Susan B. Anthony List: Winning

An interesting article in National Journal shows that, while pro-choice political groups generally raise far more money than pro-life groups, the pro-life Susan B. Anthony List stomps the crap out of the pro-choice National Organization for Women:

National Journal also features video stories including interviews with SBA List Chairwoman Marjorie Dannenfelser:

'Frankly, my dear . . '

Rhett Butler still doesn't give a damn, which is why women can't resist him, as I explain in my latest column for The American Spectator:

While those around him scrupulously obey the superficial social conventions of the age, Rhett scoffs at his own disrepute and brashly invites scandal, as when he shocks Atlanta society by bidding $150 for the honor of dancing with the recently widowed Scarlett. And while Ashley is torn by doubt, Rhett is the embodiment of decisive certainty.
He has a way with the ladies, but Rhett is indisputably a man's man. When his blunt skepticism toward the South's prospects in the impending war enrages the touchy pride of his hosts in the drawing room at Twelve Oaks, Rhett is insulted by young Charles Hamilton, but declines the challenge. "I apologize again for all my shortcomings," Rhett says as he excuses himself. The hot-tempered Hamilton imputes this to cowardice -- "He refused to fight!" -- only to be informed by Ashley that Butler is a notoriously deadly duelist, "one of the best shots in the country."
In an agrarian antebellum society obsessed with the noble ideals of ancient chivalry, Rhett's attitudes are shockingly modern. He is a calculating capitalist, shamelessly professing his pursuit of self-interest. When Scarlett reproaches him for doubting the Confederate cause, Butler memorably retorts, "I believe in Rhett Butler. He's the only cause I know." . . .

Read the whole scandalous thing, which doesn't shy away from the accusations of raaaaacism that plague Gone With The Wind today -- the 70th anniversary of the film's premiere in my native Atlanta.

Turner Classic Movies will show GWTW tonight at 8 p.m. ET. (You can read Washington Times film critic Gary Arnold's discussion of the TCM broadcast and the new 70th Anniversary Collector's DVD version.) Most media will either ignore this anniversary or else view it through a politically correct prism. ABC News airhead Ashley Hall managed to get Australian film-studies professor Deb Verhoeven to share this slice of feminist idiocy:

"Some people see the film and see an independent woman's struggle and her ultimate resilience and another person sitting next to them will see a terrible story about sexual subjugation."

Although you need subjugating badly, Professor Verhoeven. That's what's wrong with you. You should be subjugated, and often, and by someone who knows how.

Rhett Butler's offenses to feminism are extreme -- and extremely ironic, considering that he was created by a quite modern career woman, Margaret Mitchell, who remains the best-selling female writer of all time. It's easy to imagine Rhett laughing at feminist accusations of misogyny, just as he would laugh at the accusation of racism.

Fear and Self-Loathing
Coincidentally enough, I had a long phone conversation yesterday with Juliette "Baldilocks" Ochieng, the Luo-American blogger who asked her white readers why they were so afraid of being labelled "racist," and was surprised by the response:

I knew that there was fear out there, but I didn't comprehend the breadth of it.

As I told Juliette, there are both practical and emotional motives for this widespread fear. Practically, in the age of affirmative action and equal-opportunity employment law, the mere suspicion of "racism" can be a career-killer for anyone with ambitions of climbing the corporate ladder. Look at how Larry Summers' academic career was destroyed after he offended the feminists at Harvard, and then try to imagine what would have happened if he had similarly offended the racial grievance-mongers.

Vicious race hustlers who plague America's universities are a major reason an absurd flinch-reaction to the "racist" label is so commonplace among our educated elite. Just ask Sergio Gor what it was like when left-wingers at George Washington University perpetrated an anti-Muslim hate hoax against the campus chapter of Young America's Foundation. Or ask YAF's Jason Mattera about the reaction to his "whites-only scholarship" protest at Roger Williams University.

The cringing fearfulness Shelby Steele describes in his book White Guilt has to be "carefully taught" -- to borrow with obvious irony the famous lyrics from South Pacific -- and our educational system now teaches white guilt as fanatically as Nazi schools taught Aryan superiority in the 1930s.

Acknowledgement of racial guilt is now de rigueur among white bien-pensants who, if we may continue this impromptu French lesson, are required to prove themselves amis des noirs if they wish to preserve their amour propre.

Terrorized by the very real risk of denunciation and ostracism if they dispute the regnant racial orthodoxy, whites internalize this politically correct fear. As is often the case when fear is hidden in the heart, however, they seek to resolve the inevitable cognitive dissonance by projecting their inner angst onto scapegoats.

Whited Sepulchres
In recent years I've noticed that those who most relentlessly charge others with racism are white people who, by pointing the accusing finger, seek to make a public display of their own colorblind virtue:

Not only am I not a racist, but I am such an enlightened and courageous crusader against racism as to be able to detect the hidden hate of my fellow whites and to expose and fearlessly denounce it. Admire me!

To these self-righteous hypocrites, we may be tempted to reply with the two most famous words of Rahm Emanuel (hint: the second word is "you"), but instead we should remind them what Jesus said of their predecessors:

Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye are like unto whited sepulchres, which indeed appear beautiful outward, but are within full of dead men's bones, and of all uncleanness. Even so ye also outwardly appear righteous unto men, but within ye are full of hypocrisy and iniquity.

"Whited sepulchres," indeed. They tithe the mint and cumin of racial self-righteousness, and when they make a proselyte, he is "twofold more the child of hell." (Sharmuta and Killgore Trout come to mind here.) They react with predictable fury toward anyone who calls them out for their pharisaical fraudulence, as the ugly reality of their dishonest hypocrisy contradicts the virtuous reputation they covet.

Professing themselves to be wise, they became fools

Read the whole thing, as the bloggers say. And then please read the rest of my American Spectator column about Rhett Butler, who knew how to make the most of a bad reputation.

Speaking of making the most of such things, I once more wish to thank readers who have already hit the tip jar to help send me to Pasadena for Alabama's Jan. 7 national championship game. (Howdy, Texas A&M fans. Go Aggies!) Remember, we need to average $70 a day for the next three weeks to do this, so that perhaps I can pay chivalrous respect to Baldilocks (and also Little Miss Attila) in person.

Update: (Smitty) Geller 'lanch!

What to Give Your Wife for Christmas

(Note to readers: This post will be more enjoyable if you try reading it aloud with a Deep South accent, somewhere in the range between Haley Barbour gumbo and Jerry Foxworthy grits.)

My conservative concern for traditional family values means that I am enthusiastically pro-marriage. In addition to my two decades of marital bliss, with six wonderful children, I'm constantly playing matchmaker with my single friends, trying to hook them up with their soulmates.

Once I get theem matched, I then begin to harass them about getting married -- "When's the wedding? Why don't y'all just run down to the courthouse and tie the knot?" -- so as to avoid a problem caused by long engagements: The temptation to fornication. You might surprised just how commonplace pre-marital sin has become in our society. Or perhaps not.

Pro-family advocacy doesn't end on the wedding day, of course. Once the young lovebirds get lawfully hitched, it's time to start badgering them about making babies. Some suspect me of furthering a clandestine agenda, but my Victory Through Breeding Program is no secret. Between sodomy and abortion (the most important "rights" for liberals), the Democratic Party is charting a path to demographic oblivion, and conservatves can hasten that process simply by doing what comes natural.

The birds and bees. Tarzan and Jane. "Let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel." IYKWIMAITYD.

Despite the genius simplicity of my pro-family agenda -- "Get married and make babies" ain't rocket science, folks -- there remains the problem of divorce. A woman won't get married and breed a Duggar-sized brood if she's afraid her hubby is going to run off with some two-bit homewrecking floozy like Mark Sanford's Argentine tramp. Guys, if you want that long-lasting death-do-us-part deal, you've got to show your wife that you really love her.

Which brings us to the subject of what to buy your wife for Christmas: The Cuisinart Grind and Brew.

Trust me on this one, my friend. Nothing says "love" like the Cuisinart Grind and Brew. Add the beans, add the water, push the button and -- whirrrrrrr! -- just a few minutes later, you've got 10 cups of fresh-ground, fresh-brewed coffee.

Better Marriage Through Technology, you see, because the Cuisinart Grind and Brew comes with a timer-alarm function. Your wife can set it up at night before she goes to bed and at 6:51 a.m., be awakened by the beautiful music -- whirrrrrr! -- of that high-speed bean-grinder going into action, knowing that the coffee will be piping hot when she brings you that first cup of the morning at 7 a.m. And since you don't have to get in the shower until 7:20 a.m. . . .

Well, a little snuggle-time is a fine way to start the day. IYKWIMAITYD. But wait -- there's more!

The Cuisinart Grind and Brew features a thermal carafe that keeps your coffee hot for hours. So if your early-morning snuggle-time leaves you in such a mellow mood that you decide to call in sick at work -- "Hey, boss, I'm sorry, but I think I might coming down with something here . . ." -- that second cup will still be warm when you finally crawl out of bed about 10 o'clock.

Now, some of you fellows may be thinking to yourselves, "Do I really want to give my wife a household appliance for Christmas?" Relax, boys. This isn't like a vacuum cleaner or something. The Cuisinart Grind and Brew is a luxury gourmet experience, especially if you add a few clever gifts under the tree:

• Chocolate Covered Coffee Beans by Caffe' Sant' Eustachio -- Pure luxury from Rome's most famous cafe -- 8.8 ounces of fine beans.
• English Toffee Decaf Coffee by Red Buffalo -- Delicious toffee flavor with no caffeine makes for a relaxing hot cup on a cold winter's night -- 12 ounces of fine beans.
• Dark Roasted 100% Kona Coffee by Hawaii Roasters -- Why worry about all that "fair trade" crap from South America and Indonesia, when you can enjoy this delicious product of American imperialism? Dark roasted for that hard-core caffeine jolt to get you going in the morning -- 16 ounces of fine beans.
• Dark Chocolate & Mint Squares by Ghiradelli -- Coffee and chocolate go perfectly together, and Ghirdelli is the world's finest -- 5.32 ounces of deliciousness in a gift bag. If your wife likes dark chocolate, she might also like their Twilight Delight Intense Dark 72% Cacao Chocolate. For a more varied selection, give her Ghiradelli's Ghiradelli Holiday Assortment, which comes in an attractive gift tin.
• William Wallace Shortbread Highlanders by Walkers -- OK, she's got the coffee, she's got the chocolate -- what's missing? Cookies! And these delicious shortbread cookies are 29% butter. They come in a beautiful 14-ounce tin commemorating Scottish freedom fighter William "Braveheart" Wallace, so the missus can indulge her Mel Gibson fantasies, too.
• Imported Scottish Pure Butter Assorted Shortbread Cookies by Walkers -- Yes, my friends, this lovely gift tin contains the motherlode: Nearly four pounds of high-calorie, cholesterol-filled goodness. And smart husbands know the secret message here: "No, honey, you're not getting fat. There's just more to love."

Well, there you have it, fellows. The secret of a long, happy marriage is to give your wife something thoughtful for Christmas.

The best part? You can remind her how much you love her 364 days a year, just by saying those magic words that every woman longs to hear: "Hey, honey, can you fix me another cup of coffee?"

Merry Christmas, y'all!

UPDATE: Addressing some reaction to my pro-family agenda. Also, trying to explore new frontiers in shameless capitalist blogging.

Governor Palin: Lean into the curve

Just got through doing a long in-person interview about populism and the contemporary political landscape, sat down to find out what had been going on in the blogosphere for the past few hours, and at Memeorandum saw this headline:

Newsweek Photo of Palin Shows
Media Bias and Sexism

"Sexism" is an ideological pejorative coined by feminists and, as such, a term I disdain -- actually, I make a point of jabbing feminists at every opportunity.

Grant that the editors of Newsweek hate Sarah Palin. We have every reason to believe that the choice of photo of Palin in shorts represented an attempt to diminish and belittle Palin, to portray her as a cheesecake bimbo, the political equivalent of Lindsay Lohan. Palin herself writes:

The out-of-context Newsweek approach is sexist and oh-so-expected by now. If anyone can learn anything from it: it shows why you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, gender, or color of skin. The media will do anything to draw attention - even if out of context.

That this is "sexist," OK. Gotcha. But does Sarah Palin want to assume a feminist victimhood posture, to say that she is being oppressed by the patriarchy?

No, I think not. Excuse me for suggesting that the way for Palin to leverage this -- to "re-brand" herself as they say -- is to lean into the curve. The better response would be along the lines of:

"Yes, I am a woman. Yes, I have legs. And, yes, I've been told they're very nice legs. Exactly why the editors of Newsweek decided that showing me in shorts was appropriate for the cover of their magazine is for them to explain -- and good luck with that. I guess I'm trying to figure out what side of the double-standard applies here. Levi can get naked for Playgirl and still be taken seriously, but Newsweek thinks it's something scandalous to show me in running shorts? Just wait until I grant my first in-depth foreign-policy interview to Maxim!"

Or something to that effect. The governor signifies her self-awareness that she is something of a political and cultural novelty -- a conservative woman who is a viable presidential prospect. She is aware that her good looks are both an asset and a potential liability, and that liberals want to portray her as a trailer-trash airhead, the "Caribou Barbie," etc.

She gets the joke, and she turns it back against them. Nothing disarms an attack so well as self-deprecating humor. It's like the way Reagan joked about his own extremist reputation: "The Republican Party needs both its right wing and its far-right wing."

To use the word "sexist" against Newsweek is to accuse enlightened liberal elitists of violating their own egalitarian standards -- which is all fine and good. But "sexist" also sounds like one of those grim, humorless Women's Studies professors ranting at a campus "Take Back the Night" rally.

Ick. Don't go there, governor. You are a happily married Christian conservative pro-life woman who -- oh, glorious coincidence! -- looks good in shorts. Your husband is a certified USDA prime slice of hunkalicious beef, your son is a soldier in Bravo Company, and your daughter is a single mom with a selfish douchebag ex-boyfriend.

All of which is to say, you are the 21st-century all-American woman, a symbol to which a lot of moms can relate. Just think of the enormous untapped electoral potential in the "My Daughter's Ex-Boyfriend Is A Selfish Douchebag" Coalition.

Lean into the curve, governor. Be yourself. Relax and have fun. Avoid the humorless feminist victimhood pose. If Hillary Clinton couldn't make that work against Obama, the media sure as heck won't let you use it, so let it go.

When you wish to call attention to the media's double standard -- both the male/female thing and the liberal/conservative thing -- always do so in a way the displays confidence and good humor. Invite the audience to laugh with you, and give them an opportunity to laugh at the media. And let the media laught at themselves. You might be surprised how many people in the press corps think their peers take this Serious Journalism stuff a bit too seriously.

Don't ignore your critics, governor, but don't let them undermine your confidence, either. You are winning. Just don't forget: Lean into the curve.

I guess Darleen isn't a feminist superstarlet

by Smitty

Amanda Marcotte at Double X:

But you don’t see many 16-year-olds hosting their own talk shows on major news networks. Having a baby is a lot of work, absolutely, but if it required the genius-level capabilities, the human race would have died out a long time ago.

Darleen Click:

And one doesn’t see many 16-year-olds successfully raising children on their own either. Mandy is not stupid enough to pretend giving birth is the same as parenting.

Is it possible that these levels of contempt for family and children exists beyond the Vagina Warrior class and contributes to the dismal portrayal of same in Western entertainment media, if not a birthrate that is way below replacement?

Marcotte continues:

And let's not forget how these arguments sound to people who can't have kids, because they're infertile or for some other reason. Telling women that having kids is the most important thing they can do makes the deliberately childless laugh at you, but for women who can't have kids, it's much like telling them they aren't even real women.

One wonders if the real discussion here is more about materialism than parenting. All I can tell women is that the older business norm of driving the house is every bit as valuable in the long run as the secular career. With the additional value that motherhood, by childbirth or adoption, as the case may be, can love you in your old age. Ask that of your pen or watch you get from your company. Or your pension plan that got cleaned out by white-collar thieves.

The denigration of the traditional family arrangement by feminists is as false and hollow as the denigration of capitalism by socialists. Yet feminists and socialists will preach their hellish anti-gospel while they've breath.

How to Offend a Woman

Tell her she's "emotional," as does John Hawkins:

The old feminine ideal was the woman who got married to a good man, stayed home, took care of their house, took care of the kids, and took pride in making the whole family function.
Now, look at the messages women get from popular culture: Dress like a fashion model, cat around like the women from Sex in the City, get married, have a beatiful house, have 2.5 kids, have a career that’s every bit as successful and fulfilling as your husband’s, and still look like a professional actress, even when you’re 60 years old.
There are only so many hours in a day, days in a week, and weeks in a year and there just isn’t time for most women to do all that. Granted, there are a few who manage to pull it off — or at least seem to do it to the outside world.
But, the reality is that most people have skills, abilities, desires, and wants that they never fulfill — women, in part because of their emotional natures, are just made to feel worse about not living up to the hype of what modern feminism says a woman should be. (Emphasis added.)

As soon as you tell a woman she's emotional, she will . . . er, become emotional:

This is a lot of words to say that I think it’s wrong to dismiss the loss to the individual woman and to society when a woman doesn’t use her gifts and talents just as I think it is a loss to the individual man and to society when a man doesn’t involve himself with his child’s life.

OK, sweetheart. Now that you're done with that, how about you run along and fix me a cup of coffee?

(John, you can thank me later for taking the heat off you. Being the most-hated man in the blogosphere is a tough job, but somebody's got to do it.)

Which is likely to happen any day now . . .

"Charles Johnson couldn’t get hired by the Huffington Post if David Brooks fell victim to auto-erotic asphyxiation."
-- Aleister, at American Glob

BTW, I'm grateful to Aleister, whose diligence in shameless blogwhoring has reminded the online world of arguably the most brilliant commentary on feminism in the history of the blogosphere. Sometimes, even I forget how good I am . . .

Will some unattractive, vengeful, sexually-frustrated women be angered by this reminder? Don't sweat it. I can solve all their problems with seven magic words: Get me a cup of coffee, hon . . .

Go Phyllis!

Cynthia Yockey rounds up a brutal punk-smacking that Phyllis Chesler laid on Naomi Wolfe who -- I am not making this up -- defended the burqa as "feminist."

My apologies to Cynthia and Phyllis for not noticing earlier, as I get so wrapped up in my own flame-wars that it's like tunnel vision.

Speaking of flame wars and feminism, Little Miss Attila took womynly offense at Ace of Spades after Ace finally lost patience with LGF's Charles Johnson over the Van Jones controversy. In exasperation, Ace's cri de coeur was: "This is like arguing with a woman of the more irrational sort."

Attila acts outraged, but she knows exactly what Ace is talking about. Any argument between a man and a woman will eventually reach the stage at which the woman's key point is, "You are a bad person for disagreeing with me."

In response, the man's argument becomes, "Why don't you shut your stupid mouth and fix me some biscuits?"

Which was essentially what Ace was saying to Charles.

So wrong in so many ways

KIRO-TV has a videofeature on "Go Girl," the convenient feminist Satanic device that enables women to do what God never meant women to do. WMAR-TV explains this helpful liberating perverse product:

"Go Girl" was initially designed by a doctor a few years ago but was perfected recently by a mom in Minnesota.She says the device allows females to go to the bathroom standing up and significantly reduces "accidents" on your clothes.One woman who tried "Go Girl" said, "I'm excited, I live in the woods, I like to pee and I'm going to New York for 2 weeks. Now, I can pee in the alley with the best of 'em."

As General Bullmoose said, "Progress Is The Root of All Evil."

Memo to Judith Warner

"[Sarah Palin] is the 21st-century face of the backlash against women’s progress. . . . The hatred of women . . . is still alive and well in our society, and when directed at well-educated women, it’s socially acceptable, too."
-- Judith Warner

If Sarah Palin is "the 21st-century face" of anything, at least it's a pretty face, eh?

People who like Sarah Palin don't hate women. But everybody hates whiny bitches like you.

Now, get me a cup of coffee, hon. Cream only.

(Hat-tips: Little Miss Attila and Darleen Click.)

Blame Tigerhawk for this

I'm looking at SiteMeter and seeing more click-overs from Tigerhawk, but I don't see where he's got any new linkage to me. Ergo, he got some kind of big 'Lanche today, and I'm getting extra traffic from the blogroll or something.

But he's got good stuff, including this:

Marriage and housework: "Marriage is no longer a man's path to less housework."

The hell you say. If marriage doesn't decrease your housework, guys, you're doing something wrong. You do it right, you'll occasionally get breakfast in bed and never even have to think about the laundry.

Before you ladies start screaming "sexist patriarchal monster!" -- guilty as charged, ma'am -- you really need to think about the alternatives. I was completely autonomous as a bachelor. My mother worked, and she died when I was 16. There were just us three boys (no sisters), and I had plenty of experience with cooking, cleaning and laundry. So it wasn't as if I needed those services, but the package deal . . .

A free-market economist Thomas Sowell could explain all this. Think trade-offs, efficiencies of scale, stuff like that.

There is such a thing as a marriage market and, given current market conditions, there is a noticeable surplus of angry careerist bitches who consider domestic drudgery beneath their dignity as womyn. Therefore, if only as a marketing strategy, no matter how demeaning you consider it to scrub toilets or fold towels, try to pretend as if nothing else on earth could give you greater pleasure.

Honestly. You're already faking orgasms so . . .

Shocker: Men and woman are different!

If you're one of those pea-brains who thinks that male/female differences are entirely the result of a misogynistic patriarchal culture, read about the man who went through menopause:

I was in the middle of treatment for an aggressive case of prostate cancer last winter, and it included a six-month course of hormone therapy. My Lupron shots suppressed testosterone, which is the fuel for prostate cancer.
When your testosterone is being throttled, there are bound to be side effects. So, with the help of Lupron, I spent a few months aboard the Good Ship Menopause with all the physical baggage that entails. . . .

Read the whole thing, and show it to any feminist moron who is so stupid as not to understand that the fundamental differences between men and women are biological, permanent, and relevant.

Things beyond my ken

by Smitty

  How does the imagining left, especially the feminists, force western manhood to wear a hairshirt, while maintaining relative silence over what goes on in Muslim countries? Is it a "simple" case of displacement?
  Larry Johnson is unforgiving on the point: Yo Bitches, Wear that Hijab.
  Larry is less than fair. For that kind of a blog-drubbing, he owes the POTUS an alternative text on the topic. Getting the issue raised at all is something of a win. I liked the allusion to the list of countries that have elected female leaders. Nice oblique slap at the rest who've either had the same clowns in power for decades, or don't even bother with them thar newfangled "ee-leck-shun" thingies. I doubt there is much cure for such cultures, other than a couple hundred years.
  As a thought experiment, would we gain anything if we could give the feminists to these "retro" dudes for some "western male appreciation training"?

It's Time for 'Girl Stuff,' WithYour Hostess, Little Miss Attila

Dear Attila: Your post about icky girl stuff was very amusing, in the "a-ha" smile-of-recognition way that only a man who has been married for 20 years could be amused.

My bachelor friends are mystified by my assurance that they don't know what love is. When your wife sends you to the store, when you stride boldly into the feminine hygiene products aisle in search of the specific brand and style, when you find it and then go to the cashier and purchase that package of Always[TM] Ultra Thin Regular without embarrassment or explanation -- well, that, my friends, is love.

And let's talk hormone-induced mood changes, shall we? I realize we're already well past National Offend A Feminist Week, but doesn't this inescapable biological reality argue strongly against the kind of sexual "equality" (identical and therefore fungible) that is the basis of feminist ideology?

As blatantly reactionary as it was for my friend G. Gordon Liddy to discuss Judge Sotomayor's nomination in this light, it's not as if the G-Man was just makin' stuff up. We're talking about a genuine, biologically-based difference, are we not?

Even a wise Latina from the South Bronx could have a bad day or two every so often. If one were disposed to entertain dramatic hypotheticals, what might happen if one day Associate Justice Sotomayor decided, mid-conference, to put an end to an argument from Chief Justice Roberts by . . . well, putting an end to Chief Justice Roberts?

Even if her aim were imperfect, an 11-round clip in a 9-mm Glock semi-auto would give her sufficient margin of error that the next ruling surely would be issued by a uninamous court, because the deceased Associate Justice Scalia could not write a posthumous dissent (in which the dearly departed Chief Justice and the late Associate Justice Thomas would certainly concur from The Great Courtroom in the Sky).

Well, as I said, if one were disposed to think hypothetically, such a ghastly scenario could be imagined, just as a hypothetically-minded person might ponder what might happen if one day a PMS-afflicted female pilot at NAS Pensacola decided to download the GPS coordinates for Rush Limbaugh's home in Palm Beach and . . .

Fortunately, I never entertain hypotheticals, nor do I have any imagination. And shame on those who do!

Girl Scouts promote lesbianismand sell delicious Thin Mints . . .

. . . but mainly promote lesbianism:

When many parents think of Girl Scouts, they imagine young girls in uniform selling Thin Mints and Tagalong cookies – not learning about stone labyrinths, world peace, global warming, yoga, avatars, smudging incense, Zen gardens and feminist, communist and lesbian role models.
But that's exactly what many of 2.7 million Girl Scouts will learn about with a new curriculum called "Journeys" released last year. . . .

Conservatives saw this one coming down the pike a few years ago, when the Boy Scouts got raked over the coals for prohibiting gay scoutmasters and the Girl Scouts were so quiet you could hear the crickets chirping.

Back in the day, Bill Buckley* postulated a law of organizational dynamics:

All institutions that are not explicitly conservative will eventually become liberal.

Fast-forward to 2009, and all institutions that do not explicitly prohibit homosexuality will eventually become pro-gay. So next time the Girl Scouts come knocking at your door selling cookies, try not to notice they're now wearing flannel shirts, butch haircuts and sensible shoes.

And if you're foolish enough to let your own child join the Girl Scouts, don't complain when they come back from their annual camporee spouting quotations from Mary Daley and Shulamith Firestone.

"Really, mom, what kind of self-hating homophobic collaborationist are you?"
"Homophobic? Why, I don't . . ."
"We're being oppressed by the patriarchy!"
"Oppressed? What are you . . ."
"It's dad! Don't you see? He's exploiting us!"

Future Femi-Nazis of America!

* -- A commenter suggests Robert Conquest as the originator of the maxim I've attributed to Buckley.

UPDATE II: Linked at the Creative Minority Report. When dealing with feminist dogma, it is important always to be as harsh as possible.

Feminist ideology is so self-evidently counterfactual that only a fool could believe it. Ergo, you should never address a feminist as if you were speaking to a person deserving solicitude, respect and deference, but rather comport yourself as if confronted by an unruly brat throwing a tantrum.

National Offend a Feminist Week was a rousing success. Some of us celebrate all year long.

UPDATE II: Linked at Stop the ACLU and Pirate's Cove. I'm hoping we get some more linkage so this shows up at Memeorandum. Then Amanda Marcotte and Jessica Valenti will denounce the patriarchal homophobia, and I'll ride the tsunami of hate to 10,000+ visits tomorrow. So link me now, you misogynistic right-wing bloggers, and we'll all catch a wave.

Patriarchal misogyny triumphant!

NEW GALLUP POLL:

More Americans "Pro-Life” Than
"Pro-Choice" for First Time

And why? Because they hate women! Because abortion is the most important part of a woman's existence, anyone who opposes abortion is an oppressive hater. (You tell 'em, Amanda Marcotte!)

Too bad Gallup couldn't have announced this poll during National Offend A Feminist Week.

(H/T: Memeorandum.)

Army officer admits: 'The mere idea ofsex with Meghan McCain repulses me'

In a strange development, Lt. Dan Choi was so horrified by the possibility of having sex with the pathetic loser that he decided to become gay, so that Obama was forced to kick him out of the Army:

BTW, you know how I knew the Republican Party was totally screwed in 2008? It apparently never occurred to any of the geniuses at GOP-HQ, "Hey, why don't we pay that guy not to blog about the McCain campaign?"

Now you know why they call it The Stupid Party.

That's something the Mitt Romney brain trust should bear in mind. It was your man who quit after Super Tuesday, thereby letting Captain Queeg get the nomination with a mere 47% of the Republican primary vote.

Having nominated John the Loser in 2008, now the GOP will nominate Mitt the Quitter in 2012. That makes sense. I can blog about that every day, y'know. Because I've got ethics!

* * * * *

Permit me to address a comment the anonymous "Phil" left on an earlier post:

Woo, tough guy! Takes a real man to knock around a 25-year-old girl! Who'd you warm up on, Dakota Fanning?. . . . Use your formidable powers on someone your own size. For real. Gray hair professional journo bashing a chick who couldn't get into a bar too long ago -- very unbecoming.

"Unbecoming"? Chastising a spoiled brat, it would seem to me, is exactly what I ought to be doing.

What Phil evidently means to say is that Meghan McCain, at age 25, should be permitted to (pretend to) speak for the Republican Party, and that Robert Stacy McCain, at age 49, should be silent. That is to say, according to Phil, that experience should defer to youth. By the same principle, knowledge should defer to ignorance.

This inversion of values, this notion that the young and ignorant should tutor the experienced and knowledegable, is a most striking aspect of our contemporary culture. It is the antithesis of conservatism. But, hey, what else are we to expect from someone who defends Meghan McCain?

Double Standards, Squared
Ah, but our friend Phil is quite the traditionalist in one aspect: "He's picking on a girl!" Well, after all, it is National Offend A Feminist Week -- Ann Coulter is among those commemorating the occasion -- and this is an excellent example of why I detest feminism.

On the one hand, feminists tell us, a woman is absolutely equal to a man. On the other hand, feminists declare, if a man dares criticize a woman, he is not only a patriarchal sexist oppressor (as all men are, according to feminist "logic") but he is furthermore accused of being unmanly.

Wait a minute! How on earth do feminists, who derogate traditional sex roles and stridently insist that men and women must be treated as if they were identical, get away with invoking the ancient code that requires men to treat women with deference and courtesy?

A woman must be treated exactly like a man, until that moment when the egalitarian harridan suddenly decides she wants to be treated like a woman, at which point I'm denounced for failing to embody the chivalrous virtues of a character from a Sir Walter Scott novel!

Feminists expect to get away with this ludicrous incoherence -- and I point out merely one of the inherent contradictions of feminism, which are legion -- because feminism is a virus bred in academia, a pathologically decadent subculture notoriously populated by neurasthenic wimps. At Harvard, even a liberal in good standing like Larry Summers could not be permitted the mildest skepticism toward the feminist dogma which interprets every inequality between men and women as the product of misogynistic discrimination.

If this is the case with the president of Harvard University, just imagine the terroristic fury that would be unleashed upon some untenured faculty member who questioned whether the existence of a Women's Studies department was justified by anything other than the fact that, after all, varsity women athletes must major in something.

Narcissus Transfixed
Cozened during her collegiate experience, where the faculty is too frightened -- and the undergraduates too ignorant -- to debunk the myriad fallacies of feminist cant, the young feminist emerges into society to discover that the real world doesn't operate by the rules she has been taught. Rather than causing her to rethink her premises, however, this experience merely reinforces the belief into which she has been rigorously indoctrinated: Woman is born free, yet is everywhere in chains!

And "the personal is political," as the feminists say, so that every anecdote about her encounters with the unfairness of the world is pluralized as data.

Hence, Megan McCain's complaint that because she was expected to refrain from any word or deed that might embarrass her Republican father, "The Republican Party Doesn't Understand Sex."

Like other manifestations of The Vision of the Anointed, Megan McCain's complaint about the conservative defense of moral tradition is essentially narcissistic: It's all about me!

Yeah? Well, it's about me, too, you ignorant slut.

Man, they hate that word, don't they? The precious darlings of liberalism -- and let's make no mistake, Tina Brown only publishes the precious darlings of liberalism -- are permitted to make transvestite jokes about Ann Coulter and make "ping pong" jokes about Michelle Malkin, but no conservative can ever turn the enemy's weapons against the enemy. Khalid Sheikh Mohammed (speaking of precious darlings) can hide out in Pakistan plotting the deaths of thousands, yet liberals will sue if the CIA doesn't treat precious Khalid with kid gloves.

This is a very old tradition among liberals, who defended the arch-traitor Alger Hiss and defamed the patriot Joe McCarthy, who hated Ronald Reagan yet consider Che Guevara a hero deserving of celebration in adulatory biopics. (Remember, kids: You can't spell "liberal" without L-I-E.)

The Monopoly of Discourse
Wonkette complains that Meghan McCain deceitfully promoted her latest column as her "most revealing so far." Rule 5C: Sex sells. So the Republican heiress titilates her Tweeps with hints of sexual revelation, but no one who disagrees with her can engage her on the terrain of her own choosing.

What part of "fuck you" do liberals not understand?

I will not be repeatedly insulted in the most personal terms -- I "do not understand sex"? -- and acquiesce in cowardly silence. You will not deceitfully malign me, impugn my beliefs and dishonor my heroes, and then demand that I treat you as if you deserved my respect.

"Don't piss down my back and tell me it's raining."
-- The Outlaw Josey Wales

Perceptive readers (as opposed to the idiots among you) now begin to perceive what Jeff Goldstein has been trying to tell us about "the fool's game" of allowing one's antagonists to dictate the terms of rhetorical conflict.

Liberals are like the British redcoats complaining that the colonial riflemen at Concord Bridge dared hide behind trees and stone walls, rather than coming out into the open to be slaughtered by volleys of massed musketry.

From the mighty platform of The Daily Beast, wealthy celebrity Meghan McCain tells us that we "do not understand sex," yet heaven forbid some obscure blogger should reply that at least he understands Meghan McCain well enough to bet she's an easy mark after four margaritas. (And a fool like her never stops at three.)

Friedrich Hayek would understand what is going on here. Just as established businesses seek to protect their interests by getting government to erect barriers to entry that disadvantage potential competitors, so too does the liberal attempt to erect barriers to entry into the competition of ideas.

A neurosthenic wimp like David Brooks is acceptable as a columnist for the New York Times, but not Michelle Malkin, David Limbaugh, Mark Steyn or anyone else who might effectively challenge the worldview at 620 Eighth Avenue. And only certain McCains get published by Tina Brown.

This is how the game is played, and any conservative who dares to point it out is accused of whining. Like ad hominem insults, whining is another field of endeavor that liberals wish to monopolize, and if you consent to play by their rules, you will soon discover that you are playing a loser's game.

Just ask Meghan's dad about the loser's game. He spent a full decade sucking up to liberals, and what did it get him? Forty-seven percent of the Republican primary vote and 46% on November 5. And after the GOP nominated every liberal's favorite stereotype of a Republican -- short, grumpy, old and bald -- what did the David Brookses and the Kathleen Parkers shout from the rooftops: BLAME CONSERVATIVES!

And what did I tell you on Election Day? You Did Not Lose. Conservatives are presented with a choice: Continue listening to those who advised them to take the path that led down to destruction, or heed the call of the prophets who warned them against their folly.

Behold: The Philistine giant stands boasting in the plain, and your mighty men hide in terror. Will you join the cowards, or will you be An Army Of Davids?

Fortune favors the bold, and two years ago I'd never even heard of Kathy Shaidle. But look how she stands defiantly against the Canadian Goliath! To borrow a phrase from T. Coddington Van Voorhees VII, I like the cut of her jib.

"One of the basic principles of military strategy is to reinforce success. If you see a man who fights and wins, give him reinforcements, and bid others to emulate his success."

WOLVERINES!

(And in case you're wondering, this is just my morning workout. I'm warming up for a few things I have to say to a certain liberal later today. Did you know that the annual tuition at the prestigious Dalton School is $33,100?)

UPDATE: Daley Gator:

Of course, Meghan brings this type of smackdown on herself by constantly bashing Conservatives. So, Meghan, before you whine about being called a "dirty Moderate" remember that if you dish it out, you best be ready to take it.

Bingo. When you talk about me behind my back, when you insult me, when you pretend to be my friend just so you can get close enough to sucker-punch me and then kick me when I'm down, don't complain when I come back on you like Sonny Corleone on Carlo.

And if you are going to offer yourself as the exemplar of young Republican womanhood, presuming to tell us that conservatives "don't understand sex," you have (a) invited me to point out that my Republican sources describe you as an alcoholic slut, and (b) forfeited any claim to the defense of chivalry by claiming to speak on behalf of women who, unlike yourself, are decent and honorable.

UPDATE II: I've deleted a few very sharp remarks directed at commenter Phil, who e-mailed to inform me of his identity, and with whom I had previously had friendly communication. My e-mail reply to Phil:

Just approved your latest comment, but for obvious reasons did not approve the one in which you gave your phone number. I do not shout idiocies -- "Muslim!" "Terrorist!" -- at campaign rallies, and am not responsible for those who do.
Even if you are among those who blame Sarah Palin for such outbursts (and I do not), the fact is that Steve Schmidt counseled McCain to choose Palin for the simple reason that, without the kind of surge of pro-life conservative enthusiasm she generated, he never stood at chance. Had I been consulted as to how to handle Palin's media, and if McCain hadn't heeded the idiotic Holtz-Eakin's advice to support the bailout, perhaps it might even have been close on Nov. 5.
These are mere hypotheticals, however. If any Republican had ever listened to me, Mitt never would have dropped out in February, no conservative would ever have supported Mike Huckabee, and the Bush White House wouldn't have gone within a country mile of the McCain-Kennedy "shamnesty" bill. My advice has never been sought by any influential Republican, and when I volunteer advice, I am ignored.
All of which is to say, Phil, that if you are seeking some forum in which to discuss the tone and content of the GOP message, there's no point trying to argue it out in my comment fields, because no one of any significance will ever see it there. If I had realized it was you commenting as anonymous "Phil," I'd have told you this directly, rather than taking it to you on the blog. I already have more Republican enemies than even Obama might ever hope for, and I certainly don't want to make an enemy of you.
Am I "mean-spirited"? You might be mean-spirited, too, if you ever tried to walk a mile in my shoes. But please pay attention to my choice of targets, and remember what I've told others: Just because you don't know what I'm doing, don't assume that I don't know what I'm doing.
Your friend,
Robert Stacy McCain

My apologies for the previous error. I can be quick to anger, but am never slow to forgive, as Matthew Yglesias may have been surprised to learn.

How to Reply to a Feminist . . .

. . . if you must. This is National Offend A Feminist Week, and Allison at The New Gay finds herself angry, mystified and intrigued by the crazy dude in the Speedo:

Why is feminism still a dirty word? Why do people still regard it as a fleeting female term with no historical purpose? . . .

To which I replied in the comments:

If we are in a War of Ideas, it is important to distinguish between ourselves and our ideas. Identity politics, however, convinces some people that an attack on feminism (an idea) is an attack on people (women), just as some people confuse an attack on same-sex marriage (an idea) with an attack on people (gays).
Allison, I believe that I know more about feminism than you know about conservatism, and I certainly believe I know more about conservatism than you do. Either I do know more or I do not. But to assert my own superiority of knowledge is not a personal attack on you. There are many people whom I love and I admire who know less than I do.
What I am trying to say is that there are actual facts in this world. Not everything is a matter of opinion. And the possibility that you might be mistaken as to the facts is something you might want to consider.
Thanks for the link. Like I say, Rule 4: "Hits is hits," and linky-hate is as good as linky-love, when it comes down to increasing blog traffic. That is a fact.
BTW, I'm thinking of an Elvis Costello song:
Oh, it's so funny to be seein' ya after so long, girl,
And with the way you look, I understand
If you are not impressed . . .
My aim is true.

Which is to say, don't worry your pretty little head about it, sweetheart. Now run along and get me a cup of coffee, hon. Cream only.

(And I think somebody wants to hit the tip jar.)

The Cosmo Syndrome

(BUMPED; UPDATED) Dylan Sauders has a brilliant takedown of Cosmopolitan's sex-marketing scam:

The four prompts are 1) Sex headline 2) Smiling face showing approval of sex 3) A desirable bust-line 4) Second sex headline. . . .
These four prompts are enough to make your subconscious feel healthy, attractive and sexual - just like the girl on the cover. Cosmo found that they sold the most magazines by taking advantage of the natural eye pattern your eyes take accross a magazine cover and putting these four prompts in their path.

You should read the whole thing. (H/T: Conservative Grapevine.)

It must be noted that Sauders is a self-made "expert" on seduction, which will cause a lot of female readers to snort in derision. But since this is National Offend A Feminist Week, his article offers a good talking-point to discuss the degree to which "feminism" is an ideology advanced via brainwashing and propaganda methods.

My grievance against Cosmo (and Glamour, etc.) is one of long standing. In 2000, I wrote a Washington Times column about it:

It seems impossible to go through a supermarket checkout line without being confronted by magazine covers like the January 2000 Cosmopolitan, offering "Sex Tricks Only Cosmo Would Know: 20 Earth-Quaking Moves That Will Make Him Plead for Mercy -- and Beg for More."
The Kroger grocery chain has, thankfully, decided to install racks that conceal such lurid stuff from general viewing. Perhaps someday it will be safe again to take our daughters to the grocery store.
What is the point of schools and parents telling girls that they can be valued for their character, their intellectual abilities and their personal achievements, when the newsstands are full of magazines displaying near-naked supermodels and telling girls that their true worth is their ability to master "earth-quaking moves"?
Scarcely had my daughter learned to read than I found myself troubled by what she was seeing on women's magazine covers at the checkout lines. A child with a knowledge of phonics can figure out what "s-e-x" spells and -- according to Cosmo, Glamour and the other major women's magazines -- "s-e-x" and "d-i-e-t" are the most important things in a woman's life. . . .

And you can read the whole thing, if you'd like. Having been excoriated recently for criticizing Carrie Prejean's decision to get breast implants, and having long baffled female readers by my relentless jihad against feminism, this is as good a time as any to point out what should have been obvious: I hate feminism, I hate breast implants, and I hate Cosmo for the same reason -- because I love women and want them to be happy.

You cannot have a happy life built on lies, and Cosmo is selling you lies. People want to give me a hard time because I occasionally blog about boobies, but my readership averages about 6,000 visits a day. If my readers are not all adults, they are at least old enough to operate a computer and care about politics. Whereas Cosmo's leering come-ons are displayed on thousands of magazine racks all over the country and, as Sauder says, they reach a readership of some 39 million women.

Cosmo sells a lie, namely that sex and beauty are the sum of a woman's value. And this evil propaganda is conveyed effectively (that is to say, women accept the lie) because of the perception that this is "woman to woman," that these messages are being related by other women -- and glamorous, sophisticated women, at that.

There is a basic factor of communications psychology called the "halo effect." If someone has certain attributes that you consider positive, you will tend to generalize this into an overall positive perception about that person, often giving them credit for personal qualities like being smart, kind, honest -- attributes for which you have no direct evidence at all.

Parable of the Glen-Plaid Suit
Being physically attractive is one of the most powerful factors in the "halo effect," which is why magazine ads feature attractive models. The positive perception created by the model's good looks is psychologically transferred -- generalized -- to the manufacturer's product. Let me tell you the story about my glen-plaid suit.

Back in the day, after I'd graduated college and was a bachelor on the hunt, I was something of a clothes horse. I had always desired to be a well-dressed man -- to look sharp -- but now I had a little more disposable income to devote to fashion than I'd ever had before.

GQ and Esquire were required monthly reading for me. In the summer of 1986, you might have seen me bopping around Atlanta in robin's-egg blue slacks (triple-pleated, cuffed), a pleated-front pink tuxedo shirt, a robin's-egg blue bowtie, and a sport coat that was striped in pink, robin's-egg blue and white. (I'd bought the coat first, then bought the rest of my ensemble to match.) Buddy, I was styling, and the ladies loved it.

So, one day I saw a fashion layout in GQ featuring a guy in a double-breasted gray glen-plaid suit, wearing a red bow tie. Man, that dude looked sharp. I resolved that on the next payday, I'd get me one of those suits and a red bow tie like that. So I did, and got myself slicked up for a night on the town with my buds. And when I showed up at the club, one of my buddies said: "Look, it's Pee-Wee Herman!"

Indeed, this was exactly the wardrobe that the absurdist comedian Pee-Wee Herman had made his trademark. But I hadn't been thinking about that. I had been looking at that ruggedly handsome model in the magazine -- briefcase in hand, standing with Manhattan skyscrapers in the background, the very epitome of a smart young businessman. But I was not a ruggedly handsome model and this was not Manhattan.

The money I'd spent on that suit had been spent in an attempt to purchase the perception conveyed by the magazine display. I wanted to feel like a smart young businessman. I wanted to look ruggedly handsome. But this suit did not magically transform me. I was still the same goofy guy I'd been before I bought the suit, and even goofier for inadvertantly dressing like Pee-Wee Herman.

Well, the money wasn't entirely wasted. I seldom wore that suit again, but I'd learned a valuable lesson.

Marketing and Manipulation
One of the fundamentals of marketing psychology is the concept of how role models affect our perceptions. Because of the "halo effect," we have positive reactions to attractive people, but we have the strongest positive reactions to attractive people who resemble us in some way. Such people can be said to represent our idealized perception of ourselves.

Thus, the smiling woman on the Cosmo cover represents an ideal -- she is what women want to be, the aspirational self. And Cosmo uses this aspirational self to tell women that diet, fashion and sex -- sex! sex! sex! -- are the secrets of happiness. Oh, one other secret: Buying the products advertised in Cosmo.

William F. Buckley Jr. said that the hallmark of successful indoctrination is that the subject doesn't realize he's been indoctrinated. In fact, if you try to tell him he has been indoctrinated, if you point out the means and methods of his indoctrination, and cite evidence of the fallacious nature of his ideas, the indoctrinee will become angry. He will not only defend the indoctrinated beliefs as self-evidently true, but he will vehemently insist that he arrived at these beliefs by independent thought.

So it is with the 20-something "Cosmo girl," who has been reading these trashy magazines every month since she was in middle school. She has a closet full of clothes and 42 pairs of shoes. She has enough cosmetics to equip the road company of Les Miserables for their North American tour. She has mastered every one of the "99 Sure-Fire Sex Secrets" and has been through two dozen boyfriends.

And she is desperately unhappy.

By the time the "Cosmo girl" has been consuming this propaganda for a good 10 years, complete de-indoctrination is almost impossible. She has internalized the belief system so deeply that it has become part of her identity. She will interpret criticism of her Cosmo beliefs as a personal attack. To question whether her mastery of "Earth-Quaking Moves" is beneficial or necessary is to criticize who she is.

Debunking the sexual mythology of Cosmo is as simple as getting a guy to talk honestly about women. Back in the day when I was sporting around in my pink-and-blue sport coat, a stylin' babe-magnet with the cool Patrick Swayze mullet and the lean, tanned Speedo-worthy physique, I was scarcely an exemplar of the Christian ideal of chastity. Or any other Christian ideal, for that matter. (Hey, I was also a Democrat back then.)

What Matters?
Let us ask this question, then: When a young man is out there on the hunt, looking to "score," how does he evaluate his conquests? That is to say, what is it about the chick he picks up that makes him want to brag about it the next day, and perhaps call the chick for another date?

Two things: Looks and enthusiasm.

The first factor is obvious enough. Among his various conquests, the fellow who rides the romantic rodeo circuit will tend to have the most favorable opinion of the drop-dead beauty with the bitchin' bod. That's just how guys are. But the stuff that Cosmo is selling -- the clothes, the shoes, the jewelry, the cosmetics -- has very little impact on this evaluation. Ask any guy.

A really sexy girl is sexy even when she's in sweats and an oversized T-shirt, shopping for groceries. And women's near-universal embrace of the cosmetics/fashion industry is kind of like escalation in the Cold War arms race: At some point, everybody's got enough nukes to destroy the entire planet, and the argument for additional nukes is attenuated by the problem of diminishing returns. If every girl's made-up like a fashion model, a little extra skill in applying make-up isn't really going to gain you any advantage.

Somewhere in Pennsylvania today, there is at least one beautiful 19-year-old Amish girl who has never worn make-up, never worked out in a gym, never read Cosmo. And that girl, in her homemade plain dress, is more truly beautiful than any of the styled-up, decked-out hotties hanging around the most fashionable nightspot in Hollywood. Like I said, ask any guy.

So much for looks. Ceteris paribus, the better-looking girl is the more desireable pickup, the one the guy will brag about and ask for a second date. However, what about the sex itself? It may be -- consider this a hypothetical, if you wish -- that a young man on the prowl will score with lots of good-looking girls over the course of his prowling. Insofar as the performance of the sex act itself makes any difference in his evaluation of his conquests, what is the key factor?

Enthusiasm. The guy likes the girl who is not only "into" sex, but is evidently and unabashedly "into" him. She's kissing him passionately, can't keep her hands off him, she's saying his name and telling him how crazy she is about him and -- Oh yes! Oh yes! Oh yes! Yes! YES!

And here, ladies, is exposed the cruel lie of all those "sex secrets" they push in Cosmo. They want you to believe that a guy will evaluate you, sexually, based on your mastery of specific sexual techniques.

Think about this for a minute, ladies. However limited or extensive your sexual experience with men, ask yourself: Is a guy's workmanlike mastery of sexual technique really what turns you on?

Of course not. If a guy is really "into" you -- that is to say, if he has the necessary sexual enthusiasm -- he'll eventually figure out what you like. That eager-to-please attitude where you are so crazy about your partner that you're actually asking them what they like, and doing it exactly the way they like it -- it's that fundamental enthusiasm, you see, that makes all the difference in the world. Ask any woman.

But don't let the ladies kid you, guys. Being tall, handsome, muscular and wealthy kind of helps, too. The Pee-Wee Herman suit has nothing to do with it.

The Myth of 'Sex Ed'
What this all means is that, even if a woman's desire is to "spread it around" and be that chick that guys pick up in bars, Cosmo doesn't tell her anything useful. Reading "sex secrets" in Cosmo is not going to make you more erotically attractive, or make your sexual performance more memorable. The idea of sexual "success" as being a function of technical expertise is a myth and a lie.

This relates to my disagreement with the proponents of "sex education." It is a remarkable thing that mankind has, through sexual reproduction, flourished to the tune of 6 billion people on the planet and yet "sex education" wasn't invented until the 20th century. If you buy into the sex-ed mentality, this means that for at least 92% of recorded human history, people had no clue what they were doing.

Furthermore, the sex-ed proponents would have us believe, unless sex is taught to children in classrooms -- in a government school by a government-certified teacher using government-approved curricula -- there is no possibility that kids will ever learn the basics of sex.

That these assertions of the sex-ed enthusiasts are self-evidently untrue. Sex is not rocket science or brain surgery, and untutored human beings have throughout history figured out the basic "Insert Tab A into Slot B" of sexuality without textbooks or classroom instruction. Three random thoughts:

• Given the alarming failure of the government education system to teach math and reading, what kind of fool would trust a public-school teacher to instruct his children about sex? (Hello, Mary Kay LeTourneau!)
• In the information age, surely mere facts and data about sex is not hard to find. But the religion of Educationism is based on the false belief that no one can learn anything without going to school to learn it. (Fact: Jimi Hendrix never took a single guitar lesson.)
• What is the real value of knowing the Latin names of the genitalia? Never let it be said that public schools no longer teach Latin -- every sixth-grader in America is now required to memorize such terms as labia, clitoris, urethra and vas deferens, and to identify these items correctly on an anatomical chart.

Such are the transparent fallacies of this perverse ideology. There are 501(c) non-profit foundations dedicated specifically to the purpose of promoting sex-education in public schools, without anyone ever questioning the false premises involved in their "philanthropic" mission.

Insightful readers immediately recognize the connection between sex-ed in schools and Cosmo on the magazine stand. Not only are they are both promoting the same ideology, but perhaps more importantly, they are promoting the same attitude. This attitude -- of sex as a matter of technique to be studied and mastered, in which a superiority of knowledge and skill is the ultimate objective -- is central to the sexual worldview into which the elite desire to indoctrinate the masses. And it is a monstrous lie.

Whether in gushy Cosmo "sex secrets" features or in the Educationist terminology of a middle-school sex-ed textbook, this attitude toward sex presumes that all sexual problems are the result of a lack of information. If you're not getting off, or if your partner is not getting off, or if you're both getting off but neither one of you is really happy, then what you need is more data.

My goodness, what did people do in the Dark Ages, before every middle-school child was required to study anatomical cross-section diagrams of the pelvis, learning to identify (by the proper medical terms) the prostate gland and the uterus? Pity poor Romeo and Juliet, who knew not the joy of the anatomical cross-section!

American young people today have more sexual information than at least 90 percent of the human beings who ever lived. Yet out-of-wedlock births, abortions, sexually-transmitted diseases and divorce are more rampant than ever. Somehow studying those cross-section charts, memorizing the Latin names of the genitalia and practicing how to put a condom on a banana have not prevented the skyrocketing levels of romantic misery.

We don't suffer from lack of information. Instead, we suffer from a lack of virtue.

Good luck trying to locate "virtue" on the anatomical charts. God knows you won't find it in Cosmo.

* * * * *

Well, I've been working on this for few hours and have reached a stopping point, but not the end point I had in mind when I started writing. If you'd like me to finish out this essay, just leave a comment, sharing your thoughts and requesting more, and I'll come back and write more. But first, I need a nap. Ah, the joys of blogging. (Please hit the tip jar!)

And to Cassandra, in the famous words of Ulysses S. Grant: "I intend to fight it out on this line if it takes all summer."

* * * * *

The comments -- and correction, thank you -- are piling up, leading to the conclusion that I must lead on to the conclusion of the matter. Thanks to the commenter who pointed out that when, in May 1864, Grant vowed to "fight it out . . . if it takes all summer," he actually ended up fighting nearly another 11 months. And, in fact, he did not continue fighting on the same line, but maneuvered to his left in the famous campaign that brought him finally to besiege Lee's army at Petersburg.

Yet it was his dogged determination, his unrelenting commitment to take the fight to the foe, that made Grant victorious. "I cannot spare this man. He fights," Lincoln said and, while I am not in the habit of quoting Lincoln to make a point, in this he was entirely right.

Having had (not much of) a nap, I now remind you that we began this examination of The Cosmo Syndrome with a mention that it is National Offend A Feminist Week. I have found myself recently chastised for (a) criticizing Carrie Prejean for having breast implants, and (b) employing the words "slut" and "whore." Ah, nothing gets 'em like plain English, eh? Well, then -- forward!

* * * * *

Virtue, Vice and 'Civility'
Virtue shiould always be praised, never derogated or dimissed as irrelevant. Virtue may be its own reward, but the natural human desire for esteem in society provides an incentive toward virtuous behavior, at least insofar as society esteems virtue.

When we praise the courage of heroes -- the firefighters who went into the inferno of the WTC on 9/11, for example -- we thus incite others to emulate such brave men, in the expectation that they might also merit praise. If we praise diligence and honesty, we likewise encourage people to be diligent and honest. Whatever society esteems, whatever is commonly praised and celebrated, it enshrines as a goal that attracts the eyes of the young and ambitious.

By the same principle, vice should always be condemned. Deceit, sloth, cowardice -- if such traits and behaviors do not elicit scorn from society, if we tolerate and refuse to be "judgmental" about vice, then we may expect vice to flourish. Think about the "gangsta" rap culture, with its celebration of violent drug dealers and pimps, its lyrics boasting of drive-by shootings and rape, its costumes of garish "bling" -- Bill Cosby is surely right that this perverse phenomenon has badly damaged the black community.

"Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil . . ."
-- Isaiah 5:20, KJV

To celebrate vice, to mock virtue -- these are cursed behaviors. And thus we must recall our discussion of Jessica Valenti, the feminist whose book is called The Purity Myth: How America's Obsession with Virginity Is Hurting Young Women.

Is chastity not a virtue? Premarital chastity is the dress rehearsal for the main performance that is marital fidelity. It is a natural presumption (though one seldom voiced in our increasingly unnatural society) that the ability to restrain one's passions in youth -- to resist temptation -- would be a reliable predictor of the ability to be faithful in maturity. We might further reflect that habit is a great force in human behavior and that the habit of adventurously sleeping around, acquired early in life, would later make it difficult to adjust to the monogamous routine of marriage.

These are not merely philosophical speculations, but sociological fact that can be teased out of the available data if one is statistically minded. However, I need neither statistics or philosophy to know the truth, because I am a fool.

"Experience is a hard school, but a fool will learn in no other."
-- Benjamin Franklin

Yesterday, in mock-Victorian mode, I declared that "years of youthful association with companions of low character have irretrievably corrupted me, rendering me permanently unfit for polite society." You see, I had been condemned for demonstrating a lack of "civility" in my description of Valenti's philosophy:

A perverse non-judgmentalism, that refuses to praise virtue or condemn vice, is moral nihilism. Valenti goes beyond this, to celebrate whoredom and condemn chastity.

If that was uncivil, what would they say if I started telling tales of my own experiences, about the things a young rebel does, and the things he sees, when he's riding on that Highway to Hell? And if, by grace, I somehow managed to survive the ride, is it not my obligation to the memories of those who died on that road, to warn others against taking that wrong turn? If I see others making the same mistakes I made, or the mistakes that led others to an early grave, shouldn't I tell them to turn back before it's too late?

What a strange conception of "civility," that would rob civilization of its natural defense, the social disapproval that is rightly heaped upon the coward, the liar, the sluggard, the whore. In the name of "civility," we are supposed to allow Jessica Valenti to argue that chastity is a "myth" without fear of rebuke, lest we damage the fragile self-esteem of tramps, floozies and strumpets!
Next thing you know, your daughter will encounter some clever user -- perhaps a practiced player of Dylan Sauders' "game" -- who'll spring "the Cosmo routine" on her, and you may be sure that the upshot of this experience won't be an increase in her self-esteem. Do you really think that Valenti and Sauders and the editors of Cosmo, who preach a religion of unabashed promiscuity, deserve to be protected by the cloak of "civility"?

Cosmo is read by 39 million women and Valenti promotes her book on the "Today" show, but somehow my right-wing "incivility" is the real menace? Come now, Cassandra -- whatever my faults and failures, I think you're taking aim at the wrong target.

It's National Offend A Feminist Week, you see, and the ridiculous insistence that no man should be permitted to call a slut a slut is a byproduct of feminist ideology. It's all about The Sisterhood, an Us-vs.-Them mentality in which even conservative women are supposed to align themselves in sheltering Jessica Valenti from the thorough condemnation she deserves.

Remember what Buckley said about successful indoctrination? Conservatives who instinctively invoke feminist concepts -- e.g., non-judgmentalism toward promiscuity -- might want to contemplate Buckley's observation in silence, and stop superficially criticizing those of us who have already spent many years examining the ideological infrastructure of the Left. Just because you don't know what I'm doing doesn't mean that I don't know what I'm doing.

And if anybody wants to hit the tip jar, now would be a good time to do it. Being "openly shameless" can be a tough row to hoe.

No pun intended.