But what about all the other Christmas tunes that invade our mental safe spaces and offend our delicate sensibilities?
“Nobody cares about that anymore.”
“Yeah, it feels like sexual harassment. Imagine how you’d feel if someone was saying that to you.”
“It exposes children to the concept of death. Think about how traumatizing it was when Mr. Hooper died on ‘Sesame Street’. Or ‘Puff the Magic Dragon’, which isn’t about death, but you think it is.”
I thought it was about drugs.”
“No. They’re special snowflakes, but they don’t get a trigger warning.”
Huffington Post senior political reporter and politics managing editor Amanda Terkel today tweeted about a disturbing conversation she had with a professor at the Medill School of Journalism at Northwestern University.
Ms. Terkel has not, thus far, named the professor. There are many calls for her to do so and I echo them.
However, should she choose not to, as is her right, I suggest we create a bracket of all the male professors at Medill (and for good measure, probably white and of a certain age) and let students and alumni vote to narrow down the candidates.
(Grammarly wants me to replace the period at the end of the previous sentence with a question mark. No, Grammarly, that is not a question, it’s a declarative statement. Adding a question mark would make it upspeaking. Clearly, you have a sexist algorithm that wants to force me, a woman, into upspeaking).
Obviously, said bracket would group all men (again, presumably white and of a certain age) under the collective umbrella of rude, sexist, unenlightened, unaware of privilege, etc. etc. so on and so forth.
But we’re all cool with that, right?
(just gonna assume you’re all doing this. don’t know who that blonde is, but she can take off).
My first instinct was to tweet this idea, but I figured some people just wouldn’t appreciate a good* sexist white man joke/feminist barb**.
So I decided to blog it instead.
* The definition of good being subjective
** Is it a feminist barb or a barb at feminism?
Pretty sure this is a more a statement about your taste in romantic partners than it is one about the greatness of your dog. And more likely a statement on you as a romantic partner. To be fair, all of your former partners probably thought your dog was the best part of the deal as well.
I don’t get these dog people. Not dog-people as in half person, half dog, people who think their dogs are EVERYTHING. Like, the greatest thing since that machine that slices an entire loaf of bread AT ONCE.
And don’t say “unconditional love.” Unconditional love doesn’t gouge your furniture and sniff your crotch without permission. When men do that, we call it sexual harassment.
Also, I can’t decide if a dog-person would be cool or SCARY AS ALL GET OUT.
I have made the decision to change my background color to pink because I think being offended by pink is bullshit.
I like pink. It’s pretty. I like pretty things, damn it. And that does not make me any less intelligent, strong, fierce, worthy, etc. etc. than any other man, woman, other or undecided. There are plenty of reasons why I am less than any of the aforementioned, but my appreciation of pink is one of them.
Seriously, does anyone else, ladies especially, feel like you’re waging some rebellion against hyperactive feminism by liking pink. Or buying things that are pink?
I get it. Shit is gendered. It’s bad. Listen, I liked blocks and sports and tree climbing as a kid. I was often more comfortable hanging with the boys than with the girls. BUT NO ONE IS TELLING MEN TO CAST OUT BLUE! I don’t need to demonstrate my feminism or my lady strength* by eschewing pink.
Listen, if you don’t like pink, god bless you. That’s your right. I’m not a particular fan of beige. But not liking it because it’s associated with girls is just dumb.
*”lady strength” sounds a little like it’s related to ping pong balls.**It isn’t.
**If you don’t get the reference to ping pong balls, I can’t help you.
Remember yelling that during “Rocky Horror”? Apparently, Riffgenta is about to be A-OK.
“Genetic sexual attraction.” Basically, having a romantic attraction to someone to whom you’re genetically related but haven’t had a familial relationship. Or something. I don’t really know. But apparently this is something “normal”.
As a liberal, progressive, educated woman, I should be accepting. Understanding. And to that, let me say this: