It was the left that retheorized family and marriage, reshaping the age-old institutions into ones that could better accommodate gay relationships and women’s equality.
And look what happened?
It’s possible to tell the story in standard economic terms. Getting pussy became very much cheaper – perhaps it should have done too, that’s a different argument – so and therefore the price paid for pussy in terms of committment and all that fell.
So, here we are then.
It’s Moira. Has she ever even seen a cock? She can – and has always been able to – get all the pussy she desires without having to “retheorise” family and marriage.
“Retheorise”? Now, in practice…
Put that way it sounds like a neoliberal conspiracy manipulating the price of pussy.
Scratch a left-wing sex-positive feminist and there’s a prudish Victorian maiden aunt underneath.
Is that using the euphemism “pussy” in its broadest sense? The Mrs Slocombe and Mr Humphries sense?
It was the left that retheorized family and marriage, reshaping the age-old institutions
True. And just imagine the towering conceit, the monstrous ego, the sheer lust for dominance of personalities capable of that.
Not to mention the delusion to think that this has been an improvement.
The weird thing is, in my social circles everyone is still getting married and having kids and, mostly, staying married.
And I would say that at least 50% of my social circle are batshit crazy lefties and greens – because I live in the Cotswolds, where you can live in massive old houses, employ nannies and cleaners and gardeners, and send your kids to private schools, and still hold luxury beliefs, because the barbarians aren’t going to come to your valley*.
They’re all very nice people mind you.
*They are, and to be honest part of me is looking forward to it.
They sound like the sort of people who can afford luxury opinions.
That’s why I called them luxury beliefs. In a way, I think it helps that they are disastrous for others – holding beliefs that are painful for people, and which you can pretend are painful for you as well, is like some delicious elixir.
It’s Munchausen’s Syndrome by Proxy. On a vast scale.
“The preachers have retreated, and the perverts have taken over. “
She’s aiming that at the Dreaded Republicans, but….. Last time I checked the Banishment of the Preachers and, as a result, the Rise of the Perverts is a typical Lefty thing…
And the Perverts preach… ohboi do they….
Drumpf makes you married and pregnant by grabbing your pussy.
I must admit, I only skimmed the article.
ps I’m not clear on her views on porn either.
Judging by her expression, none of this reshaping has made her happy.
She looks like a shrew and a scold.
Also, like a teenager who’s just stopped crying.
The social cancer of feminism makes many women resentful of, and unhappy about, their biology – ie periods (pain/emotional instability every fourth week for c.40 years), pregnancy (discomfort), birth (pain/danger), breastfeeding (discomfort/pain), menopause (discomfort/emotional instability), etc.
The wimmins project this resentment about their biology onto men, who have an ‘unfair’ biological advantage. And they try to transcend their biological limitations by demanding period/pregnancy/childcare/menopause leave from and adjustments at work, etc. But legislation ≠ liberation – only regulation. And so they are still unhappy but also angry…
Meanwhile, many normal women get on with their lives, accepting their biological choices and limitations, and focus on (socially invaluable!) child-rearing and home-making (+ gardening, charity work, etc). And while talented normal women (the top 20-25% of the female IQ distribution) can and do achieve significantly, despite their biological disadvantages, average women are — IMO — fulfilled in the home, nursery, kitchen, garden, church and charity…
Female emancipation is not the same as feminism.
Any thoughts?
Any thoughts?
“Severian. Name for me the seven principles of goverance.”
It was an effort for me to speak, but I managed (in my dream, if it was a dream) to say, “I do not recall that we have studied such a thing, Master.”
“You were always the most careless of my boys,” he told me, and fell silent.
A foreboding grew on me; I sensed that if I did not reply, some tragedy would occur. At last I began weakly, “Anarchy…”
“That is not governance, but the lack of it. I taught you that it precedes all governance. Now list the seven sorts.”
“Attachment to the person of the monarch. Attachment to a bloodline or other sequence of succession. Attachment to the royal state. Attachment to a code legitimizing the governing state. Attachment to the law only. Attachment to a greater or lesser board of electors, as framers of the law. Attachment to an abstraction conceived as including the body of electors, other bodies giving rise to them, and numerous other elements, largely ideal.”
“Tolerable. Of these, which is the earliest form, and which the highest?”
“The development is in the order given, Master,” I said. “But I do not recall that you ever asked before which was highest.”
Master Malrubius leaned forward, his eyes burning brighter than the coals of the fire. “Which is highest, Severian?”
“The last, Master?”
“You mean attachment to an abstraction conceived as including the body of electors, other bodies giving rise to them, and numerous other elements, largely ideal?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Of what kind, Severian, is your own attachment to the Divine Entity?”
I said nothing. It may have been that I was thinking; but if so, my mind was much too filled with sleep to be conscious of its thought. Instead, I became profoundly aware of my physical surroundings. The sky above my face in all its grandeur seemed to have been made solely for my benefit, and to be presented for my inspection now. I lay upon the ground as upon a woman, and the very air that surrounded me seemed a thing as admirable as crystal and as fluid as wine.
“Answer me, Severian.”
“The first, if I have any.”
“To the person of the monarch?”
“Yes, because there is no succession.”
“The animal that rests beside you now would die for you. Of what kind is his attachment to you?”
“The first?”
There was no one there. I sat up. Malrubius and Triskele had vanished, yet my side felt faintly warm.
………………………
Do you understand?
Kinder, Küche, Kirche.
Is she Lonnie’s granddaughter?
The left? Why not far left? They would never say just ‘the right.’
“It was far left commie freaks that retheorized family and marriage.”
Fixed it.
But what about democracy? Less than ten percent of people are homos. So you destroy ‘age-old institutions’ to accommodate a handful of people (which makes Guardian smile).
POWER TO THE TINY MINORITY !!!
I obviously didn’t read this shit but over a cup of tea with two minutes to spare…
Actually, no, I’m still not reading it. It’s obviously going to be downright lies, half-truth, snide insinuations, credulity-stretching assertions which fall part like bog roll in a Wetherspoon’s urinal, and bullshit from ‘unnamed sources’.
I did scroll to the bottom, though, and came across this, which suggests these cunts are in vast amounts of financial trouble:
Wetherspoon’s urinals are comparatively clean…
She looks like a run-a-mile woman, but “away” rather than “towards”.
Why do people say “pussy” when they mean “nookie”? Must everything be Americanised?
Relevant
Didn’t Trump say that about grabbing pussy was because – to paraphrase – they were keen to let you if you had money or power? So it wasn’t a case of forcing yourself on the females – forcing being completely anathema to me..
As someone without much in the way of money or power, I have watched gobsmacked at the women who fawn over the rich and powerful, one example being the nasty dwarf who used to run Formula 1 racing.
I’m afraid that when I first watched American movies in the 60’s where a gangster called someone a pussy, I thought they meant meek and mild, not that they were a Kundt.. Americans never understand British slang, and I only partly understand theirs after a surfeit of Hollywood.
Further confusingly, it can also be the fizzog.
When referring to the face it was shortened to “puss” in my youth. Hence the joke song title, “Don’t put the cat in the washing machine or you’ll get a sock in the puss.”.