The latest outrage of entitled feminist demands for more luxurious pampering comes from my honey pie cuddle monkey Amanda Marcotte, who, writing in Slate, decries the status quo that procuring an abortion might be an unpleasant experience for those feeble ladies with an inconvenient delicate condition:
Getting medical treatments in general is unpleasant. That’s exactly why health care providers should try to smooth the edges as much as possible with creature comforts. The same should go for abortion, a really common procedure that a woman runs a 1-in-3 chance of needing at some point in her life. Abortion is legal. If you want a little more misery and shame with your abortion experience, feel free to impose that on yourself, but for those who disagree, pass the fluffy robes and the herbal teas.
The for-I-am-a-Princess! gall of these feminist Antoinettes makes me consider efforts to calm myself that include bourbon and revenge porn. It is not enough that we grant them leave to kill their “fetuses”: they want their servants rubbing their feet while the chugging sounds of the vacuum aspiration machine are muffled by soft, fuzzy headphones playing the dulcet tones of lesbian icons like the Indigo Girls singing Closer to fine.
A much better choice of music guaranteed to piss off every feminist on the planet would be Raelynn’s God Made Girls.
Medical resources are limited and getting more dear and dire all the time. Our truly most deserving patients – wounded military veterans – face daunting treatment wait times so bad that the US Veteran’s Administration even had to delay the report on the delays:
Pending Appointments (As of 2/15/15) and Completed Appointments (As of 1/31/15) were previously scheduled for release on March 5, 2015. VA did not post patient access data on March 5, 2015 due to an incomplete transmission of January 2015 appointment data from two facilities. This incomplete transmission of data resulted in underreporting the number of Veterans’ appointments completed as well as associated wait times for those appointments.
Meanwhile, as wounded veterans go untreated and even audits of their plight go unreported, Marcotte wonders “why shouldn’t a health clinic aim for a more welcoming experience? I know I appreciate, for instance, having a DVD player on hand.” By all means, let’s put more doilies and teapots into abortion clinics before we add more doctors and nurses to treat national heroes.
Naked greed. Entitlement. Sexual incontinence. Callous disregard for nascent human life. Horrific rape hoaxes. Is it any wonder why more and more people are coming to a visceral rejection of feminists and their bloated bloviating? And that this hatred is largely divorced from the many logical, historical, and ethical failings of feminism?
The lifespans of men continue to fall 5 years shorter than women’s and all feminists want is a more opulent lounge for their fat asses while they wait to kill their kids? What the hell?
Believe it or not, when it comes to abortion, I am pro-choice. Reluctantly so, but I am. Back in the 1980’s I volunteered as an escort and human shield to ferry terrified and ashamed patients from the parking lot to the clinic doors – past the screaming, spitting mobs of fundamentalists that would gather like locusts every weekend outside the Routh Street Women’s Clinic in Dallas.
But now, in addition to a safe space, feminists want us to give them a spa? Where, exactly, is the dictionary “equality” of feminism in any of that?
Yes, I was an idiot white knight that cared about women’s rights and access to safe abortions. I was young and stupid and the ugly, evil truth of entitled princess feminism wouldn’t hit me for another 5 years.
Feminists have made me regret that I ever gave a damn about them.
