Timid Feminism = Timidism

While there is much in the news to discuss, much of it inter-connected; and I have certainly spent the better part of the week collecting news articles, videos and links in preparation for a post addressing said issues, instead of spending time and energy fanning the “blame Islam flames,” I’m much more strongly compelled to lash out against what I see as the undue timidity of so-called feminist women in the face of coordinated attack, especially when confronted with forces lead by other women.

Lord knows I am not alone in my outrage about the all-too-predictable capitulation to the Right by our Mighty Morphin’ Majority Democrats for no Earthly apparent reason.  Women everywhere are bitchin’ and  moanin’ about the seemingly calculated attempts at the  Stepfordization of American females.  While I see this as the inevitable result of the efforts of that faction of the country’s politics now being fronted by the insidious Bachmann Palin Overdrive, the eager surrender of females on the Left, either because of faith in the illusion of the myth of political expediency, or due to belief in fantasies of sisterhood, unattainable even in legend and fairy tale, as being necessary for success, the end result is the same; when women buy into the “helpless second, weaker, yet, inherently evil sex” patriarchal theory as their self-identity starting position, women lose.

Leaders lead.  They stake a position, articulate it, and invite others to join.  Whether anybody takes them up on their offer or not, they proceed according to their plan.  You cannot lead by consensus, or by whining about who doesn’t see things your way, thereby blaming them for your condition.   Constantly complaining about other women who don’t support your vision, and how much you wish they would for everybody’s sake, is a masochistically masturbatory waste of time.  If only “she” would think like “me,” “we” could do x, y, z, is a crackhead’s pipe dream.  To take it a step further and fantasize that Utopian Nirvana can only be reached by aligning oneself with “her” anyway, regardless of the width of the gulf between your points of view, simply on the strength of shared anatomical features, is a crackhead’s delirium.

Democrats’ Stale Lunch

There’s a saying that any Grand Jury in the country worth its salt could indict a ham sandwich.  The theory is that grand juries are tools of the District Attorney, designed to do his/her bidding and rubber stamp whatever they want, just for formality’s sake.  Whether that is true or not, that’s the perception.  In the 2008 pretendidential election, Barack Obama benefited from a similar perception; that the Democratic party could have elected a ham sandwich.

And, they did.

Unquestionably, Obie is now the Democrats’ stale lunch, stinking up the whole place after smoldering in their lunchbox for a whole year, not counting the previous months they spent rejecting the obviously more nutritious meat and potatoes in front of them in favor of the McHam Sandwich they gleefully and greedily invented with intent to market.  Now that they’re being forced by Fate-as-a-cruel-parent to eat the spoiled porky lunch they had a fit to have, they’re smacking their own fool foreheads, crying and whining and moaning and dreaming about the V-8 they coulda had, and how they coulda been contend-uhs, like a bunch of washed-up, three-year old Marlon Brandos reduced to reprising his glory days in a cheesy vegetable juice commercial.  No better for ‘em; they did it to themselves.

Sadly, the bigger problem is they did it to the rest of us, too, with the majority of their party members playing rubber-stamp grand jury to their D.A.  Even sadder is that the way they did it was so fucking obvious and simple.

First, play up on the “any Democrat beats Bush” inevitability thing, then, establish Hillary Clinton as the inevitable Democrat, before exploiting the already publicly accepted right-wing meme of Hillary as Dragon Lady.  Rile up the country’s latent misogyny and present your guy as not only “not her,” but, a guy to boot.   Throw in a little, “I’m black, so voting for me will make you feel good,” and Bob’s your uncle.  Voila!  You’ve just nominated a ham sandwich, and set him up to win big.

It was really that simple.

Starring Barry O As Mr. Lucky

To hear the media tell it, Barack Obama is the luckiest guy in the world.  Of course, they never come out and say that; no, they use words like “compelling” and “destined,” to describe the improbable rise of a guy who seems to have not much but skin tone and personality going for him.  Obviously, for a large segment of those lonely individuals around the country and the world, otherwise destined to the isolation of today’s solitary online…life, that is more than enough.

Consequently, today marks the day before the Most Historic of Historic Days when legions of normally Negro-averse people, male and female, inspired by a common Mandingo love fantasy fever of acceptable blackness, along with their formerly scary brethren and sistren of color, hoisted the object of their inexplicable affection upon their collective metaphorical shoulders and propelled him forward with a mighty thrust to the near-pinnacle (the Nobel Peace, Brother Prize being the top) of his destination to Plantation Overseer, the Presidency of the United States.  The occasion is being duly marked with the release of HBO’s documentary, By The People, an inside look at the meteoric rise of Barack Obama for no apparent reason.  Talk about failing upwards.

Now, if said documentary were but a Spinal Tap-esque, “what if?” spoof, it would hold far more interest and potentially intrinsic value.  However, after reading more articles and reviews about the thing I have no intention of watching without anesthesia, than any human being not also being waterboarded for war crimes in conjunction should ever have to endure, I’m convinced that the parties involved are all deadly serious about their Holy Mission.  I’m also left to scratch my head in puzzlement as to what it is about this guy, what has he done, who did he fuck to inspire such irrational devotion, and is there You Tube-ready film available I can post online since I’m sure most of us would like to study such awe-inspiring technique so that we, too, might exploit it similarly to our benefit.  I mean, according to published reports that usually hail his mighty mind, he seems not to actually know dick about shit, and, according to most Americans, many of whom probably wouldn’t vote for him again, ain’t got a clue about a plan to fix nothin’:

The survey suggests that the president’s approval rating remains over 50 percent even though most Americans disapprove of how Obama is handling the economy, health care, Afghanistan, Iraq, unemployment, illegal immigration and the federal budget deficit.

And yet…through some quirk of fate, wave after wave of wealthy, influential movers and shakers just happen to cross his path, bearing alms, pledging to drink his bathwater in return for possession of his dirty drawers, and have done so since the beginning of his political career.  What up wit’ dat, huh?