Archive for January, 2010

What Oprah Did For Pooping

January 26, 2010

Just stopping in to approve comments, surrounded though I am by cardboard boxes. I approved all of them, including the feminists who checked in to demonstrate that they still have no clue how to form an argument, though this time I didn’t waste my time trying to argue with these pinheads. Good grief, a couple months ago a feminist actually cited Barack Obama to me as proof that members of formerly oppressed groups could “achieve greatness”. In the latest batch of comments, some dimwit claims that homosexuality is not genetic. I didn’t bother to link her to the truckloads of studies proving that it is; she can get someone with a penis to show her how to use Google. (This same dimbo also claims that the real problem isn’t feminism or patriarchy, it’s capitalism, and when we have world communism everything will be wonderful, and that Eastern European women – coincidentally the women from the main part of the world which has actually tried the system which she claims will turn the world into paradise – are brainless automatons.)

Also, someone at my wordpress backup is pissed that I haven’t logged in to approve her idiotic screed arguing with me. See, at wordpress, the default setting is that a new commenter’s first comment is automatically moderated. After that’s approved, later comments are automatically posted. Since I haven’t logged in there in a couple of weeks, the comment hasn’t gotten approved. This so incensed her that she left the same comment a second time, and then a third comment demanding how many times she has to post it before I’ll approve it. Apparently I’m supposed to log in regardless of what’s going on in my life so she can have the ego boost of her rantings being published on my site, and also wordpress is supposed to change its policy for her. That being the case, I think I won’t bother to log in over there for a while longer. Let this entitlement princess learn a little patience.

Also, someone named Kinderling has real issues with Goths. S/he also said I would go up in his/her estimation by posting this link, so here goes:

Couple ‘choose’ to have deaf baby

A lesbian couple in the US have provoked strong criticism by deliberately choosing to have a deaf baby.
Sharon Duchesneau and Candy McCullough, who have both been deaf since birth, were turned down by a series of sperm banks they approached looking for a donor suffering from congenital deafness.

Tammy Bruce wrote about this pair of child abusers in one of her books. Last I heard, their baby showed signs of deafness. Disgusting.

But let’s get on to what I really wanted to post about, because this is so hilarious I had to share it right away.

Bloody Hell: Menstrual Activists Make Periods Public

Today we learned an awesome new word: Menarchy, or menstrual anarchy.

Um, yeah. Sign me up. Not.

The photograph at left is the work of artist Ingrid Berthon-Moine. It is part of a series of pictures that show women wearing the blood that was only recently inside their bodies on their lips. If you think this is gross, Germaine Greer has some choice words for you: “if you think you are emancipated, you might consider the idea of tasting your own menstrual blood – if it makes you sick, you’ve a long way to go, baby,” she wrote in 1970.

Oh, the horrors of patriarchy! Those mean old men conspired for centuries to prevent us women from the joy of tasting our own menstrual blood! We’ll never be free until our mouths are filled with our own blood!

1969: Men put men on the moon.
1970: Women taste their own menstrual blood.

Gee, how could I possibly not respect the amazing accomplishments of feminism?

It’s probably no surprise that we think this new found openness is pretty great. Despite the weird name, Menarchists are trying to do for periods what Oprah did for pooping.

I have no idea what Oprah did for pooping, but then, like all people more intelligent than a unicellular organism, I don’t watch Oprah. (Actually, that’s a very succinct way to prove the superiority of men over women: Which sex watches Oprah?) Anyway, pooping is about the highest accomplishment she or any other feminist could possibly hope for, so small wonder they’re glorifying it.

I have never made but one prayer to God, a very short one: “O Lord, make my enemies ridiculous.” And God granted it.

Still have a very full plate, will probably not show up here again for a few more weeks.