Why men are under attack Exclusive: Dr. Laura Schlessinger tells how women
are indoctrinated, threatened into an anti-male bias
With a WorldNutDaily headline like that, how could I NOT read the article. And I'm glad I did, because now I now why men are under attack (hint: because colleges crush heterosexuality, and women are EEEEVILLLL!)
Stick-ups? Maybe. Seven-up spokesmen? Hell, yes!
I was going to say that I haven't noticed those nasty NOW women attacking much of anything these days (in fact, if you had told me that the organization was disbanded in 1985, I would have believed you). But then I realized that Dr. Laura was covering her bet here by saying NOW-types. Meaning, "People who post mean reviews of Dr. Laura's book on Amazon." And I know THEY exist --I'd join them, but it's easier to just write mean things about Dr. Laura's book here.
Anyway, Dr. Laura has proof of her claim that these vicious thugs are kidnapping women, taking them to secret NOW-type training camps in Canada, and forcing these dupes, at knifepoint, into being biased against men. Yes, she got a letter from Stacie, and it blows the lid off the whole thing.
Yes, along with the crushing of conservatives on campus, the left is also crushing heterosexuality. It's a wonder that kids ever make it through college alive, what with all the crushing, torture, and forced marches.
And Dr. Laura is right: it isn't surprising that fewer men are attending college these days, what with the way that women won't let them be in charge of everything anymore. I hear that some college even have a few female engineering professors! And remember that professor who we heard about on the Rush Limbaugh show (the one who wrote on the blackboard that there isn't just one type of marriage)? Well, SHE was a woman. So, two examples: that's proves it!
But let's see what deeper insights we can glean from Stacie's letter:
You know, spatial orientation, physical endurance, math, thinking logically, running the country, going down with the Titanic, voting -- stuff like that.
Well, the poor things were probably too shy and timid to speak up. You know how men hate arguments, strong opinions, and loud noises.
Stacie, they really blew it by picking on you that day, because their thuggery caused them to miss out on the many other brilliant insights that you could have shared with them.
Yes, Stacie graduated from college (with highest honors, mind you), and now has a husband and two children. And those harpies who picked on her that day? They are all bitter spinsters, envying Stacie her fufilled feminity. Sure, they all head Fortune 500 companies now, thanks to their man-hating viewpoints, but their wealth, power, and fame hasn't brought them love. Well, not the kind of love that Stacie has -- if they are married at all, it's to feminized idiots who listen to A.M radio all day, and write sad letters to Dr. Laura, asking why their wives are such bitches. And Stacie makes it a point to go to the bars where these demoralized husbands congretate, and then seduces them. She'll make those bitches pay for having humilated HER!
So, Stacie's isolated experience has proved Dr. Laura's point about how evil feminists are forcing women to hate men, feminity, masculinity, heterosexuality, maternity, sweet little babies, and apple pie. We hope the NOW-types rot in hell for what they've done to men. And to Stacie.
Oh, and Stacie's letter also proves that Dr. Laura was right about how women are evil and stuff, and men are simple, misunderstood souls who need a woman to feel superior to, not one who thinks she should make the same salary as a male. So, in conclusion, buy her book.
Yes, as Thlayli and Laura have reminded me, it's Friday (hey, I swear I didn't get the memo), the day when we as a nation gather in our homes or offices to read the heartwarming yet sordid tales of America's Worst Mom© (copyright leased from the Tboggnamics Corp.)
TBOGG has already recounted the most shocking details: how the family couldn't cut it in the hood and had to abandon the gangsta life style; the plan to run a preschool Hooters; the fact that Daddy hasn't been seen ever since that surreal incident (which may or may not have been a drug-induced hallucination) where the children took bites out of him. But now you'll hear the REST of the story.
Page one: as our story begins, Meghan has abandoned the decrepit, filthy house and has set up housekeeping on the terrace (as Meghan refers to the driveway), dragging outside the furniture, the laundry, and the children (Macedonia, Rapture, Spud, and Prince Mel Gibson II). She puts up some junked cars on cinder blocks, deputizes Twitchy the Rabid Rabbit to serve as honorary coon dog, and having found a working electrical plug, is set for some high class living.
The neighboring Honduran Embassy is appalled at what Meghan and her brood are doing to property values, and they file a protest with the city about this violation of the housing code, but when a young inspector comes by to check on the situation, Meghan drives him off with a shotgun.
The two younger girls have a food fight, and somehow this results in them recreating the infamous Superbowl Half-time show. The people in the passing cars are shocked and horrified, and hurry home to right hundreds of angry letters and columns denouncing this assault on decency and good taste.
Yes, it IS an imminent terrorist attack. The Islamfacists have made their way to D.C., and started the invasion at Meghan's house.
No, wait, it's just the old biddies from the Margaret Dumont Private School for Pretentious Young Ladies and Gentlemen PTA. See, a long time ago, when she was blotto, Meghan volunteered to help with "worthy school causes," figuring that meant no projects more arduous than lobbying for school vouchers for the rich, and heaping scorn on competent mothers. But it seems that the PTA shrews actually expect Meghan to perform menial clerical work! As if she used her kids as an excuse to drop out of the work force to do stuff like that! And the Nazis expect her to perform slave labor for them "24/7"! It's a bug hunt, man, a bug hunt! Game over, man!
The unsmiling gorgons don't buy her insanity act, so Meghan lets loose a few "fruity expletives" (like "oh, I say, this is all a heap of kerfuffle!" and "bugger off, cow!"} under her breath. She is forced to let the competent women, with their "sensible shoes" and their haughty "we make our children wear clothes" attitudes into the now furnitureless dining room. Poor Twitchy is locked up in the basement again, his thirst for blood unsated.
The Germanic PTA bitches are full of outrageous demands, requesting such exotic items as scissors and electric lighting. Although one mother apologizes, Meghan is still offended and tells the Fraus to lump it or leave it; and so the harridans make do with what they brought themselves. They are a humorless, leaden-spirited herd of harpies who have never known the joy of living on one's driveway. Meghan pities them, because for all of their "scissors" and "electricity," they will never experience the simple bliss that comes from being stinkin' drunk at three in the afternoon.
Today the PTA work collective is assigned to make place cards for the school's annual George W. Will Gala Dinner 'n Demolition Derby. But these aren't just ANY place cards: no, they must list not only the diner's name, but also account for his menu selections, to include osso bucco, free-range chicken, beignets, and mousse. Meghan, in her lighthearted, free-spirited way, screws up, resulting a few days later in Mrs. Anderson being served the Peanut Buster Parfait instead of the pot au chocolot, and quickly dying of anaphylactic shock. But she was a liberal, so it was all for the best.
Anyway, Meghan calls for an end to PTA Überbitch tyranny:
You know, if Meghan sent her kids to Roosevelt Elementary, the public school a mile or so to the south, I can guarantee that she wouldn't have to worry about Gala Dinners serving osso bucco and beignets. And if she joined their PTA, she could actually do meaningful tasks, like taping up cracked windowns and removing asbestos.
Anyway, Rapture and Spud get caught rifling through the PTA bitches purses (the girls have to give back the cellphone, but nobody can find what the crafty youngsters did with the cash). Meghan throws out the women for objecting to her little darlings habit of unpacking purses for guests, and she is free at last, free at last from the shackles of PTA slavery!
Page three: Macedonia and Prince Mel Gibson II arrive home from school. Macedonia now has freckles -- or maybe this isn't actually Macedonia, but some other kid whom Meghan snatched from the grocery store so that she'd have the right number of kids when the social worker came for her monthly visit. Whatever.
Prince Mel Gibson's face is streaked with dirt and his shirt is torn. It seems he's been playing crucifixion with his little friends again. Whatever.
Macedonia complains to Mummy about the demands of the Public Library story-writing competition; she's worried about staying within the contest's officially mandated word count. Meghan tells her that she talked to the librarian that morning, who said that there is no word count anymore, and so Macedonia can write and then submit that novel she's been talking about since she was five. Of course, Meghan never talked to the librarian: she made up the whole thing in order to sabotage Macedonia's budding literary career -- there can be only one!
Page four: Prince Mel Gibson II makes a Moby Dick out of CD boxes. The whale has flukes. Ha ha, what an adorably witty child he is. No wonder Meghan loves him more than all her other children put together. The End.
"A Gentleman Is One Who Never Hurts Anyone's Feelings ... Unintentionally"
Andrew Sullivan learns from the College Republicans that if you hurt or offend somebody, they're the jerk for expecting you to be all p.c. and stuff (and it's just another example of how conservatives are crushed on campuses, this time through Catholic guilt for non-intentional sins).
You know, like if you said that gays and lesbians were sinners, and Andrew got all huffy, that would be a "micro-aggression" -- and Andrew would be the one in the wrong, for getting offended for a stupid reason. And besides, you're the President, so who is he to imply that you've said something HURTFUL, for gosh sakes?
And if he was a decent person, he'd use a different term, since he now had evidence that at least one person found it hurtful (and because nobody but morons considers it a valid descriptor). But no, since Andrew didn't mean to make her cry (and may even have been trying to flatter her, by pointing out that she seems much less smelly than the other Muslims), then she's the jerk for being hurt.
No, what you have there is an attempt by college boors and twits to avoid all responsibility for offending others.
One recalls Emily Post's 1922 classic, Etiquette in Society, in Business, in Politics, and at Home which teaches:
So, consider your "micro-aggressions" to be unvenial sins against political correctness if you want to, Andrew: traditionalists will consider them to simply be examples of bad manners.
A few other things I found amusing from the MemoGate stories.
From the Washington Post:
"Acted improperly towards me"? Doesn't THAT sound sinister (and vaguely sexual)!
I guess Miranda probably means that Pickle didn't buy it when Miranda said he hadn't done anything wrong -- and Miranda doesn't think that's fair! Hey, if the Wall Street Journal believed him, why can't everybody else?
What do you think they were looking for? Performance evaluations? Incriminating love letters? The lyrics to Orrin's latest song? And if the story is that Mirand and Lundell were just looking for instances of Democratic ethical violations when they downloaded and printed memos, why did they have to read Orrin's mail?
And from the NY Times:
Hey, live by the sloppy security procedures, die by the sloppy security procedures.
Translation: "Since you have no proof of any White House involvement in this matter, nobody here at the White House has investigated whether the White House was involved in this matter. There are some things that are better left unknown."
And it would be fundamentally wrong to consider Mr. Miranda's credit card number as confidential, if you were his waiter and he handed you the card to pay for dinner. Then you could use it for what ever purpose you wanted, because the number was easily accessible. See, unless something is really hard to access, it's not stealing if you take it. And that's what the law says, which Miranda would know, since he's a lawyer.
Good, and Other, Stuff
Dave Pollard has written a very interesting and well-reasoned piece about blogging and other forms of communication (complete with a flow chart). Here's a bit from it:
So, why are you here? I would imagine most of you read World O'Crap to get answers to deep, personal questions. I hope you are finding the answers you seek. Or if not, at least some help for your low self-esteem.
Hey, just kidding! And Dave's piece really is interesting and thought-provoking.
Mark over at Fried Green al-Qaedas has a very good entry about our 9/11 President, and a reminder about just what he did after hearing about the first tower being hit. (Hey, 9/11 belongs solely to Bush now, so let's make him own all of it.)
And check out Mark's funny/disturbing All New Leave it to Beaver episode entitled The Passion of the Beaver. You'll never think of Ward or Sean Hannity the same way.
And speaking of popular TV personalities, sadly Seb, the proprieter of Sadly, No! is being hospitalized for a month or so. I know we all wish him a quick recovery and attractive nurses, and will miss him while he's gone. To make you miss him even more, he has asked me (and the whip-smart and wicked funny Peanut, whom you might recall from her comments to blogs such as this one; and his friend Blair, who sounds like an informative and interesting guy) to guest blog. So, in honor of Mr. No!, go to his site and enter the "Ten Reasons to Hate Sean Hannity" contest. Let's win one for the SadlyGipper!
The MemoGate Kugelmuffin
Let us look at some portions of a Wall Street Journal piece by Melanie Kirkpatrick, the WSJ's asociate editorial page editor. She will explain why God says theft is morally justified if you do it to help the Republican Party (and the WSJ).
In case you are a regular WSJ reader, perhaps I should explain that a "kerfuffle" is a fuss about something trivial and unimportant; a minor matter blown out of proportion by the liberals. Examples: the Valerie Plame Kerfuffle, the Watergate Kerfuffle, and the Slavery Kerfuffle (i.e., the Civil War).
Yes, thousands of files were downloaded, and security on the computers was lax -- but the lax security is NOT what made the files get downloaded or leaked. Here's what the report said, per The Washington Post:
Back to Melanie:
Mr. Dillinger's attorney said that there were bank security flaws which point to the existance of an environment in which routine economic advantage could be pursued by anyone with an ounce of moxy -- but you wouldn't know that from the FBI, who cry, "bank robber," "public enemy number one," and even "murderer."
The Republicans want to forget about this perpiffle and get on with the important job of packing the courts with extremely conservative judges, but Orrin keeps embarassing them with his claims that stealing is wrong. Oh, who will rid the Republican Party of this meddlesome Mormon?
And, under a new concept of jurisprudence, we just take the accused's word for everything. It saves a lot of time, and helps ease the strain on our back-logged courts and over-crowded prisons.
Well, it's a good analogy, but only if you change "the table" to "a safe," and "fell into his hands" to "had a confederate who spied on somebody using the combination, used that combo to open the safe, took out the memos Miranda wanted, and handed them to him."
From the NY Times:
Okay, and even if the documents really weren't just sitting on the lunchroom table, other kids stole them too! What about Mr. Lundell!
And the key point here is that the co-worker, Jason Lundell, is also guilty of breachs of ethics, and probably criminal statutes. But the keyer point is that, per the Post, "Miranda guided Lundell in his accessing endeavors," and per the NYT, Lundell was described as "a young and curious clerk who was eager to impress his superiors." So, Miranda used the kid, and now is saying that this proves that he, Miranda, couldn't have done anything wrong.
At some point, the victim's gardener reportedly learned that walking alone at night in Central Park was dangerous, but he didn't bother to warn the victim or give him a gun. Therefore, my client is not guilty of any crime, least of all mugging the victim.
And if there was nothing wrong with his reading them, then there was nothing wrong in everybody else's reading them -- so he leaked them to the WSJ. Odd that he doesn't mention that in this piece. So, let's go to the previously cited Wash Post story:
You know, I think the WSJ has been getting moral guidance from Fat Tony, who here uses the Socratic method to teach Bart (and us) why hijacking cigarette trucks is perfectly okay:
Melanie then informs us that the REAL crime (to quote a Sadly, No! contest from a few weeks back) is that the Republicans might have committed ethical violatons (and that clearly justifies accessing their computer server and stealing their memos).
And if he thought that, then he had a right, nay, an obligation to leak their memos to the WSJ, even if the memos don't say that the Dems withheld confirmation in exchange for funding.
Us: Hell, yes!
Fat Ed Gillespie: Enjoy your gift.
The Following Item Has Been Rated "R" Due To Violent and Explicit Metaphors
From the latest column by Jen "Pinky" Shroder:
Hey, if Lady Justice has been raped, then the bitch was asking for it by dressing like a slut and hanging out with men of ill-repute.
Lady Justice and "Friend"
But for the Californians who just want to be "free to live and breathe without pervasive perversion at every turn," I guess they'll have to move to Iran or some other theocracy, poor dears. The ones who are "weeping" probably always cry at weddings.