Feminist Rage-A-Holics UNITE!

Behold one of the finest of all the wymyn’s livejournals: the Feminist Rage Page! It brings a fond tingle to my naughty bits… bits for which no man is worthy.

Feminist Rage is a stewing and unfathomable sea of forever-churning FURY FURY FURY!!! A gleaming reservoir of pure grrl-venom.

Rage is an emotion that us feminists are quite familiar with. Some of us even have brains that have been half-melted by it.

In their keen master-plan, the members of the Feminist Rage livejournal community strive to combat the stereotype of man-hating feminists by living-up to the stereotype as much as humanly possible. Allow me to illustrate with this Venn diagram:

FeministRage

As you can see above, true Feminist Rage™ results from a wonderful convergence of several ingredients, any one of which is enough to make you a womyn’s-libber. What boosts the F-Ragers a step above the rest is that they nurture the whole kaboodle. This accounts for the hair-trigger offense-taking at the everyday world which us feisty wimmin find to be so profound.

Their entire online community is dedicated to compiling and cataloging tale after tale of petty and unassociated gripes. They never seem to resolve any of their problems, but revel in being horribly indignant about it all. Every day, womyn such as myself can find yet another reason to simmer in grouchiness always. Their transcendent state of exasperation can be illustrated by this case in point:

It’s always a good way to start the morning: gender confusion with my cappuccino.

Just now, I went to get a pair of headphones at the educational resources desk in the library. The day supervisor looked at me and grunted (loudly): “Can I help you, ma’am? … Or sir. I can’t really tell.”

Unfortunately, my eye-lasers didn’t char him to a crisp. I should’ve remembered to grease the engine last night.

I wanted to leap across the desk and stand in front of him and WAVE MY FIST and holler: “I’m SO SORRY that I had BREAST REDUCTION SURGERY for my HEALTH and that NOW you can’t TELL what kind of body I have under my BOYFRIEND’S shirt because you can’t see my TINY TINY WAIST or SMALLER BOOBS and I’m SO SORRY that the mousse in my SHORT spiky hair CONFUSES you and I don’t have LONG PAINTED NAILS or MAKEUP to help you out there with your STARE. Why don’t you pay me 87 cents while you’re at it? BECAUSE ULTIMATELY DOES IT MATTER?”

The nerve of that asshole’s confusion. It’s not THAT hard to tell if the author is a grown womyn or a clean-shaven teenage boy. See for yourself:

FeministRager

I can’t comprehend where that clerk’s bewilderment came from. The author does her utmost to appear androgenous as a way of protesting the concept of beauty and understandably goes mad with pique when somebody has trouble figuring out what sex she is. Fuckin’ Patriarchy.

Day after day, the Feminist Ragers tally how disrespect for wimmin resides in every nook and cranny and how it hides behind every rock and tree. Whenever our plucky Rage-A-Holics encounter those who do not capitulate to their fanatic outlook, they have enough wit to pelt miscreants with ingenious retorts like: “You really suck!” and “Go to hell!”

Say, did you ever notice that outrage, ire, resentment, pissed-offedness, the kicking of groins and the sticking-up of middle fingers permeate much of the feminist blogosphere in general? As you can see from the quote above, angry fantasies of retribution are one of feminism’s central rhetorical themes.

In my case, much of this goes back to one of my childhood imaginings. Late at night, I would pull the covers over my head and pretend that I was secretly descended from a bloodline of Carpathian princesses. I wished that one day a scroll of parchment would appear in my mailbox and the truth would suddenly be revealed to my evil step-parents, who would then grovel for my forgiveness. And in all my aristocratic splendor, I would publicly humiliate and destroy all of those who had been even slightly rude to me on past occasions that they’d long since forgotten.

I became a feminist when it suddenly dawned on me that my daydream would never come to attainment.

At this point, all I have to say is: Thank you, Feminist Rage!!

Thank you for showing us that all mundane things in the world actually have hidden sexist subtexts underlying them. Most of all, thank you for demonstrating that “crazy feminists” do not exist and never have existed.

Full steam ahead and RAGE THE FUCK ON!!!

Equality Through Double-Standards

Although men are commonly likened to dogs and there are plenty of books and articles about how to train your man as if he were a dog, if one person applies the exact same idea to women then we feminists must scream for his head on a platter.

But we feminists can occasionally object to the characterization of men as dogs on a very narrow technicality: it could be remotely interpreted as helping to excuse male bad behavior. But except for that, calling men dogs is an otherwise inoffensive statement and does not deserve censure.

That principle is almost worthy enough to include it with The Sweet Pink Rules of Feminism, is it not?

Male Feminists: Can We Trust Them?

Girls, beware! Your male feminist “friend” might not be exactly what he led you to believe he is!

The shocking story which follows will surely strike fear into the delicate hearts of womyn everywhere!

Let me preface this by saying that Ted had been my friend for 10 long, wonderful years. He was always at the rallies with me, he’d helped me file my last three rape-lawsuits, and he even bought bras for our ritual burnings. Best of all, his existence functioned as a useful foil whenever I was accused of hating men. His usual tagline was always: “men are pigs!” Needless to say, I was suckered-in by his cunning act of subterfuge for obvious reasons.

Two days ago, I received the shock of my life. It was a bad omyn for anyone who is acquainted with a so-called “male feminist”.

I stopped by Ted’s house, as I do every weekday, to pick up that afternoon’s edition of Oprah. Ted always records Oprah for me, since my high-powered college-career doesn’t allow me to stay home and watch it. Not only that, I learned some years ago that the VCR was invented by (ugh!) a man. That’s why I refuse to own a single piece of technology which has been generated by my patriarchal, fascist oppressors! Consequently, my apartment is somewhat empty.

But anyway, I parked on the street beside the personhole cover outside his apartment, as I usually do, and approached Ted’s door. I knocked (Ted had long ago removed the doorbell, another pigheaded male invention!), but there was no answer.

This was when I noticed the door was slightly ajar. I figured it would be all right if I walked inside, maybe Ted was douching or something.

“Ted!”, I bellowed in my non-gender specific way. No response. By now I was worried as I carefully walked down the hallway. Ted’s Judy Gorman CD was blasting away at full volume, so maybe he simply didn’t hear me.

That’s when I approached the hallway bathroom and saw something so shocking that it will be burned into my mind forever.

He had just finished urinating and I startled him as he stood up from the toilet. He suddenly spun toward me– the faint of heart among you should read no further!

TED HAD A PENIS!

Yes, you read that right! I gave a bloodcurdling and independent yelp of pure, righteous indignation and stumbled backwards in shock. Scrambling on my hands and knees towards the exit, I found myself crying out, “Save me, Betty Friedan!

A look of horrified shame came across Ted’s face as he scrambled to button his fly (no zippers for Ted. You guessed it, another patriarchal invention to further adulate the oppressive male organ!) He attempted to say something, but he saw my look of shock and was rendered speechless. After I ran, screaming, from the house I haven’t spoken to Ted since.

I shudder at the very thought that the most intelligent, sensitive, modern, and politically correct person of “that” sex would possess a disgusting implement of rape!

How can a MAN think straight with his dangling tool trying to attack every woman in sight? How can I sleep at night when these pretenders, these “male feminists,” lack an all-benevolent uterus?

I drove straight to the police station to report that I was viciously assaulted by a team of 18-foot-tall slobbering lacrosse players. Ted and a dozen others were rounded-up and arrested within hours. Another feminist victory!

Let this be a stern lesson to all of you. Just because “male feminists” pretend to agree with us doesn’t mean they’re not agents of the Patriarchy, my systyrs. Our precious vaginas are inlaid with sapphires and squirt rubies once a month; that is why men are persistently drawn to its precious majesty. Any time a man ever supports anything you believe, he’s just trying to get closer to plundering your most valuable treasure.

Always remember: any man who questions anything a feminist has ever written is trying to oppress us. And any man who agrees with anything a feminist has ever said is just trying to get into our pants and earn a long jail sentence.

Don’t trust anything a man says, you should always presume his very worst possible motives instead. He should always be judged by the fact that he has that fetid “thing” between his legs. Ugh!

Oh, yes some of them may fool you for a while but you should never let your guard down. I’m just so hurt right now because Ted had never seemed the type.

“I’m Not A Hate-Filled Wacko, But…”

If you haven’t done so, I suggest you visit the rage-a-holic blog I’m Not A Feminist, But… The title perfectly sums-up the frustrating sentiment that we feminists often sense from the everyday non-feminist ladies around us.

Although many wimmyn out there agree with what we feminists claim to have as our goals, many of these same people treat us as if we’re a bunch of female sexists who habitually blame men for everything and condescend to those who live outside our closed-minded clique of yes-yessing groupthinkers. I can’t imagine how a non-feminist woman could ever acquire such a ludicrous idea.

I guess most women are extremely stupid.

Yeah, that’s it. They are too stupid to know what’s best for them and they resent our superior feminist intellect.

Anyway, the feisty ass-kicker Laura who runs the aforementioned site made a most remarkable post about hate.

Hate is a base and destructive emotion that she herself does not feel towards men, but she emphasizes over and over that it’s perfectly reasonable if she ever did hate men. Which she clearly doesn’t, despite everything which suggests the exact opposite:

So I woke up in a bad mood today. And I lay in bed and thought about hate (yeah, I’m in a pretty bad mood). Do you know what’s really, really not funny about hate? That, apparently, feminists all hate men, and yet all the evidence points to the opposite: men hate feminists. Not only that; men hate women. Men hate me.

So, you see, ALL men hate ALL women. This in of itself is not a hateful accusation to make, especially since it’s an indiscriminatory broad-brushed smear. And she’s quite comfortable making such a statement. I guess that suggests exactly how hate-addled she isn’t.

There is, in fact, no evidence that any feminist hates men or has ever hated men. No matter how many contemptuous, poisonous and malicious generalizations a feminist might ever make about every man who has ever lived since the beginning of time– it’s not man-hating. Nor is it even tacky. Laura herself is completely untainted by gender-based demagoguery because… she is a feminist.

Only a man’s feeble brain is capable of unprincipled malevolence. In contrast, we feminsts only hate others for decent, high-minded and progressive reasons. We hate the hate that ALL men and ONLY men are ever capable of.

Hate can be a very dangerous thing indeed. It can cloud one’s judgment, devour one’s soul and distort one’s views. It can easily lead to dehumanizing stereotypes and wild accusations sort of like the ones you see all over her non-man-hating blog:

1. Men hate me when they rape. I am lucky enough not to have been raped (yet), but I still feel that hate. I feel it when I read that 60,000 women a year are raped in the UK alone. I feel it when I know that, all around the world, women are being raped right this minute, right this second. I feel it because I know that we are not being raped by crazy psychopaths lying in wait in a dark alley as the media would have as believe, but by normal, ordinary, everyday men, by husbands, ex-husbands, boyfriends, friends, fathers, brothers, bosses, partners, ex partners, soldiers, policemen, the list goes on…

Indeed. The average man will rape you some day. She is not saying that ALL men are rapists because that would be crazy. She’s just saying thatnormal, ordinary, everyday men are rapists and are no different from crazy psychopaths.

Conveniently, such a thing is not hate if a feminist says it. Sure, it might seem creepy and sick and hateful if a non-feminist were to say such a thing, butnot when a feminist says it.

For the sake of argument, if she were to say that she sees the average black man as a potentially cruel attacker of whom you should be deathly afraid, then that would definitely be hate.

If she were to say that the average Mexican man is a scary, lust-filled thug with no self-control, that would certainly be hate. No question about it.

To say the exact same thing about ALL men in general is absolutely NOT hate at all. Nope. It’s a solemn statement of fact!

Whether you’re a genocidal man like Hitler or a man who talks with his mouth full, you’re BOTH equally evil. We feminists don’t hate you for it, though. But it’d be perfectly reasonable if we ever decided to start hating you because you so richly deserve it. Every last one of you!

Getting back to Laura’s list of why she ought to hate men:

2. Men hate me when they use porn…

3. Men hate me when they type ‘rape virgens’ into google, or ‘cut breasts fuck’, or ‘three men brutally rape woman’…

4. Men hate me when they harrass women in clubs, on the streets, in the park, in bars, on the beach, at the bus stop…

5. Men hate me when they buy lads mags and calculate how much their girlfriend costs per fuck…

6. Men hate me when they ask their girlfriends to get a boob job to spice up their sex life…

7. Men hate me when they make malicious, sexist jokes…

8. Men hate me when they question women’s right to equal pay…

It seems that hate-based acts can constitute an almost-unlimited range of things! But through it all, Laura doesn’t stoop to hating men.

Her gracious refusal to descend as low as men speaks very well of her moral character. And if she ever changed her mind and started hating men tomorrow then it wouldn’t seem like a very long bridge for her to cross, would it? It probably wouldn’t look much different from what she says right now, in fact.

But anyway, although this raving farrago of uncharitable accusations looks suspiciously like something from a bigot-in-denial who desperately wishes to rationalize the contents of her black little heart, Laura doesn’t feel any antipathy towards the shittier sex at all:

11. Men hate me when they pay money to control women in a strip club.

Fortunately, the strippers themselves don’t contribute to hatred against Laura; they’re completely off the hook.

When a woman applies for work at a strip club, she has no choice in the matter at all. None. Zero. Her signature on the work-contract means absolutely zilch. She was forced.

Forced by invisible brainwashing laser-beams from outer space. I guess that’s how the Patriarchy manages to “control women in a strip club.” And this mind-control is what prevents women from teaching math at Harvard, designing microchips and running for President. Because those are exactly what most exotic dancers would be doing if strip clubs didn’t exist.

The last item on her laundry list widens the net of male assholery even further, implicating an ever-growing gang of criminals:

14. Men hate me when they attempt to justify/ deny /defend any of the above.

Surely, the men who deny being bastards are the worst bastards of all!

If you’re a man who denies hating women then it can only mean YOU HATE WOMEN! Laura’s femi-logic is as sound as it always is. Men are guilty until proven innocent and they’re still guilty thereafter. Men’s denials of guilt are tacit admissions of their guilt because men are liars, every last one of ‘em.

After she laboriously compiles all this stuff, Laura starts to think she doth protested too little. That’s why she felt the need to clarify exactly what it means to not hate men:

EDIT: Just to clarify, when I say I don’t hate men, I don’t mean that I don’t hate rapists and abusers – of course I do – I mean rather that I do not hate men as a genaralized category of people…

…Which is why she obessively conflates “rapists and abusers” with “men” in general. As if all men are criminals in her mind. As if all men need to be punished for the act of any one man.

Yes, according to Laura’s wonderfully stunted feminist brain, “Men” are a unified hive-minded entity not unlike The Borg!

TheBorg

One adjunct of The Patri-Borg-archy is just as guilty as every other adjunct! The bastards.

Except, um, there’s no Borg Queen. And there’s no Seven of Nine, either. Just… er… MEN ARE EVIL, okay? And we feminists don’t hate men even though hatred would precisely explain everything we say about men. Let’s just leave it at that.

In the comments below this post, not one person disagreed with Laura’s insightful entry.

Always the astute psychoanalyst, Biting Beaver remarked:

Many men are capable of great amounts of projection. Always fearful that we hate them, why? Because they hate us and of course, we MUST hate them.

Yup, paranoid projection can be really nasty. Surely, no feminist ever has projections which cause her to conclude that most men– and never herself– are the ones who project? In the days before she took psychology, Biting Beaver would’ve just said: “I am rubber, you are glue, it bounces-off me and sticks to you.”

Since she is never one to protest too much, Biting Beaver’s profile belies its hilarious castration imagery and reveals that she isn’t a man-hater, contrary to very convincing appearances which could easily fool anyone:

No, I don’t hate men, I hate The Patriarchy.

If a man with a Blogger nickname of, say, “PainfulRapeCock” were to say on his profile “No, I don’t hate women, I hate Matriarchies”, we feminists would presumably consider it a good-humored jest. Never would we regard such an individual as being a deranged hater of women because we feminists just love to apply equal standards.

Later, the commenter FallingStar opines:

…I don’t *hate* men either but obviously I hate the ones that are capable of hurting women…

She hates only the “capable” men, such as the ones with two arms and two legs. I guess there are a few amputees she could get along with famously. And some of the quadriplegics out there might be okay. Maybe.

Returning to Laura’s first line in her post, I simply can not figure-out why anybody would ever accuse a feminist of man-hating. Even though hating men is totally and 100% justified, we would never do such a thing. That would be so… male.

My Latino Boyfriend Broke-Up With Me!!

Well Gyrls, it finally happened.

The man whom I had generously allowed into my personal space has let me down for the last time! (Cue the lighting bolts and thunder!)

My Latino boyfriend, who proves that I am not a man-hater, is now my EX-Latino boyfriend!

God damn piece of shit! PATRIARCHAL RAPE-TOOL HAVER!

Yes I really am THAT angry, systers! I am so angry that I am perfectly calm. This level of fury has never before been exposed on this site and I hope any manpig reading this is torn to shreds by its force. Let this be a warning! Men really ARE the evil abusers we feminists routinely (and perfectly fairly) characterize them as. And I am surviving proof of it! I know you share my pain in a completely powerful and fulfilling way so I feel safe telling you about the horror of the last few days…

I won’t go into the details of our prior “association” (the mere thought that he came anywhere near me with the barbarous device he calls “genitalia” fills me with dread) however I had always felt that this “man” was more of a “lady” than anything else. Before anyone takes that as an insult (how could any MAN ever compare to womyn’s glory I ask you??) you should know that he really did behave like a proper lady-boy. I obviously and unfortunately mistook him as being a SAFE male because he was NO such thing!

His meek little act and deceptively callow physique only allowed him to fraudulently ensnare me with his evil male gaze!

How did I come to realize this and escape his grasping man-claws? In an instant of carelessness, a crack formed in his little facade and I was too clever to miss it.

It happened when we were alone together, waching my “Thelma and Louise” DVD for the 53,143th time. Just after the bit when the guy said “bitch” and Thelma righteously shot him, my ex-Latino boyfriend said: “You know, this film is starting to feel a little stale.”

My mouth dropped open and that’s when I slapped the dickless loser across the back of his pitiful little pin-head!

Instead of thanking me for freeing his mind of such crazy thoughts, he suddenly looked hurt and bewildered… I mean WTF?! If he’s hurt by a little playful slapping then how can he STAND-UP FOR ME in the face of other men? I mean, I handle myself really well of course but the powerful Patriarchal rape-squads like the ones at Duke U parties are simply more than any powerful womyn like me can fight on her own. And since the rape-squads are literally EVERYWHERE, you can see how dire the situation is!

I started callling him every bad word I can. Deservedly so! After a forty-minute yelling tirade, (which is unusually short by my standards) I left the swine crying in the living room.

Once I realized that he had NO INTENTION OF PROTECTING ME and was merely using me for his own twisted pleasure, I resolved to rush-out to an emergency counseling session to help me avoid this kind of dishonest trap again.

And he even said that he “loved” me. (PUKE!) As if men can possibly feel love in the vast and infinite way womyn feel it!

Also, I’m pretty sure that the stupid little boy raped me at some point, though it might be a repressed memory.

So ex-boyfriend is GONE now gyrrrls, and there really are NO GOOD MEN out there. Now I am free to pursue the goals of universal systerhood to the benefit of us all. My fury and destructive power knows no bounds and no more mercy will be shown to the oppressor classes!

And you’d better believe that my next Latino boyfriend will know how to watch his mouth.

Open Topic Thread For (GAG) Men

Lately, I’ve been getting some criticism for deleting the whiny little opinions of men who post in the comment sections.

Why do those bastards insist on barging their way into what is clearly meant to be a womyn’s place?

EVERY web-page out there is a man’s web-page, anyway. Why can’t we tough, strong wymyn have “safe spaces” where we can “protect ourselves” from “feelings of intimidation”?

Because I want to put an end to the pathetic small-dicked whining that I’m always bombarded with, I’m allowing this comment thread to be open to men. It will be uncensored and they can post whatever the fuck is on their rape-obsessed teeny little minds.

Go ahead, you pricks. Like I care what you have to say.

Update:

Topic closed, all entries deleted. You shit-brained bastards!! FUCK YOU!!!!

I am never doing that again!!

Give Me None Of Your Patriarchal “Sanity”!

All throughout last week I was enjoying past issues of feminista!, the grandly-named “Journal of Feminist Construction”.

Just a quick look-through will prove beyond a doubt that feminist journals always maintain the highest standards of quality writing.

At the very least, you certainly won’t get the impression that a significant number of the contributing authors call themselves feminists to distract people from how intellectually-stunted they are.

The cover-art is a lovely depiction of a young womyn in the process of becoming wicked high and/or possessed by the feminista spirit:

FeministaCover “Ahh, that’s good dogma!”

And one of the finest examples of this genre is A Call for Young Women To Get Mad!

Its author, Delaie Woodlock of Australia, has the middling English and awkward diction to prove she is a vagina warrior of extreme pissed-offedness. One who takes no shit from no one!

Not from men. Not from society. And certainly not from the team of psychologists who have irritated her so much throughout life.

What is most inspiring about Ms. Woodlock is that she is not afraid to question the very concept of sanity itself:

When we discover the reality, that merely believing you are free doesn’t make it happen or mean it is true, of course we get even more depressed, unresponsive and suicidal. Then to add to our pain we are told our brains are what are making us mad. We have faulty biology, broken brains, and out of control emotions. Our madness is solved simply with a mind-altering drug and we are not only turned into emotionless robots but also cash cows for pharmaceutical companies. Pathologised. Psychiatrized. Duped.

For those of you who have an unruly, mad woman mind like I do, I urge you to question the mental illness industry. For years I was bounced around by shrinks who either blamed me, my brain, or my mum for my fears. I have been drugged and gone through the terrible withdrawals. I still suffer from bouts of agoraphobia and while patriarchy is in power, I probably always will. But I refuse to let them silence me. I will not be blamed any longer. I can’t live in a constant state of happiness as long as women, animals, and the earth continue to be raped and murdered. Know that it is okay to get in dark, wild moods, to lock yourself away sometimes, and to be scared. If you can, try to reject any form of drugs (some call them chemical lobotomies). I know that some women’s pain is so overwhelming that it needs to be soothed by drugs, and that just makes me madder. Question the malestream mind-fuckers and find an alternative feminist therapist if you need to.

YES! At last, someone has the ovaries to say “malestream mind-fuckers” without a trace of irony!

My fellow so-called “psychotic” womyn of oppression, I ask that you join me in bashing the useless, male-dominated myntal illness industry.

For years, I was subjected to wrongheaded shrinks who were negligent in not recognizing that PATRIARCHY was the root of my problems. It has been a classic case of misdiagnosis. These bastards even went so far as to blame my mom, with no mention of my pigheaded father who was never around to abuse me.

I’m living proof that so-called “psychologists” are a collection of frauds! Not to mention theRAPISTS. It should be clear that the patriarchy is the downfall of womyn everywhere. But be advised: my voice WILL be heard!!!! I will not stand idly by while men exist, er, that is, while men continue to harbor so much control over my precious myntal health. Those bastards are hiding in my air-ducts, like the bugs that crawl out of the shower at night sometimes to mock me.

So-called “doctors” told me to take pill after pill, yet nothing changed in the world around me. Why didn’t they make everybody else take a pill, huh? The fuckers!

In fact, I was sometimes physically tied-down and forced to take pills by vile heteronormative fascist womb-butchers!

By all means, consult with womyn mind-healers only. Only a womyn could possibly have the intelligence and competence to properly handle a womyn’s myntal health. Not that there’s any difference between the brains of men and women, mind you. Except that the male brain is pitiful and limited, while the female brain is not. And no different from it.

Someday, when we achieve a proper utopia of ekwalitee, I’ll feel better. But until that day, I can only suffer in silence without complaining because I refuse to complain about anything.

Dont listen to anyone who claims to be from an asylum or the police. They are secretly in league with the saucer-people who scheme to pump poison gas into your house through the toaster!

And don’t let anyone tell you that you’re a raving crackpot who badly needs so-called “professional help”!

Edwards-Maggotte ‘08!

It’s been a long time since my update, but I assure you that’s it’ll be well worth the wait for what I have to tell you…

In a glorious turn of events, the wholly-qualified Yours Truly has been designated head Blogmistress for John Edwards’s presidential campaign!

EdwardsPhoto

What’s a Blogmistress? It’s the non-fuckheaded designation for a vagina-bearing persyn who writes intertron-words, you fucking fuck.

And I know what everyone is wondering: Why me?

Well, I deserve it. Nyah!

And why John Edwards, the multimillionaire former tort-lawyer?

This is a good question.

Why is it that after years of ranting about wealthy white penis-wielding politicians who control all the wealth and won’t give womyn (and maybe some minorities) their fair share… I’m wetting myself over the prospect of finally working for one?

Why is it that after years of staunchy resisting American Blood-For-Oil Imperialism in Iraq… I’m creaming my thong about joining the team of a former Senator who voted to authorize the use of military force against Iraq?

Why is it that after denigrating all those religious assholes out there who pollute this country by worshipping a penis-bearing oppressor “god” instead of the Smegmatic Moon Goddess of Nine Vaginas… I’m going to bite my tongue about a man who wants their votes?

And why is it that after railing endlessly against the inky-black corrupt evilness of the Patriarchy… I’m perfectly happy to accept the Patriarchy’s junkets, paid-for trips, free buffets, catered lunches and all that other neato VIP stuff that comes with serving it?

Well, I’ll tell you why: I’m a-takin’ the whole system down from the inside, baby! That’s why!

WHOO-YEAH!

That’s right, you heard it right here: I shall use my moderate amount of authority to wield power behind the scenes. This is something that womyn can never do because men oppress them too much. Even though we’re exactly as strong and smart as they are, we’ve always ended-up being oppressed slaves for some reason.

Bad luck or something.

Well anyway, as the power behind the scenes I plan to ooze the righteous creed of anger-based feminism across this rotted, goddessless nation!

Soon all phallic symbols- every missile, skyscraper, airplane, and cigar- will all be transformed into a much more aesthetically pleasing (and somewhat less oppressive) cunt-shape!

Oh, and as an aside, to counter any right-wing assfucks who try to tell me that this is “impossible” and against the fascist and MALE-CENTERED “laws of engineering,” we’ll be changing that shit as well. So stop whining already, you fuckstains.

Not only that, but I plan to help the Edwards campaign bring-in the votes that are important: the tantra-wicca vote, the lesbian punk-rocker vote, the crack-mom vote… and the REAL feminist vote… you know, none of those half-assed “equality before the law” sellout types who lack the self-esteem to demand all the free stuff that womyn are owed.

I SUPPOSE men can vote for Edwards if they want to, but if I have any say it’ll be the last time those assholes ever get a chance.

If I have any say in the matter, the 2008 election would be the last hurrah of the Patriarchy. No matter how much it hurts.

Perhaps within three years, all men will be barefoot and chained to a stove by their dicks, forced to cook dinner and birth babies until they die? This is EXACTLY the kind of thing that happened to womyn for thousands of years.

But this is simply going to be beautiful! Using my power of owning a website (not an easy task on the cock-dominated intermatrix!), I will write words – Words straight from my glorious runny vagyna!

But now I’m packing-off to North Carolina.

By the hairs on my tits, I vow to single-handedly drive Edwards into the White House in 2008. The Patriarchy won’t know what hit ‘em!

Male Longevity Hits Women The Hardest

A few days ago, the New York Times published an article about the life-expectancy differences between the sexes. It’s one gender-gap that we feminists don’t ever protest because it’s an inequality which favors womyn, who are the biologically superior sex by far.

The article is entitled: The Bell Tolls for the Future Merry Widow (registration required for reading.)

The background? The gap between male and female life expectancy is narrowing:

…the National Center for Health Statistics reports this month that the gap between them has shrunk to five years, the narrowest since 1946. If current trends continue, in 50 years men and women will live the same length of time.

And if we feminists actually liked men, we’d consider this to be good news.

But alas, we don’t and it isn’t.

As Kate Zernike, the author, astutely points-out: if men were to live longer, they will only use their extra years to make us wimmin miserable:

This is better news for men than for women, if you believe some economists and therapists. It’s not just the extra years; it’s all those extra meals to prepare.

The nerve! Those damned men will be able to continue breathing air which is rightfully ours! By their inconsiderate failure to croak on schedule, men will do something that winds-up hitting us poor wimmin the hardest.

That’s because in the eyes of us feminists, sharing old age with the person you’ve loved for many years can only be a complete hell for the wife. As the article informs us, everything is infinitely better once those nasty men grow enough brains to kick the bucket and give their suffering captives some peace:

Women not only do fine despite a spouse’s death, they may even do better.

“In married couples, women tend to be the ones who manage the social sphere,” said Laura L. Carstensen, a professor of psychology at Stanford University and director of the Life-span Development Laboratory there. “They’re the ones who make dinner plans and invite friends over for weekends. So a man loses a social network, whereas a woman continues to make plans and see people.”

So why don’t those bastards just up and DIE already? As long as they will us their money, that is. That’s all that they’re good for:

There is a lot of poverty among older single women, so if men live longer, that’s good economically, for women and men,” Ms. Hartmann said. “Men are generally happier when they’re married. The women may not be happier, but at least they’ve got more money.”

If I ever got married, (PUKE!) I’d simply order the jerk to throw me his wallet and jump-off the nearest skyscraper. That’d save us each a lot of trouble.

Well my systyrs, I think the next step is for us to protest the closing of this longevity gap. We must petition the government to forbid health care for elderly men so that more widows can enjoy their old age in happy solitude!

In fact, we must do everything we possibly can to ensure that men die in vast numbers and leave us on the splendid, all-wimmin planet that we feminists yearn for in our works of unspeakably bad science fiction and in our genocidal political manifestos which we proudly showcase at Sweet Briar College, as if such rantings have intellectual merit.

Update:

As recommended by the commenter Hujo, I am now looking at an article in the British Medical Journal which rejoices that when it comes to life expectancy, women are now on top everywhere! Hooray for equality! And some of the letters in reaction to it– correction, the fucking pathetic small-dicked whining in reaction to it– is quite revealing:

With distress I read your editorial titled “Life expectancy: women now on top everywhere”; from its coquettish title to the inflammatory quote by Timothy Leary, proponent for the therapeutic and spiritual benefits of LSD, all the way to the first sentence’s disdainful and sexist encouragement for “at least a quiet celebration” that women can now expect to live longer than men everywhere. Can you imagine the outcry if such a remark in a medical journal were directed towards women—well, there’s the politically correct point: such a hateful remark directed at women would never be allowed.

“Wahh! Wahh! Wahh! Look at me, I’m a fucking misogynist patriarchal loser who doesn’t understand the meaning of equality!”

Oh lookie here. Here’s another small-dicked asshole who is compensating for his small dick:

I found the tone to be offensive, particularly the ‘humourous’ title, along with the Timothy Leary quote, which seems to be an attempt to conflate an ideology (feminism) with medical findings – highly inappropriate.

Oh yeah? Well I say it’s inappropriate to NOT infuse medicine with feminism because medicine is already so patriarchal. Much in the same way that we feminists accuse every blade of grass in the world of being patriarchal.

How far has society gone when we should quietly celebrate men dieing earlier than women?

What happened to the equality movement for women? Were they even looking for equality – judging by this article, no. It is probably a testament to how focused we are on ensuring women get what they want that we actually have people ‘quietly celebrating’ mens shorter life expectancy.

Oh, sure. Blame the feminists for the fact that gleefully celebrating the superiority of women in obstensibly professional medical journals is perfectly acceptible to us when we explode into screaming tantrums whenever anyone suggests that men have even a slight biological advantage over women.

I don’t know where the author got that insane feminist-blaming idea from! Fucking bastard ought to go shoot himself in the head and do us all a favor. Goddess, that’d be fun to watch.

I Knew It!!

The growth of cervical and womb cancers may be fuelled by a hormone-like molecule in semen, a study suggests.

Men cause cancer!!!

I’ve been saying it for years and everyone laughed at me. As much as I hate to say ‘told ya so’ well, I told ya so.

But the sciencetician people who made this discovery are too cowardly to suggest the most obvious solution:

“The most important thing that women can do at this time to prevent cervical cancer from developing is to go for regular cervical smear tests.”

Yeah, don’t attack the real cause of the disease. Good job, guys. Gotta protect those all-important Sieg-Heil! erections of yours.

Pffft! What-the-fuck-ever!