Tag Archives: feminism

Rapping the hijab

ONE OF THE most ignorant things you hear on the left is that one should embrace Mohammedanism.

Everyone who gives the abominable Mohammedan culture a pass is either a supporter of the PC Party (i.e. Democrats) or some nincompoopery even further to the left.

The never-subtle — but usually correct — Paul Joseph Watson states things clearly in this video.

Muslim beach bunny

Somewhere beyond absurd.

SCARCELY A DAY passes in which I fail to see a cringe-worthy photograph depicting the abysmal condition of women in the Mohammedan world.

This one, however, contains an extra poignancy.

When I saw the photo, my first reaction was that it must be a beached whale in Zihuatanejo. But it’s not.

It’s a Mohammedan woman or girl. Who can know her age, appearance, anything about her?

The poor creature is trying to enjoy a day at the beach.

The sheeting of women is not in the Koran. It’s a tradition begun later by sand-leaping, scimitar-swinging, bloodletting, towel-headed, camel jockeys who just want to keep their womenfolk to themselves, in their place.

Simple as that. Possessions of the highest order.

It’s no surprise that where actual slavery still exists in today’s world, it’s often in Mohammedan zones.

Mohammedan men’s attitude toward women make the most macho of swaggering, tequila-swilling Mexicans seem tailor-made for banner-wavers in a Gay Pride Parade.

* * * *

IRONY AND HYPOCRISY

And yet in the United States, dimwitted university students and nincompoop faculty stand ready to support Mohammedan cultures while mouthing anti-Semitism that would make Heinrich Himmler puff up with pride.

And 99 percent of them vote for the Democrat Party.

These are the same vacuous people who advocate freedom of choice and claim all cultures are of equal value.

Anyone who truly believes in women’s rights, freedom of choice and equality has to be a cheerleader for Israel, the sole Mideast nation that embraces democracy and religious freedom.

And then there’s the U.S. presidential race with a cackling crook in designer tents facing an arrogant tycoon* with a comb-over who can’t keep his hoof out of his mouth.

I weep for the future.

* * * *

* No matter. I’m still voting for the arrogant tycoon over the cackling crook. Ugly choices must be made. Meanwhile, I continue to mourn for Ted Cruz’s candidacy.

Leave balls at border

WE’RE DRIVING to San Miguel de Allende this week for a couple of days. The primary purpose of visiting that Gringo-infested outpost is to renew my expired U.S. passport.

Now sure exactly why I’m bothering to do this, especially since it’s going to set me back over $100, money I could more profitably use to keep myself in tacos for many years.

We do little (next to none) international travel, and my Mexican passport will serve for anywhere except the United States, a place that is not hollering my name anymore.

That nation is on a downward trajectory, something that grows more painfully obvious by the day. Pathetic and ignorant people are now running the American farm.

The U.S. Marine Corps has been forced to remove the word “man” from 19 job titles. I can easily see this happening on university campuses, but the Marines?!

New ImageI predict that soon the Marine Corps will consist of troops who look like Pajama Boy and this smug news lesbian.

Just below is a brief discussion about the issue of feminism by the wonderful Christina Hoff Sommers and the always interesting Camille Paglia.

Meanwhile, the neutering of a once-great nation marches on, and nobody seems to be able to apply the brakes.

The Russians and/or Chinese will do it in time.

Or maybe the Mohammedans.

Rise for the judge

TWO “RAPE” CASES have gotten lots of buzz above the Rio Bravo.  Here’s how Judge Zapata would have ruled:

(1) At a Stanford University frat party, a young woman, 23, got herself plastered, passed out, and a horny boy, 19, had his way with her behind a dumpster. How romantic.

She reportedly was unconscious during the encounter, a vital point to remember as we move along.

New ImageA judge gave the frat boy a six-month sentence, which has hordes of people up in arms. A petition for his recall has many thousands of signatures.

The boy is the primary guilty party, of course. The girl is the secondary guilty party, in spite of feminist blather that the “victim” never shares any fault at all.

In this case, she does, big-time.

If she hadn’t drunk to excess — her choice — and passed out at a frat party surrounded by boozed-up, hormone-charged adolescents and young men, she would not have had her skirt lifted. Where was her brain?

Since she was unconscious during the booze-fueled event, she was not traumatized in spite of a long, weepy letter she sent to the judge after sobering up and hoping to excuse herself.

And she wasn’t a virgin. No university coed of 23 is these days with the possible exception of Brigham Young University students, certainly not at Stanford.

Had I been the judge, my sentence would be this:

For the horny frat boy: 40 days of community service.

For the very stupid girl: 30 days of community service.

I wouldn’t have been recalled. I would have been tarred, feathered, and run out of town on a burro’s backside.

Such are the silly times in which we live.

* * * *

(2) A woman schoolteacher — I forget where — was arrested and charged after it came to light that she had an ongoing sexual relationship with a male student, aged 13. She faces some very serious hard time in prison. Decades.

This is arrant nonsense.

A grown man taking advantage of girl of 13 is one thing, but it’s different when the roles are reversed. In spite of current cultural fads, males and females are very different.

The boy of 13 was not abused. As a former teenager — and every honest man is nodding his head — I can tell you without the slightest chance of being mistaken, that the kid has a smile plastered permanently on his face, and all his guy friends are giving him high-fives. The teacher is a looker.

Here is what Judge Zapata would do in this case:

Fire the teacher. Period. She clearly lacks sufficient sense and self-control for the job. Better that she works at Hooters.

But prison? Gimme a break.

* * * *

The court is now out of session. The judge is napping.

* * * *

(Note: The first sexual encounter would never have been publicized had not two European grad students happened by. It would have been just another of thousands of inebriated sexual encounters that occur at boozed-up frat parties.)

My favorite queen

MY FAVORITE queen is neither Great Britain’s Elizabeth II nor Denmark’s Margrethe II. My favorite queen is not even a she. He’s a he, Milo Yiannopoulos.

m_flagniceThe Greek-born, England-raised Yiannopoulos proves that being a queen doesn’t mean one’s a leftist.

It’s downright refreshing.

Here he is predicting (correctly, I hope) the demise of ham-fisted political correctness.

* * * *

(Note: Yiannopoulos is the tech editor of the conservative website Breitbart News,  among other things, and he’s the only gay guy on Earth barred from the City of San Francisco.)

War against men

I’M MAD AS Hell, and I’m not taking it anymore!

To what am I referring? The corporate war against men. Corporations are the root of all evil, as any clueless Smith College coed will assure you.

And what is the specific battlefield on which I wage war today? To wit: There are two sizes of nail clippers, right? A small version for fingers, and a large version for feet.

But those sizes are for women exclusively. The foot version doesn’t work for men’s feet unless the man is a midget.

I use the foot version for my fingers because the finger version fits my fingernails about as well as the foot version fits my footnails, which is to say not at all.

This is a clear corporate attack on men’s rights, men’s Constitutional and God-given rights to have neat feet.

And I’m sick unto death of it.

footLet’s be clear: The “big” clipper is about half as wide as my big toenail. And the smaller clipper for fingers likewise goes about halfway across my nails.

What are we to use? Hatchets? Cutlasses?

This is a feminist-lesbian plot* to diminish men, to put us in our place. I encourage all men to withhold sex from their women until something is done about this outrage.

Man up for nail clipper equality!

* * * *

*Yes, feminist-lesbians are in bed with corporations. Who knew?

Another upper cut

girl

IF THIS WERE not perilously threatening to national security, we could all burst out in howling laughter. We could even fall on the floor and roll around in a total giggle fit.

To what am I referring? The politically correct, feminist nonsense of wanting to put the ladies into hardcore military combat units that even most men can’t do.

Recently, I shared with you the news that 100 percent of applicants had flunked out of the Marine Corps Infantry Officer Course. Every single one of the women was overwhelmed.

Today we learn that 100 percent of applicants washed out of the Army Ranger School in the first phase. That’s right. They never even made it to first base.

How much longer will it be before the famously and necessarily tough training in those two services is watered down to shove some ladies through to justify the collectivist and feminist delusion that women and men are cut from the same camouflage cloth? It won’t be much longer, I predict.

Police and fire departments have already done it. Shame on them.

The Russians and Chinese are not doing this. Certainly not the Mohammedans.

Let us weep, yet again, for a once great nation. And marvel at the silliness in which it swims.

* * * *

(Chuckle-laden Army photo by Pfc. Antonio Lewis via The Washington Times.)

Newspaper days: Houston

Houston

I WORKED AT The Houston Chronicle for 15 years, the tail of my newspaper “career,” but I arrived there in a circular manner.

From New Orleans, I headed to the San Antonio Express-News, but I only stayed about four months. Loved the city. Hated the job or, more accurately, hated my boss. From the Express-News, I traveled to the Houston Post, but I resigned that job six months later.

The Post was the No. 2 paper in a two-paper town, and No. 2 papers were folding around the nation. I wanted a place to stay put, so I applied across town at the Houston Chronicle. I had a friend there who put in a good word for me. The news editor — and later assistant managing editor — who hired me was a big, ole, good-natured Mexican-American from Laredo who was also gay.

Fernando. More on him later.

At the time, the Houston Chronicle was one of the top 10 newspapers in America, circulation-wise. It’s not anymore because times have changed, and people have quit reading newspapers, which has made them more ignorant. It’s said we get our news online now, but I think that we’ve simply quit reading news. We do social media instead, which is gossip and chitchat.

Bodes very ill for America. But it bodes well for Mohammedans.

I decided to settle down. I got married to the woman I’d lived with for seven years. Her name is Julie. We bought a ranch house in the inner suburbs of town. The house cost just $86,000 and now it’s worth three times that. It was in my name when we divorced nine years later, and I gave it to my ex-wife after the divorce was final, a parting gift. How about that? She still lives there.

The Houston Chronicle newsroom is the size of a football field. The horseshoe copydesk, of course, was long gone, and we sat, side by side, at desks with computer terminals, editing stories, writing headlines, doing page designs, often in a rush, often with feet on the desk, especially mine.

The industry — and an industry it is — was changing rapidly. From being the male-dominated, liquor-bottle-in-desk-drawers, expletive-laced, bleary-eyed, fun, crackpot game of old, it became feminized, career-fixated and politically correct up the kazoo.

Fernando, the news editor who hired me, became assistant managing editor, the boss over all copydesk operations. He was a prince of political correctness and, amazingly, the only person I’ve ever known who readily admitted being politically correct. Ninety-nine percent of PC fanatics will give you a blank stare and deny ever having heard the term.

It’s like a Nazi seeing the swastika on his armband and saying, “What’s that about?”

PCAnything that sniffed of “offense” toward any “oppressed, victimized” group would bring immediate consequences. Even women in bathing suits on beaches vanished from our pages. Sexism!  This was not all Fernando’s doing.

Feminist zealots had contaminated the newsroom.

* * * *

WATERGATE

The sort of people in the business was changing. They were young careerists. To look at them, you might have thought you were in an insurance company’s office. My coworkers became tidy, bright-eyed and very ambitious. And you couldn’t walk in off the street and get hired. Degrees in journalism were de rigueur. Even higher levels of formal schooling was viewed very positively.

Watergate initiated much of this. What before was a traveling tinker trade became an honored and competitive calling. Bringing down a president can be very heady stuff.

Everybody wanted in. Journalism schools mushroomed after Nixon.

Youngsters did not just want in. They wanted to investigate! They wanted Pulitzers! And thus began the micro-examination of the private lives of public and wannabe public officials, something the internet made far easier than it used to be. Anyone who runs for high office today is out of his mind, in my opinion. You’ll be dragged through the dirt.

Except if you’re a member of an “oppressed” minority, which put you-know-who into the Oval Office.

* * * *

END OF THE LINE

The Houston Chronicle’s policy allowed early retirement if you’d reached age 55 and had been employed 15 years. I hit those two markers almost simultaneously in 1999. I had been divorced five years, and I was debt-free. I waved goodbye.

My newspaper days began at the tail of one fascinating, gluepot, highball era and terminated at the beginning of a new boring, careerist, internet world which I was very happy to leave.

My timing was perfect. The Chronicle’s circulation, like most big newspapers across America, has declined. The newsroom suffered lots of layoffs after I left. Friends found themselves out on the street. The paper’s now working hard on its website while, no doubt, praying at the same time.

* * * *

This is the third and final segment in a series called Newspaper Days. The two other engaging segments are San Juan and New Orleans.

(While my newspaper life was spent primarily at the The New Orleans States-Item, The Times-Picayune, The San Juan Star and the Houston Chronicle, I also spent brief moments — just months each — at the San Antonio Express-News, The Houston Post and the Florida Times-Union.)

* * * *

 (Note: Fernando, basically a great guy in spite of his being on the wrong side of the culture war, retired about the same moment that I did. He went on to become a playwright and was once interviewed on Fox News’ Glenn Beck show after the debut of Fernando’s play about Tammy Faye Bakker, a gay icon. When my wife and I visited Houston about a decade ago, the three of us had a nice coffee shop visit, conversing in Spanish. I was happy to see him.

(Fernando and I were Facebook amigos until my incessant railing against illegal immigration became too much for his open-borders, PC sensibilities, and he zapped me from his FB friend list. I’ve heard nothing from him in the years since, which saddens me. I sort of admire his rare willingness to admit his political correctness beliefs. That requires pelotas.)

* * * *

BONUS MATERIAL

From my file cabinet, I found press passes from the olden days. From top to bottom, New Orleans (1969), San Juan (early ’70s) and Houston (1984).

no id

Star

chronicle

 

Feminism takes it on the chin

soldierTHE MARINE CORPS, due to silly, perilous, namby-pamby political correctness, was strong-armed into letting the ladies enter its infantry officer course.

The results are in: Drum roll. All failed.

This is excellent news. I thought the Marines would simply dumb down the course to show how fair and touchy-feely they are. But no. It appears they applied the same standards as the men have long faced. Given that, the results were a no-brainer.

Women do not belong in the Marine Corps infantry, nor in the Army infantry. We are not all equal. The Army infantry, lamentably, does have women, and my heart goes out to their male companions. I pray for their survival. And this changes nothing.

American society continues its swirl down the drain of its dark destiny.