Blow Me
There are a number of reasons I love my wife. This is one of them: Blown out of proportion.
The very first thing I thought both while and after reading that article was, "Uh-oh, look out, here comes Big Brother 'Sensitivity'. It's the new 1984." But being the guy I am and believing in regularly double-checking my perceptions, I decide to ask Jen what she thinks about this.
She gives me a look -- the "that is the goddamn dumbest thing I have ever fucking heard" look -- and says, "I'd probably laugh."
"So, you wouldn't be offended by that?"
She rolls her eyes.
"What do you think about the assertion it was rude because a woman coming through the clubhouse might find it uncomfortable?"
"That's stupid."
That, gentlemen, is exactly why I love my wife: because she's not a freakin' idiot.
And a bit of politics you can skip if you're so inclined: this is why I say the modern feminist movement is a failure and am disgusted by it.
Modern feminism doesn't represent women: modern feminism speaks to women, not for women. (And I mean "to" in the sense of "down to" or "at".)
It tells them what they should be, want, think, do, say, desire, argue and loves using No True Scotsman thinking when confronted by anyone who refuses to capitulate to their view, especially by those with tits.[1]
Modern feminism represents a specific politic. Not women.
Ask Nina Hartley.
Which is why Jen and I are both still classic feminists.
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[1] I know, "They're called breasts!", right? My wife and nearly every other female I know calls them 'tits', too, among other terms.
Which I mention only to say "Thanks!" for proving my above point with forthcoming arguments about "why no woman should do that".
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greyorm) wrote,
