This Is NOT "Real Housewives"

“It happened that a fire broke out backstage in a theater,” writes Soren Kierkegaard, “The clown came out to inform the public. They thought it was a jest and applauded. He repeated his warning. They shouted even louder. So I think the world will come to an end amid the general applause from all the wits who believe that it is a joke.” It’s ironic that FX is airing “The People vs OJ Simpson” right now, as Americans once again face their great Achilles Heel: race. For, despite the gains made in the last 60 years that have made our country more inclusive; despite electing our first African-American president, many in white America continue to harbor deep-seated resentment toward other races. It still remains, as Toni Morrison said, that “In this country American means white. Everybody else has to hyphenate.” Until this time in modern history, white Americans have not had a viable political candidate behind whom they could throw their support; no one who clearly articulated their angst regarding their perceived loss of power. Enter Donald Trump. Perusing the comments section of many online articles regarding Trump’s cringe-worthy run for the White House reveals a scathing potpourri of racist sentiments straight out of a 1950’s Klan meeting. In fact, a cursory reading of such comments would give one the impression that white resentment has been simmering there, just under the surface, for quite some time, waiting for the right demagogic mouthpiece to articulate it. In many ways, Donald Trump is the right’s Barack Obama: that one candidate who storms onto the otherwise staid political scene and threatens to shake things up, to bring “hope and change” to the disenfranchised and disillusioned. Yet, while Obama appealed to a large cross-section of American voters and advanced race relations in this country, Trump, although promising to take on the establishment, is also brazenly un-PC, calling out Mexicans and Muslims, mocking the disabled and women. And he is winning. Barack Obama’s election, while it may have advanced our race-stunted society by leaps and bounds, has also served to deepen the angst of the white, male Republican base. For years we have heard them rail against reverse discrimination, affirmative action, and political correctness,” all code words for their terror at losing power in an increasingly inclusive social landscape; and, for years, we have ignored them, believing that they would just go away. But this is America, and in America, race never goes away. According to sociologist Julien Freund, “There is an essence of politics…There are no politics without a real or potential enemy.” Donald Trump is giving a voice to all of the American white male hysteria. The enemy is illegal immigrants, who we need to keep out by building a “yuuuuuuge” wall on our southern border; the enemy is Muslims, who we need to forbid from coming into our country and kill the families of terror suspects; the enemy is China, who we will really piss off with some “yuuuuuuge” tariffs. Basically, our enemies are anyone who doesn’t look like “us,” and by “us,” he means white Americans. At a recent Trump rally, a protestor interrupted Trump and his only question to her, which he repeated into the microphone three times for perfect clarity was, “Are you from Mexico?” It’s very easy, when people are worried about unemployment, to place blame. Hitler famously did this with the Jews. It didn’t matter that the Germans had just lost World War I, and that the Versailles Treaty was a consequence of that; the Germans needed an enemy, someone on whom to pin all their blame. Until now, Hitler’s rise to power was seen as a poignant lesson in what not to do; but Trump seems to use it as a playbook. A former ex-wife even admitted that he kept a copy of Mein Kampf on the bedside table. Guess what? It is working. It’s not the fact that we have spent exorbitant amounts of money fighting an endless war in the Middle East; it’s not that we continue to spend equally exorbitant amounts of money on our military-industrial complex. The reason the economy is down, the reason jobs are down, Trump says, is because of the Muslims and the Mexicans. Since American education became solely focused on memorizing answers to test questions and not on using basic critical thinking and analysis to solve problems, many gullible voters are buying into this. After all, it is always easier to blame someone else than it is to take the blame yourself. It remains to be seen whether Donald Trump can sustain his support through the Republican convention and actually win the nomination. His party is already in panic mode and is pulling out all the stops (and old politicians) to try and derail him; but this only emboldens his fiery base by harkening back to the days of Goldwater or Reagan, both staunch anti-establishment heroes. It’s like that fiery base of hysterical white supporters are so desperate for a mouthpiece for their racism, that they aren’t even paying attention to half of what he is saying. They want their power back; they want to be on top again; and they aren’t going to let anything as inconvenient and boring as the lessons of history stop them. If Donald Trump wins the presidency, we will all be forced to deal with the consequences of his trending global insults, either through wars, terrorist attacks, or tariffs. Trump’s election would actually weaken America’s stance in the world and hurt us economically. (Who’s really going to pay for that $10 billion wall on the Mexican border?) In fact, the only people who would prosper would be the military-industrial complex, because we would be in a perpetual state of war, kind of like we are now, only worse, because ALL of our allies would turn on us. Trump wants to be friends with Vladimir Putin, and we would end up fighting with them in Syria and Ukraine. It’s easy to just laugh it off, as we watch this Republican debacle unfold; it’s easy to reassure ourselves with “It can’t happen here.” This has been one of the least civilized primaries in American history, and as Marco Rubio and Donald Trump engage in veiled insults about each other’s penis size, it’s easy to shake our heads, and turn the channel. But this is not just another episode of “Real Housewives.” This is the future of our country, and this is not just a script. Donald Trump’s words have real, global implications. As we watch this debacle, we can only hope the American people heed the words of Bobby Kennedy and not Donald Trump. Kennedy believed, “The problem of power is how to achieve its responsible use rather than its irresponsible and indulgent use -- of how to get men of power to live for the public rather than off the public.” Hopefully the American public will realize that life is not a reality show, and that words do have consequences.

Hillary Clinton in Hell

Gloria Steinem once famously said that “the personal is political,” and that is exactly why Hillary Clinton does not have my vote. You see, her personal conduct has been at odds with her public declarations of feminism for years. Sure, she uses her appeal to women to get votes when she needs them, but the rest of the time, her conduct has resembled that of the most reprehensible misogynist, the kind who discredits rape victims, and makes any woman who dares to come out and challenge the “Good Ol Boy” establishment into a vile, home wrecking whore. I had to laugh at Madeline Albright’s pathetic attempt to shame women into voting for Hillary by exhorting us that there is a special place in Hell for women who do not help each other. Was she talking to women like me or women like Hillary? Because if the Devil is giving out real estate in Hell to women who don’t help each other, then Hillary must have an executive suite. Through the years, we have heard countless stories from women with whom her husband has had trysts; we’ve also heard from women her husband has supposedly raped or to whom he has exposed himself, and the one thing all these stories have in common is her gutless reaction. She is the one who tried to shame these women into silence. She is the one acting like a man and calling their characters into question. And now she is pleading for the votes of women in America, and beseeching them, as if she were a real feminist, to come together and support each other. Let’s step back in time for a moment and ask ourselves where Feminist Hillary has been all these years? Where was she when her husband was having an affair with Marla Crider, during his first political campaign in 1974? Where was she when he allegedly raped Juanita Broaddrick in a Little Rock hotel room in 1978? Where was she when he was sneaking in the back door to rendezvous with former Miss Arkansas Sally Miller in 1983? Or when he was having a 12 year relationship with Gennifer Flowers? Or when he was exposing himself to Paula Jones in 1991? How about when he was abusing his presidential power and then lying about it under oath when he had “sexual relations” with Monica Lewinsky in the mid-90s? Where was the feminist Hillary Clinton? She was defending her husband, threatening the women, and painting them as liars, refusing to acknowledge anything they said as truth or that her husband could possibly be capable of such conduct . According to Marla Crider, who found a letter from Hillary to Bill, discussing their future together, the Clintons had a “secret pact” that included both of them becoming president; and even before they were married, Hillary was ready to discount any other woman who got in her way, because even back then, Bill was a cheater. Hillary knew it and she married him anyway, her sights set on more grandiose goals than mere fidelity. “They are not the ones who can help you achieve your goals,” Marla remembers Hillary saying about Bill’s other girlfriends. “If this is about your feelings for [Marla] this, too, shall pass. Let me remind you it always does. Remember what we talked about. Remember the goals we set for ourselves. You keep trying to stray away from the plans we've put together. Take some time, think about it, and call me when you're ready.” Hillary’s bullying tactics went from the more subdued threats leveled at Crider, (showing up to Clinton’s Arkansas campaign office unannounced and making subtle comments), to outright surveillance and harassment. Juanita Broaddrick remembers Hillary grabbing her hand at a campaign event, staring directly into her eyes, and stressing that they appreciated “how much she had done” for Bill (which Broaddrick took to mean keeping her mouth shut). Sally Miller was visited by Clinton’s people in the 1980s, and they offered her a federal job if she kept quiet about her affair. “They said 'if you don't take the job, we know where you go running and we'll break your pretty little legs,'” Miller says. “They said life isn't going to be fun anymore - and they meant it.” According to Ms. Miller, “Nothing happened in the Democratic Party when they were trying to get Bill into the White House that Hillary didn't approve. She was the motivator, his bodyguard, and she continued to target me after the election.” Sally Miller has been followed, threatened, and has even lost a job because of her affair with then-Governor Bill Clinton. She believes that Hillary is the one orchestrating the attacks, and will continue doing so if she gets elected. Marla Crider recalls that Bill said Hillary “gets me started, kicks my butt, and makes me do the things I've got to do,” even way back in 1974, during his first political campaign. Hillary Clinton may be partially responsible for kicking Bill’s butt into the White House, but her motives are suspect. They made a deal. First he would win, then she would, which explains her unwavering commitment to him and the vengeance unleashed on any woman who accuses him of sexual misconduct. Apparently, Hillary sees Bill as her only ticket to the presidency. How feminist is that? Linda Tripp, who was Monica Lewinsky’s confidante back in the Clinton White House days, says of Hillary, “In her mind she would be part of a coronation instead of an election. This has been planned for so many years. I remember one of the quotes in my first week in the Oval Office which was the week after Clinton's first inauguration. Everybody had this little mantra, 'Eight years for Bill. Eight years for Hill.' And when I asked a senior person, 'What does that mean?' He said, 'Well eight years for his administration and eight years for hers. 'So this is a runaway train. Nobody is going to stop it.'” So, Hillary Clinton believes she is entitled to be president. Why? Because she “stood by her man” and defended him from all the women who were speaking up and telling the truth? Because she and her husband made a pact and therefore it has to come true? Neither of these are reasons to vote for her, and as Bernie Sanders continues to stun the nation by capitalizing on the enthusiasm of many women and young people, that realization is finally hitting home for Hillary, and she is getting desperate. Hillary is trying to shame me into voting for her because I am a woman like her; but that’s where our similarities end. See, unlike you, Hillary, I am a feminist; and it’s not just because I have Gloria Steinem or Madeline Albright on my payroll. I am a feminist because I believe that women really do need to support other women, and that rape is real. I believe that men who abuse their power and take advantage of women in inferior positions by using that power dynamic for sex, are not good people and do not deserve to be protected. I believe that a true feminist would have never defended her husband the way you did after all these years, in your blind pursuit of power. Karl Marx likened marriage to legalized prostitution, and you, Mrs. Clinton epitomize that perfectly. You have sacrificed your ideals for power; and you have become so intent on making history that you don’t even see the women you are stepping on to get there. You have prostituted yourself politically, willing to do anything and discredit anyone to make your dream come true. So now, as we watch you beg and plead, shame and cajole, even bark like a dog, to get our votes, I am on the side of karma, and that special place in Hell, where you will have to stare at the faces of Paula Jones, Juanita Broaderick, Monica Lewinsky, Marla Crider, Gennifer Flowers, and Bernie Sanders for eternity. Hope you enjoyed the ride, Hillary. Hope it was worth it.

Return of Kings, Donald Trump, and the Fear of the Heterosexual White Male

Fear is a terrible thing. It can cause people to overreact, lash out violently, and respond to hate-fueled ideologues spouting dangerous rhetoric in a quest for what is perceived as diminishing power. Heterosexual white males have been living in fear for the past four decades. As society has become more inclusive, these HWM have responded, in increasing and mind-numbing numbers, to more alarmist calls to action. The violent anti-choice religious movements of the 1980s and 90s, with their bombing of abortion clinics and killing of doctors, gave rise to such “back to the kitchen,” male supremacist movements as the Promise Keepers, which also spawned militia movements and increasingly xenophobic leaders who directed their hatred toward immigrants. The 2016 presidential election has seen an unprecedented level of support for this mainstreaming of hatred, as one of the Republican front-runners, Donald Trump, continues to receive support for his outrageous speeches and policies by an electorate of these HWM who are continuously being told that their power is quickly evaporating because of illegal, “criminal” elements from Mexico and the Middle East. As the frightened HWM take a dose of Pepto Bismol, they have consolidated their support around this candidate, whom they believe will magically cure all their ills by building a wall on our southern border, because, in Trump’s words, “They’re bringing drugs. They’re bringing crime. They’re rapists.” Now, usually American presidential elections, although always combative, have relied on a sense of decorum and fact-based argument; and although the rhetoric can get testy, the more megalomaniacal you are, the less of a chance you have… Until now…. 2016 seems to be the year of “anything goes.” It’s almost as if the American public, and the HWM in particular, have so bought into inflated stories of their impending demise that they are actually finding the most deranged voices around which to rally; and the “neo-masculinist” group Return of Kings is capitalizing on their fear. This group, founded by writer Daryush “Roosh V” Valizadeh, himself of Muslim heritage, prides itself on bringing back “masculinity,” by calling for a legalization of rape on private property, and fighting a war against feminists, homosexuals, the transgender community, and overweight women. They had planned to hold “tribal meetings” in 43 countries this weekend, where women, transgender, and homosexual men were not allowed to attend. These meetings have since been cancelled due to significant international backlash and Australia threatening to deny Valizadeh a visa, which caused him, in true Donald Trump fashion, to threaten to sneak into the country through its porous borders. What is going on here? When did our dialogue and passion for social progress degenerate into fat-shaming, homophobia, and misogyny? Well, one could argue that it has always been there, lurking in the darkest corners of traditional conservative movements. HWM have been railing against affirmative action for awhile now, even though they continue to represent the CEO’s of most major companies. But every so often, an ideologue like Donald Trump comes along, and makes what used to be hate speech a very real part of the modern political dialogue. It seems that these megalomaniacs get an inflated sense of validation, and invincibility, from any inkling of support they receive. Valizadeh has said, “There is nothing the media can do anymore to hurt me, and even if they paint me as a baby murderer, I will still gain readers because of it.” Compare this to Donald Trump’s comment, "I could stand in the middle of 5th Avenue and shoot somebody and I wouldn't lose voters," The similarities in the two men’s speeches don’t end there. Both seem to have a preoccupation with winning. Valizadeh said, “As long as my name exits the mouth of my enemies, I win, and I will continue to win.” Donald Trump said, “We will have so much winning if I get elected, that you may get bored with winning.” Clearly the only people who are “winning,” in this context, are the two men who are benefitting from the increased media exposure that comes with being a firebrand ideologue vilifying feminists as the destroyers of society. A cursory google search of Donald Trump and women will yield a number of shocking statements that the presidential candidate has made, from suggesting that Fox News moderator Megyn Kelly was on her period (because she pushed him too hard on a point at the first Republican presidential debate) to saying that Carly Fiorina shouldn’t get votes because of “her face.” (“Look at that face! Would anyone vote for that? Can you imagine that, the face of our next president?!”) Both Valizadeh and Trump seem to have a preoccupation with opinionated women, especially women who sometimes use profanity. The Return of Kings Facebook page (which has 12,866 likes) features an article titled, “Why Do Feminists and Social Justice Warriors Use So Much Profanity?” where they extol the righteous virtues of the “manosphere”: “Ad hominem attacks against people are comparatively rare in disagreements. And perhaps best of all, there is a great amount of social support for people who are embarking on ways to better themselves as men. The manosphere is, by and large, a portal of intelligent Y-chromosome carriers who have at least a decent amount of humility and class. Using massive amounts of profanity for the sake of being ‘edgy’ or ‘cool’ will not win anybody social brownie points.” Donald Trump has a preoccupation with opinionated women as well. He said that Rosie O’Donnell, “is disgusting both inside and out. You take a look at her, she’s a slob. She talks like a truck driver, she doesn’t have her facts. She’ll say anything that comes to her mind.” He also said Arianna Huffington “is unattractive both inside and out. I fully understand why her husband left her for a man—he made a good decision.” Apparently, to Donald, having an unattractive “outside,” is the same as having an unattractive “inside,” which is why he makes such a big deal about women’s appearances. (Apparently this does not also apply to himself.) Similarly, the Return of Kings Facebook page features this Chinese proverb, “We ask four things for a woman—that virtue dwell in her heart, modesty in her forehead, sweetness in her mouth, and labour in her hands.” There is also this from the article “Introduction to Japanese Girls,” on the Return of Kings website, “Conditioned to act girly, almost childish (when they’re happy or content), Japanese girls come from a culture that strongly discourages rudeness and arrogance in women. In short, the exact opposite of America… Coming from a culture where the women are taught to be big-mouthed, rude, and disrespectful, the American visitor to Japan will at once be pleasantly surprised by the poise, demeanor, and courtesy of the Japanese girl.” Not surprisingly, the Return of Kings website also features articles on Donald Trump; although they have not come out and publicly supported him… yet… So, what do we make of all of this? Should we just ignore the ideologues in the hope that common sense will prevail and they will just go away or do we stand up and expose the dangerous hate speech that they are disseminating far and wide? Martin Luther King Jr’s words ring as true in the present day as they did decades ago, “We will have to repent in this generation not merely for the vitriolic words and actions of the bad people, but for the appalling silence of the good people.” Our collective silence in the face of dangerous people will never be seen as a victory; for the dangerous people take silence to mean complicity, and they will continue to drum up fear amongst their followers. Australia is right to deny Mr. Valizadeh a visa, as international outcry has forced Return of Kings to cancel their planned “Tribal Meetings.” Even though we live in an age of greater equality and greater sociopolitical opportunities for many, Donald Trump and Return of Kings remind us that we can never become complacent; for there will always be those commanders of hate, banking on the fear of the “endangered” heterosexual white males, to sustain them and raise them to undeserved heights. We the people must always be vigilant.

When Humbert Met Lolita: Part 2

People.com reported that Bret Michaels was to perform with Miley Cyrus today on "Good Morning America." The promo photo for the performance shows Miley, with a skimpy shirt, pulled up to reveal her waist, wearing one of Michaels' signature cowboy hats. Michaels is seen smiling, with his inflated pout and his arm around her.




The article refers to them as "family friends," but we all know what is really going on here. It's the same old Hollywood song and dance, the "Battle against Age" that forces underage female celebrities like Cyrus to strip down and branzenly exploit themselves, while overage males like Michaels defiantly flaunt their diminishing virility.



This tired dynamic should bore us all by now, or at least disgust us, but it doesn't. We keep clicking on the photos of Cyrus exposing herself getting out of a limo; we keep tuning in to the reality shows where washed-up celebrities like Michaels desperately try to convince us of their still-relevant sex-appeal.



Maybe these shows comfort us and serve as an escape from the everyday problems of our mundane lives. Maybe if we see Michaels, still rocking in 2010, still attractive to much younger women, we feel a little better about growing older ourselves. Cyrus is titillating, an escape from the bills we have to pay and the problems we have with our own children. We can look at her and say, "Well, things could be worse."



But are these images good for anyone (besides the promoters making loads of money off of this double exploitation)? Shouldn't young women be afforded more positive examples of maturity than just another clueless Lolita, taking her clothes off for money? Why can't she be celebrated for being accepted to Harvard or for some kind of writing or directing exploits? And why can't Michaels show us how to age gracefully, without a horde of women surrounding him? Why can't he be celebrated for his wisdom or his business acumen? He did win "Celebrity Apprentice" after all.



Sex is one of life's greatest mysteries, the thing that defines and confuses us the most. We seem to think we can master it through studying the exploitation of others; as if a more thorough understanding of it will be gleaned by reveling in celebrity degradation. When will we finally realize that true understanding does not come from another reality show or scantily clad young beauty. True understanding comes from self-analysis and respect for others, even the clueless young and the undying old.

A Feminist Reading of Just about Everything

Caryl Churchill’s play, “Top Girls,” uses the trope of 80’s women’s liberation as the lens through which it views feminist history. The play features a character, a “modern woman,” who comes breezing into the employment agency, where she works as an executive, on a Monday morning, still ecstatically giddy over spending the weekend with her lover, while his wife was away. “It was just like we lived together,” she says wistfully.


Which brings me to this question: Does the modern portrayal of women in art contain any dignity, or is it merely the same message of grateful repression hiding behind a different disguise? The concept of “reality” shows springs to mind. The “Real Housewives” series on Bravo features a group of wealthy women who came into money and power through their husbands. “Kendra” features a young, beautiful wife and mother who came into money and fame through Hugh Hefner (and now her pro-football-playing husband). Is it hazardous to glorify these images of women at the expense of all of the other ones available to us today?

The feminist would argue, of course, that the media’s decision to glorify these women illustrates how subjugated we still are. These women acquired money and power through their relationships with men; in fact, it is because of men that these women are wealthy or powerful at all; and although they start their own charities and plan their own parties, these are more along the lines of “busy work,” meant to create rating-enhancing drama and lucrative tax write-offs (which, again, benefit their husbands).

An anti-feminist would disagree. She would see in this media glorification the underlying message of equality; for no matter how they chose to come into their money and power, they were still making conscious choices, a feat that represents true equality. Kendra may never be as famous as the man who discovered her, but she is certainly more famous than her husband. She is the star of her “reality” show, not because she kowtows to men, but because she makes all of her own decisions. People have the freedom to change the channel and find something more “feminist friendly” if they so desire.

Is that true? If we do change the channel, what other archetypes of women will be waiting to greet us? I thought about why there wasn’t a “reality” show about poor women, single-mothers struggling to get by, or teachers or doctors. When we do see women in these roles, they are fictionalized, decorated, and beautiful. What kind of “reality” is that?

Maybe I’m making too much of things again, I thought. Maybe images of men are just as shallow. Maybe it’s just a symptom of the times. Honestly, “The Situation,” from MTV’s “Jersey Shore,” cannot be doing anything to advocate for men either. The difference is, however, that there are a plethora of powerful men on TV. Powerful men are all around us; and they usually did not get there by relying on their wives’ money.

I would like to see the tables turned a bit: a “reality” show that features a group of young hunks with gorgeous bodies, former pool boys and gardeners, whose older wives are the bread-winners. Let’s watch the lively hijinks that ensue when their disparate personalities collide, as they use their spouses’ money and reputation to attract attention. Oh, and they have to stand out on street corners, usually drunk, in the middle of the night, verbally attacking one another, at least once every episode, kind of like “Jerry Springer” in Prada. Think anybody would watch it?

Which brings me back to “The Situation” and the fact that much of our society already does. We love to watch people humiliating themselves. Just look at competitive shows like “Wipeout,” on ABC. Men and women trip, slip, and fall off things, all in the name of money. When a society blindly chases profit, as America does, it objectifies everyone, regardless of gender. Until we begin teaching people authentic skills with which they can use to help others, we will continue to worship greed and money; and as long as we worship greed and money, women will go on being objectified, the only way they know how.

Playing Like Girls

My son’s baseball coach likes to tell the team, when they lose, that they “played like girls.” My son doesn’t even know what that means. I’m the one he grew up playing baseball with, throwing the football with him, and taking him to games. I’m the one he can talk stats with. I know all the players’ names and their positions, and I don’t cheer for teams just because I like their uniforms (Although I must say that the Cleveland Browns’ colors need to go).


Which brings me to an important question: As a single mother raising two boys in the twenty-first century, how do I explain feminism to them? It’s sort of an outdated word these days, and the concept has certainly changed since its heyday in the 1970s. Feminism today encompasses more than battles over birth control and abortion (Although these battles still do exist). Women make up 52% of college students and a significant number of the workforce, yet our pay is still lower (by about 80 cents to a man’s dollar). Women still bear the brunt of most household chores; and we still do not have daycare in the workplace.

When I engaged a woman on Facebook about the concept of feminism, she was quick to label me a man-hater because I advocated for equal rights. There was also some charge of wearing “comfortable shoes” lobbed at me, as she babbled incoherently about the cute stilettos she buys, with her husband’s money, in order for him to take out the trash. The implication was that since I called myself a feminist, I was a butchy, ugly woman, who hates men and wants to tear down all distinctions between the sexes.

We saw these same arguments being used during the ERA debates. Anti-feminist voices like Phyllis Schlafly, excelled in frightening women with dark scenarios of equality like unisex bathrooms and women forced to look and act like men. The epithets stuck. The ERA was famously defeated, and Reagan ushered in an era of uberfeminine women, reveling in their evangelism and their dutiful subservience to their husbands.

I don’t even think women today know what being a feminist really means; it means nothing more than wanting to be treated like a human being. If women would take a moment to study the not-too-distant past, they would see how far we have come. Not too long ago, we were expected to forego college, and to throw ourselves, heels first, into a life of service to our husbands and children, the middle-class American Dream. We could not apply for our own credit cards, but had to have our husbands procure them for us. There were no laws to protect us from sexual harassment, and very weak ones to protect us from domestic violence and rape.

Feminism changed all that; it brought women’s issues to the forefront of the national debate, proclaiming that women could be independent and intelligent and, yes, still sexy. But all women saw in the media were the bra-burners and the lesbian activists and the radical voices screaming that pregnancy is a deplorable, parasitic condition that we must overcome. This is not feminism. This is radicalism. Just as we do not judge a movement solely on its most insane expressions, we should be careful not to base our opinions about feminism on these myopic illustrations, for they do not represent what this movement is really about.

I will do my part to resurrect the movement, to convince American women that supporting feminism is indeed in their best interests; but I will not be drawn into silly debates about my shoes or whether or not I wear makeup every time I leave the house. There are differences between the sexes. Real feminists do not deny that. We simply believe that those differences should not condemn us to a life of subservience, a life not of our choosing.

A Smart, Funny One-Act Play (if anyone's looking for one...)

A Marriage for the Gifts



Characters:

Rat: a woman, late 20s to mid 30s

Dragon: her boyfriend, the same age



Act One

Scene One: Outside Rat’s house. Dragon knocks on the door and Rat opens, wearing a black wig and black velvet cape.



Dragon: (jumping back) What the hell? (laughing) What happened to you? I didn’t know it was Halloween.



Rat (crossing her arms, looking aggravated): Don’t laugh at Hecate. She’s a very powerful Greek goddess. Her symbol is the moon and she represents choices.



Dragon: Don’t tell me you’re becoming one of those New Age Hippie freaks. Is this more of that female empowerment stuff?



Rat: Yes. Why are you so threatened by that? Do powerful women really scare you that much? You know, women don’t need men as much as you think we do.



Dragon: Dude, stop trippin. Get your stuff. We’re gonna be late.



Rat: Late for what? I thought we were driving to Vegas. We have an estimated time of arrival, or something?



Dragon: Just get your stuff and meet me in the car. (Turns and walks toward the car)





Scene Two: In the car. Dragon is driving. He plays with the radio, turns his head from side to side nervously, keeping time with the music by tapping on his steering wheel.

Rat is holding a white rat, petting it and holding it up to her mouth to kiss it. She is mumbling things to it and smiling, as if she were talking to a baby.

Dragon: Why did you have to bring that thing with us?

Rat: (staring at the rat and talking in “baby voice”) Don’t listen to him, little girl. You’re such a sweet little girl…my little girl. Dragon only respects you if you’re a mythological animal, symbolic of strife and overcoming.

Dragon: Dude, it’s a rat. It can’t understand what the fuck you’re saying.

Rat: (turning to him) She understands the vibe, baby, the vibe. If you’re acting hostile, she can sense that, like kids do. That’s why kids who grow up in violent households become violent.

Dragon: Yeah, so what was my excuse then? Why did I become so violent? My dad wasn’t even around when I was growing up.

Rat: And his absence impressed you with a perpetual inferiority complex that manifested itself in your violent behavior and drug addiction.

Dragon: (looking at her and smiling) You think you’re such a psychologist. I fuckin love that about you. (He leans over and kisses her)



Scene Three: A cheap motel room, dingy walls, wallpaper peeling off. Rat is lying on the bed, smoking a cigarette, with her pet rat beside her in a pink cage on the floor. Dragon is standing by the dresser, watching himself do kung fu moves in the mirror.

Rat: Life is kind of like a motel room, don’t you think?

Dragon: (Still staring at himself doing kung fu) Yeah.

Rat: (Sitting up on the bed) No, think about it. Sometimes you feel like the Motel 6, and sometimes you feel like the Ritz.

Dragon: What’s the Ritz?

Rat: The Ritz Carlton. It’s a hotel in New York City.

Dragon: Oh. (He holds a pose in front of the mirror for a moment, then resumes his kung fu moves) Does this look good or do I look like a total douchebag?

Rat: (falling over on the bed laughing. She continues this until Dragon stops his poses and looks over at her.)

Dragon: What?

Rat: (Sitting back up and attempting to talk between peals of laughter) No…………. It’s just that………. I……….. (She falls over laughing again)

Dragon: (Shaking his head) You’re trippin, Rat. (Resumes poses in the mirror)

Rat: (Composing herself ) No, it’s just that, when you said that, I literally pictured a douchebag with legs, doing karate. And it cracked me up.

Dragon: Kung fu.

Rat: What?

Dragon: It’s kung fu, not karate.

Rat: Oh right. Sorry. And no, you don’t look stupid. You look great. I think it’s hot. You should take your clothes off. That would be even hotter.

Dragon: (Holding a pose) All you ever think about is sex.

Rat: No it’s not.

Dragon: Oh yeah, right. Since the first day I met you you were trying to get me into bed.

Rat: I was not! That was you, sweetie.

Dragon: No it wasn’t. I was an innocent student. They sent me to you for help in English, and you seduced me.

Rat: Stop living in a fantasyland. You love being able to say you’re sleeping with your tutor. Everyone is jealous of you, admit it.

Dragon: They are jealous, cause you’re sexy. (He stops his kung fu moves and comes over to sit next to her on the bed. He runs his hand through her hair.) With your wig and your female empowerment stuff. (He leans in to kiss her) It’s so cute.

Rat: (Backing away) Cute? What’s so cute about female empowerment?

Dragon: (Catching himself before he falls over on the bed) I don’t know. It’s just cute. Calm down. I was just trying to be nice.

Rat: Nice? You think belittling my personal belief system is nice? That’s so typical of you, Dragon. I don’t attack the things you’re into. I don’t make fun of your karate stuff.

Dragon: Kung fu.

Rat: What?

Dragon: It’s kung fu not karate. I thought I told you that before.

Rat: Whatever. You know what I mean. I don’t attack it. That’s what I’m saying.

Dragon: No, you just sit there and tell me how hot it would be if I did it naked. That’s really nice. (Sighing) Look, don’t go getting up on your high horse again. I was just trying to be romantic, pay you a compliment, and now I have to sit here and defend myself. That’s bullshit. Just give me a blow job and shut up.

Rat: Fuck you.

Dragon: (Laughing) No. I was hoping to fuck you. That was the point, until you had to get all defensive and shit.

Rat: See? That’s exactly what I mean. Men think they can say a few cute things to women, to appease them, and then they’ll get sex. Why do we let you guys think that?

Dragon: Darlin, I’m not speaking for all men. I’m a depressed asshole who used to shoot up every day. You care too much about what men think.

Rat: No. I really don’t give a shit what you think.

Dragon: (Laughing) You want sex all the time, but then get pissed off because you see it as a male control thing, so you’re constantly fighting with yourself when you should just be enjoying it.

Rat: It’s stupid, isn’t it?

Dragon: (Leaning into her again) Yeah, it’s all stupid. (Starts kissing her cheek, pulling down the strap on her dress)

Rat: (Moving away, causing Dragon to fall down on the bed) The whole love and romance thing is stupid! (Laughing) That’s it! That’s what I am going to write my Masters thesis on. Women have been conditioned to believe that their Prince Charming, knight-in-shining-armor is coming to rescue them, when really the whole notion is a sham designed to keep them passive. (Pointing her finger to accentuate her point) From the Bible on down, society has conditioned us to believe in this big lie. Love is a big fucking lie.

Dragon: (Sitting back up on the bed) It’s not a lie. Love doesn’t exist. Period. Just because people said it did, doesn’t mean it’s true. Life is totally pointless. So what? Accept it and move on.

Rat: So what’s the point of anything then? Why do anything?

Dragon: Sex.

Rat: Sex is the point of everything?

Dragon: (Smiling) Yeah. I think the Bible says that too.

Rat: (laughing) Shut up.

(Dragon leans over and kisses her and they fall back on the bed.)



Scene Four A booth at a coffee shop. Rat has her sunglasses on and a red feather boa around her neck. Dragon is leaning back against the wall, his feet stretched out on the seat. He also has his sunglasses on and is smoking a cigarette.

Dragon: Dude, you gotta love Nevada. Hookers, gambling, and smoking. I’m gonna move here.

Rat: We should go to the casinos when we get to Vegas. I love playing Black Jack.

Dragon: Craps has the best odds in the house. I’ve gotta go check in at the kung fu tournament. You can go to the casino if you want. Just don’t get shitfaced drunk and make me come looking for your ass.

Rat: I’m insulted that you would even say that! I told you, I haven’t gotten really drunk in over six months. I’m mellow now.

Dragon: No, I know. It’s cool. I’m just saying…in Vegas, dude? They fuckin hand the drinks to you at the casinos, for free! If they were handing out heroin, it would be really hard for me not to get fucked up. (Staring at the cigarette as he puts it out in the ashtray) Yeah, sex, cigarettes, and coffee are the only addictions I need anymore. So, where are we staying again?

Rat: The Bellagio.

Dragon: The whaaaat?

Rat: It’s Steve Wynn’s hotel. I heard it’s great. I don’t know. My dad made the reservation for me. He gets air miles on his credit card so he wanted something that cost a lot.

Dragon: Dude, you’re spending a hundred dollars a night so that your dad can get air miles? That’s stupid. It’s gonna end up costing him way more than it would’ve just to buy the fucking ticket.

Rat: I don’t know. I don’t have to pay him back. He did it as a gift.

Dragon: A gift for what? Oh no, you didn’t tell him we were getting married, did you?

Rat: You wish! No, a gift for being a wonderful daughter, who just happens to be a spoiled princess, only child. Be happy. It’s a sweet hotel.

Dragon: I bet your dad is real happy with all the guys you bring home. Have we all been ex-convicts?

Rat: Yeah. Or should’ve been.

Dragon: (Laughs harshly) Maybe that’s why you’re so bitter about love. You’re bringing home the wrong guys. Why don’t you try dating stockbrokers or something?

Rat: (Leaning into the table speaking with a delicious quality to her voice) Because stockbrokers don’t stimulate me. I love the tortured soul.

Dragon: (Sarcastically) And we love you too.

Rat: No, you don’t, that’s exactly it. The only men I really want are the ones who don’t give a shit. I am completely turned-off by too much attention. Isn’t that sad?

Dragon: Kind of, but you’re choosing that.

Rat: I don’t think so. I think certain energies are just drawn together and there’s nothing you can do to stop the momentum.

Dragon: What the fuck are you talking about?

Rat: Forget it, Dragon.

Dragon: (Smiling) I knew that about you though.

Rat: What?

Dragon: I knew you were one of those chicks that was used to having men fall at her feet. The only ones they ever fall for are the ones they can’t have. It’s a challenge.

Rat: (Sarcastically) Oh that’s so calculating of you.



Dragon: Yeah, I’m tricky like that.



Scene Five: Dragon and Rat walk down the Vegas strip, then turn a corner and walk down a lesser lighted street.

Dragon: Dude, I can’t believe you just won $700.

Rat: (Laughing loudly) I was so drunk off my ass. I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing!

Dragon: I told you craps had the best odds in the house.

Rat: I’m going shopping tomorrow! I need new clothes…and a purse. I need a new purse really bad.

Dragon: And you’re gonna hook me up with some nice jeans… a suit. I don’t even own a suit.

Rat: (Grabbing his hand) I love Vegas! Where else can you indulge like this without feeling guilty?

Dragon: I know. I feel like we just got married or something.

Rat: (Stopping in front of a streetside chapel, with the word “weddings” in pink neon) Wouldn’t that be funny?

Dragon: What? To get married?

Rat: Yeah, just to see what it felt like. Do you think it feels any different when someone pronounces you “husband and wife”?

Dragon: I don’t know. Wanna find out?

Rat: (Doubling over with laughter) Oh my God! Did you just ask me to marry you? (Hysterically laughing) That is so funny.

Dragon: (He looks uncomfortable at first but then starts laughing too) That is funny, huh?

Rat: We should go get married.

Dragon: And then we could go home and tell everybody so we could get gifts, and then we could split them and use them in our separate houses.

Rat: Yeah, get married for the gifts and then lead totally separate lives.

Dragon: ‘Cause then it wouldn’t even be like being married, you know? You would be more like my girl, my family or something.

Rat: You should take my last name. It would be really cool if you did that.

Dragon: (Laughing) I don’t even remember your last name. Why don’t we just keep our own names? We’re not living together.

Rat: But what about the children? They’re going to have to have one of our last names. Why can’t we take mine? The conventions of patriarchal society will never…

Dragon: (Excitedly cutting her off) Oh! How about this? The girls can take your name and the boys can take mine. Or we could reverse it, whatever. We could split it up, just to be fair. Oh dude! I can’t wait to teach my kids kung fu. That’ll be awesome!

Rat: I know! That would be so cute. I think I’ll homeschool. I’ve always wanted to do that. You know, live somewhere out in the woods and be that earth goddess kind of mom.

Dragon: I can totally see you doing that. (Leaning in to kiss her, taking her face in his hands.) So, what are you going to give me for a honeymoon present? It’ll be our wedding night tonight.

Rat: (Closing her eyes, smiling as he kisses her cheek and her neck.) Hmmmm, I could think of a few things. Those fuzzy handcuffs we saw at the lingerie store down the street. I could do so many things to you with those.

Dragon: (His mouth to her ear) What about the things I could do to you? What about that French maid costume?

Rat: (Abruptly pulling away) A maid? You want me to dress up like a maid? Why? So you can demean me as a woman? Is that what you think of me? I’m your servant?

Dragon: (Jumping back. He stares at her and shakes his head, laughing.) No! That’s not what I meant! You were talking about fantasies. (Getting angry) You think it’s so bad that I want a French maid costume? You were just talking about handcuffs, Rat. Handcuffs! I’m sick of your high horse feminist shit. It’s OK for you to want to tie me up but I can never do anything to you. I can’t even say anything without you biting my fucking head off. That’s bullshit!

Rat: (Shocked) I never get to tie you up. You never let me do that.

Dragon: No, you just fucking say it all the time. (Pausing and chuckling deviously) I’ll let you do it tonight if you give me one thing.

Rat: What’s that?

Dragon: (Coming up close to her, speaking low and seductively) I’ll let you get the fuzzy handcuffs, the whips, whatever you want, if you say you love me right now. (Suggestively looking her up and down) Say it once and you’ll get whatever you want. (He runs his hands over her shoulders, down to her waist, and begins kissing her.)

Rat: (Closing her eyes, taking a deep breath) Mmmmmm… that sounds like a good deal.

Dragon: (Still speaking low and seductively) Just say it…once.

Rat: (Backing away from him, squinting her eyes.) Are you just doing this to feed your ego? Just so you can say I said it first? Or do you really want me to tell you I love you?

Dragon: I just wanna hear you say it, Miss Ice-Cold, bad-ass feminist. I wanna hear those words come out of your mouth.

Rat: (Pausing for a second) I don’t know. It’s just an ego boost for you. Why should I contribute to your already huge ego?

Dragon: Handcuffs. (Coming up to her and putting his arms around her waist again, his mouth close to her ear; speaking low and seductively again.) Picture me, completely helpless, lying on the bed…completely at your mercy.

Rat: Oh, you are such a tease.

Dragon: (Backing away) Say it.

Rat: (Laughing nervously) I don’t know.

Dragon: Say it, Rat. Say it.

Rat: (Sighing) OK, fine…God! (Clearing her throat, stepping back, adjusting her shirt, staring at him.) OK. (Sighs again, then pronounces each word slow and dramatically.) Dragon, I…love…you… (Dragon says nothing, but stands there smiling, a mixture of mischief and satisfaction on his face. There is a pause as the two face each other in silence. Finally, he walks right up to her and grabs her by the shoulders.)

Dragon: (Speaking as slow and dramatically as she had.) I…love…you…too. (He claps and starts laughing loudly.) That’s how you said it! You were all mooooviiinnnnggg your mouth so slllllloooooowwwlllyyy. (Clapping and laughing again.) That was awesome though! You were all serious, talking to me like I was deaf. Why were you so loud?

Rat: Shut up! I said it. Now, I get to go buy those handcuffs.

Dragon: After the wedding.

Rat: (Laughing) Yeah, after the wedding.

Dragon: (Throwing his arm around her.) Come on darlin. Let’s go get married.

Rat: (Putting her arm around his waist and looking up at him, smiling.) Let’s go! (They start walking.) Are you sure you don’t want to take my last name?

Dragon: We already talked about this.

Rat: I’ll tell you I love you again. (Dragon shakes his head and they walk into the chapel.)



End.