Friday, May 16, 2014

Imagine There's No Gender

It's easy if you try / No men among us / Unless they're gay or bi...

That's what they want, right? Gender equality, by which they mean gender equivalence, which equates to compulsory hermaphroditism.

I guess I just don't understand this liberal compulsion to auto-castrate. Where does it come from? What drives it? Is it the transformation of a more primary drive -- something from nature -- or is it wholly learned?

If so, what is the lesson? How do we end up in a world of parasitic Julias and puerile Pajama Boys? Who failed in their duty to teach these boys to properly despise their lack of manliness? Who neglected to transmit the male logos?

As an aside -- maybe not -- my job as a parent is to forge a man out of the raw material of my boy. I mean, right? The other day, I mentioned that I help coach his little league team. First playoff game was yesterday. Yes, we prevailed with a walk-off hit in the bottom of the last inning.

A moment of great Parental Pride occurred in the 4th, when Tristan was struck by a pitch and did exactly what I've advised him to do: don't rub, maybe give the pitcher an exasperated look, toss the bat aside with great disdain, and take your base. Show a little contempt at this feeble attempt at domination. Pathetic. {spit}

Or, if you really want to freak out the pitcher, just shake your head and chuckle to yourself.

Oh, and I gave him one more little piece of advice: if you get hit, return the favor by stealing second and third on the next two pitches. Mission accomplished.

By way of context, no other kid does this, and most of them dissolve into tears even when it can't possibly hurt that much. (Like on the butt cheek of a plump kid? Please.) Coaches rush forward and surround the player like a bunch of nervous hens. I'm not bragging, I just don't understand how the culture changed so dramatically in one generation.

Anyway, it's not as if I had to drill it into him. Rather, I mentioned it just once -- I think after a big leaguer got hit -- and the Principle resonated.

"Right. Don't even give the pitcher the pleasure of thinking he hurt you."

And as Mrs. G said to the other parents, don't bother asking him where he got hit, because he won't tell you.

But now we celebrate the exact opposite reaction. We can't call it a virtue, so what is it? For example, liberals fall over themselves to determine who can be more sensitized to "micro-aggressions."

Micro-aggressions? MICRO-AGGRESSIONS?! You're actually teaching children to scour the social environment for reasons to to feel victimized? That in itself is a MACRO aggression, dickhead!

For example, I read the other day how it is supposed to be offensive to ask a Spanish-speaking individual where's he's from, because it implies that he's not from Here. It's deeply anglonormative and privileged or something, or maybe like asking a fat lady when the baby is due.

If the inquirer were actually being aggressive and obnoxious, wouldn't the appropriate response involve something along the lines of simple Fuck You? But what kind of nut says FUCK YOU! in response to a friendly and innocuous inquiry? If it's a micro-aggression, why not just be microscopically offended, or in other words, ignore it?

There seems to be a kind of perverse privilege that goes along with being absurdly sensitive to these imaginary slights. It's a little like the art world, where the only way to prove your distinction is to claim to appreciate things that would repel an ordinary person, such as this genius who creates her masterpieces by dropping paint-filled eggs from her nethermost ladybitz.

Lady? That's aggressive too. Dennis Prager mentioned the other day that at some elite university, the gay-bi-lesbian-cross dressing crowd wants to ban use of the phrase "ladies and gentlemen" as Deeply Offensive. In the microscopic sense.

Anyway, the egg-chucking artist is an exception to the Giuliani Rule of "If I Can Do It, It Isn't Art," because I can't do that and it's still not art.

Hey, wait a minute.... Shouldn't I be offended that I am being excluded from this vaginormative art form?

That is all. I admit it. I got nothing. Go Cards. If you really want to win this thing, you have to be ready to give up the body:

29 Comments:

Blogger Paul Griffin said...

I recall that androgeny was something that C.S. Lewis was always sort of alluding to in his fictional work that somehow dealt with the future (or progressive ideas). I used to think this was an odd thing to have in there. Now I just think the man had a very good idea where the ship was headed...

5/16/2014 10:00:00 AM  
Blogger julie said...

For example, I read the other day how it is supposed to be offensive to ask a Spanish-speaking individual where's he's from, because it implies that he's not from Here.

I've seen this dynamic in my own family. Not so much my generation, but my mom and her siblings, being racially mixed, look racially ambiguous. When people are curious about our family background, instead of just accepting that humans tend to be curious about other humans, they automatically assume the asker wants to know why they're trying to pass for white.

It's a twisted mindset, formed both by family dynamics and by the culture they grew up in. Back in the 50s, some people really did want to know for malicious reasons, and the fallout was real. But very rarely anymore. If anything, being mixed is an asset today: white liberals automatically assume you are heroic and wise just because there's a little coal in your woodpile, and if you want to join any kind of group where minorities are scarce you're practically a celebrity. So in a way, the racism is still there, but instead of disgust it's fascination. Which actually still is kind of creepy. But the creepers are the leftists who want to make an idol out of your supposed suffering.

5/16/2014 10:02:00 AM  
Blogger julie said...

Shouldn't I be offended that I am being excluded from this vaginonormative art form?

You also can't knit a sweater out of wool stashed in your ladypocket instead of a sewing bag. I think you should stage a protest.

5/16/2014 10:04:00 AM  
Blogger Gagdad Bob said...

She's the ultimate ovary tower artist.

5/16/2014 10:20:00 AM  
Blogger Magister said...

this liberal compulsion to auto-castrate. Where does it come from?

Teachers.

5/16/2014 10:37:00 AM  
Blogger Magister said...

More generally, I think all this comes from a larger collapse. The "closely-knit small town community" is the exception, not the rule. The rule is "aggregated individuals in competition for scarce resources." The latter think about their rights only in competition with other rights. The presumption is that the wider social world is hostile and constantly poised to impinge.

Roger Scruton notices how much this kind of competitive "rights talk" has pervaded our culture. Following the legal theorist W. N. Hohfeld, he describes the ubiquity of "claim rights":

A claim against another, if expressed as a right, is an imposition of a duty. If this duty arises from no free action or chain or responsibility that would provide a cogent ground for the claim, then by expressing it as a right we override the other's sovereignty. We say to him: here is something you must do or provide, even though your duty to do so arises from nothing you have done or for which you are responsible. This is simply a demand that you must satisfy.

The LGBT crowd has succeeded in turning their general desire for psychological peace into a specific claim on the rest of us.

So part of the origin of this compulsion to auto-castrate is in the automatic nature of many people to assume that the world is purely a place of competing claim rights, and that people who have had success in claim rights in the past should not have them anymore in the future. They should let other claims come to the fore. They should, in short, STFU. Because racist. Because hetero. Etc.

I wish all my neighbors were Coons.

5/16/2014 10:50:00 AM  
Blogger Gagdad Bob said...

Hey, I wish one was.

5/16/2014 10:55:00 AM  
Blogger Magister said...

Speaking of sports, I was glad to see Zack Martin go higher in the draft than Johnny Manziell.

5/16/2014 11:05:00 AM  
Blogger JP said...

Liberty! Fraternity! Equality!

Or something.



5/16/2014 11:08:00 AM  
Blogger julie said...

Magister, if all your neighbors were coons you'd be living in the True happiest place on earth. Then in short order, as soon as word got around, it would be invaded by everyone else, and it all goes downhill from there...

But yeah, even one such neighbor would be nice.

Re. claim rights, yes, that's a good term. Pretty much describes Obamacare, come to think of it. Or the idea of a "right" to healthcare in general, because if everybody has that "right," somebody has to provide it. Not just pay for it, but perform all the services. At what point does having a medical degree become a form of slavery?

5/16/2014 11:09:00 AM  
Blogger JP said...

"So part of the origin of this compulsion to auto-castrate is in the automatic nature of many people to assume that the world is purely a place of competing claim rights, and that people who have had success in claim rights in the past should not have them anymore in the future."

This is part of the tablula rasa fallacy, I think.

5/16/2014 11:14:00 AM  
Blogger Leslie Godwin said...

When Tristan was 5, I noticed that the male baseball coaches at that level "mothered" the boys, so I got him involved in roller hockey. The coaches there treated the kids very differently. Even the youngest were expected to be resilient when they got slightly hurt, and if a kid complained that they were tired or that it was hot, they really stuck out compared to the rest of the kids who asked to be double-shifted when their team didn't have enough players that day to give everyone a shift off at once. And I remember how different it felt to hear the coaches tell the kids to get right back up when they fell down (Tristan literally spent almost as much time on the pavement as on his feet the first season when he was learning how to skate).

Tristan did resonate to this, but the overall culture was one that expected them to live by a manly code of honor. So all of the boys tried to act tougher.

Bob's example of the 11 year-old boy who got hit by a pitch yesterday is the rule, not the exception. The coach ran out when boy screamed and hit the deck after being hit by a fastball, all of the players on the field took a knee, the player was given an unlimited amount of time to pull himself together, and when he finally got up, everyone in both stands and on both teams cheered loudly for him. And this is one of our most mature boys and a team leader.

Compare that to an example of when Tristan was 6 years-old and I picked him up from hockey camp where he had been skating for 6 hours in 95-100 degree temperatures. Coach Ned greeted me by saying, "Tristan is a stud! His skate was cutting into his ankle, so I sprayed it with nu skin. He didn't even scream when I sprayed it, and he skated and played hockey the rest of the day!"

Tristan was trying to look cool about it, but he was really proud of himself. Coach Ned not only didn't worry that I would be upset that he was in substantial pain, but bragged about Tristan's manning up, assuming that I would also be proud of him.

When he was 7 or so,Tristan (naturally) cared more about what sport his dad thought was cool and switched to baseball. Bob has been involved every season, and the coaches are slightly less maternal at this level, so it's a net gain. But Tristan will often mention that he doesn't care that it is a very hot day (yesterday was 100 degrees at game time) because he skated all day with hockey gear on a few summers ago.

5/16/2014 11:18:00 AM  
Blogger julie said...

Leslie, re. the baseball game, just wow. I'd expect that kind of reaction if the kid had a concussion or a broken bone or something, but for getting hit in the butt??

Whatever happened to the days when getting bruised during a game and sucking it up was a badge of honor?

I've been thinking about what kind of sports to get Liam into, one of these days. He'll definitely need it. I think they do roller hockey just around the corner here...

5/16/2014 11:34:00 AM  
Blogger Magister said...

Yep. Nothing argues like success. My dad took the same tack. He made me work in the local steel mill as general labor when I turned 18. No work experience since has held a candle to that in terms of danger and dirt. Surviving that made me feel like I could handle anything. I figure military guys out-stud me by a long shot, but my experience was enough. We boys thrive on physical tests and surviving. Nothing is better for our self-esteem than to come through some tough experience intact, and preferably by ourselves. That's why dads are important: they understand that, and they can help make it happen. And that's why moms are important, too: they can hold the wounded boy for a little bit before he shakes it off and walks back to his father. This push/pull seems pretty important, and the balance has to skew eventually in the male direction. Otherwise, we get wounded Pajama Boy, who then wants everyone else to be wounded so Mommy can take care of everybody.

5/16/2014 11:37:00 AM  
Blogger Van Harvey said...

"For example, I read the other day how it is supposed to be offensive to ask a Spanish-speaking individual where's he's from, because it implies that he's not from Here. It's deeply anglonormative and privileged or something, or maybe like asking a fat lady when the baby is due."

If that's a micro-aggression... what was the Sam-the-Ram kiss?

5/16/2014 11:39:00 AM  
Blogger Van Harvey said...

... awesome flying catch by Tristan.

And did he choose the exasperated look or the grin & chuclke?

5/16/2014 11:47:00 AM  
Blogger Magister said...

If there's no gender anymore, I'm cancelling my subscription to Sports Illustrated.

5/16/2014 11:49:00 AM  
Blogger Van Harvey said...

Gagdad said "Hey, I wish one was."

Me too. Actually... it's possible I might have one. At least when he was moving in last week and I asked him where he was from, he just answered "Mexico, by way of Alabama.", and that was that. Seemed Macro friendly rather than micro-aggrieved. Good thing he wasn't from California.

5/16/2014 11:56:00 AM  
Blogger mushroom said...

For example, I read the other day how it is supposed to be offensive to ask a Spanish-speaking individual where's he's from, because it implies that he's not from Here.

I got stopped for doing 68 in a 55 last year (I'd slowed down). When the cop came up to the door, he sounded like my Australian colleague who works down in Austin. I commented on it and still didn't get a ticket.

5/16/2014 12:18:00 PM  
Blogger mushroom said...

The anti-masculine attitude is a function of the anti-competition, anti-achievement mentality. We're supposed to cooperate. We're not supposed to try and be the best because that leaves some people behind.

This goes back to one of the reasons I despise unions. The best workers in a union is penalized for the benefit of the slackers and the incompetent.

Unless they are public sector unions, in which case they are usually all incompetent slackers.

5/16/2014 12:23:00 PM  
Blogger USS Ben USN (Ret) said...

Challenges are meant to be overcome.
We must adapt and overcome challenges or we simply do not grow, physically, mentally, or spiritually.

It's great to see Tristan already knows this and much more! Kudos to you both for teaching him the right way.

What a superb pic, to go along with an outstanding effort!

5/16/2014 03:00:00 PM  
Blogger USS Ben USN (Ret) said...

The motto of the left basically boils down to:
"Hell no we won't grow!"

And really, I could care less. The problem is they don't want anyone else to grow either.

Of course,
I aim to misbehave. :^)

5/16/2014 03:06:00 PM  
Blogger Jack said...

How do we end up in a world of parasitic Julias and puerile Pajama Boys? Who failed in their duty to teach these boys to properly despise their lack of manliness? Who neglected to transmit the male logos?

Like civilization itself, all it takes is a generation or two to neglect turning boys into men and the whole thing comes crashing down.

And it seems worse than merely a generation or two raised solely by single mothers. Even many of those who do have fathers in the home, don't have a father, but a male mother.

It seems as if the lesbian couple raising an daughter of either sex (aka an empowered girl or an emasculated son) has now become the model for parenting.

Just as anti-racist can frequently mean anti-white, likewise "gender neutral" almost always means anti-male.

Funny how that works.

Where I live in wacko-lefty land, this is seen as a good thing.

5/16/2014 04:49:00 PM  
Blogger Leslie said...

Gagdad said "Hey, I wish one was."

I have one. Just one. Thankfully. Your son is very much like my eldest, who, after being knocked unconscious (for just a sec, mom), talked his high school soccer coach into letting back in the game, as he was very needed on defense. My younger son swims, year around, and, in Arizona we don't have indoor pools. They swim when it is 35 degrees and the wind is blowing. The water is warm, but not when they get in and out. No one whines. He has an awesome coach.

5/16/2014 06:29:00 PM  
Blogger Joan of Argghh! said...

That's an awesome photo-moment, Bob. Suitable for framing. Kinda neat when the kid starts to become the logo he can point to, and point others to.

Commenter Paul had the benefit of working in construction when he was just 14. He'd come home positively reeking of Florida sweat and teenage growth hormone.

I wish you could see the official "chef" photo of him, bald, bearded, fiercely holding the blade of his favorite knife between his clenched teeth!

Confident and tenderhearted, he wields his language skills now for profit in the world of codetalkers and keyboards. But his friends swear the entire testosterone level of the room skyrockets when he walks into a gathering. Real men hearten their brethren to emulate their forgotten heritage.

Lest you think he's forgotten himself amidst his culinary arts, his hipster stand-up bass-playing, his MST3K nerd-love... he shoots guns, fishes, and beats up cops in Akido classes twice a week.

I guess the boy's alright.

/mombrag

5/18/2014 06:51:00 AM  
Blogger julie said...

I thought that was your Paul, Joan. Have to say I've been very impressed by the depth and thought of what he has had to say. He comes across as a lot older than he must be.

He makes you look good :)

5/18/2014 07:17:00 AM  
Blogger Joan of Argghh! said...

Well, somebody has to!

Thanks, Julie. I think his formative years in Mexico as a missionary kid with access to George MacDonald and C.S.Lewis likely had a lot to do with it. A bit of Porter's "Scottish Chiefs" is recommended, as well, if your boy would like to see the romantic epitome of leadership and virtue. Paul was only 10 when I read it aloud to him.

They need the right stories and myths.

5/18/2014 07:31:00 AM  
Blogger Joan of Argghh! said...

One extra aside in this sea of masculinity, we did insist that Paul learn to dance a woman across a room. (Neither of us having that background, btw.)

We told him that if he could manage a woman on the dance floor, he could own the world. :o)

5/18/2014 07:36:00 AM  
Blogger mushroom said...

"Manage a woman on the dance floor" reminds me of skit I saw a few years back. There are some people working on a car, and the guy playing the mechanic pulls out the entire engine block.

One the other characters says, "You can't just pull out a 400 pound engine!"

The mechanic replies, "You've never seen me dance with my girlfriend."

5/18/2014 11:47:00 AM  

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