The suitably depressing view from CafÃ© Mundi, from which bastion of alter-native East Austin coffeehouse hipness (at the table next to us there were four people chatting in French, for crying out loud) I conducted some recreational blaming yesterday afternoon over a cup of Americabastardo (1/2 regular drip, 1/2 decaf Americano), which I almost immediately spilled on the hapless Stingray on accounta I got no couth, which was also depressing.
It’s been a fabulously painful few years for the patriarchy-blamer, both professional and hobbyist alike. From time to time we may hear of some small victory, such as the convictions in the Haidl rape case or the legalization of homo marriage in Spain, but no sooner do we pop the cork on our celebratory bottle of Prosecco than 38,907 glowing examples of white male supremacy sprout up like nukular kudzu to choke out our paltry success. The Patriot Act. Abu Ghraib. Global warming. The bankrupting of the country to pay for an illegal vanity war. “Car Talk.” And most recently, the slew of unconstitutional, theocratic legislations that dehumanize women in every possible way.
In other words, we’re losing. We don’t even have a decent pundit, for chrissake. Go on. Name one.
But we patriarchy-blamers thrive on punishment. If we didn’t, we’d all be getting boob jobs so we could seek empoweringly dude-pleasing employment in strip clubs, instead of making internet pronouncements on the eroision of women’s autonomy that either preach to the choir or attract priapic teenage boys who think we just need one up the ass. So, as a punishment-glutton blamer, if the recent atavistic fucktardage regarding abortion bans and punishing unconcious teen rape victims hasn’t sufficiently bummed you the hell out, perhaps you’ll enjoy this article at Foreign Policy. It offers a perfectly gruesome explanation as to why we’re losing. The premise: that when the intellectual elite in a given society reach a certain level of personal fulfillment, they very sensibly quit breeding. While this makes sense for them, it has the untoward effect of leaving the primitive superstitious misogynist godbags in charge of fertility. The result? A master race of primitive superstitious misogynist godbags inherits the earth, of course. If what this guy says is true, maybe it’s time we find a way to slip some dioxin into the national Hamburger Helper supply.
Breeding, breeding, breeding! I tell you, we must figure out how to get this thing done in a petrie dish!
UPDATE: There’s a many-commented (albeit mostly by dudes) and somewhat satisfying evisceration of the Foreign Policy piece at Crooked Timber (thanks, Mandos)