Friday, April 6, 2012


Like Brer Rabbit (Joel Chandler Harris's historical character of black folklore), born and bred in the brier patch, women have become inured to the pricks and actually enjoy them (plus they are a biological necessity).  Originally the animal kingdom, of which I count myself a part, flourished from asexual reproduction - you know, nature's magical genetic splitting of one into two complete individuals or more.  If we had hung onto that method, we would all be equals and probably happily devouring each other in an orgy of eternal protoplasm.  But at some point, our species diverged from the earthworm, where we were all bisexual and enjoying our own company for procreation.  How we got Adam and Eve out of that beats me.

A Cousin of Brer Rabbit on Waverly Lane

The Bible maintains that God made man from scratch and seeing he needed a side dish, made woman out of his rib.  Right there is the basis for inequality.  Man was God's main thought, woman was an afterthought, the amusing little helper creature.  Someone should tell Miss Piggy (The Muppet Prima Donna) how we stand because she clearly doesn't get it; and I don't either.  

In my baby bin at Buxton Hospital, where I was born, I could see through the blur that my booties were pink, while others were blue.  No big deal, I thought.  Maybe I'm some kind of royalty.  Little by little that idea lost ground as new unending prohibitions sprang up like signs along the highway:  Red Light, Stop; Green Light, Go; Yellow Light, Caution; No U-Turn; Do Not Enter; Buy Burma Shave.  (That last one is a history lesson, Google it.)

The hair-pulling contest over which political party has the high ground with women is laughable.  Neither does; but one is less likely to toss a virgin into a volcano than the other.  Burning people at the stake used to enforce "traditional family values" too.  Corraling women up and forcing them to face the consequences of a hard decision and the judgement of hard-core believers and the indignity of unpleasant medical procedures does not convince me that anyone has the high ground here.

Mount Hood Daffodils Grown on Waverly Lane

So what is wrong with women?  I think we all suffer from Stockholm Syndrome (empathizing with and abetting your captors).  We can be compared to Otis (the tippler on the Andy Griffith Show from the 60's) who routinely locked himself in jail for drunkenness.  We secure our own imprisonment in illegitimacy and hang the key on the wall.  It is the only way to make everyone happy; and our own happiness is put off until someday.  We sing the hymns to male superiority and consider ourselves a fine creation.  

Enough of this going along.  When you have leverage, use it.  It is the saddest thing in the world to see so much ability and wisdom controlled by the powerful with narrow agendas.  Shake free of "traditional" precepts and think like a bitch, that "back in your place" epithet used by the dogmatic.  Before I die, I want to know that my lifetime of bitching was not in vain!


  1. don't know how I got to your blog but I am definitely intrigued. I'll be back to read some more..meanwhile stay out of trouble!..;j

  2. Words! I love how you write your words! And I totally agree with you.

  3. Being In Total Control of Herself --"B.I.T.C.H."
    I got that from a show about drag queens...(who studies women with more fascination than a drag queen?) Aside from electing an openly draggy queen into office, we seem to be at the mercy of a hoard of wealthy politicians who have come here from Planet Stupid to wreck democracy.
    I love your writing, both rant and humor, and nothing you have done has been in vain. Your post is wonderful and I agree: there is so much wisdom and talent being repressed : time once again to speak up ! No backsliding.
    P.S.- if you go to Golden Corral for Easter, please share, LOL !

    1. LLC, I can personally attest to the fact that no Chesapeake Bay Family Members were corralled at a Golden Corral this Easter. She fixed a meal fit for a king. No, she fixed a meal fit for a QUEEN.

  4. Bitches for Freedom!! Beats freedom fries.
    And BFF is a good acronym.

  5. Happy Easter, Chesapeake Bay Bitches,( I mean ladies, LOL) ! BFF IS a great acronym, I love it.

    It is technically after midnight where you are, now, so no sacrilege intended. I hope your family had a lovely dinner together.

  6. W.O.W. running on the B F F platform...rock the vote,everybody !