Bowling Balls Hit Women the Hardest

As I type this, the Bush administration is waging a massive War Against Womyn- a war unlike any other!

It is a war that lacks battle-maps, artillery firebases and a formal declaration. It is a war without sand-bagged fortifications, without barbed wire, without kevlar helmets… in fact, it is without anything you’d expect to find in a regular war. Except for victims. And the victims are all on one side: poor, forgotten, sympathy-evoking womyn who suffer oh-so-beautifully and valorously.

The phrase “War Against Womyn” is not an example of vacuous hyperbole or a poorly-chosen melodramatic metaphor. Nor is it indicative of deeply-ingrained persecution fantasies. No, it is an aptly accurate description of every womyn’s life every second of the day, every day of the past 10,000 years. Really it is. And even though us womyn are equally strong and capable as men, we were too weak and incapable to have lifted a finger to help ourselves until the final three decades of the past ten millennia. Such a compelling and believable narrative should never be ignored– nor should it be pondered too critically.

Anyway, the War Against Wymun is also a war of deception. To give a modern example: the penis-having Busheviks* hide their undying hatred for womyn by cynically supporting the voting rights of Iraqi and Afghan womyn. What a diabolical form of reverse-psychology!

Despite this fog of feints and misdirections, us feminists can see what’s really going on under the surface: The Patriarchy’s secret battle-plan calls for the complete annihilation of womyn. And once we’re all dead, we’ll be made into slaves.

Every so often, the Patriarchy will leak their plans in a secret code which is so subtle that only a well-trained feminist can spot it. One such coded example is the sport of bowling.

For only the most naïve of fools could believe that bowling is actually about knocking down “pins”.


Could it be by accident that these “bowling pins” resemble pregnant female forms?

The pins stand there, so innocently and sweetly. They chat back and forth like a flock of gentle hummingbirds sipping the nectar of fragrant daffodils softly bobbing in a warm springtime zephyr. Suddenly, Patriarchy rudely rolls-in like a boulder and sadistically smashes them all, making them suffer and cry-out in agony. “Why?” they wail in unison. “Why must us innocent womyn suffer so gorgeously under the well-polished sphere of Patriarchy??”

It happens over and over in real life, my systyrs. Over and over.

As every feminist knows, the typical man has a schizophrenic, outdated pea-brain which simultaneously loves and despises wide female birthing hips. He despises them because of jealousy, as he cannot have such hips himself. He secretly yearns to become pregnant, which is why he hates womyn’s bodies and wishes to control womyn’s bodies and wishes to roll heavy objects over womyn’s bodies. It’s no wonder that this popular “sport” is little more than a subtle manifestation of this infamous plot.

If you ever watch a bowling match, you’ll see that a male participant gets a voyeuristic thrill every time a handily-immobile womyn-symbol gets knocked-down. And HOW the boys love knocking them down! Battering them. Brutalizing them. Dehumanizing them. Making helpless victims suffer on the floor of an “alley.” Not a single one can be “spared.” Grrrrr!

I challenge you to watch the horror in all its demented ghastliness. Watch their pathetic attempts to prove their manliness. They heft their “balls” from scrotumlike carrying cases and hurl them in Australopithecine feats of strength. Watch as these primitive swine mark their “score” cards in displays of vulgar bravado. Watch them give each other congratulatory high-fives in ritualized self-glorifications after each “strike” when we all know EXACTLY who they’re “striking” in their minds.

Sprinkled among them, you’ll find so-called “women’s bowling leagues”. These ghettoized, subordinate, brainwashed groups are full of dumpy-looking, self-hating collaborators who are required to wear deliberately unflattering shoes and tee-shirts. Every womun must bend to the all-important male will and these pathetic puppets are no exception.


Note their dulled, glazed, Stepford-Wife eyes as they shamble-about in a laughable attempt to ape the behavioral models foisted-upon them by their mighty Alpha-wolf oppressors. These hapless victims don’t comprehend the extent to which their bodies have been enslaved, colonized and deconstructed by the phallocentric terror that this perverse “game” engenders. A terror that pervades everything and everyone, making the control and domination of womyn all the easier!

My systyrs, this relentless symbolic smashing of the female form cannot be allowed to continue. I beseech you to phone every bowling alley in your city and tell them exactly where to cram their tiny pencils!

*“Penis-having Busheviks” may include such personages as Condoleeza Rice, Karen Hughes, Gale Norton, Margaret Spellings, Ann Veneman and Elaine Chao. Us feminists refuse to recognize these individuals as officially lacking penises.