It’s 2005. Do you know where your feminists are?
They’re sure as shit not at St. Mary’s College in Indiana, sister school of Notre Dame. There appears to be but inchoate appreciation for feminist theory or analysis in this institution of higher learning, not to mention an hysterical fear of female body hair, and a unusual reverence for the brassiere. By this account in the student newspaper, St. Mary’s is a patriarchy-friendly environment where “being a feminist mean[s] having hairy legs and burning bras,” two vile satanist aberrations with which the student body are definitely NOT down.
For instance, rigorous depilation and a life of dutiful servility to her master are apparently what constitute fully-realized humanity for one St. Mary’s junior, whose “image of a feminist is an extremist — someone who does not shave or believe in the institution of marriage.”
“A man,” she opines, a soft pink glow gleaming from her Jesus-kissed Catholic cheeks, “should take care of his wife and children.”
Another student remarks that feminism is about “empowering” women, but not, apparently, to the extent that she should be allowed to set fire to undergarments. She puts it this way: “Too often in our world, feminism is that dirty “F” word connoting man-hating femi-nazis and bra-burning wenches.”
Again with the bra-burning. You’d think these bras were the fucking Shroud of Turin the way these honky bitches obsess about preserving them from arson-crazy — excuse me, did you say”wenches”? yeah? — wenches. Why hasn’t anybody told these rabid femaphobic teens that nobody has actually bothered to burn a bra since, I don’t know, 1973, and even then, the women in question were pretty much the opposite of wenches?
Nowadays, if a radical feminist buys a bra, she wears it until it falls apart, because it fucking cost 50 bucks.
By the way, the erudite collegian using the epithets “femi-nazis” and “bra-burning wenches” to describe the bottom of the radical subhuman lesbo man-hating barrel was young Katie Kelly, student director of the Saint Mary’s College Women’s Resource Center. I was unable to obtain her email address for comment, but I have no doubt that Katie is deeply protective of the brassière because she equates it morally with precious human embryonic material, the sanctity of the death penalty, and the evils that medical marijuana might wreak upon bedeviled cancer patients. What a peach! Are there any more like you at home, Katie?