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Archive for the ‘Stupidity’ Category

Since this year is the 50th anniversary of the pill, there are lots of interesting retrospectives on its history and significance.  TIME has a cover article with some really interesting tidbits.

In 1873 Congress passed a law banning birth control information as obscene. So women seeking ways to limit the number of children they bore had to know how to read the papers. Through the turn of the century, advertisements for potions to treat “female disorders” or menstrual irregularities carried a bold, bright warning: “Portuguese Female Pills, not to be used during pregnancy for they will cause miscarriage.”

The warning, of course, was the ad.

One of the researchers instrumental in developing the pill was a conservative  Catholic who was certain that the  Church would approve it:

Rock thought the Pill provided an exquisite chemical escape hatch. With the Pill, there was no barrier preventing the union of sperm and egg; all the Pill did, Rock argued, was mimic naturally occurring hormones to extend the safe period, so that sex was safe all month long. The church wouldn’t need to change its historic teaching, he suggested; the Pill just fell outside its definition of contraception.

Yeah, well, if he only knew how many single celled babies he was about to kill, he’d be sorry.

As I read the TIME article, I was reminded of something I found a few days ago in the bowels of the internet somewhere.  It’s an excerpt from a book  called Eco-Sex (seriously!) by some greener-than-thou woman who thinks the pill is going to kill us all:

. . .a woman’s cycle should not be trifled with. We ovulate, and then we menstruate in order to cleanse our bodies of eggs that haven’t been fertilized. This natural process is inhibited by the Pill, which serves to trick the body into thinking that it is pregnant all the time. It shuts off ovulation. Many women, after years of being on the Pill, find that they can’t get pregnant for months or years later—their fertility can be impaired over the long term.

Misinformation and outright lies aside: what the fuck,  lady?  The pill gets enough flak from social conservatives already.  Why are you lying and using science and environmentalism as cover?  Also, why are you writing in italics?

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Because I can’t come up with a better explanation for the existence of this horrid ad:

Or these:

Someone needs to tell these guys that for women, being ogled is a significant deterrent to exercise.  I used to dread going running whenever I was home on break from college, because there was this guy who lived a mile or two away who would ogle and harass me constantly, to the point of following me IN HIS CAR because he was angry that I wouldn’t stop and talk to him.  Fortunately, I think he moved away, since now I can go running in peace.

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Today my ex-boyfriend (who knows me well) sent me this little  gem of a blogpost.  It’s written by a guy–no, a dad–who got in some really precious father-son bonding time by taking his eleven year old to that exemplar of family-style chain restaurants, Hooters.  The post and its comments are chock-full of stupidity, and I have had a bad day and am not in the mood to take stupidity seriously.  So we’re going to play a game of, “re-write the stupid statements for comic effect.”  Ready?

I am sure that my children’s interest in all things sexual is stamped in their DNA somewhere and not subject to rise and fall based on how many boobs they see over a cheeseburger.

Sexuality is TOTALLY impervious to social conditioning.  That’s what DNA means.  Impervious to social conditioning. It’s also why I had to put my son in an artificial setting with hyper-sexualized women in order to help him understand how to be the right kind of guy.

In the end, I would rather my kids be exposed to such things and see their reaction rather than driving through McDonald’s for yet another Happy Meal in which nothing is gained but a 1,000 extra calories of processed food.

When my son was two, I was like, hey sweetie! come over here! daddy has a treat for you! And then I gave him a bottle with lemon juice in it, and he grimaced and spit it out, but you know what?  He could’ve been drinking canola oil, and that would’ve been worse because it would’ve made him fat.  No one has sex with fat people.

The trip to Hooters, I saw, as an opportunity to see how he conducts himself around women. If he drooled and couldn’t take his eyes of the waitress, then that would be an unmistakable cue to me to start preparing another birds and the bees talk.  If he acted embarrassed and shy, then that would be a sign that such a pointed talk could wait a bit.

The great thing about my son is that he would never be embarrassed and shy because he knew I was intently watching his reaction to a pair of DD boobs a foot away from his face.  He’s cool like that.

And from the comments:

Wow. I can’t believe how uptight some people are. Seriously, this is some Puritanical stuff going on right now.

Look, I don’t understand why you guys don’t get it.  It’s so simple.  There are two choices; you can either be a Hugh Hefner, or a Jim Bob Duggar.  Pick one. I personally chose Hugh Hefner because he has better hair.  Although Jim Bob does have a bigger harem.  I go back and forth.

And:

She’s [the Hooter’s waitress] not being sexually molested. She’s not a stripper. No one is attacking her in way. . . I, personally, have been to a strip club with my father when I was 18. My dad is a great father and one hell of a person. He’s been married to my mom for 32 years and they’re still together. But you know what? He’s human! I know he looks at other women, because it’s only natural.

I can’t make fun of this one, because when I read it all I can think about is this Lifetime movie I saw years ago.  The protagonist was a prim, artsy girl, an aspiring actress, who got into stripping to pay for her acting classes because her super WASPy parents wanted her to be a lawyer and refused to help her out.  So she keeps it a secret and gets this cokehead roommate who steals all her money (natch) and then DIES when she has a botched breast implant operation.  (Way to show those hussies that get fake boobs, lifetime!)  And then one day her father and brother visit the strip club for kicks, and they see her stripping!  Yelling and tears ensue, and she ultimately goes home with them, but no one, not one person, asks why it was ok for her father and brother to go to the strip club, but not for her to be a stripper.

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"Harry, where's some water? Should I drink some water?"

When you saw the latest Harry Potter movie, were you appalled by the beloved trio’s flagrant use of alcohol as a crutch to ease the pain of their terrorized adolescence?  I, for one, have seen many, many episodes of Intervention, so I know when to get worried about the substance abuse of random (fictional) people, and the behavior I saw in The Half Blood Prince frankly terrified me.

The first warning sign was when Hermione and Harry started hanging out with that new Professor Whats-his-face, getting trashed on, well, we don’t know what was in those glasses, that’s how bad it was.  As they lurch around his office, we see the confusion in their young faces–“what is this feeling? why do my limbs feel so muddy?”–turn to hard, bright mania–“I can’t feel the pain in my scar anymore! heyyouguys what if I stood ON this potted plant?!”

Then they all went to Hogsmeade and drank butterbeer without ordering any food, which is completely illegal for 16 year olds in the U.K, as we all know.   And Hermione, bless her wretched little heart, got a bit too unwound and took off her top and cut a lewd, grotesque caper on the table, much to Harry’s embarrassment and Ron’s secret delight.  Then, sweet God, Harry began carrying a flask.  Everywhere.  He dribbled it over his waffles in the morning and clutched it in the shower while he cried before bed.  (It doesn’t matter if I cry in the shower because there’s so much water in there anyway, he thinks.)  Around this time, we in the audience realize that Harry only wears long sleeves.

These kids need help, obviously.  Luckily, the concerned lady writers of the New York Times are here to explain our heroes’ dysfunction. They detail Harry’s classic addictive personality (which  is exacerbated by his life of constant, stomach-clenching anxiety) and Ron’s myriad of pathetic inadequacies.  And, oh, Hermione, honey?  You’d better cut back on the butterbeer  because Ron and Harry aren’t always going to be around to pry those rapey Slytherin Quidditch players off of you.  You’re welcome.

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uglytruthposterThis movie* is either about

a) a blowjob

b) blah blah single girl blah marriage blah blah blah empowerment blah

If you guessed b), you are (unfortunately) right.  Here’s the trailer:

*Based on the preview, I’m assuming this poster is meant to convey that women are starry-eyed, tender, emotional, and CRAZY, while men are simply big throbbing cocks.  But the heart in the graphic is a little confusing.  Is it in the woman’s head because she thinks instead of feeling? Or does she emote instead of thinking?  Is the man’s sex drive supplanting both thinking AND feeling? etc., etc.

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There was an article in the Boston Globe a few days ago which addressed the sad, sad fate of women who want a career and children.  It’s pretty standard fearmongering: blah blah blah women who wait until their 30s to get pregnant give birth to babies with flippers so you need to get married and start procreating now or it’s donor eggs for you missy! This part was especially baffling:

“There is plenty of evidence to show that the quality of your eggs takes a nose dive at age 35. And about 20 percent of pregnancies end in miscarriage, which means you have almost a 50 percent chance of having to go through three pregnancies to have two children. And it’s recommended that you breast feed, which decreases your ability to get pregnant, at least while you’re breast feeding. So be realistic: You can’t count on getting pregnant three times in three years.”

Wait, what? First, the rate of miscarriage is around 15% of known pregnancies.  And why do you have to have two full term pregnancies within a three year time frame, exactly? And, thirdly, breastfeeding only reliably prevents ovulation when you’re doing it a lot, i.e., when the baby is less than six months, and most people don’t want to get pregnant again that soon. Hey, what’s this woman’s background and how is she an expert on fertility, you ask?

Well, turns out the author, a Ms. Penelope Trunk, is a career columnist and ex-software executive. So, yeah.  She has a blog called “The Brazen Careerist,” where she dispenses such valuable career advice as this post titled “Try to Be Funny, Even if You’re Not.” An excerpt:

“. . .people who are funny are generally smart and creative people, because humor is about putting two unlikely things together in a clever way, according to an interview with Chris Robert, professor of management at the University of Missouri-Columbia.”

Bet you didn’t know that professors of management are all about the science of humor, now, did you?

“In the category of research to support what we already know, Adrian Gostick and Scott Christopher surveyed more than one million employees to find out that people like fun offices. This news is revealed in their book, The Levity Effect: Why it Pays to Lighten Up. Anyway, their point is that fun people are more likable. Which is the problem with women: We are not as funny as men. That is not their point. It is my point.”

Her point, got it? And this point I am making right now? It is my point. Not hers. (more…)

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