Archive for the 'Compulsory pregnancy' Category

Pinkness ensures replication of patriarchal ideals

Published by Twisty on January 21, 2012. 114 Comments

How delightful to follow a link on the US birth control coverage benefit to HuffPo’s “Women” page. Everything is baby-pink!

What a relief, all that pink, because the Global Accords Governing Fair Use of Women clearly state that if the fairer sex go longer than 16 minutes without girlification, ghettoization, infantilization, and condescension, they’re liable to start acting like unfuckable men. From there, as you can well imagine, it’s but a short, slippery hop to the cosmos-rocking vortex of horror that would be the dissolution of the gender binary, followed closely by the total destruction of oppression culture as we know it.

In short, to save the galaxy, public institutions need to keep women’s shit pink. So kudos to the internet’s most popular blog for doing its part to ensure the ongoing safety of the status quo.

The reassuring baby-pinkness sets the “Women” section apart from the regular Huffington Post. The regular Huffington Post color scheme is a non-giggly, trustworthy forest green. This green HuffPo, of course, is not for women, but rather for normal people, people who dig porn and don’t dream of weddings 18 hours a day. Replete with gravitas, it’s got stories about Newt Gingrich’s horndog open marriage, a girl getting eaten by a crocodile, a severed head found in Hollywood Park, and a photo of that slut Snooki without her slut makeup.

But the pink women of America don’t give a shit about that crap. What we want is a list of the Top 10 cities where “sensitive men” can be found. We want horoscopes, because astrology is totally fun. And when we read about Newt Gingrich, we don’t want to think about the South Carolina primary, we want to ponder the weighty question of whether you should let your husband screw other women. We want articles explaining why booty calls (“comfort sex”) are awesome. We want about 257 other articles on relationship management and self-loathing. In short, as long as it has to do with sex, it has to do with women. Women equal sex!

The birth control coverage benefit, by the way, is one of the few not altogether depressing things to come down the women’s health pike in quite some time. If you missed it: it ensures (with the usual godbaggy caveats) that health insurance will now cover prescription birth control. For years misogynist jacknuts who adhere to the Global Accords Governing Fair Use of Women have concluded that any sexual use of women, such as compulsory pregnancy, is perfectly awesome, and that the whole concept of reproductive health is just a feminist, America-hating scam, and that legislation ought to reflect the sacredness of the dudely seed over the health and well-being of us second-class glory holes.

For a second, over at the Huffington Post, while reporting on a rare government platform that appears to quasi-validate the human status of women, the natural order was out of whack. But luckily the aforementioned blog post on the victory for women’s reproductive health appears on a “liberal” forum in a pink ghetto surrounded by infinite messages that women are sex toilets. Whew! Natural order restored!

Posted in Compulsory pregnancy, Mass Media, Not Altogether Depressing and The Spinster's Finger on the Pulse of Today. Bite me, Chad.

Whew, that was close

Published by Jill on November 10, 2011. 66 Comments

Wouldn’t you know it, my office was recently swallowed up by a quantum vortex-oscillation anomaly, so, obviously, I haven’t been able to get much blaming in. However, the subspace crystalline entity hasn’t yet been spontaneously generated that could prevent this professional spinster aunt from discharging two of her most cherished duties: recognizing a human rights victory, and hacking up loogey of savage death disdain for busybody godbags everywhere. It is in this spirit of consororitous obstreperosity that I step across the event horizon into this bizarro-universe to publish this post.

I know it is a bizarro-universe because I am typing the following words:

Let us mark with a glad cry the defeat of Initiative 26, the depraved attempt by delusional godbags in Mississippi — the most delusionally godbaggy state in the US — to confer “personhood” on fertilized human eggs. Hah-yee ip-ip! A heartfelt butch-ass chin-nod of appreciation goes out from Spinster HQ to everyone who worked on the successful campaign to smush that extremely crappy amendment.

I have to say, zygote worship truly is one of the freakier manifestations of modern fundamentalist misogyny. Here is a zygote (magnification 2.73 bajillion):

Zygote: Suck it, human host! I rule and you're Number 2!

How could the Lard love that dumb thing more than, for example, me?

Spinster aunt hails a TARDIS.

I’m not only a more scintillating conversationalist than a zygote, but I can type faster, I pay taxes, and I look better in plaid. Jesus! These meddling religioshitbags! Their deity is a total loser with bad taste.

As you know, whenever people go around recognizing odd bits of reproductive matter as “persons,” they simultaneously un-recognize women as persons, ceding ownership of women’s personal internal organs to the state and instituting a programme of compulsory pregnancy. If Initiative 26 had passed, those two cells up there would actually have more human rights than an actual human woman. For instance, unlike actual women, the state wouldn’t be able to dictate to the cells what they could or couldn’t do with their personal organelles. The state probably doesn’t even know what organelles are. Furthermore, zygotes would enjoy state-mandated free room and board at their human host’s expense. They wouldn’t even have to pay for cable.

But the lives of actual human women would remain subject to the whim of the Jesus-sucking mob. Raped at 14 by your mother’s meth-head boyfriend? Suck it, whore, you’re bringin’ that fetus to term. Got cancer and need chemo and radiation? Suck it, whore, you’re bringin’ that fetus to term. Aren’t feelin’ it with the compulsory pregnancy dealio, like it might be somewhat discrepant from your goal to win the Tricorder X Prize? Suck it, whore, you’re bringin’ that fetus to term! And you’d better be a good mother once it’s born — so no getting depressed, no having a glass of wine to dull the crushing pain of your hijacked life, no having any time to yourself — or we’ll put you on the evening news and throw the kid in foster care with pedophiles.

Another point on the depraved misogyny continuum is this shit in Saudi Arabia, where it is a flippin headline when a woman drives a flippin car. Saudi women, as you know, are banned from driving. Apparently if they jaunt around town behind the wheel they become sin-magnets who give God brain tumors. In Saudi Arabia, women never reach the age of majority. They are, their whole lives, wholly owned subsidiaries of male dudes, and can’t do anything without dudely permission.

So the other day some 29 Saudi women got fed up with this program. They took to the open road and drove to the grocery store. This act of defiance unleashed quite the furor.

An anti-driving group on Facebook has called on “real men” to beat up women who drive. On Twitter, activists were called “westernised whores.” Washington Post

Dudes on the Internet: so classy the world over.

Considering that last September a woman who got busted for driving while female was sentenced to 10 lashes by some Muslim putzwad whose deity is also a total loser, these 29 rogue drivers also get a heartfelt butch-ass chin-nod from Spinster HQ. May the day soon arrive when they can fire their hated chauffeurs.

(As a westernised whore, I personally think having a chauffeur would be awesome, but à chacun son gôut.)

Posted in Compulsory pregnancy, Politics and The Spinster's Finger on the Pulse of Today. Bite me, Chad.

Spinster aunt reads interesting email

Published by Jill on March 21, 2011. 37 Comments

Despite the dire predictions saturating yesterday’s news, last night’s “supermoon” didn’t precipitate too many cosmic cataclysms or harmonic convergences here in Cottonmouth County. The toilets still flush clockwise and my internet connection remains intact. Sometimes intact internet connections bum me out, but today I was pleased to discover among the emails a communiqué from Athena Andreadis, molecular neurobiologist, author, and my new idol.

In her email Ms Andreadis expressed general solidarity, curled a lip at “the Tarzanism of the self-labeled progressive intellectuals” (the Dawkinses of which group I pooh-poohed in yesterday’s post), then turned me on to her blog, Astrogator’s Logs.

As superintendent of the Savage Death Island Spinstitute for No. 1 Science Information, I am delighted, in turn, to turn you on to her blog. Her essays have titles like “Girl Cooties Menace the Singularity!” and do not disappoint. Behold an excerpt from “Blastocysts Feel No Pain,” a recent piece bursting with No. 1 Science Information, on the misogyny of blastocyst-worship, the handiness of stem cells, the crappiness of the “Protect Life” Act, and the redoubtable power of politicians to enslave women as fetusbags.

Despite fulminations to the contrary, women never make reproductive decisions lightly since their repercussions are irreversible, life-long and often determine their fate. Becoming a human is a process that is incomplete even at birth, since most brain wiring happens postnatally. Demagoguery may be useful to lawyers, politicians and control-obsessed fanatics. But in the end, two things are true: actual humans are (should be) much more important than potential ones – and this includes women, not just the children they bear and rear; and embryonic stem cells, because of their unique properties, may be the only path to alleviating enormous amounts of suffering for actual humans.

Ms Andreadis avers that, loosely speaking, blastocyst : human :: acorn : oak. Imagine (and this lumpen speculation is purely my invention; don’t go blaming it on Athena) if the Oak People were as loony over acorns as godbag humans are over clumps of cells. My horses hang around under oak trees all day waiting for acorns to fall, so they can eat them with some fava beans and a nice chianti.* If they didn’t get eaten, the zillions of acorns that happened to land in hospitable spots would become irksome, ankle-shredding shrubs, eventually choking the life out of each other in a slo-mo battle royale over water, sun, and nutrients. Providing sustenance to furry woodland creatures is what the vast majority of acorns do. Everybody (except the people who have to rake them up) accepts the happy outcome of this reasonable arrangement with grace and dignity, which is why you won’t see gangs of sapped-up timber from the Society for Compulsory Arborosity running around like mad trying to force all these acorns into seedlings; this would kill the adult trees and starve the forest critters. Also, timber can’t run.

Nobody needs every flippin’ embryo to turn into a baby, either, but stem cells can actually improve the circumstances of persons who are already humans.

If you catch my drift.

_____________________
* Yes, I am aware that acorns are toxic to horses. Fastidious raking keeps them (the horses) alive, but the equine aptitude for acorn-spotting is remarkable for animals with brains the size of plums.

Posted in Blogulation, Compulsory pregnancy and Number 1 Science Information. Bite me, Chad.

GOP: “Let us bravely endure the deaths of impregnated women who can’t afford non-misogynist healthcare.”

Published by Jill on February 5, 2011. 40 Comments

Has it been 8 degrees for the past week in your little acre of paradise, causing rolling blackouts and catastrophic bunkhouse infrastructure failures? No? Then perhaps you’ve enjoyed electricity and its lovable sidekick, Internet/cable news access, allowing you to get a load of this bullshit: H.R. 358, the so-called “Protect Life Act.” This vile piece of legislation is astonishing — even for the usual suspects who hate women professionally — in its full-on, unapologetic, violently misogynist rancor. The bill contains a provision that would permit woman-hating hospital staff to withhold life-saving abortions from critically ill patients.

Let us pause for a moment to let that sink in.*

The degree to which motherhood is reviled in our culture is generally unappreciated, thanks to cloaking devices like Mother’s Day and other patronizing practices and sentimental narratives. Putting Mother on a pedestal effectively disguises society’s contempt for her. But beneath the glib and oily layer of saccharine lip-service is an abiding sense of mother’s worthlessness except as a self-sacrificing incubator of domination culture.

Mother’s sacred duty is twofold: give birth, then imbue the offspring with the mores required to replicate patriarchy. She must perform this selfless low-status duty at all costs, including, apparently, that of her own life.

Women who fail to become mothers, as well as mothers who fuck up and deviate from the impossible standards mandated by the official patriarchal narrative,** are always punished in one way or another. With this anti-abortion bill dealio, unless she is fortunate enough to be ill in a hospital that does not receive federal funding, a woman who is insufficiently robust to carry a fetus to term may be punished by death. Just like that.

Mother’s function appears to be child-centric, but in actuality it serves domination culture at the expense of her children. As feminist analysis has shown, society has only two uses for human progeny: as pawns in the ongoing effort to control women, and as drones forced to absorb patriarchal messages that mold them into the obedient adult proles necessary to further the interests of the megatheocorporatocracy.

Fetushood is romanticized by godbags and misogynists, but as we have seen time and again, no real concern for the fetus’ well-being obtains after birth. We know this because what happens after birth is childhood, a hood that can only be described as ghastly. Any personhood conferred upon the former fetus is null and void as soon as it becomes a baby. Childhood is nostalgified by adults who perhaps recollect gaps in their own oppression training, when some little spark of joy might have erupted for a moment or two. However, because children are not recognized as fully human, and are in fact routinely abused and oppressed by nearly every adult who crosses their path, actual childhood is, at best, overwhelmingly a painful period of indoctrination, and at worst, a violent nightmare.

But back to motherhood. Crap like this “Protect Life Act” — named by one of those congressional aides who majored in Doublespeak at Dickhead & Prick University — is useful in exposing mother-hate that is normally hidden. The general public may be unaware, but it is codified in the Global Accords Governing Fair Use of Women, in the Dutiful Mother Provisions, that a woman’s essence consists of her uterus and the contents therein. This clause allows assholes like pink-faced, woman-hating bill sponsor Joe Pitts to seek retribution when a woman exhibits reproductive nonconformity, such as getting sick. Whereupon it naturally follows that hospital personnel may, at their whim, elect to kill an impregnated human rather than disturb any genetic material attached to her personal person.

_____________________
* Let us also pause to consider that, on top of every other level of wrong, this bill is just plain crazy. If an impregnated woman dies, so will the fetus, right? If the fetus is gonna die anyway, letting the woman die when an abortion will save her life is nothing but fuckin godbag politics.

** That is, all women.

Posted in Compulsory pregnancy, Men Hate You, Politics and The megatheocorporatocracy. Bite me, Chad.

And they moved to Stars Hollow and lived happily ever after

Published by Jill on May 16, 2010. 95 Comments

Blessed Virgin hates you

This post would have appeared earlier, but I only just now got the gore and debris cleaned up. I allude to the obstreperal lobe tissue dripping from the bunkhouse rafters. That’s right, I blew another lobe, and no doubt you did, too, when you heard about the insane bill that just passed in Missouri.

Missouri’s state legislature, like that of many states, has invaded the personal bodies of its citizenry and enslaved their uteruses. Without compunction of any kind, this cruel and bloated governing body swaggers around the countryside, snapping its fingers, yelling “jump,” and smirking when the captive uteruses ask “how high?”.

There was already an extremely obnoxious law in Missouri forcing women seeking abortions — 24 hours in advance of the procedure — to sit through a lecture (bring a book) on the supposed mental and physical devastation that abortions supposedly cause. The idea being that, after a heartstring-tugging indoctrination with patriarchy-replicating, godsick disinformation about the certainty of a post-abortion lifetime of regret, cancer, depression, infertility, desperate yearning and insanity, women would voluntarily abdicate their personal bodily sovereignty in order to incubate fetuses for the state, which state would then abandon all parties concerned at the conclusion of gestation.

So things were bad enough in Missouri before, but with this new law they’re even worse. Instead of being forced to endure this patronizing abortion-is-bad-for-you crap via telephone, women are now required to audit in person. Providers must also describe the adorable little fingers and toes, the teensy little heartbeat, the precious little turned-up nose of the “unborn child.” Then they have to offer the woman an ultrasound and a chance to hear for herself how adorable the teensy heartbeat is. Then — no shit — they have to hand over “a state-produced brochure proclaiming: ‘The life of each human being begins at conception. Abortion will terminate the life of a separate, unique, living human being.’” If the woman is pretty young, they have to show her a couple of seasons’ worth of “Gilmore Girls,” because that’s such a realistic portrayal of the long-term results of teen pregnancy. Then they lock her in a room for an hour or two with a statue of the Blessed Virgin who weeps tears of blood.

This in-person ‘consultation’ means double the trips to the clinic, more time off the job, and, in the case of women who have to travel for their procedures (that is, everyone in Missouri who doesn’t live in Kansas City, Columbia, or the CWE), the time and expense of putting up in a Motel 6 and eating Grand Slam Fried Polyester Combos at Denny’s while they do their 24-hour stretch of state-mandated limbo. In other words, it merely throws more asinine obstacles in the path of any Missouri citizen who wishes to exercise her fucking legal right to an abortion. Not to mention her human right to personal autonomy.

As far as I know, there is no collateral provision in the law requiring abortion providers to detail the risks inherent in not terminating an unwanted pregnancy. For example, which women are most likely to be murdered? Pregnant women, that’s who! Neither is there a requirement that women be apprised of other unpleasant pregnancy-related crap, such as the public monitoring of their personal habits (no smoking! no drinking!); the insipid, infantilizing culture of American “moms-to-be”; life-threatening conditions such as preeclampsia and postpartum depression; 18 years of financial hardship; 18 years of unpaid domestic labor; empty-nest syndrome; and, naturally, the deleterious impact of human reproduction on the environment. Not to mention that women who don’t have children are free from a lifetime of public shaming for their bad mothering skills and from having to incorporate the word “piddle” into their vocabulary. You’d think that people might find all that information at least as useful as the “fact” that parasitic clumps of cells are Jesus’s Mini-Me. But the State of Missouri couldn’t give a flip about actual facts.

It’s just another dastardly case of institutionalized misogyny and oppression disguised as a romantic fascination with adorable fetuses. I puke on the Missouri state legislature. “The life of each human being begins with conception?” Shoot me now. Every time a politician utters this meaningless godsick hate speech he lands another kick in the teeth of Truth and Beauty’s rotting corpse.

Posted in Compulsory pregnancy, Godbagism, Lobe-blowing, Oppression Culture and Politics. Bite me, Chad.

Pre-abortion ultrasound laws generate amusing Onion vid

Published by Jill on January 19, 2010. 48 Comments


New Law Requires Women To Name Baby, Paint Nursery Before Getting Abortion

Remember this, from last summer?

Oklahoma is the only state in the nation that mandated a physician to both conduct an ultrasound and describe the images to the patient.

“The ultrasound provision takes away a patient’s choice about whether or not to view an ultrasound, and it requires physicians to provide information to their patients that the physicians do not believe is medically necessary,” Toti said.

“It’s an affront to women’s autonomy and decision-making power, and it’s also an intrusion to the physician-patient relationship.”

And this?

“One [Oklahoma] law would require women to fill out a lengthy survey that asks, among other things, about their race, education and reason for seeking an abortion. It asks women whether they’re having relationship problems, whether they can’t afford to raise a child or whether having a baby would dramatically change their lives.

Another section requires doctors to provide detailed information about complications that arise as a result of the procedure.”

The mind reels.

[Thanks, Wiggles]

Posted in Compulsory pregnancy, Mass Media, The Argument Against Human Reproduction and Ways in Which the Internet Is a Hoot. Bite me, Chad.

Spinster aunt publishes post on godly football player without titling it first

Published by Jill on January 18, 2010. 72 Comments

Redneck beer coozy

According to the Internet, a celebrity football player and his mother are making a pro-compulsory pregnancy Super Bowl commercial for noted hysterical antifeminist group Focus on the Family. Reportedly the gist of the commercial is the heartwarming tale of the pre-parturient football mother, who experienced life-threatening issues while pregnant and was advised by doctors to abort the fetus. Well, Football Mom begged to differ. Since abortions invalidate and indecentuate women, she brought her fetus to term, whereupon it matured into a dude who made a shit-ton of money throwing a ball around in a stylized form of organized combat. She raised herself a star quarterback who loves Jesus! Her gamble paid off, says Focus on the Family; yours will, too!

I love the hyperreactive, emotionally unstable “argument” supporting the premise that abortions “kill babies” that would otherwise grow up to become influential celebrities. If you have an abortion you’re murdering the future winner of the Nobel Prize for Selflessness, etc.

Oy.

Try this simple experiment. If you are in a public place, such as the Super S “grocery” store in Dripping Springs, Texas, this unborn-fetuses-are-the-Mother-Teresas-of-tomorrow thesis can be disproved in about 47 seconds. A quick glance around this shrine to Creme Filling will confirm that your fellow shoppers — all former fetuses brought to term as per God’s Plan, then abandoned by that same God to forage for sustenance in this forsaken hellhole of wilted iceberg lettuce and plastic-wrapped genetically modified snack foods — count no Mother Teresas among their number. No Presidents of the United States, no Nobel laureates, no celebrities, no astronauts, not even any local TV news anchors. It turns out that the vast majority of fetuses brought to term are just regular chumps the existence of whom is a matter of extreme inconsequentiality to the cosmos. They don’t cure cancer or negotiate peace settlements in the Middle East. They eat sliced baloney, wear beige Easy Spirit shoes, and sheathe their Miller Lites in beer coozies that say “I don’t need the INTERNET, my wife knows EVERYTHING!”

This same experiment can be performed anywhere — in urban sidewalks, rock clubs, trendy coffee huts, taco stands, and upscale shopping malls –with homogeneous results. Which results are: exceedingly few non-aborted fetuses become saintly millionaire football players.

What Focus on the Family conveniently omits to consider is the proposition diametric to their Heroic Fetus thesis. That is: applying their own loony reasoning to the problem of the existence of Bad Dudes — it follows that an abortion today could unburden the world of tomorrow’s rapist, suicide bomber, or genocidal maniac. Why wouldn’t that be a good idea?

Focus on the Family blames evildoers on crummy families where there is too much MTV and not enough “attuning to God’s presence and calling.”

O for the simpler days of yore, when you could just take your “snippy” teen “out to the back 40 acres” and “get his mind straight” (apparently, back in the days of yore, everybody had 40 acres in the back. This area was called “The Whuppin’ 40″). But now, instead of compliant teens who shape up the minute Paw kicks the shit out of’em, MTV has created a race of headstrong youths who are, inconveniently, able to “articulate their anger,” thus “compound[ing] the difficulties of growing up.”

Here’s an excerpt from the Super Bowl commercial story that’s creepy in ways I just can’t put my finger on.

“Tebow, one of the most esteemed college football players ever, has been very vocal about his Christian faith and his love for Jesus Christ.”

A college football player loves the ghost of a dead Nazarene on a stick, so he’s qualified to compel pregnancy? That doesn’t even make sense in a world gone mad!

It’s not Tebow so much as this recent Haiti-spawned spate of vocality about love for Jesus Christ, I suppose, that sticks in the spinster craw. On CNN yesterday there were countless videos of traumatized Haitians stumbling around in rubble, alluding to God in fearful, reverent and favorable terms. It blows the lobe. This earthquake and subsequent torments visited randomly upon the survivors is a pretty good argument of in favor of an indifferent, deity-free universe, but apparently other, more fanciful conclusions have been drawn. The heart bleeds.

Posted in Compulsory pregnancy, Godbagism, Magical Mysteries from Godtown, Mass Media and The Spinster's Finger on the Pulse of Today. Bite me, Chad.

Hugs, Twisty: “I just need to commandeer your uterus for a sec.”

Published by Jill on December 4, 2009. 55 Comments

Rejected comment from reader bilbertson on an August, 2007 post entitled UterusWatch 2007, in which I discuss a couple of legislative efforts to restrict women’s access to abortion, one of which required written consent of the “father”:

[Dear Twisty]

I know I’m commenting on this much later than it was posted but I hope readers will still consider my perspective

I very much think men should have a say in the future of their embryo/baby but not a say in the future of a woman’s own uterus

I think that women who don’t want to use their uteri to carry a particular pregnancy be allowed to terminate the pregnacny. Then the man could still have the embryo at said point. If he wants a baby, it should be his responsibility to nurture and develop the embryo into a fetus and viable child.

This is all outrageous and very maddening.

_______________________________________

Dear bilbertson,

As you know, bilbertson, from having read the FAQ twice — for certainly you did not omit to complete this small patriarchy-blaming prerequisite — it is not merely the stated goal of I Blame the Patriarchy, but also my own highest moral imperative to personally consider your personal perspective, particularly if it is antifeminist, and if you begin every sentence with “I,” and if you decline to punctuate.

I am happy to inform you that your perspective is worthless.

According to the Twistifesto, once a man has shot his wad, the wad becomes a waste product the sovereign control over which the wad-shooter has no expectation to exert. Men who wish, as you say, to “nurture” their wads — collected, perhaps, in a tube sock or family-sized block of Velveeta? — are of course at liberty to do so, although if you don’t mind my saying so it would probably start to smell a little funky after a while. Still, chacun à son goût, as long as you leave me out of it.

The notion of male entitlement to embryos implanted in women runs afoul of a woman’s right to personal bodily sovereignty and as such proposes criminal violence. As I just explained, ownership of the wad terminates when it departs the chute. While there’s nothing to prevent a woman who is so inclined from chucking her discarded embryo at you, or even, I suppose, to prevent you from fishing it out of the biohazard bin, I predict some difficulty on your part in developing such a thing into a “viable child,” as it is my understanding that this process always requires a uterus, to which organ a woman is infallibly attached. In other words, the scenario you describe involves a compulsory pregnancy. Compulsory pregnancy, it turns out, is a crime against humanity.

I Blame the Patriarchy encourages Dude Nation to abandon the Earth-dooming folly of human reproduction and “wanting a baby” altogether.

Hugs,
Twisty

Posted in Compulsory pregnancy, Dear god what about the men?, Hugs, Twisty, Men Hate You and The Argument Against Human Reproduction. Bite me, Chad.

Spinster aunt reads amateur op-ed piece

Published by Jill on November 28, 2009. 49 Comments

Every morning Google sends urgent feminist alerts to my inbox. It’s hilarious, the contexts in which writers of Internet crap chuck that word “feminist” around.

– Rihanna has a new album; she left her abusive boyfriend, so she’s a feminist icon now.
– You can wear false eyelashes and still be a feminist.
– What should we do if feminists try to take over the world?

Here’s a dude who says he became a feminist because his daughter has “big brown eyes.” Those dreamboat peepers of hers caused Walter Backstrom, writing in the Tacoma, Washington News Tribune, to look into the whole global women’s rights dealio, that he might gain some insight on what the future has in store for his little princess. What Daddy finds is patriarchal oppression out the wazoo, but sadly he ignores the obvious conclusions, preferring instead to recite a predictable and xenophobic list of injustices of which everyone on earth is already well aware and, as has been well-documented, doesn’t give a flying fuck about.

In some African countries, sexual slavery and sexual mutilation are still the norm. In some Arabic countries, young girls can’t go to school and woman [sic] can’t drive a car.

The bad men, they’re all over there.

“Doing my research, I discovered myself becoming a feminist.”

Hello, God? It’s me, Walter.

Too bad Walter didn’t research “feminism”; if he had, he might not have written this knucklehead crap:

“A feminist is a person who believes in equal rights for men and women.”

Oh, Walter. Walter, Walter. That’s not a feminist, that’s a marketing gimmick. A feminist is an activist who seeks liberation from sex-based oppression.

[Omigod, Jill did not just define feminism! Who died and left her in charge of gurgling out feminist ideology on her own website! Feminism is about whatever ya want it to be about, such as the right to make your husband do laundry, in return for which emasculating sacrifice you agree to wear porn drag in bed.]

Walter continues:

“[...] I realized that women are not paid at the same rate as men, that domestic violence is still a fact of life in the U.S. and the rap music that young people listen to on the radio denigrates women by using the “B” word.”

Well, stop the presses, Walter!

It kind of turbulates the innards to contemplate that old Walter claims he is just now noticing this shit for the first time. What kind of “research” did he have to do before coming into possession of these tired old pop culture factoids? The village idiot could write a 1000-word essay on this with one lobe tied behind his back. The sex-based pay disparity is, and has been for 40 years, the single most highly publicized “feminist” talking point; “domestic violence” is the central theme of about 47 popular TV cop dramas, 47 more popular TV true crime shows, all local newspapers, and Oprah; and no godbag honky dude who has drawn a breath over the past 3 decades has failed to get bent about rap music (“rap music” means “all black dudes;” rampant misogyny in other pop music genres never sparked the same outrage). Where has Walter been lo these many years? Maybe he spends all his spare time, when he’s not gazing raptly into his daughter’s limpid pools, in church.

“When I started researching the status of women, especially in the Third World, I felt the tears of angels on my shoulders.”

How does that work, exactly? Are the angels teeny-tiny, perching on him like parrots? If so, why wouldn’t Walter say “I felt the feet of angels on my shoulders”? I aver that the effluvia of such tiny shoulder-perching entities would be unlikely to stream out in quantities observable by a human shoulder. Or are these angels very large, floating above him, so that when they weep over Walter’s research, it sort of rains? If so, what physical properties do angels possess such that everything about them except their tears is immune to the Earth’s gravitational pull? And why would Walter feel these tears only on his shoulders? Does he wear an angel-tear-repellent hat? Do the angels have spray bottles that they aim at whatever body part they think might make the most sentimental impact?

Walter, with his touched soul, aching heart, and moist shoulders, doesn’t make much sense in this weird essay, particularly when he appears to sort of fleetingly comprehend that women’s oppression is a humanitarian crisis, but only, apparently, in the “third world,” and although we need to “help” those miserable third world women, he himself, most assuredly, “won’t be joining any feminist group such as the National Organization for Women, and certainly [not] Planned Parenthood, since I am a conservative and pro-life.”

Well, now it all falls into place. Walter hates women after all. The idea of helpless foreign sex slaves makes him sort of sad, but if they get knocked up old Walter doesn’t mind laying claim to their personal bodily sovereignty. No wonder Walter’s essay is irrational. No argument in favor of feminism can make sense if its author can observe irrefutable evidence of patriarchy while simultaneously maintaining that godbag asshole dudes should be able to string women up by the uterus with this churchy compulsory pregnancy crap.

O Walter! Walter, Walter. Those aren’t angel tears on your shoulders! It’s spinster aunt spit!

Posted in Compulsory pregnancy, Godbagism, Knobjectivism, Magical Mysteries from Godtown, Mass Media, Men Hate You, Private Business of the Secret Feminist Society and Ways in Which the Internet Is a Hoot. Bite me, Chad.

Same stupak, different day

Published by Jill on November 15, 2009. 70 Comments

Stupak

I Blame the Patriarchy marches to the beat of a different news cycle, so this may be ancient history to you, but,

Stupak!

I propose that “stupak” be incorporated into common usage as a verb meaning “to ensure political victory by means of screwing women over bigtime.”

My mind is not boggled that the health care “reform” bill passed the House only because it contains an amendment (the aforementioned Stupak amendment) that would make it illegal for private insurance companies to offer abortion coverage, even when women pay for it out-of-pocket, if those women are also receiving federal insurance dough. It isn’t the least bit surprising that 64 Democrats voted for the bill [view the lip-curling list of politicians who hate you], and that 12 of those were women. It’s scarcely a blip on the Patri-O-Meter that Nancy Collaborator Pelosi was described by HuffPo last week as “triumphant,” and that Barack Godbag Apologist Obama looks forward to signing the bill into law.

Why am I not surprised?

I’ll tell you why.

Patriarchy is a big, boily ass lounging on two fundamental butt-cheeks, without which cheeks it would develop abscesses and go septic and die. Those two butt-cheeks are: sex-based dominance, sex-based submission, and the rapeability of women. OK, three butt-cheeks. Dominance, submission, the rapeability of women, and an almost fanatical devotion to compulsory pregnancy. Four. Four butt-cheeks. Although dominance and submission, as two sides of the same thong, should really only count as one cheek. So make that three cheeks total. Although when you think about it, since the rapeability of women and compulsory pregnancy are merely the practical applications of domination ideology, they’re all really pretty much the same thing. So, for the sake of clarity, let’s just say there is one big honkin butt — the state ownership of women — lolling in a louche manner upon the two cheeks: the rapeability of women, and compulsory pregnancy.

What I’m getting at is this: my lack of surprise at this Stupak shit proceeds from irrefutable evidence that state ownership of women is among the most beloved of our violent culture’s violent traditions. Social conservatives appear to believe that God made patriarchy in his own image, and that he will withdraw his complimentary concierge services and cancel Christmas, NASCAR, and life everlasting if the state stops oppressing women for even one second. So-called progressives just want uninterrupted access to pussy.

Also, people just plain like oppressing women.

That’s why, as part of the ongoing effort to keep women rapeable, rapists are generously protected by the law. Convictions are a joke. They are such a joke that 60% of victims never bother to report their assaults. They are such a joke that at least 20,000 rape kits are sitting around untested in various crime labs across the country. According to RAINN, only 6 percent of rapists ever see the inside of the hoosegow.

“Somehow all we can do is take the statement from the victim. Take the statement from the alleged perpetrator and then throw up our hands because they are saying conflicting things,” quoth this U Mass rape scholar.

If people genuinely wanted to see the end of rape, which they don’t, they’d rescind the Global Accords Governing Fair Use of Women, replacing it with the following: if a woman says she was raped, she was raped. If that’s your DNA, Chad old boy, you’re a rapist. That’s it. The end. “Throwing up our hands” would be discontinued as a law enforcement technique.

So you know that stipulation in the Stupak amendment which would except pregnancies resulting from rape? Happily for fans of the status quo, since 94% of those will never be proven as rapes, denial of access to abortion can continue to oppress all but the wealthiest women.

Although our violence-loving society sort of pretends to pooh-pooh rape, it thinks nothing of claiming state ownership of women’s personal internal organs. Everybody’s fucking ecstatic about this health care “reform” bill. It’s “answering the call of history.” Which history, as usual, calls for women to take it up the butt and like it.

Posted in Compulsory pregnancy, Men Hate You, Oppression Culture, Politics, Rape Culture, The Spinster's Finger on the Pulse of Today, The Spinster's Finger on the Pulse of Yesterday and Women hate you. Bite me, Chad.