Just… wow:

So I don’t understand why more women don’t relax, enjoy the innate abilities most of us possess (as well as the ones fewer of us possess) and revel in the things most important to life at which nearly all of us excel: tenderness toward children and men and the weak and the ability to make a house a home…Then we could shriek and swoon and gossip and read chick lit to our hearts’ content and not mind the fact that way down deep, we are… kind of dim.

a) Where did they find this moron? b) Is having the most-emailed article on the web for a few days worth debasing your publication over?

LATE UPDATE: From the Corner, bizarreness:

I had to do a screen capture because the post itself was visually arresting. Seriously, is the following worth celebrating?

I am perfectly willing to admit that I myself am a classic case of female mental deficiencies. I can’t add 2 and 2 (well, I can, but then what?). I don’t even know how many pairs of shoes I own.

Maybe the women most vehemently shitting on the feminist cause are the dumbest ones, and they do so out of some frustration or sense of inadequacy?

A friend sent along this amusing question/answer session with Martin Amis, a writer whom I admire but whose novels I don’t much care for.

*Whats the worst thing that’s ever happened to you? NESA GARDEZI, by email*

One day I returned home from a book tour in the US, and I noticed that the leading edge of the toilet roll in the bathroom wasn’t folded into an inviting V - as it was in all those American hotels.

Not only that. I then had a tedious five minutes issuing instructions about the new arrangement to my wife.

Delightful. Two questions later, he’s proclaiming himself a “gynocrat”, which is presumably more feminist than most feminists. Lovable prickly bastard, I’ll always cite his essay on pornography as one of my favorites, even if it descends into treacle for a brief moment. His memoir of growing up a writer under Kingsley’s shadow are a good read as well.

The head of New York’s chapter of NOW becomes unhinged at Ted Kennedy for supporting Obama:

This latest move by Kennedy, is so telling about the status of and respect for women’s rights, women’s voices, women’s equality, women’s authority and our ability – indeed, our obligation - to promote and earn and deserve and elect, unabashedly, a President that is the first woman after centuries of men who ‘know what’s best for us.’

This is embarrassing, juvenile stuff. Sullivan notes that she’s gone off the deep end before. Why does an organization keep such a person around? Surely they can see that she’s doing more damage than she’s worth!

It might be that I’m still sick today (and have been for almost a week now), but I found Maureen Dowd’s column today to be wonderfully savage. The object of her derision is no surprise: Hillary.

Another reporter joked: “That crying really seemed genuine. I’ll bet she spent hours thinking about it beforehand.” He added dryly: “Crying doesn’t usually work in campaigns. Only in relationships.”

…

She became emotional because she feared that she had reached her political midnight, when she would suddenly revert to the school girl with geeky glasses and frizzy hair, smart but not the favorite. All those years in the shadow of one Natural, only to face the prospect of being eclipsed by another Natural?

Yeah, I have no love for Clinton either. But another detail in the piece did make me prick up my ears:

When Hillary hecklers yelled “Iron my shirt!” at her in Salem on Monday, it stirred sisterhood.

Not just sisterhood—that kind of shit gets even my cynical back up. Can you imagine hecklers at an Obama rally yelling “pick my cotton!” at him while he tries to speak? The truth of the matter is that nasty public sexism like that is tolerated whereas public displays of racism, at least at an Obama rally, would probably get the perpetrators properly beat up.

Though I’m not making an argument for electing Clinton based on her gender, I certainly can see more clearly why she might have seen an uptick in support in the last moments of the New Hampshire race.

Hitchens is in his obituary best. Apparently, Tough Guys Don’t Dance is a bad novel. That sounds about right.

I do want to look up this 12 page “heroic struggle to bring a stubborn woman to orgasm.” Nice bedtime read. If it’s online somewhere, I’ll link to it here.

EDIT: Here’s one description:

What is one to make, for instance, of the shocking story ”The Time of Her Time”? It recounts a sexual encounter between the narrator (Mailer in the guise of an Irishman named Sergius O’Shaugnessy) and Denise Gondelman, a middle-class ”Jewish girl” in her third year at New York University. Denise, though sexually experienced, has never reached orgasm, never lost her ”final virginity.” It takes three sexual encounters, an act of sodomy and a touch of Jewish self-hatred (Denise’s and perhaps Mailer’s as well) before she finally arrives at ”her time.”

Sounds promising.

EDIT 2: It gets better and better:

He constructed absurd melodramas of sexual conquest and then cast himself as their inevitable hero. His ubiquitous descriptions of sex are wince-makingly embarrassing. In “The Time of Her Time,” for example—a fictional sketch that concludes *Advertisements for Myself* and of which Mailer was particularly proud—the hero refers to his penis as “the avenger” and is taken to saying things like “For her, getting it from me, it must have been impressive.”

Off I go to Borders. This stuff is comedy gold.

Via Feministing (via Yglesias): A 77 year old German sues a 19 year old for not putting out after having been wined and dined. She said he was too old for her.

“That was shattering. No woman has ever said that to me before,” Eden told the tabloid. “I was crushed.” He has filed charges with the prosecutors’ office, he said. “After all, there are laws against discrimination.”

Funny stuff. You’d think anyone would be able to enjoy in this lovely little bit of absurdity. But you’d be wrong. Feministing comments:

This guy sounds just awful. He once wrote, “I would like to die as I have lived — on a woman.”

Double-ha!

I’m for women having equal rights and being treated respectfully (while preserving my rights to use the c-word in fits of pique) as much as the next socially liberal guy. But seriously, my feminist friends, you don’t find this character at all funny? Not witty, not brilliant. Yes, in poor taste. But come on! Just look at him! This geezer’s pure gold!