: one has been judged regarding his suitability to receive affection and found wanting. This is a fundamentally negative and painful experience and, by your own admission, the only one many of the men here have ever had with a woman. You also admit you have no direct experience with women; given that, it's presumptuous to assume that their pain is counterfeit instead of very real hurt arising from very real interactions with the fairer sex. Faust's greatest fear, the terror that inspired his worst nightmares, was recognizing he had no right to instruct his students about things he had no knowledge of but found himself in the unenviable position of having to pretend to do so anyway. There's much to be learned from the good doctor's humility.
It's also unfair to assume that most of the unfortunates here have dreamed up some hideous caricature of women as they languish alone in deep eremetic isolation, like St. Anthony assailed by the succubi who tormented him as he dwelt in the wilderness. Many of us are adults or, well, at least parodies of adults who have tasted the responsibilities of life and all of its nastiness but none of its most basic pleasures. We are often employed, have female coworkers who we interact with everyday. We see, with our very own eyes, the difference between the way we are treated compared to the handsome men working alongside of us. We can't help but note that regardless of our talents, the women we are employed with and, sometimes by, treat us nothing more utilities regardless of how talented or dedicated we may be. Their purported kindness lasts only so long as we remain valuable tools; fall short, and that courtesy evaporates. There is no room for forgiveness when a mistake is made, no hint of sympathy; we are reprimanded severely. Our handsome coworkers, on the other hand, are provided no end of latitude and even a severe infraction is met with a smile and a second chance, and a third, and so on.
We, being unlovely, are creatures best suited to darkness where the contours of our disgusting faces can't be perceived. However, we need to survive and have no choice but to trespass into the daylight world. Eating at a restaurant with a handsome friend, we can't help but notice that the waitress serves that friend impeccably, with nothing but flirtatious laughs while she treats us coldly, just another burden to be endured. We wait in some shop's checkout line and watch the clerk enthusiastically chat with the attractive fellow in front of us, only to watch her broad smile vanish the moment he departs and we take his place.
Scandalous notion that you may find it, there are some of us who have had women as friends. Some very dear friends. Yet, the friendship a woman has with a lovely man is essentially different than the one she has with a revolting one, even if each party wants nothing more than a platonic relationship with the other. The specter of sex is always looming, haunting every interaction. A woman you've spent hours and hours with discussing art, philosophy and religion will still act with indignation and disgust if anyone suggests the relationship is anything approaching intimate and the moment your companionship suggests she's unavailable to the men she actually desires, well, the friendship quickly ends. So much for all of those heartfelt conversations that lasted from dusk until the first light of dawn; the joys of the spirit and mind are ethereal, ephemeral, and are so less substantial and satisfying than those of the flesh.
Given your lack of interaction with women, I understand why you look at the opinions of the men here with a jaundiced eye. However, if you're truly as unattractive as you believe yourself to be, don't be surprised if you revise your opinion once you at long last reach out to the Eternal Feminine and find your hand viciously slapped away and Her scrubbing Her hands vigorously to remove the taint of your touch a moment later.
No, "not all women are like that". But if you truly belong to our tribe, we monsters who are beyond any hope of being loved, you'll learn very quickly that all women are like that to us.