Coffee: check
Baby delightfully taken by his Daddy’s unaccustomed presence during the morning hours: check
Uninterrupted time to sip coffee and peruse the news: check
Life is good. Hope your weekend treats you accordingly.
Food for thought:
To enrage: just say ‘no’ to spray tanning. Especially if you can’t spell the word ‘no’ yet…
To illuminate: the reality of an ‘open‘ liberal mind
To encourage: because we can all use a little good news now and then
Protesting at the state capitol last weekend in celebration of Planned Parenthood’s nationwide “Voices for Choice” rally, which basically involved about 150 very, very angry women marching with dogs and timid husbands/boyfriends in tow, decked out all in orange and shouting things about their vaginas to bemused, mounted police officers lining their protest route. Oh, and of course, screaming at us as they walked by about how we were clearly retarded. Which, I believe, really jives with their stellar record for political correctness.
See those cute little girls standing in front? Don’t they look totally retarded? One kindly old man even knelt down to child’s eye level and screamed at Sophie, the one holding the baby doll, “GOD ISN’T REAL!”, spraying her with spittle. After which point she blinked up at her mom in confusion, who helpfully clarified for her that “that man is just like the mean kangaroo in Horton Hears a Who, remember honey?” ( I might add as a disclaimer, no mention of God was made, either on signs or vocally, but the Dr. Suess quote Sophie was proudly displaying must have set off his satanic rage-o-meter. Note to exorcists.)
Also, the men who accompanied us, (the very handsome and talented men, I might add) they were also “retarded” and “oppressive of women.” Even the hot firefighter who was wearing his baby. He was totally oppressing that poor woman by sharing equitably in the childcare responsibilities…
But my favorite part of the day? The absolute radiant JOY which our motley crew displayed, even in the face of unbelievable vitriol and hatred being thrown our way. We were each of us peaceful, smiling, and, for the most part, silent. Standing witness for those whose voices have been silenced most unjustly. And for any who observed the interactions between our two sides, I think the distinction couldn’t have been more clear. Evil is ugly, plain and simple. Dress it up and call it what you like, but you can’t make it beautiful. Similarly, you can’t hide the beauty of the truth. It shines through, casting light into dark corners.
Even dark orange corners.
I have a confession: I used to read Cosmopolitan magazine. Really, I did. And while it made me feel kind of dirty and offended my sensibilities as a woman, a Christian, and a human being… there was something, I don’t know, almost addictive about reading all about the lifestyle contained within its tawdry pages. It was, for me at least, a precursor to reality television; something you know in your gut is just terrible for you, but something so fascinatingly awful you can’t look away. Kind of like “The Hills.” But I digress…
The thing is, when I look back on that dark time in my life – the college years – and I remember the girl who used to eagerly devour her roommate’s monthly subscription, there’s a stark, obvious juxtaposition of my own personal misery to the gospel of liberation Cosmo preached. As I look back over my life, it was during the lowest times that I saw only one set of footprints... okay, kidding. But seriously, during what were for me the least satisfying times of my life, the times where I was living exactly as I pleased, answerable to me, myself and I alone…and hating every minute of it, these were the times during which I found Cosmo relevant.
These were the times, quite honestly, when I found Cosmo palatable at all. They say misery loves company, and with 13 million copies of “the bible” ala Sex in the City being cranked out each month… it would seem to be true. But do I go too far by imposing my own subjective experience onto other women who may legitimately enjoy the read?
Well, have you read Cosmo lately? Even glanced at a cover? I would venture to say that no healthy, self-respecting woman in her right mind, no feminist for that matter (in the best use of the term) would be caught dead with a copy of Cosmo on the reading stand of her StairMaster. Period.
In a recent column for First Things entitled “The Cosmopolitan Life,” David Mills pithily dissects the strange need for “liberated” women to subject themselves to the peculiar rhetoric of slavery to male approval which is familiar to each issue of Cosmo and every other magazine of it’s ilk. Glamour. Marie Claire. Redbook. They’re all preaching the same, tired lines promising mind blowing sex, steamy workplace hookup hints and beauty tips for shrinking one’s backside in order to better attract a man whose head is stuck up his. Or so it would seem.
For all its big, blustery talk about being the guidebook of the modern, sexually-liberated woman of the 21st century, it would seem that Cosmo is, in reality, little more than a bit of poorly-crafted propaganda, a misogynistic rag intended for instructing women on the niceties of pleasing and keeping a man.
“But, but…” the editorial staff might sputter, “these women are freely choosing to engage in wild, spontaneous and uncommitted sex. That’s progress.”
Is it really?
It seems awfully backwards to me to have to fill each monthly issue with remedial instruction on the carefully-crafted art of emotional detachment and hookups. For above all else, Cosmo preaches relations without relationship. Sex without security. Booty calls without boundaries. In other words, unpaid prostitution.
Think about it…at least a hundred years ago or so, women who engaged in casual, meaningless recreational sex were reimbursed for their troubles. And actually in the state of Nevada, I believe some still are… But the point is this; if this is freedom, then perhaps we should ask to be put back in chains, because I’ve yet to see a truly liberated woman gazing back at me from the cover of Cosmo… or from behind its pages.
Call it freedom, call it progress, call it feminism if you will… but kindly do so with your tongue placed firmly in your cheek.
I’ve included some links for further research on the bc/Pill connection. Ladies: read these studies and share their results with women whom you love. Refuse to be complicit in the destruction of a generation, and for God’s sake ask QUESTIONS in your doctor’s office.
http://www.preventcancer.com/patients/med_avoid/pill.htm
http://www.fhcrc.org/about/pubs/center_news/online/2009/05/Oral_contraceptives_and_breast_cancer.html
http://www.pregnantpause.org/safe/pillcanc.htm
http://www.newsweekly.com.au/articles/2007may12_m275512.html
http://content.nejm.org/cgi/content/extract/354/3/270?ck=nck
http://www.nci.nih.gov/cancertopics/factsheet/Risk/oral-contraceptives
http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/8656904?dopt=Abstract
http://cebp.aacrjournals.org/search?author1=Lesley+Andrews&sortspec=date&submit=Submit
I’ve been visually assaulted this month by proliferation of pink popping up… everywhere. The grocery store, the gym, my favorite coffee shop… I swear, if I get a pink-foil wrapped burrito at Chipotle, my head is going to explode.
Now pink is my very favorite color, it’s true. So why the rage? Why did the mere sight of that blushing, bubbly white-zinfandel colored wrist band on the NFL ref during last week’s Broncos game cause my blood pressure to spike?
Well, for the same reason that other women are experiencing elevated levels of blood pressure. And increased risk of strokes and heart disease. And skyrocketing risk rates for breast cancer:
The Pill.
The very same Pill that so many of these merchants tout as the panacea to the problems of the modern world, particularly to those faced by members of the fairer sex. The Pill, our culture proclaims from every magazine spread, television broadcast and billboard, is the answer to our over-populated, under-sexed and insufficiently satiated appetite for more.
But it’s delivered a whole lot more than we could have expected. Which brings me back to the infuriating “think pink” campaign which has somehow replaced our collective conscience for the time being, (giving the tiresome ‘go green’ mantra a break) and opened up a marketing opportunity for everyone from Safeway to Starbucks to the National Football League to show how much they care.
Except, they don’t.
At least, not enough to stop marketing or manufacturing that very same substance which is largely to blame for the skyrocketing increase in breast cancer rates over the past several decades.
Breast cancer is a terrible scourge, a vicious disease. It is heartless in its selection of victims, aggressive in its course, and cruelly demanding of its victims.
But what is far more terrible and in fact much more insidious is the idea of a collaboration of industries whose monetary interests far outweigh their humanitarian concerns.
But when you’ve got companies like Subaru and Wells Fargo funding Planned Parenthood, when you’ve got Ortho and Depo and Yaz and the like being pushed over the counter at Kroger’s to teens and middle aged mommies alike… you start to wonder. How much do these companies actually care about those customers of theirs – girls and women like you and me?
Sure, there are races for the cure, posters saluting fallen heroines who lost their battles, pink sleeves for coffee cups to show that one stands “against” breast cancer.
Because doing something, anything, in the face of overwhelming evil feels better than doing nothing at all. But the funny thing is, after all those dollars are collected at the checkout counter, after all the fundraisers and campaigns for a cure are safely in November’s rearview mirror… will those same companies and indiviudals who proclaim their concern so conspicuously still be speaking out? Will they continue to let their wallets talk for them, reconsidering purchases which might benefit the manufacturers of the Pill in an effort to “fight the good fight?”
Or will this be sufficient? Is it enough to wear a little pink for 30 days? Is no further action required to curtail the epidemic that is stalking our generation? Are we not, in fact, compelled by justice to inform women honestly about the risks associated with consumable, injectible and insertable hormonal contraceptives?
Such an inconvenient truth, this link between cancer and the Pill. It couldn’t possibly be true, could it? No, no… it’s little more than a “right wing scare tactic” or a “dogmatic religious falsehood,” a pro-life “myth”… that’s what the media continually reassures us in soothing tones.
“Don’t worry, nobody’s going to take your contraception away. You don’t have to fret; there are no consequences, and nobody is going to get hurt. Here, put on this pink hat. Affix this bumper sticker to your vehicle. Shhhh, now, doesn’t that feel better?”
I’d argue, no.
So rethink pink, my friends. And ask yourselves who the real losers are when lies become so oft- repeated they become the truth.
Breaking news: people are – themselves – pollutants. In a shoddy little piece of propaganda issued earlier today, Britain’s Daily Telegraph quotes a recent study by the London School of Economics (LSE) titled: Fewer Emitter, Lower Emissions, Less Cost. The bottom line? Babies are burdensome… not only to their parents, but to society at large and, indeed, to the entire human race:
“The UN estimates that 40 per cent of all pregnancies worldwide are unintended.” The Daily Telegraph, 09/09/09
The spin continues, “If these basic family planning needs were met, 34 gigatons (billion tonnes) of CO2 would be saved – equivalent to nearly 6 times the annual emissions of the US and almost 60 times the UK’s annual total.”
Roger Martin, chairman of the Optimum Population Trust at the LSE, (yes folks, that actually exists) said: “It’s always been [obvious] that total emissions depend on the number of emitters as well as their individual emissions – the carbon tonnage can’t shoot down as we want, while the population keeps shooting up.”
In sum, human beings – themselves the supposed authors of climate change – are becoming a bona fide hazard to global health, and if we could only provide adequate family planning resources (read: harmful, cancer-causing contraceptives, condoms which increase risky sexual behaviors, and abortion on demand), maybe… just maybe we can save this planet from ourselves.
What is actually inherent in the equation “More Humans = More Pollution” is the obvious converse: “Fewer Humans = Healthier Planet.”
And isn’t that what the climate control junkies have been harping after for decades? They don’t want to save the world “for the sake of the children” … They don’t want there to be any children. Period. Except for those whom they selectively deign worthy of existence. Healthy ones. Fit ones. Those who fit the socioeconomic designs of their mercenary mothers and fathers.
Perhaps my acerbity is unnecessary, but then, how does one respond to the charge that human beings are trash? That the human person is intrinsically parasitic? Can one be too politically insensitive when answering such a charge? I think not. Maybe it’s the mother bear in me, but anyone who purports that curtailing “40% of the world’s pregnancies” would solve some pressing issues relating to the utterly unsubstantiated and unproven “epidemic” of global warming has some ‘splaining to do. Particularly in light of all the “chatter” surrounding the great health care debate over here in the States.
Yes, by all means, let’s make the Pill more readily available for human consumption. That will surely stop the crushing wheels of progress from lurching forward over unsuspecting subspecies and biomes. But then, there’s the mounting evidence (as mentioned here and here) that contraceptive sex ain’t the panacea it’s cracked up to be, particularly from the perspective of environmental impact.
So maybe the Pill’s not the ideal solution to curb that nasty, child-producing epidemic know colloquially as “sexual intercourse.” Maybe there’s an easier way… a “greener” way. Maybe we ought to be looking down the pike for the eventuality of the ultimate rationalization: forced sterilization.
We have licenses to drive. Licenses to wed. Licenses to install plumbing on build sites… shouldn’t we, you know, set up some kind of government authorization process whereby individuals can be screened, processed and labelled “fit to breed?”
Don’t think it’s not coming just because it’s terrifying. Twenty years ago, the notion of starving a disabled person to death was terrifying. Forty years ago, there existed no such notion as “consensual sex” between a sixteen-year old boy and a 22-year old college man. Seventy years ago, the specter of gender-selective abortion was terrifying (well, everywhere but in Nazi Germany).
Which brings us to today. And which brings me to the close of my rant. And the following article, which I’d suggest you share with as many people as possible, with the caveat that you prepare in advance to offer a solid rebuttal to the fallacies contained within.