BlogWonks

[Fellows, I’m hard at work on a book about women. I thought you guys might like this subsection as an MND post concerning this ridiculous radical feminist toxic sludge.]

Susan Jane Gilman, the author of Kiss My Tiara: How to Rule the World as a Smart Mouth Goddess, manages to accomplish two very unique things in these 23 chapters. First, her insight about how women should live their lives is an unintentional best practice guide for how to “lose friends and alienate people.” Second, the recommendations made are so glaringly unsubstantiated by fact that they border on being sinister so it will ensure readers of martyrdom as the only place it will lead them is into the abyss.

The book is actually radical feminist theory thinly disguised as self-help. Gilman is a committed activist who once taught poetry and women’s studies at Georgetown as well as publishing in Ms. Magazine (NOW’s pop outlet). As one would expect, rather than help women, the author disseminates propaganda instead. She bashes Republicans repeatedly, warns women not to sleep with them, and states that voting for them is a synonym for masturbation. Of course, we know that thirty-some percent of the population is not evil and that there’s nothing wrong with desiring government to be limited in size, but, to a fascist, this is the stuff of fascism—at least they have to pretend that it is.

As far as her recommendations go, they do anything but enlighten. Gilman shares analysis that is so ignorant it is a wonder that a major operation like Warner Books would see it printed. It seems that women in America today have been empowered to say just about anything they want to regardless of how foolish it may be. Honestly, most of the guys I worked with at Long John Silvers in high school possessed superior understanding of the birds and the bees than does this Brown and Michigan graduate. Speaking of my old job, Gilman recounts a story, as a means to corroborate the need for affirmative action, of a freshman class[i] she taught wherein 98 percent[ii] of its members got their jobs due to connections rather than merit. This is completely ridiculous. You don’t need connections to get a job when you’re in high school. You merely need documentation that you’re not a drop out. For me, my first four high powered jobs were at LJS, A&P, Arbor Drugs, and DialAmerica. I did not obtain them as a result of who I knew or my skin color. I was hired after walking in and applying. I didn’t need an “in.” It was much the same for everyone I know. In fact, the old fish-a-torium gave practically every applicant—regardless of sex or race—a chance as long as they showed up on time and didn’t steal. We can be sure though that radical feminists got their jobs due to conspiratorial connections because nobody else in their right mind would hire them.

In terms of relationships, one would be hard-pressed to dream up more counter-productive advice than Gilman’s. Rather comically, she admits to not really understanding men at all[iii] which makes the rest of the work all-the-more tragic. Gilman claims that women really don’t have to worry about being beautiful because it is not very important to men. Who knew? Furthermore, it seems that what we really want are girls we can feel comfortable with who allow us to pass gas around them.[iv] We also aren’t concerned about a woman’s age which glaringly clashes with the whole of human experience. Did you happen to know that “women who eat are sexier”?[v] I didn’t either, but Gilman jumps to the conclusion due to our not liking anorexics. Well, no logical leaps there. In the final analysis, women just shouldn’t worry about male opinion because “men will f*** anything.” Is this true? Nope. That doesn’t matter though because stereotyping and lying are perfectly justified when one’s goal is to make women feel good about themselves. Gilman also confuses the word nymphomaniac as being applicable to both men and women, but this could simply be due to the writing programs at Brown and Michigan being above such distinctions.

How should a woman get ahead in life? Interpersonally, they’d be wise to “Really b*tch,”[vi] and refuse to calm down once they become angered. It seems that virtue and niceness are overrated[vii] while “PMS is a Power Tool.”[viii] There really is a great deal here that is unintentionally hilarious. This self-proclaimed queen informs us, without a hint of irony, of a man’s proposal to her consisting of: “‘I can support you while you write your feminist discourse.’”[ix] Is she appalled by her suitor’s patriarchal attitude? Did she scream, “Never! I’ll work until I’m dead!” Hardly, she’s hot for the deal because a chump is a chump, but what queered it was that the fellow hadn’t known her for long enough. On aggregate, the book isn’t as offensive as it is pathetic. Its narration is a testament to the type of ignoramuses produced by today’s politicized universities. Everything your eyes and ears document as reality is wrong because theory and dogma offer up a more soothing and empowering interpretation.