Dec 16 2006

Plus ça change

Because il n’y plus de nouveau sous le soleil, my dinner was again assorted vegetables sauced with a mixture of white wine, cornstarch, sugar, and a tablespoon of everything in my fridge that has a Japanese or Chinese label. Brown rice for the colon!

After receiving a hot tip that the tabloidical NY Daily News was featuring a “sexualized seven month old baby” on its cover, I ignored it for three days, because, frankly, there’s only so much shit you can fling at a spinster aunt before she begins staggering backward into the pits.

At the time I was still wiping away the clumps of despair that had collected in my furrowed brow while reviewing an ad campaign for a species of junk food. The campaign, directed at American male football fans, is called “Man Mom”. The Man Mom, a middle-aged linebacker-lookin’ dude in a frumpy wig and housecoat, likes football and feeds his kids bags of junk food, for which bounty they clasp hands and thank the lard. The website invites fans of the Man Mom to send in photos of their own ambiguously-gendered mothers, whereupon the degree of the subject’s compliance with the patriarchal femininity directive is rated by viewers. The sheer contempt for the “homemaker”– unpaid female domestic slaves — expressed by this ad series is mind-blowing.


My obstreberal lobe thusly strained, I was naturally leery of confronting the aforementioned Baby Sexbot in the Daily News. Fortunately, the wheels of the 24-hour news cycle stop for no spinster and I was too late to bask in the putrid subumbra of that particular sensational treat. Misogyny, however, marches ever onward. The NY Daily News website commences, as of this writing, with the following entertaining cavalcade of crazy or fallen or dead women stories, boom-boom-boom, beginning with a photo of Yoko Ono in a really ugly hat:

— Yoko Ono (few humans are as universally reviled for no reason at all as Yoko) is described as “Miss Crazy” in a story about a chauffer who has been jailed for trying to blackmail her out of $2 million. [here]

— Judith Regan, ‘scandal maven’ and ‘pain in the neck’, is fired by her woman boss (with whom she often had “verbal clashes”) over the OJ debacle; described as “[throwing] fits”. [here]

— Miss USA, virgin American bikinibot, is in the shithouse for doing coke, a public “kissy with teen missy,” and “sneaking men” into her apartment. A “small-town girl,” she apparently “went wild” in New York. [here]

— A “grandma” was shot to death with a 9-mil while sitting on her sofa; police are questioning her “hysterically crying” family. [here]

— A 63-year-old teacher/grandmother from Queens was run over by a BMW during her lunch break. “She was my favorite teacher!” [here]

The first three are takedowns of more or less powerful women who deserve their comeuppance for having achieved unnatural success. The last two are tear-jerky, woman-as-sentimental-repository stories. All five are the same old folktales, re-circulated, repeated, re-cast, but only minimally re-scripted, that must be told to women, about women daily.

Each contains a moral to aid the audience in patriarchy-compliance. Too much money and fame makes you a crazy old crone. Too much aggression in business gets you publicly humiliated and canned. “Goin wild” from virgin to whore can cost a princess her crown. And old grandmothers are maudlin figures, helpless innocents cruelly smote down by the hand of fate.

Every day, every day, every day, every day. Nothing changes. Nothing.


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  1. leftistlooneylunch.blogspot.com

    Well, you’ve motivated quite a lot of people Twisty and that’s gotta affect some change.


  2. norbizness.com

    The least that Murdock-owned pile of dreck could do is hook us up with some Variety-style titles, like “Hag Bagged by Slag Rag”

  3. Excellent points, Twisty. And I like Norbizness title. I wonder how many people will misunderstand your inclusion of Regan as an approval.

    Because, of course, we all wanted to know how OJ slashed that bitch to death–in every detail. And only a hissy-fit by Regan could keep us from it, which just proves how stupid every bitch is!

  4. Hags and bitches. Neat.

  5. uncomplicatedly.wordpress.com

    I’m so pleased that Man-Mom has merited a public blaming– my football-watching boyfriend was puzzled by my inarticulate shouting at the TV screen, and even moreso by my cryptic muttering that Twisty must be notified. Now I can point him to this entry for clarification. And thanks for the “carnival of pain” nod the other day; I was amused.

  6. myspace-172.vo.llnwd.net/01380/27/14/1380774172_l.jpg

    Wow, this made me so sad I had to register just to comment.

    Hags, crones, virgins, maidens, whores. They have a little box for all of us.

  7. Twisty —

    Please, please write a book. The world needs you.

  8. “Every day, every day, every day, every day. Nothing changes. Nothing.”

    Yup, every fucking day I get to look forward to which niche some asshole or asshollette shall place me into today. And then I go do what the fuck I want.

  9. unsanesafe.blogspot.com

    The recycling of mythologies is strange. Mythologies regarding women are always strange to me. Having watched part of the movie, The Devils [http://members.aol.com/streettb/krussell/devils.htm], recently I am more than usually disgusted concerning the ways that power is often used. In Australia, where everybody scrambles low to earth and is covered by the dust of penitence, we have wide distribution women’s magazines which portray a wide variety of female celebrities all with the same character structure: Emotionally and psychologically floundering, passively expecting their male significant other to overcome his selfishness and rescue them, and flittering on the boundaries of insanity as they undergo “Yet another tragedy!”. It must be that all of these stories somehow compensate for empty and depressing lives, whilst reassuring their readers that this is the basic condition of women everywhere — even the stars!

  10. Referring to my above comment, might I add, I do it with a vengeance.

  11. At some point during the 11 years Yoko Ono’s driver was employed, the “sex starved Beatle eating black widow” probably smiled at him, thus causing his patriarchal pickle juices to foment into bilious rage at the brazen indecency she flaunted with the upturned corners her deviously planted “manhole”. Who can blame a man for taking desperate measures against this hell born succubus to the tune of two million dollars? Just imagine the medical expenses he has accumulated from years of exposure to the poisonous gamma rays her goggle eyewear was emitting in the general direction of his shift stick. You don’t need a tinfoil hat to know that “Take me to Saks” means “Take me, I need Sex” in Japanese.

  12. Much as I hate to add fuel to the fires of the Twisty fact of “men hate women”, I was reminded by your fifth story of a statistic that was published here in sweden some 5 or so years ago.
    I can´t cite it with complete accuracy, but, the gist was that in accidents in which pedestrians are killed by automobiles whilst crossing at marked pedestrian crosswalks, in that the victims were women mostly of a certain age span and the drivers were men of mostly a certain age span, the results were more or less that men were busy killing off their mothers generation of women.
    A sort of darwinian spin off of technological patriarchialism where older slower non breeding women are killed of by younger virile active men in a hurry.

  13. I’m with you Ktal. I figured out thirty some years ago that I’m damned if I do and I’m damned if I don’t so, cock it, might as well do what I want.

    I think the most disturbing thing for me with the Man Mom ads is that they show how your mom would treat you if your mom was a man: uncaring, unfeeling, competitive, immature. Isn’t that just a stitch?

    Nevermind that so much of the boys’ pathology is caused by their father’s crappy parenting (i.e. the current “president” of this country). But, as we well know, there is no such thing as a good enough mother while the bar for fathers is set very, very low.

  14. Yesterday saw the saddest thing; an older, non-breeding woman crossing the road hesitantly, picking her way over the icey street while a hummer edged closser and closer, the better to save 1/10000 of a second. A hummer driven by a young woman.

  15. I’ve seen the Man-Mom ads (I like football, bite me) but I had no idea there was a “contest” attached to them. The ads are just plain stupid, like most football game ads; the contest is beyond revolting. Can we have the “effeminate Dad” picture contest next?

  16. ohprettylady.blogspot.com

    Every day, every day, every day, every day. Nothing changes. Nothing.

    Well, why on EARTH would it? When brilliant persons spend their time and their brilliant minds blaming, blaming, blaming–a process which reinforces the notions of personal and cultural impotence, focuses squarely upon the Negative, dragging down the necks of other brilliant and capable persons with a millstone of rage, contempt, alienation and despair–why WOULD it?

  17. Unfortunately, they edited out the part where Man-Mom, after accidentally tripling her daily dose of ‘droids, lines up the entire family in front of the giant screen plasma TV and blows them away with a twelve gauge shotgun. But not before opening an entire case of Pabst Blue Ribbon using only the stump of her one good tooth.

  18. Well then, enlighten us, Pretty Lady. What are all the wonderful and positive aspects of patriarchy we are choosing to be willfully ignorant of? What tactics can be used besides the outstanding consciousness raising going on here which shows women they can have personal power in a culture wherein they have absolutely none? Inquirin’ minds want to know.

  19. ohprettylady.blogspot.com

    I mean, REALLY, Twisty, do you actually WANT things to change? I have examined your writings closely for some time now, and I must conclude that you don’t. It affords too much scope for your cleverness, your spite, your entrenched spleen, your indulgence of personal misery and unexamined pain, your fiefdom of Twisty wannabes to rant and rave and abuse and wreak vengeance upon the entire world for all the past wrongs you have suffered. You have a VESTED INTEREST in the patriarchy, Twisty; without it, you would have no reason to get out of bed in the mornings.

  20. Whoa. Pass the chocolate Chex mix.

  21. ginmar.livejournal.com

    The idea of anybody taking Donald Trump’s opinion on women seriously makes me ill. Since when does that vulgar, loud-mouthed, serial-cradle-robbing, women-are-playthings comb-overed, crude, power-hungry Joe Blow. Except I bet he’d spell it Bleau, cuz that’s klassy. Jesus. OMG, that beauty queen is partying! She’s dating—gasp!—boys! Ya think Trump feels a little less manly by comparison?

  22. Pretty Lady’s psychoanalysis notwhithstanding (not that it’s with standing either), I’d like to say that in spite of the season, I feel comfort and joy visiting this place. And I daresay Twisty could think of a dozen projects before breakfast to occupy her talents if the patriarchy should happily fall.

  23. You can go to the ‘contact’ form on this page http://www.combos.com/ to let them know what you think about their ads.

  24. Don’t know if this is the place to write in, but I have a Christmas wish – I want Twisty to write in wisdom about soulless office Christmas parties where all the spouses are invited.

    In all my experience, for a single spinster like myself, it’s all about the family parade, the kid pictures, and for wives to see the women that the men work with. And for everyone to talk about their kids and “ha-ha” their marriages and child raising with witless jokes. Sometimes, all the “girls” cluster in the kitchen. All of a sudden it’s like a third grade dance – boys over here; girls over there. Or it’s a bad soap opera where the wives cling to their husbands when you make small talk with them, as if to say “not with my man you don’t..” Suddenly I’m the office seductress. Honestly, they don’t have to worry.

    I work in a profession that is mostly men, and these parties are a minefield. I just didn’t go this year. Dear Twisty, what words of wisdom do you have to say about this?

  25. “Yesterday saw the saddest thing; an older, non-breeding woman crossing the road hesitantly, picking her way over the icey street while a hummer edged closser and closer, the better to save 1/10000 of a second.”

    thats one of those personal battles i feel obligated to join in whenever i am crossing the street. im not an old lady but theres still a few cars that inch forward onto the crosswalk when they see me coming…so of course i make it a point to not only walk in front of there car but to do so very slowly. hah i win!

    ah sorry, a tad off topic.

  26. pretty lady, there’s value in pointing out that uploading a picture of one’s mother so that frat boys may call her a man is not the behavior of a decent society. twisty is shaking the sleepers, and for those of us already paying attention, she makes the perfectly reasonable reaction of despair and fury mildly more tolerable.

    it’s true that taking action is important. twisty, as i understand it, was the lead singer in a punk rock band well before there was rock ‘n’ roll camp for girls. for one thing. but this blog is not about twisty’s cred (it’s somewhat fitting that she’s being attacked on a post about strange attacks on women).

    this blog is about the patriarchy, and the patriarchy sucks, and that is why there is complaining.

  27. Prettylady,
    You are asserting facts not in evidence. Having a blog does not preclude having a life. Posting observations on the breadth and depth of the patriarchy within which we are soaking does not preclude taking action to overthrow the patriarchy. The galloping assumption that Twisty is dependent upon the patriarchy to get out of bed in the morning and wishes to preserve that which she detests is just plain foolishness.
    You know nothing about any of the people here other than what we choose to share in the comments. I know nothing about you other than what your comment reveals. Perhaps you should reread it with an eye to fact and tact.

  28. pink tulle punk = irony

    And I’m pretty too.

  29. Thanks for the link, ps. My message to them: “In ridiculing mothers (so passe’) you inadvertently illustrate what crappy parents fathers really are. Cool. Keep ’em comin’.”

  30. Ironically the NY Post articles have been far more professsional in their reporting about that creepo ex driver. (usually the Post and News battle over who will be the sleazest in their news reporting)

    When the guy threatened Yoko with backmail over his illegal recordings of her political comments about the Bush administration and a picture of her that he took of her in a nightgown without her knowledge or permission, and emails he’d stolen from her computer, she yanked the picture and papers out of his hands and told him to get out that he was fired.

    When his attempts to blackmail her failed he then called her lawyer and threatened to kill Yoko and her son Sean, and that he had access to people who could kill them at any time unless she paid him 2 million dollars. And Yoko’s lawyer records all his calls so it’s on tape. He also threatened her and Sean’s life in his rambling threatening letter. And to boot he did this on the very anniversary of John Lennon’s murder, when he knew she’d be at her most emotionally vulnerable.

    The only “mistake” Yoko has made is that she has always treated her employees as family, allowing them free access to her home, etc… In most cases this has lead to longtime loyal employees who care about her and Sean like family too, but there’s been a few over the years that turned out to be bad people and did really hurtful things to her and Sean. One other one threatened her and Sean’s safety, (after she fired him for stealing John’s things) but not so overtly as this guy. My stomach sank and I felt a renewal of fear for Yoko and Sean’s safety when I heard today that two of this guy’s friends had come up with his bail. This creepy guy (who has been reported to have boasted to friends about being a Turkish military officer who enjoyed killing people) is going to be free on the streets and is said to still have ties to Turkish officials and still have a home in Turkey…

  31. It occurs to me, Pretty Lady, that thousands of years of blaming, blaming, blaming women for literally everything has not reinforced notions of personal and cultural impotence in patriarchs.

  32. [Hands chocolate chex mix to Mar Iguana] Here ya go, extra chocolatey!

    Pretty Lady: I enjoy Twisty’s posts for their very lightness, the froth of her rage, her wit and perception. Goodness knows I don’t agree with her, or with lots of others on here, about everything–I’m not here to be agreed with or to be liked, but to be in company with angry and smart and funny and outraged women, because that’s my chosen refuge.

    This particular post stands out for me in that it hurt to read it; I read frustration and pain coming through loud and clear. Not so much with the frothy and the sarcasm. Therefore, your statement seems particularly well-timed, if what you were going for was to make a strike at Twisty when she exhibited anything like a vulnerability. And if that is indeed what you were going for, well, your predatory instincts are excellent, and I’m sure you’re extremely adept at causing damage to the vulnerable women around you.

    Whether or not she’s in extremis, however, I don’t think Twisty’s one of that stripe. And she certainly doesn’t require any defense from the likes of me, so I’ll be fucking off now.

  33. I have pretty much determined that “Pretty Lady” is pretty much an idiot, so instead of taking her bait, I have a much more important inquiry: Do they really make Chocolate Chex Mix? SERIOUSLY? If so, I obviously need to pay more attention in the snack aisle.

    Also, bog, yes: nothing ever fucking changes. Men hate women and people make a lot of money off of men hating women and a lot of women die because men hate women. It is at least a relief to know there are other women who can see this, because it seems like nobody around me can see it at all and it’s just too exhausting to spread the word day in and day out.

  34. “{…} so I’ll be fucking off now.”

    Sure. Now that the damn box is empty.

  35. Oh, also, banana: lordy, the office parties. I’m a low-rung peon at a state University, so we don’t get perqs like parties or coffee or, say, heat in the mausoleum we work in, but I always end up going to somebody’s damn office party anyway–it’s free food, and generally of a better sort than I can afford on my own. And over the years, I have developed a few coping mechanisms, to wit:

    1. I always wear my santa hat trimmed with barbed wire. It’s very offputting.

    2. I dress as creatively as possible. This year I cobbled together a Gina-Torres-as-Zoey-in-Firefly thingie from thrift store finds, although at 6’1” I couldn’t find any pants that worked, so I made nifty knee-length shorts. Worn with Grinch socks and combat boots, good stuff. Last year it was lavender-boa-trimmed lederhosen. It’s amazing how rarely anyone tries to show me pictures of their children.

    3. Strategic fun. At almost every workplace party there’s a contingent of labor-class workers, women workers, people of color, or a trifecta thereof. That’s the group I look for, hang with, dance with, and attempt to amuse with ribald speculations about the vapid, narrow lives of the higher-ups.

    Not that I’m advocating any of this. It’s just stuff that helps me get by without beating some sleazy vice president unconscious with an oversized white elephant gift. I feel your pain.

  36. Jezebella: I like this one, made with extra (unsweetened) coconut, and pecans instead of peanuts:


    Pony: virtual buckets of chocolatey snacks to you! And chocolatey admiration.

  37. There seems to be a breed of bloggers here who take on the faux persona of the Holly Golightly fashionista, tripping the Disneyfied version of the Light Fantastic/Big Appleâ„¢ in their strappy ‘Choos and taking great offense at anything is posted here, using a twittery falsetto voice to admonish feminists for their less than rosy views of the patriarchy. Perhaps they fancy themselves the next Hedonistic Pleasure Seeker, only they lack our hedonistic heroine’s genuinely engaging and thoughtful voice, and are bereft of anything remotely connected to pleasure. Instead, they come off as Dame Edna as channeled through Donald Rumsfeld, spouting all the same disengenuous “Good Golly, Gosh, Gee Whillikers” non-sequiters like the former Defense Secretary having a particularly bad war day.

  38. Pretty Lady: although I suspect that you may have made your remarks to see how many bloggers you could inflame, I have to comment on it. I think Twisty’s blog is hilarious, sharp, and creative. Her posts bring in fabulous viewpoints and debates from an online community of random people that would otherwise not get to talk to each other or share this common ground.

    As a starting point, however, is it not true that awareness is the first step towards change? Twisty points out, with sarcasm and scathing wit, the lousy quality of the mushy patriarchal media gruel that the rest of the world seems to swallow as “normality.” The world NEEDS Twisty’s observations. The way she picks apart shitty stereotypes and illogical arguments in mainsteam media is a necessary form of activism. There’s a difference between activism and ineffective complaining.

    Twisty, if you ever write a book, I will be the first in line to get an autographed copy.

  39. I’ve been on too many feminist bulletin boards and blogs and stuff not to recognize a sockpuppet when I see one. PL is a sockpuppet, people. Ignore it.

  40. I think I may know what you mean by sockpuppet, sort of. Because I am old, my first thought is of Cecil the seasick sea serpent from “Beany and Cecil”. Then my second thought just sort of spirals around the drain while I call out “I’m comin’ Beany boy”. I shall take myself to wikpedia, unless you would be kind enough to provide the sockpuppet definition.

  41. I now know far more than I needed to about sockpuppetry, but I still like lambchop best. I do so love the intertubes.

  42. I gather it means a fake persona created by someone to express views the creator doesn’t want to be identified with directly. There was a big flap–well, a big blogosphere flap–a couple of months ago when a blogger was discovered to have left comments on his own site, praising himself as brilliant while reviling his critics. These were posted in the name of a non-existent character–a sockpuppet.

  43. Thank you CF, and Nanaimo Bars to you.

  44. ohprettylady.blogspot.com

    This particular post stands out for me in that it hurt to read it; I read frustration and pain coming through loud and clear.

    Yes, indeed. I did too. That is why I responded in kind.

    Because, believe it or not, I do not like to see people in pain. I like to see them heal it. And it is a sad thing for me, not being able to heal it for them. After long and difficult experience in trying, I have come to the certain knowledge that they have to heal it for themselves.

    And one does not heal one’s own pain by projecting it ceaselessly outward. That’s how it starts, yes; you have to first acknowledge that healing is required, and that is the virtue of this blog, as many of you have so wisely pointed out.

    But it doesn’t end there. And there is a trap in too much wallowing. You can get caught up in the attention, the ‘specialness,’ the status that being a permanent victim bestows. You can use it to manipulate and control others; you can use it as an excuse to indulge your baser nature. You can decide that it is okay to attack other people, just as you have been attacked. You can use it to avoid the knowledge of your inner power to heal.

    And most importantly, you cannot have compassion for anyone else if you do not have compassion for yourself; the compassion to look inward, say “I’m hurting” and reach out to accept the love that is there. Love that you are blind to, when you spend your time seeking out the sore places and pushing on them harder, making them hurt more.

  45. You know, if you’re not a fag you’re doing a damn good imitation of one. Darling.

  46. ohprettylady.blogspot.com

    And if you’re not a bitch…

  47. Am I to understand PL that it is your position that Twisty needs to hurry up and put all that abuse, cancer surgery, and whatever other whatnots have been getting her down, behind her and heal up like a good girl so she can talk about happy furry puppy stories with norbiz or sumpin?
    Perhaps it is ignorance, insensitivity or simple arrogance that gives you to think that your abusive language is somehow helpful. It is my understanding from wikipedia that those are standard issue for sockpuppets and trolls.

  48. I’m a bitch???

    I was right. You’re a male.

  49. Jesus f*king christ! I hate to feed the troll here, but this whole thread has been taken up with her garbage already, and I’ve already delurked, so why not.

    Here’s the deal. I’ll keep it simple. Recognizing the patriarchy is not about seeing yourself as a victim. Exactly the opposite is true: it is only by recognizing oppressive systems like the patriarchy that the women and men who read this blog can breathe a sigh of relief and STOP feeling victimized and blaming all the patriarchy-conforming individuals around us — or sometimes even blaming ourselves — for the terrible crap that the patriarchy has induced in individual psychology and behavior.

    Just to take one example, before I learned to see the patriarchy for what it is, I would just feel frustrated by women around me who embraced the full load of girly-girly cute-helplessness. Can’t they see, I used to wonder, that while this earns them a patronizing smile from the nearest male, nobody will ever take them seriously until they get out of drag and start acting like a human? But now I see that it’s not quite right to blame these people as individuals. They’re stuck in a system that creates the pressure and the incentives to behave in these kind of ways. So now I take a much more active approach. One on one, I try to raise the consciousness of people around me. I try not to come on too strong; it’s a tricky balance. But I’ve made noticeable headway with quite a few friends and acquaintances. This is one way that social change happens.

    One way that social change _doesn’t_ happen is for people to go around whining the way Pretty Lady whines: oh, this is all so sad! It’s so dark! I can’t take it! You must all be so depressed and maladjusted to really believe the things you believe! I, in contrast, am so well-adjusted — I who spent my first week on the job as a blogger waxing rhapsodic about men picking up the check on a date
    (oh yeah, definitely, “Check-paying has nothing to do with equality between the genders, good sex, or feminism.” What a relief! It was making me so squicky to worry about the personal actually being political!)
    …and then follow it up a few months later with a cutesy, vomit-inducing bit of advice unapologetically entitled “How to Give a Good Christian Blowjob”

    I mean, please. What a joke. Pretty Lady, I spent about 8 minutes looking your blog and your commenters, and that’s 8 minutes of my life I wish I could have back. Just watching you be oh-so-cutesy-feminine with your male commenters made me wonder whether you could possibly be faking it all. But, while you are somewhat over-the-top in your gender conformity, I don’t think you are quite over-the-top enough to be self-parody. I think you probably really mean it. Reading your stuff kind of takes me back to middle school — that’s the last time I saw female human beings embracing crappy feminine cant with such wide-eyed, clueless gusto.

    But I don’t feel anger toward you, as an individual; I don’t feel victimized by you. That’s the great thing about seeing/blaming the patriarchy. I can step back a little and see that you’re not malevolent, you’re just one of these people who, without even thinking of herself as an anti-feminist — lemme guess, you’re some kind of ‘post-feminist’? — is actually waist-deep in the muck of the patriarchy, without even knowing it.

    So to you I say: lurk for a while and learn, if you want to (and if responses like this one didn’t drive you too crazy). Blaming the patriarchy is actually a way OUT of the hole you are in, a way to greater eventual mental health, not less. But there’s a hurdle to get over. We are all strongly motivated to justify the status quo, and you have drunk deep from that particular well. So for you, if you listen & learn, it’ll probably feel like it gets worse before it gets better… but then, believe me, it’ll get better. A lot better. And you’ll wonder how you used to be such a lemming.

  50. I’m not here to be agreed with or to be liked, but to be in company with angry and smart and funny and outraged women, because that’s my chosen refuge.

    Yes, exactly

  51. unsanesafe.blogspot.com

    Recognizing the patriarchy is not about seeing yourself as a victim. Exactly the opposite is true: it is only by recognizing oppressive systems like the patriarchy that the women and men who read this blog can breathe a sigh of relief and STOP feeling victimized and blaming all the patriarchy-conforming individuals around us — or sometimes even blaming ourselves — for the terrible crap that the patriarchy has induced in individual psychology and behavior.

    Awesome and requotable. It involves a shift from individualising your problems to seeing the bigger picture!

  52. “Do they really make Chocolate Chex Mix?” Jezabella

    Yes indeedy they do. It’s got your caramel popcorn, caramel Chex, chocolate Chex, honey roasted peanuts, milk chcolate candies (M&M type thingies) and pretzels. The perfect sweet and salty snack.

  53. Oh, and, yep, Pretty Laaaaady is a penis person.

    Damn thebewilderness, Cecil The Seasick Sea Serpent!! I haven’t thought of dear Cecil in decades. He was my absolute favorite when I was a tot. Well, I was a pretty big fan of Froggy The Gremlin and his magic twanger too. But, Cecil was special.

    Heh, it occurs to me if I was the sort of chickenshit to use sockpuppets, a sea serpent would be fitting for an old sea lizard like myself.

  54. ohprettylady.blogspot.com

    it is your position that Twisty needs to hurry up and put all that abuse, cancer surgery, and whatever other whatnots have been getting her down, behind her and heal up like a good girl

    No, those are the words you have so kindly put into my mouth. What I’m saying is that enough is enough is enough. And why don’t you let Twisty respond on her own behalf? I’m sure she’s capable.

    to think that your abusive language is somehow helpful.

    Abusive language? I beg your pardon?

    I HAVE been lurking here for quite some time, and I can say with complete sincerity that the abusive language I have observed here far exceeds that of the most patriarchal right-wing websites I have known, and that is saying a lot. But then, women ARE much more agile with language.

    I do not consider it abusive to tell a person whom I respect that they have infinite inner power. I consider it respectful, and the truth.

    Blaming the patriarchy is actually a way OUT of the hole you are in, a way to greater eventual mental health, not less.

    Of course it is; you will see that I have acknowledged this fact, in my last comment above.

    But, as I said, it’s only a start. A truly healthy person can afford to love EVERYONE, even her own feminine nature–and even men.

  55. ohprettylady.blogspot.com

    lemme guess, you’re some kind of ‘post-feminist’?

    Well, I was in the actual audience at the Cactus during one of the first public performances of 2 Nice Girls’ immortal song, ‘I Spent My Last $10,’ so I suppose I am post-SOMETHING.

  56. News flash, PL: thinking you have a “feminine nature” IS the hole you are in.

    Also, plenty of us who read and love this blog love men. Many of us _are_ men. Wake up! The patriarchy hurts men as well as women, a lot. See Stiffed, by Susan Faludi. People who call themselves Pretty Lady or Manly Man or what have you make life harder for all of us of any sex who don’t comply with the gender norms you seem to find just peachy.

  57. Yes, Pretty Lady, smiling and focusing on the positive and ignoring all the bad shit in the world has always been the best way to affect change. Sweep it under the rug and maybe it will vanish! After all, slavery in the US ended because the abolitionists politely refrained from mentioning it, lest the news upset people, and Ghandi won freedom for his people by politely never mentioning what they went through and just encouraging them all to work harder and get better jobs. I’m sure feminists need to just stop being such angry women and all start shaving their legs and smiling more and wearing pretty dresses and not disturb anyone with this awful news, because if we all just smile and look pretty, boys’ hearts will melt and they will spontaneously decide women are too nice to oppress anymore! We all know how well that has worked over the last several thousand years, after all.

  58. ninaturns40.blogs.com

    cranky liberal, you beat me to it. I was willing to cut PL a certain amount of slack until she started saying things like “feminine nature.” Blech.

  59. “Women are more agile with the language” Oh bollocks. Stereotypes are on the empty side. And rage is a perfectly logical reaction to some of what goes on in this world, and frequently, a basis for change.

  60. You have a VESTED INTEREST in the patriarchy, Twisty; without it, you would have no reason to get out of bed in the mornings.

    Well, Pretty Lady, that’s about the shortest synopsis of what Twisty’s been saying for a danged long time. Congratulation on finally smelling the coffee. I guess that sometimes the subliminal mind *does* know what the dealio is.

  61. Oh, well, here’s my problem: someone set my ‘feminine nature’ to ‘evil’ instead of ‘loves everyone’. Damn. But at least I got this cool language agility as partial compensation.

    If I could afford to love everyone, I would have obviously been robbed of my ability to pay attention. Not a fair trade. I am not ready to gird the loins of humans as a species with that particular pair of moral dignity pants.

    Today, Pretty Lady, you have made me especially glad and proud to be an unhealthy misanthropic irreverent deviant. Which is a nice moment, thank you.

    And Froggy the Gremlin *rocks*.

  62. I wonder how much of a kickback the hormone replacement therapy overlords are getting from the Man Mom ads. Such a powerful example of femininity-derision-fear synergy doesn’t grow on trees, you know.

    This chocolate Chex Mix you speak of: in my family, it’s known as Puppy Chow. It’s obscenely easy to make, and, because I rarely contribute anything of substance to the patriarchy discussion, seeing as how I’m too busy watching my armpit hair grow by the light of a lipstick-fueled oil lamp in my vagina-shaped yurt, how ’bout I share the recipe instead:

    1/2 c creamy peanut butter
    1/2 c butter
    6 oz chocolate chips
    10 c Corn Chex (has more structural integrity than other Chex varieties, but you could certainly experiment)
    2 c powdered sugar

    Melt peanut butter, butter, and chocolate chips carefully, in a double boiler or the microwave (don’t wait for the chips to lose their shape as they melt in the microwave; stir thoroughly every 10-20 seconds, and when the mixture is nice and creamy, it’s ready).

    Put the Corn Chex in a large bowl, and pour the chocolate goo over over the cereal. Stir very gently, coating all the cereal.

    Put the powdered sugar in a paper grocery sack, or whatever you’ve got. Add the cereal and shake until all the cereal is coated with sweet goodness.

    Pour out on wax paper to cool.

  63. vera.wordpress.com

    Bless you, cycles, for the recipe, and the humor, and, mostly, for the wonderful image I am now visualizing of a vagina-shaped, lipstick-lighted yurt. If only I could be in that yurt now, munching on chocolate chex mix! The world has be so abrasive lately.

  64. Prettylady said: What I’m saying is that enough is enough is enough.

    Simple answer to silly statement: Stop reading, ya big galloot.

  65. ohprettylady.blogspot.com

    smiling and focusing on the positive and ignoring all the bad shit in the world has always been the best way to affect change.

    Go back…and READ…what I wrote. Did I say anything about ignoring all the bad shit in the world? Hmmm? I did not. What I SAID was, healing BEGINS with acknowledging all the bad shit in the world. Hmmm?

    Which Twisty and all of you are doing a MOST SPLENDID JOB OF. I have made no secret of my admiration for the high style with which all of you, and Twisty in particular, acknowledge the bad shit in the world.

    And then you acknowledge it some more, and more, and more. And then you start seeing shit where there is no shit.

    And then you start creating it yourself.

  66. vera.wordpress.com

    I prefer to think of myself as a person who has glimpsed the wiring under the boards of reality.

  67. “Oh, well, here’s my problem: someone set my ‘feminine nature’ to ‘evil’ instead of ‘loves everyone’. Damn.”

    Har har har har har…

  68. buttercupia.blogspot.com

    thebewilderness, one of my first phrases, as reported by my mother, was “Beecil! Beecil! Wanna watch BEECIL!” I loved that show. Thanks for reminding me of it.

  69. “Nothing changes. Nothing.”

    Fuck that. Sure they hate me–I know this. But they hated my mom, too, and she blamed herself. I blame them. Things have changed, because I BLAME THE PATRIARCHY!

    Keep showing us how, Twisty.

  70. oh. my. bog. chocolate chex mix! with peanut butter! Cycles, you rock. Thank you.

  71. The marvellous writing that has come forth from commenters such as JR and CannibalFemme in response to Pretty Lady almost makes the whole thing worthwhile, as far as I’m concerned. I’m a selfish reader and I adore the wit, humour and flawless logic of the brilliantly angry patriarchy blamer.

  72. faultline.org/place/toad

    See, if Twisty were really the sort of person who’d “troll her own blog,” as has been alleged in the past, Pretty Lady would be her sockpuppet.

    “Healing,” yet. Hoooo-whee.

    I’ve seen live performances of “I Spent My last Ten Dollars (On Birth Control and Beer” and I’ve also seen ditto of “I Can See Your Aura (And It’s Ugly).” Guess I’m post-Posthole.

  73. I come for the blaming but stay for food. Chocolate chex mix!

  74. Slashy said what I was thinking. PL seems to be a sort of “concern troll.” I don’t know what unusual levels of “abusive language” she’s seen on this blog, but there certainly doesn’t seem to be a greater number of ad hominems than I’ve seen elsewhere. There’s less swearing than I’ve seen elsewhere. And it seems to be that people can get into a bit of a tiff with one another here, but no one seems to get driven away. There aren’t routine “pile-ons,” and the few times I’ve seen such (like this thread), the comments are quite civil.

    But, whatever, Pretty Lady.

  75. Taking the high road and assuming that PL is not a troll:

    “Healing” is a framing word that implies the speaker has the cure and the listener/reader is powerless without it. As a result, it implies a power structure with the healer possessing a mythological or divine power over others. In other words, it’s snake oil.

    What if we reframe the discussion using the word “repair” instead. That word implies that shit is broken and needs to be fixed. It also implies that whoever broke it might consider reparation.


  76. This has nothing to do with Pretty Lady or Chocolate Chex Mix, so I may seem like a jump, but regarding the news bites in the original post: Mind-numbingly bored at work this weekend, I picked up a stray Post to see what kind of bullshit was passing as news, and the Miss USA “story” was plastered all over the front page. Inside was a list of all the “rule of decorum” Miss USA is expected to follow during her reign. Among them- no drugs, no alcohol, no smoking, no sex, no cursing, no chewing gum.

    And I thought to myself, with a loud sigh and a roll of the eyes, how medieval. No chewing gum. *scoff*

    When Donald Trump starts telling you that you’re not allowed to indulge in the occasional piece of Juicy Fruit, it’s time for for some serious soul-searching.

    Oh, and Twisty rocks.

  77. Hi Leigh…she can’t chew and he is allowed to walk around with a head of hair like THAT???? His hairdo is a crime!

    Rosie O’Donnell has been giving Trump a hard time, I hear.

  1. Feministe » Well, that’s one way of looking at it.

    […] One could argue that Judith Regan was fired because she was a “more or less powerful woman who deserved [her] comeuppance for having achieved unnatural success.” […]

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