This guy named Meredith Wilson wrote a musical called “The Music Man,” a show about a huckster who falls in love with a sensible woman, and she in love with him, in spite of his many faults. He eventually repents of his dishonesty, when love and volition are allowed to peacefully intercede. A man who doesn’t need to be browbeaten or shamed to change for the better. Amazing.
At one point in the theatrical proceedings, the town’s chattering class (all female) gossip around the conman. The gossip quickly turns into a song (This is a musical, after all.), as the ladies sing:
Pick a little, talk a little
Pick a little, talk a little
Cheep! Cheep! Cheep!
Talk a lot
Pick a little more
Pick a little, talk a little
Pick a little, talk a little
Cheep! Cheep! Cheep! Cheep! CHEEP! Cheep! Cheep! Cheep!…
This is Wilson’s clever way of setting the ladies’ gossip to music, by making a reference to hens, for some reason… It’ll come to me.
Anyway, the reason I bring up “The Music Man” is because it reminds me of something trivial I bothered to read at The Huffington Post. You’ve heard of the Huffington Post, haven’t you?
Huff a little, puff a little
Huff a little, puff a little
Bitch! Bitch! Bitch!
Puff a lot
Huff a little more
I’m sure you’ve also heard of Marlo Thomas, otherwise known as Mrs. Donahue. Thomas has something to pick at, due to a handful of politicians and alpha males who got caught, or merely accused, during this past month of various sexual, financial, and political shenanigans. You can be certain that Thomas is having a field day with it. She can afford to. In the long run, the culture upon which Thomas, you, and I have come to depend, cannot.
Thomas’s article was on a page with a link to the following: “Hot or Not? Why Women Shouldn’t Pick Attractive Husbands.” In this article, we learn that “[a]ttractive men don’t make the best husbands, according to researchers.” Of course, the author, one Vicki Larson (“Cheep! Cheep! Cheep!”), never bothers to define “attractive,” nor did the “researchers” ever prove objective attractiveness. I myself find regular guys quite attractive, much more than male models and the shaved Greek gods of mainstream porn. I’m not sure that I care to know what Ms. Larson or the researchers think is attractive. I have a sinking feeling it comes with a detachable penis.
The computers at which these two women pick and talk were designed, built, and shipped to their doors by men. Furthermore, those computers are connected to the Internet, a cybernetic phenomenon that comes as close as any material thing can come to existing in the abstract; and it was also designed by men. The materials used to make computers and the Internet come out of the earth, dug into by men. (Oddly, even though there are few impediments left, to this day the women still don’t feel like digging. “Cheep! Cheep! Cheep!”)
The good news is: I think I’ve stumbled upon a female Internet writer who understands a lot of what I see. I now visit Lenore Skenazy’s website, “Free Range Kids,” on a regular basis. (Not a single “Cheep!” from her.) I already got one article out of it, and it won’t be the last. Mrs. Skenazy, sadly, is a dying breed of woman. Like my own mother, she does not feel the need to know every second exactly where her boys are. She caused an uproar for letting one of her sons take the New York subway by himself. Strangely, no men molested him during the ordeal. Mrs. Skenazy caught flak anyway. Stranger still, she stood up for herself, and gave the world a cornucopia of statist insanity with her wonderful website. Stay tuned for more profanity-laden diatribes written by yours truly, based on this woman’s work. (Love the glasses!)
Here’s a recent post about one mother’s legal struggle to help her son Ricky. (Thus, Skenazy is on the exact same page as Mr. Elam.) As a recap, this young man followed his bodily instincts and had sex with a young woman he thought was only one year younger than he. Unfortunately, like arbitrary speed limits, her age did not equal the arbitrary number the sclerotic, puritanical, feminized state came up with for “consensual sex,” and Ricky’s family was sent on a four-year spiral, including his tenacious mother’s sudden blindness, before a teenaged male could be considered innocent (sort of) by the state that ostensibly exists to protect him. From terrorists! The mother’s fight paid off for Ricky at least partially, and I’m sure he will never forget it. Now her fight goes on for other innocent young men and their mothers:
“The moms called Mary [Ricky’s mom] for strength. She listened, offered some bracing words, maybe snorted with gallows humor and told them to call her again anytime. ‘That mom who was suicidal? She’s finally coming out of it,’ said Mary, sounding damn pleased. ‘She’s getting ready to fight.’”
Sadly, Mary is now in a coma. That’s one less fighting mom in a culture run by horrid women like Marlo Thomas, whose snotty sermon barely contains her glee over a month of “salacious spring scandals,” including the foregone conclusion that the head of the IMF is already guilty of attempted rape, even though he has not been convicted in a court of law, and even though both Thomas and her husband, Mr. Thomas, allegedly believe that we are all innocent until proven guilty. (Of course, that point will be moot with the Thomases if Mr. IMF is “proven” guilty.)
The Internet is a marvel of a communication tool, one that wouldn’t have happened without the rapid advancement of technology in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, all on the backs of men. This permanent transformation of our planetary existence would most likely never have occurred if it hadn’t been for Enlightenment principles, trumpeted to the world by male philosophers, including one who was almost executed for speaking his mind. After all this effort — groaning, sporadic, unpredictable, astounding — all that women supposedly have to offer, according to the writings of prominent feminists like Thomas, is “Cheep! Cheep! Cheep!”
Why not pick at this? (My thanks to Chris Floyd for that link, a man rightly concerned with empire and war, and the far more legitimate concerns of suffering women whom Thomas hasn’t mentioned yet):
“As you may know the oppressors in Bahrain are targeting professional women arresting [sic] from their places of work or study. Many have disappeared into military style prisons and have not had access to lawyers or their families. The few who have been released report sexual attacks, verbal and physical insults and threats and other forms of torture… You will note that one of those arrested is a pregnant woman who happens to be the wife of an activist. Many others are young women in their early 20s. One of these young ladies is a poet and a student teacher who was arrested after four of her brothers were threatened at gunpoint to turn their sister in. No other Arabic regime has used torture and arrest against women to crush protests in this systematic and brutal manner. Yet media outlets in the west and Al Jazeera Arabic are largely silent on these abuses in stark and shameful contrast to the coverage given to other protests [emphasis mine, since Thomas didn’t even bother].”
Too hellish? Well, then, perhaps Thomas can rally her feminist friends in the aid of a truly inspiring woman like Sharon Secor, who is in a slightly less nightmarish position. Ms. Secor is one of the assistant editors at Strike The Root (for which I also write), a homeschooling mom, and a one-of-a-kind, formerly single mother by choice. That’s right. She didn’t stick any man that impregnated her with any baggage, though. She understands freedom and consequences. You can chide her all you like for consciously choosing to raise children without a father (although she is married now), but she simply wants to be left alone with her little family.
Unfortunately, the Free-and-Nanny State of Texas, perched on top of abysmal schools where mostly women teach, can’t bear the idea of women (the kind that don’t suffer from The Patriarchy) raising kids who think for themselves. They keep reminding us it’s the National Organization for Women, not of Women; therefore, since Secor is a woman, go for it.
…We’re waiting. When will you be finished with the picking and the talking?
If women who suffer at the hands of the state aren’t to your taste, what about acknowledging that the “bad behavior” of men is not that much different from women? Here’s a woman allegedly doing something similar to the IMF dude, to a 10-year-old girl and 18-year-old woman:
“When interviewed by investigators, reports state that Pagoria [the alleged dominatrix] explained that she used to spank the girls, but ‘the spankings had not improved their behavior.’
“She switched to the table and handcuffs after ‘she decided she needed to do something that would embarrass them so they would learn not to break the rules again,’ the report states.” Yes, spanking is a wonderful idea.
Will Thomas be speaking out about this? Will she post pictures of girls and young women between the ages of 10 and 18 angrily protesting outside the courthouse before this woman has her day in court? Can I use this in a rant against our misandric culture, or is it all the boyfriend’s fault?
“After the whippings, Pagoria explained that the girls were forced to stand naked in the corner ‘so that they could reflect on what they had done wrong,’ according to the report.” Bradley Manning, anyone?
Oops. That’s a guy. Sorry. How about this one, about a woman who refused to feed her teenaged son for 12 hours a day? Just a quickie, I promise: “Weed testified that Alfred believed her son to be possessed by Satan.” Well, then, allow me to supplicate our Lord on his behalf: Jesus H. Christ!
The reader should keep in mind that I remain, to this day, an unrepentant lazy-ass doofus who does very little research. Imagine what I could come up with if I actually made an effort. Will Mrs. Non-Donahue Thomas, a woman who apparently does even less research, concede on any one of these?
The cycle of abuse repeats and repeats and repeats, like a bad meal, because the culture vaunts silly-headed women who can “Cheep! Cheep! Cheep!” with the best of them, and ignores a truly intelligent woman like Alice Miller, who pointed all of this out time and time again, and was apparently ignored by the Thomases running the show.
If Marlo Donathomas truly cared about women who were raped; or “victims” of an online flashing; or “victims” of some rich-hunk-of-a-famous-dude writhing around on top of them, his perfect musculature moving in synchronicity as a reminder of The Patriarchy’s true power; she would spend roughly five minutes investigating root causes of why humans — not men — occasionally behave badly. She would also take careful note of the differences that are oftentimes expressed through masculine bad behavior vs. feminine bad behavior.
I’m supposed to be concerned about your “gorgeous” husband? Why? I’m supposed to be outraged over women “victimized” by horny politicians? How so? I’m supposed to condemn a man before attempted rape has been proven because Western culture, according to Thomas, has programmed women to be silent? Really?
Then please explain to me how E.M. Forster, a guy, was able to write “A Passage to India” in 1924. If you haven’t read the book or seen the brilliant film, an entire community of British settlers in India (a community run and maintained largely by men) rallies around a young woman who, due to some sort of heat sickness, mistakenly believes that her kindly Indian companion tried to rape her. Granted, this is fiction, but how was a writer like E.M. Forster able to conceive of a community’s extraordinarily charitable reaction to a young woman’s plight with such ease, and be understood by readers at that time? Yet Thomas asserts: “Historically, women who have been victimized by men — whether by a sexually harassing boss or a philandering husband — were trained to hit the mute button.” Perhaps that should read: “…were trained to hit the mute button, except in British India.”
You can thank this rhetoric — relentless, hyperbolic, shrill, and heavily televised — for teenaged young men being labeled for life. The more of them that feel sidelined, the more of them will be brought up without fathers. The more of them fatherless, the more the state will step in, especially when surrounding women start shrieking. Then we will see more posts from Mrs. Skenazy like the following, concerning kids who cannot play outside legally without the presence of at least one parent: “The officer said that kids under ten, by law, are not allowed outside, unsupervised except in their parents’ yard.” British India it ain’t. Somebody tell Marlo. She and Mr. Thomas-Donahue will get right on it.
It used to be that Dad made the rules, and if he said you couldn’t be outside unsupervised, chances are you lived in a really lousy neighborhood. Everything the state does is a bastardization at best of normal human relationships. This is why it’s a mistake to involve the state’s particularly pernicious form of coercion into any aspect of existence: marriage, divorce, custody, sex, rape, molestation, pornography, prostitution, drugs, finances, the workplace, education, justice, restitution, and everything else. These are matters to be taken care of in private. The state never really knew what privacy was, and now that the culture no longer seems to care, the state cares even less.
If “the personal” becomes “the political,” there is no end to the pointing of guns, and it’s only a matter of time before aggrieved individuals who are victimized by feminist/statist influence grab the same governmental guns and point them somewhere else. Feminists that don’t need men will need the state, which is run by the worst sorts of men and women imaginable. Now the state is our father, and what a rotten dad he is. You can thank idiotic women like Thomas, and the alpha males who see the prize to be won inside the body of humanity. The natural power that men had within their own homes is gone, replaced by mindless pop culture, female hysteria unchecked, and a state that has a harder time convincing any thinking person of its actual necessity.
It’s long past time for men and women everywhere to tell the gossiping hens to shut the cluck up. Meredith Wilson, unfortunately, was spot-on. Thus, while the women go on with “Cheep! Cheep! Cheep!”, four men, forming a barbershop quartet, sing the following:
Good night, ladies.
Good night, ladies.
Good night, ladies.
We’re going to leave you now.
Good advice, from a man who knew a huckster when he saw one.
