Just a few final remarks on the Male Feminist chimera, after which I’ll swill my own hot cup of Shut The Fuck Up.
[Just joining us? The plot so far: In series of increasingly asinine comments on recent post, 20-something porn-loving white dude claims feminist cred. Smackdown ensues. White dude issues apology here; readers divided on whether to forgive and forget. Meanwhile, author posits that, re: male involvement in women’s liberation from male oppression, dudes can support cause all they like as long as they stay fuck out of way.]
One of my points was that it’s easy for men to “support” feminist causes, since ultimately it’s not their ass on the line. Apparently I was sorely mistaken on this. One commenter, who identifies as a “male ally,” wrote that he wouldn’t mind a little “recognition”—of what sort and from whom I cannot fathom—for his pro-feminist habit of sauntering around town sticking up for women whenever he encounters guys engaging in “misogynist bullshit.” He contends that his ass is indeed on the line, because the thankless practice of suggesting to men that women are human actually puts him at risk for physical assault (unfortunately, he did not enlighten the group as to the precise nature of his pro-feminist sojourns—does he tag misogynist billboards under cover of darkness? Does he chuck Molotov cocktails into strip clubs? Does he inform Kyle, his cubicle-mate, that it’s rude to leave Xeroxes of his ass on Stacy’s desk, and then run for his life?—or whether any such assaults had ever actually occurred).
I feel this dude’s hypothetical pain, though, because what a coincidence! Physical assault is precisely what I found myself at risk for just last night! I was engaged in the super-sexy provocative take-me-now act of waiting at a long, deserted stoplight alone in my convertible, listening to AC Newman and minding my own fucking business. In the next lane rolled up a Ford F-150 ClodCab full of shirtless white fucks yelling through a cloud of reefer, “Nice car, baby! Take me for a ride!” It’s times like those when I am pleased that the Twistmobile is fleet of rubber, and that on abandoned straightaways at midnight can hit 70 MPH before red-lining in 2nd gear while I flip the bird at rapidly receding truckfuls of asswipes.
But I digress.
Possible bodily injury gone unrecognized by ungrateful feminists may indeed be vexing this guy, but if it is, he’s not letting on. Jeff Passan, the guy in question, is a sports writer who demonstrates the principle of Speaking Out Against Honky Male Oppression While Not (as far as I know) Demanding To Get His Ass Kissed For It. His article illuminates the rampant misogyny in major league baseball with a brief profile of Kim Ng, sexism-plagued female assistant general manager for the Dodgers. One of the highlights is his description of professional knob Keith Hernandez’s professional knobbery:
When New York Mets broadcaster Keith Hernandez saw San Diego Padres massage therapist Kelly Calabrese in the dugout, referred to her as a ‘girl,’ asked ‘What’s going on here?’ and followed with ‘You have to be kidding me,’ only to top himself with this doozy:
‘I won’t say that women belong in the kitchen, but they don’t belong in the dugout.’
I won’t say that pigs belong in the pen, but they don’t belong in the broadcast booth.
Passan goes on to summarize the reason this spinster aunt would rather have root canal than sit through a major league sporting event of any kind:
“Of course, that someone in baseball disparaged women was more a matter-of-time issue than an isolated incident. The baseball environment rewards male empowerment and breeds sexism. It’s a Petri dish for testosterone.”
Mercifully, Passan’s knight in shining armor rhetoric doesn’t quite rise to the level of that Kristof guy from the New York Times who emotes on behalf of Pakistani rape victim-turned-activist-turned-political-prisoner Mukhtaran Bibi. He merely quotes Ng as admitting she’s resigned to the debilitating sexism she encounters in her professional life, and comments, “Baseball should be embarrassed that one of its bright young minds must weather such ignorance by internalizing it.”
That’s all it takes, dudes. Say it, don’t spray it.