Eugene Narrett
A
nyone with a functioning mind realizes after a few days that the Boston Globe's "Living" section should really be subtitled "for women only." Any men who work there (though what they produce degrades the concept of work) are male only in a biological sense, if that, and long ago left their masculinity elsewhere.These simple facts were underscored February 27 in a typical column by Diane White which exposed the vulgarity which feminism has made routine, and the hypocrisy which is its mother's milk.
The title indicated the crude mockery which is White's stock in trade. "Women tell how men really measure up" reviewed Dick for a Day, a collection of stories, essays, poems and drawings in which women express their fantasies about "what it would be like to have one for a day."
White's indecency is indicated by terms like "plumbing" and "apparatus," just the kind of objectification women claim they used to suffer, and supposedly, wished to get beyond. Sadly, the tradition of male deference to and solicitude for women has produced, at least among the chattering middle-class media elites, not gratitude, but boredom and rage, as evident daily in divorce courts.
Part of what makes this book worthy of the Globe's and White's attention is fantasies about getting a penis from "Acme Novelty Organs and using it to beat egg whites" (an eponymous pun?). One contributor would "stick it on my forehead and parade around the way its regular owners do." Perhaps she knows someone in the Governor's office. True to form, Germaine Greer would most like cutting her's off at the end of the day.
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The Globe is at the center of the cultural sickness crippling this state and nation. It is amused by filth, and finds forced father-loss trivial. |
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Beyond these angry, pornographic crudities, the main theme of the book and White's column was the PC celebration of tutti frutti notions of gender, the flip side of vilifying men. Thus, the contributors represent "a variety of sexual preferences" and show that "men" and "women" are "only two of the ways that human beings can experience sexuality. There are always more than two choices," precisely the message students get in those abusive "sex quizzes" that keep appearing in our public schools.
White urges gender confusion in her last sentence, which hopes for "a companion volume," that is, one on male transvestites and transsexualism. This is old hat for the Globe, as shown recently by its breathless full-page coverage of the advertisements for Superbowl XXXI. Rated from 1-4 silver helmets, top prize went to Holiday Inn's ad comparing a male transsexual to motel renovations. "Best sight gag of the night" with "plenty of enjoyable details... and it makes a surprisingly good point about the product," agreed the Globe's reviewers. "Bravo, 'Bob!' (the transsexual). You've never looked better, and neither has Holiday Inn."
Holiday Inn pulled the ad after the storm it raised elsewhere in America. But the Globe did not run a single dissenting column, not even a letter to the editor questioning its plaudits for male mutilation made a joke for an audience including 25 million boys.
Perhaps this is no surprise. What else can one expect from a supposedly serious paper that ignores the plight of children who lose fathers to the gross inequities and lack of due process in divorce courts while regularly celebrating lesbians who procure children from sperm banks?
The Globe is at the center of the cultural sickness crippling this state and nation. It is amused by filth, and finds forced father-loss trivial. Perfectly attuned to the perversions of sense and language that typify our era, its "Living" section would be better titled, "Living Death."