Summer Sex Wars (or why gender matters)

I hate this topic. De-test it.


Ain't shure why I'se gonna post on it, but tangential to assignments, I'se havin' to revisit the obvious that has eluded most of the modern public. By which I mean the educational establishment and pollyticks. Since I'se stuck wif' it, so's the Back Porch.

Sex is so natural ya'd think folks wouldn't have to think too long on the whys and wherefores--but modern life and false assumptions has ruined it such that today very few folks is reporting "happy" love life.

Take the summer sex wars as jes' one example.



TIME and NEWSWEEK battled it out, the former wif' a piece, "Is there hope for the American marriage?" by Caitlan Flanagan-- the NEWSWEEK piece is a silly flip page on polyamory. The venerable Atlantic featured a post-feminst whine, "Let's Call the Whole Thing Off," a marriage therapy diary by tongue an' tell journalist Sandra Tsing Loh, whose personal journey mimics the dull misery of most liberal metrosexuals.

Mebbe ya heard how arch-feminist Naomi Wolf an' nemesis Phyllis Chesler sparred over when/ why women should or should not wear the Chador.

I tell ya' it is a tempest jes' barely less than health care reform--an in the long run, may be more important.

Ain't no wonder I has a three week headache.

First, folks, the research is long, voluminous, an' jives wif' known human experience fer 10,000 years: people are happiest when they grow up bein' a natural male or natural female, git hitched, have babies who grow up male or female an' git hitched an' has babies who grow up....

But post moderns in luhve wif' trendy genderologies have railed now fer over a decade; they ain't happy now that they got it all: the career, liberated morals, the *domesticated house-husband*, the designer baby, and the house at the Hamptons. Somebody had better pay. The post-feminist acid ire is corrodin' the inner sanctums of the girlz -in-the-know.

The historical purpose fer feminism was to git the vote for other half of humanity (though they ain't done so good wif' it), insure that women-folks git edoocated as they wanted, would be paid fairly fer similar work when said work was done by menfolks ( a bookkeeper is a bookkeeper, not more accurate accordin' to their genetic plumbing).

The purpose fer feminism as ideology ain't to pretend that gender doan matter. Oh it matters, all right.


Why would anyone think the moon and the sun was interchangeable?

The attempt to domesticate the boy/ man has made life a livin' hell for many of its victims, male or female. Genders ain't interchangeable. It doan matter how ya try to spin it, socialize it, twist, push or pull it, it still matters. Nature made men and women fer sex, an' messin' up the men wif' femininizin' agendas ain't wrought nuthin' but angst at best, monsters at worst.

Men should be men, not "male kitchen bitches" as one disgruntled "power-sharing" modern metrosexual wifey wrote. De-sexed roles negate actual gender differences an' then we's surprised when team members is injured in that very significant way?

The menfolks is watchin' the Wrathful Wimmen Show.

James Rainey in the L.A. Times criticized Loh fer her view of married men as "domesticated sexless drones." Over at MensNewsDaily.com the froth was dismissed as Loh's "mewling" about modern married men as sexless competitor wives--a problem unique to the liberal rich. Not a few have noted the rise ( heh) of male enhancement ads at the very time that women, even women as old as 60, act like teen teases, an' digital footsie is universally available. Clearly somethin' ain't workin' right. Easy virtue ain't an aphrodisiac after all? Who knew?


The ole folks knew.


Enter Ms. Wolf in her newly found Chador. It's liberatin,' says the curvy iconic feminist--why, daon ya know it shields her "mystery." Ah.

We used to call it modest suggestiveness. Ya know, soft dress that clung whar' it oughta, but covered enough fer the poor fella to desire to uncover. I'se wif' those who say Wolf has lost it on this point--to a degree-what she is discoverin' is that some modesty ENHANCEs the mystery between men and wimenfolks. (But ain't no need to abuse wimmen by lockin' 'em up in 16 yards of shroud.)

In short, marriage as lived in the post-feminist model is makin' men an' women jes' plain miserable. The menfolks flee to the cyber siren, the liberated an' the desperate housewives "calls the whole thing off" as Loh did. But on her way out Loh threw a "retrograde!" jab at Flanagan who simply (despite bein' a liberal) said the obvious: traditional marriage and traditional roles are the recipe fer marital satisfaction. This is not to preclude a woman having a career, or Dad changin' junior onc't in awhile-- but it does mean that said wife's career necessarily steals time and energy from legitimate wifely roles--an the attempt to shift those roles permanently onto men eventually backfires-he woan do it the way a woman would, then the woman gits aggravated, an' the unravelin' begins between the "competitor wives."

A pop novel tells it all: I'd rather Eat Chocolate reviewed in The Atlantic recounts some of the raw pain of modern couples whar' the husband prefers porn an' the wife prefers chocolate. This is what feminist ideology has done fer us?

Which brings me to our fellow (ahem! She's a her) blogger, Foamy. She has one (Sept. 8 ) hilarious post up on some freak idea of threadin' a wire up yore spine, it's attached to a remote control--jes give yore ownself a jolt of libidinous excitement whenever ya please. Well well...narcissism reaches new heights. The Tomorrow File arrives.

Feminism has indeed given us Women and the Rise of Raunch Culture. Which takes us back to Ms. Wolf who at least got one thang right when she wrote about Feminism and the Male Brain

What the world now is women, not feminists.
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