Of Grenades and Cotton Ballz

Aware of women’s issues, I still hesitate before speaking for any sex in general and decline to consider myself a feminist. There are too many disappointments in women’s society for me to be convinced that the sorriest female is as great as the strongest. Certainly there are laws and politics that cannot pertain to me without including a category of ovary-carriers in general, and in important instances such as these I’m willing to be generalized. For my own individuality, I’m not. The world has me mentally herded in with all other estrogen and that is why I see the need to make a few things clear regarding what I believe when it comes to most other vaginas.

Granted, anyone could look me over and be disgusted, convinced that I’m the only problem. But allow me to speak up against the first topic that really pisses me off: solely blaming men for women’s oppression. Because, if you ask me, some of this alleged “oppression” exercised by way of sarcasm, harassment, and media is a man’s natural and acceptable reaction to the stupid things that women do.

Consider the issue of dress. When you go strutting down Main Street in a baby doll tee shirt with the word “hooch” written across the chest (perhaps with matching daisy dukes bearing the same suggestive title across your ass) you might get treated like (gasp) a hooch. Try to understand that brains and beauty are getting increasingly harder to remember or recognize, let alone respect. You might want to try another way to empower and sexualize yourself besides constantly tugging your shorts down and holding the bra strap up. Don’t think for a moment I’m implying scantily-clad woman aren’t deserving of love or intelligence; I’m suggesting you don’t get bent out of shape if some guy driving by holds a few bucks out the window and mistakes you for a hooker. Geeze.

If you can’t handle dressing to enjoy yourself and having an affect on someone else to want to enjoy you, too, then I guess it really isn’t very joyful after all, is it?

It has been a battle to have the female’s voice heard, to have her vote mean something, to own her land and keep this country’s laws off her body. Women are turning to men and pointing the finger because their little girls walk into toy stores and see things on the shelf like pink, plastic vacuum cleaners. But perhaps if Mommy wasn’t always vacuuming, then Suzie Q wouldn’t care to emulate it. When she wants a Night of the Living Dead action figure instead, Suzie will let you know. There are more reasons as to why stores are divided up other than random conspiracies for product placement. The miniscule issues that feminists piddle their energy away on fail to attack the bigger problem at large.

We aren’t equal, so get over it. Regardless of whether or not every woman has the choice to be just as powerful as the average man, they aren’t. I don’t need statistics to prove to you that more men physically defeat women than the other way around. This overpowering aspect has left many females beaten and will continue to do beating. No matter how clever or exceptional some women are or may become to help compensate for this unevenness of muscle power, I suspect that physical strength will remain essential to victory. This notion of inadequacy is easily hypothesized after observing masculinity being attributed to men and femininity (slightly less important in, say, a war) to women. A lot of something here and a lot of another there, does not equality make. So not only are women varied in degrees amongst each other, they are also (speaking in terms of physical strength) weaker than men on the whole. Blaming men for this is like blaming the top student for the cruel lack of give in a grading curve – tough shit.


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