Saturday, September 23, 2006

Where Have All The Cowpeople Gone?

A couple days ago, I got tired of sitting around listening to my life suck, so I sought out some random blogs with which to amuse myself. I ran across a blog named “Eternal Bachelor” by a Brit calling himself “Duncan Idaho”. This web log is basically a staunchly anti-feminist rant. I wouldn’t bother following the link, if I were you; I include it only to give credit (or debit, in this case) where due. I’ve been a feminist for years and I’m proud of it. I’ve embraced the cause since the much-maligned 70’s, when it was actually a controversial issue. And some of my best friends are…. So I dismissed the content of “Eternal Bachelor” without a second thought[1]. However, the eerie part of reading a bit of it was that it brought to mind a posting by Midwest called “The Pussification of the American Man”. This link is worth following, by the way. I’m madly in love with Midwest, besides which her wit, intelligence and writing style are nonpareil. So go read her entry and come back.

Where was I? Oh yeah, Midwest’s blog. In the above-mentioned entry, Midwest bemoans the loss of macho in the American male (my words, not hers). Now this scares me a little bit. It’s not the first time I’ve heard this complaint, cf. the song I warped for the title of this entry. So what’s up, girls? I’ve worked hard to get in touch with my feminine side, damn it. At this point in my life, I’m pretty comfortable with the following facts about myself:


  • I am passionate about ballet (see Dance).

  • I have female friends that I don’t secretly want to sleep with.(Okay, one.)

  • I get manicures when I have the bucks.

  • I like to treat women as equals, particularly romantic partners.

  • I occasionally listen to Sarah MacLachlan.

  • I own a pair of nicely-made Italian loafers.

  • I enjoy shopping for clothes with women.
Okay, maybe I am pussified, now that I read the above list. The last entry was the killer. Shit. I was hoping I was sufficiently virile that I could speak for red-blooded American men everywhere and refute MW’s claims. Guess again, Hulles.

So apparently I need to do some more changing to meet women’s expectations. Sigh.

And of course, this is the point. I would claim that what Midwest is really making fun of is men who give in to women’s expectations, as opposed to men who stand up for who they are. It takes guts to become who you want to be, man or woman. Especially if who you want to be isn’t who is wanted. Just ask me.

Having said that, in the interest of making the American man’s blood a darker shade of crimson, the next time I am tempted to hold the door for a woman, I am instead going to slam it in her face and growl “…And that’s from Midwest!” After which I break down sobbing and give her my non-fat, sugar-free venti Vanilla latte.

- Hulles



[1] Perhaps wrongly; I only read a small part of it. Maybe the guy’s less of a zealot than he seems. I didn’t bother to find out.

1 comment:

Dulcinea said...

lovely...