Effed-Up Shit, My Uterus Will Cut You, Warning: Strident Feminism Ahead

It’s beginning to look a lot like eugenics!

I was in a North Carolina Rite-Aid yesterday, purchasing some products of a womanly nature. While walking down an aisle, I saw this.

Luckily, I wasn’t drinking anything at the time, or I would have done a spit-take all over the shelves and Rite-Aid probably would have made me buy the product. Although I suppose I could have brought it home and set it on fire to keep anyone else from using it.

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My Uterus Will Cut You, Warning: Strident Feminism Ahead

We could all learn something from that rabbit.

The tenor of political debate in the US has reached a stunning nadir; if anyone’s wondering what happened to the tone, we shot it, set it on fire, baked the ashes into a cake, ate the cake, shat it out, and then shot and burned that.

Given that, I’d like to suggest that we drop all the pretense, and just say what we mean:

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Effed-Up Shit, My Uterus Will Cut You

I’m Naive, Not Stupid. There’s a Difference.

Michelle W.:

I could write a post about the nonsense in Texas, but Amy already wrote this one. Why re-invent the wheel? You should go read it.

 

Originally posted on The Oeditrix:

Gathering in the rotunda. Drop in the bucket of orange pro-choice supporters.

Gathering in the rotunda. Drop in the bucket of orange pro-choice supporters.

This morning I woke up after a surreal night with a lot on my mind. One phrase in particular was ringing in my ears: “Don’t be naive, Amy.”

Back when I quit writing for CultureMap Austin over a nasty, misogynist editorial masquerading as a news story by the Dallas staff, the business manager (then–he’s since been fired) called me up on the phone to “discuss” my decision.

What he really wanted was to cajole or shame me into reversing my position–if not publicly, at least in a private phone call. He talked in circles, but having survived grad school, I am not easily confused even by smart people talking in circles, much less idiots. While some of the details of the call have become fuzzy in my mind, one stands out. After he had failed to make his arguments look…

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My Uterus Will Cut You, To Hell In a Handbasket

I think we need to clarify basic definitions before we continue this conversation.

Let’s leave aside the terrifying image of hordes of babies with assault rifles, shooting up the joint every time they don’t feel like taking a nap or are not allowed to have another cookie.

If they are babies? They have ALREADY BEEN BORN, and thus, were not aborted. I mean, I guess the armed babies could form some kind of vigilante group to terrorize abortion clinics and attempt to stop future abortions, but that’s a whole separate issue.

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My Uterus Will Cut You, New Jersey, Superiority

It’s not a good time to be a vagina-possessing person in North Dakota.

I’m sorry that you’ve been legally demoted from “person” to “incubator.” As always, New Jersey welcomes you.

Parts of southern New Jersey are barren wastelands similar to what I image North Dakota is like, so you should feel pretty comfortable here.

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Effed-Up Shit, My Uterus Will Cut You, To Hell In a Handbasket, You've Built a Crawl Space Under Your All-Time Low

Life Lessons and Gendered Observations

1. I’m pretty sure dudes pass out drunk at parties all the time, and no one interprets this as a license to jam shit up their asses.

2. If I’m passed out drunk in the middle of the road and am unable to communicate and am wearing no pants and a t-shirt that says “Yes, Please!” and you stick anything in my vagina,  you just raped me.

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My Uterus Will Cut You, You've Built a Crawl Space Under Your All-Time Low

My Review of the Oscars

1. I was not aware that Edgar Winters does sound, editing, set direction, and other sundry jobs for 75% of all films. Busy man.

2. Seth MacFarlane and the rest of the “writing” team hate women. Also they are shitty writers, because taking pot-shots at women is the laziest form of comedy, even lazier than puns.

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My Uterus Will Cut You

I Can’t Handle the Truth

As I was making dinner last night, I heard a commercial for a pregnancy test that promised to give you results as close to the moment of conception as possible; apparently, the ultimate goal is to know the very moment the Hero Sperm breaches the final ovum defense and lands its jet on the X chromosome in front of the “Mission Accomplished” banner.

I’m not sure how that would work absent some kind of invasive technology, perhaps where a turkey doneness-style pop-up device is implanted into the abdomen of all women of childbearing age

Then I wondered how farfetched that idea really was, given the current state of Blastocyst Rights and disregard for women’s bodily autonomy.

And then I thought, “maybe I should Google this.” But I got scared, because there are some things I just don’t want to know.

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Effed-Up Shit, My Uterus Will Cut You

You guys, it’s SO HARD to clean brains out of textured upholstery.

My job requires that I read a great many blogs. Some of them are great. Some of them are awful. Some of them make me laugh. Some of them make me cry. Some of them put me to sleep.

Some of them are written by young women displaying truly stunning critical thinking skills that cause them to write things like this:

As for the women who get multiple abortions, I most certainly believe that they should be sterilized after the second one, no matter the reasoning for them. If we allow women to have an easy way out because they are too lazy to get a shot or take a pill, the senselessness will continue.*

My head exploded when I read this woman’s post—and not just because I had to correct her grammar before I was comfortable posting this excerpt—splattering gray matter all over my new sofa. I paid good money for that sofa and would rather not have to throw it out, although I suppose it’s my fault for being too lazy to cover it with a tarp before wading into the morass of the blogosphere.

Really, I’ve always been pretty lazy. I should never have been allowed to buy the sofa in the first place, and should probably be barred from buying sofas in the future.

This is why I can’t have nice things.

*No, I will not provide a link. This behavior should not be encouraged.

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My Uterus Will Cut You

They’re Like Jews for Jesus, But Without All the Jewiness

It’s recently been brought to my attention that there are “Feminists for Romney.” Apparently, they believe that a government attempt at uterine colonization is a fringe issue that detracts from the more pressing problems of a sagging economy.

To these people, I might respectfully suggest that it is perhaps a bit shortsighted to think that women’s reproductive choices are not an economic issue.

I could suggest that in a much less respectful manner, so don’t force my hand.

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