Tag Archives: women

You Ought To Be Ashamed of Yourselves

There is a very, very disturbing trend overtaking the nation right now. It is rearing its ugly head in social media, print, “performance art”, news media – pretty much everywhere one looks. It’s something that has been building slowly for the last thirty years or so, and I am afraid it will only get worse before it gets better.

It goes back to language. Some groups of people have, over the years, been determined to take a word “back” and make it theirs in order to take the harshness or sting out of it. Black people are perhaps the most famous for doing it with the “n” word. Women, more recently, have done it, if somewhat more quietly, with “bitch” and “slut”, especially after Rush Limbaugh called out Sandra Fluke for being, well, a slut.

Definition of SLUT (courtesy of Merriam-Webster Dictionary)

1 chiefly British : a slovenly woman
2 a : a promiscuous woman; especially : prostitute; b : a saucy girl : minx

If you have to get on national television to beg for someone else to pay for your contraception because you’re having that many sexual relations with that many partners, then yes, let us call a spade a spade. Your partners aren’t blameless, either. Unfortunately, the English language is devoid of a colloquialism of equal bite.

So which word is it this time, and why?

Shame.

1 shame (noun)
: a feeling of guilt, regret, or sadness that you have because you know you have done something wrong

: ability to feel guilt, regret, or embarrassment

: dishonor or disgrace

For whatever reason, the hysteria du jour of the Feminazis is to remove the “shame” and “stigma” from having an abortion. Women are writing letters to their unborn children and telling those babies, “sorry, not sorry, but I’m killing you next week”, writing near-romantic poems about their baby girls whom they paid a “doctor” to rend limb from limb. They are putting these out there and begging society for our seal of approval so that they won’t feel ashamed any longer.

They want us to be okay with the fact that they killed their children.

In a way, this is how I know there is still hope. If we were a society completely and 100% devoid of any moral fabric, we would not be seeing, or hearing, these stories. There would be no need, as there would be no shame. Going to murder your child would be like any other routine office procedure, like getting a flu shot. There would be no sorrow, no regret. The fact that there is gives me hope. The fact that there people like Wendy Davis sawing off the branch she’s standing on shows me how desperate these progressives are, those who hold up abortion to be a holy sacrament.

Ladies, there is a reason you feel shame.

There is a reason you feel sorrow.

There is a reason you feel regret.

To those ladies, I say this:

Dear friends:
You were given a precious, irreplaceable gift, and you chose to destroy it and throw it away. I am sorry you made that choice. For many of you, I’m sure it was a difficult and painful choice to make, and that, more than anything, is the validation you are seeking. Not that it was okay that you killed your child, but that you hurt, too. I am not judging what you did, for judging indicated forming an opinion. I am simply observing a tragic fact. The shame of what you did may never go away completely, for grief for a loved one never goes away completely. It is, however, possible to heal. There are many, many places and people who are waiting for you with open ears, open arms, and open hearts.

Much of what you have been told by those in the pro-abortion movement regarding pro-lifers is wrong. We do not and will not hate you for what has happened in the past. We want to help you to move past your past. To help you to heal. To show you that there is a better way than anger, pain, and grief. To introduce you to the beauty of life instead of the darkness of death. We are everywhere. Rachel’s Vineyard is a good place to start, as are any local churches or synagogue, crisis pregnancy centers, or simply Google “pro-life” and your zip code.

 

There is a reason for feelings. There is a reason shame has always been associated with having an abortion. One would have to have some sort of psychosis not to. Enough is enough. It is time to embrace what has happened and do what we can to stop any more from occurring.

Can you love people into truth? Absolutely. I think the better question is: are you willing to? Are you willing to look past their sin and see the creation that God made? Are you willing to reach out with mercy and love instead of anger and condemnation? Are you willing to just meet people where they are and care for them no matter how far they are from where you want them to be? Can we attempt to love like God loves? -Abby Johnson

 

 

 

 

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Komen We Look to Someone Else for a Cure?

Tomorrow is October 1, and tomorrow all the little pink ribbons come out. We will see them everywhere from purses to NFL helmets. They are the primary symbol of the Susan G. Komen for the Cure Foundation, the biggest breast cancer awareness/research campaign in the US. Or, as their mission states, “to save lives and end breast cancer forever by empowering others, ensuring quality care for all and investing in science to find the cures”.

A very laudable goal.

Breast cancer is bad. Cancer in general really sucks, whether that be breast, brain, or bone. Pick a body part. If its cells can go haywire, repairing and curing them is going to be a torturous process and the faster mankind finds a way to do that, the better. By now, I don’t think there’s a one of us who has not been touched by cancer in some way, shape, or form. Therefore, I cannot bring myself to disagree with Komen’s mission statement.

I can and do disagree with its methods, and as such, cannot and will not support anything Komen does. I will not purchase products with a pink ribbon, I will not donate to groups collecting for Komen, and I will not participate in any relays, 5ks, walks, or really anything having to do with the color pink for the next 31 days.

Two years ago, it came out that Komen was one of Planned Parenthood’s biggest donators. There was some initial outrage, and Komen withdrew their pledge of support from the abortion giant but soon caved to political and social media pressure  and reinstated the funds.

I cannot be the only person to find it ironic that a group that has dedicated itself to the elimination of breast cancer supports an organization whose primary offering actually causes breast cancer. That a group that is out to supposedly protect women from the ravages of a most horrid disease gives money to an organization that procures a procedure to kill nearly 333,400 children in the womb. In doing so, Planned Parenthood puts mothers at risk not only for breast cancer, but damage to the uterus and cervix (causing, in some cases, sterility), infection and sepsis, damage to other organs, and death. There is emotional trauma to consider as well – regret, anger, depression, guilt, shame, insomnia, relationship issues, nightmares, eating disorders, anxiety, and suicidal thoughts or feelings.

Susan G. Komen, by funding Planned Parenthood, what is it, exactly, you are trying to accomplish?

Not only is this the biggest abortion provider in the nation, but this is a group that supports sex-selection abortion. Which sex you might ask? Females. Girls are being aborted at a far higher rate than boys are.

Planned Parenthood is in our children’s schools. In the name of “safer sex”, Planned Parenthood receives $500 million in taxpayer dollars (read: what comes out of your paycheck every week) to teach kids about:

  • BDSM, anal sex, toys, porn sites, and role-play practices (Indianapolis, IN)
  • asphyxiation, bondage, whips, gags, sex shops (it is against local law for a minor to enter a sex shop; the girl in the video is 15), porn, “safe words” (Littleton, CO; receiving extra money through Obamacare for teen sex ed)
  • fetishes, “educational” porn, porn sites, kink (Willamette, OR)
  • whips, nipple clamps, ropes, “anything sexual is normal as long as it’s consensual”, role-play, 50 Shades of Grey, birth control, (St. Paul, MN)

These are just examples from four locations; clinicians speaking to a fifteen-year-old female patient posing as someone whose boyfriend had suggested “trying something new” in the bedroom. Negating the fact that fifteen is a little young to be having sex, how many of you would like a stranger “educating” your son or daughter, niece or nephew, brother or sister, grandchild, or cousin on erotic asphyxiation, bondage, whips, gags, safe words, and pornography without your knowledge or approval?

Planned Parenthood doesn’t need or want your approval, and when their “prevention” methods inevitably fail, they’ll be the ones accepting your money for her abortion.

So I will not be supporting Komen. I will not sport a pink ribbon this month, nor any other month until Komen re-directs those funds toward a charity or research that helps women instead of harming them. The American Life League suggests instead the Mary Kay Foundation (research for cancers that affect women: breast, cervical, ovarian, uterine) and does not award grants for research using embryonic stem cells or aborted baby’s tissue.

Komen wants to save women. Why support the foundation that murders them?

 

I keep dreaming of a future, a future with a long and healthy life, not lived in the shadow of cancer but in the light.      -Patrick Swayze

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The Real War on Women: Female Genital Mutilation

Caution: the topic discussed in this post is extremely disturbing. Some of the images below should be viewed by those ages 17+ and are not reccomended for children.

Yet it is children who are subjected to this barbarity.

I mentioned this briefly in a previous post, but I think it’s too important a topic to just brush to the side.

When it comes to men, it’s just accepted, one way or the other. After all:

“9 And God said unto Abraham, Thou shalt keep my covenant therefore, thou, and thy seed after thee in their generations. 10 This is my covenant which ye shall keep between me and you and thy seed after thee; Every man-child among you shall be circumcised. 11 And ye shall circumcise the flesh of thy foreskin; and it shall be a token of the covenant betwixt me and you.”

Not being male, nor having sons, this has never been an issue for me, even as a conversational topic. Some guys were circumcised as infants, some weren’t. Period, end of discussion that never happened*.

Then, when I was in high school, I read an article in Reader’s Digest about a woman named Waris Dirie, a model. I sat on the couch in my grandmother’s living room, absolutely riveted. The pictures that attended the article were beautiful. The content** made me want to vomit.

post-20476-1307374602

In 29 countries throughout the Middle East in Africa, there live 125 million girls and women who have survived the practice of female circumcision, also called female genital mutilation (FGM). Many others have died from shock, infection, and blood loss. According to the World Health Organization, the procedure has zero health benefits, and is usually carried out on girls between the ages of infancy and fifteen years. FGM can lead to problems including urinary difficulties, infections, cysts, and high newborn mortality. It is recognized internationally as a human rights violation. Practiced in areas far from centers of modern medicine, these are the types of intruments used to carry out the procedure:
FGM-instruments

FGM varies from the clitoridectomy (Type I, removal of the clitoris), to the excision (Type II, removal of the clitoris and labia minora, with or without removal of the labia majora). Waris’ story contains a vivid description of the most “complete” type of FGM – infibulation. Infibulation (Type III) is the means through which the clitoris, labia minora, and labia majora are removed or rearranged in order to create a seal that narrows the vaginal opening. The opening left is tiny, allowing urine and menstrual blood to be expelled a drop or so at a time.

3 types of FGM

Think about that for a moment, ladies. Think about the last time you’d downed that coffee on the way to work, and how badly you really had to go by the time you go there. Think about the sigh of relief when you sat down and let the floodwaters go.

Now imagine that you could only go one drop -literally- at a time. Imagine the pain.  Imagine the pain you suffer every time you get your period, when each drop of blood, each clot of tissue, must squeeze through that tiny opening. You may never find pleasure in sex – you would have to have surgery before you could have intercourse! Even if you managed to immigrate to a more enlightened country and escape that culture, you still have to go through surgery to reverse the damage. Chances are your clitoris was removed.

Why? Why was this done to you? It in no way helps your body. Nothing was accomplished. Nothing was broken and needed to be fixed. You only drew an unlucky ticket that placed you into a culture that sees women as dangerous creatures whose sexuality is dirty and must be controlled. Your virginity is key, and so sewing your vagina shut is the only way to keep your libido at bay. You are told that you are “clean” and “beautiful” after undergoing this barbaric practice, and what woman doesn’t want to be called beautiful? And so it continues, generation after generation.

Ladies, get your heads on straight. Your employer not paying for your birth control does not constitute a “war on women”. Stop listening to those morons like Nancy Pelosi and Wendy Davis and open your eyes to what a true atrocity really looks like.

*If any male wishes to comment on the subject, please do.

**The text of the Reader’s Digest article can be found here: http://www.fgmnetwork.org/articles/Waris.html
A
 simple Google search of her name will bring up other FGM links, including her foundation.

WHO fact sheet on female genital mutilation: http://www.who.int/mediacentre/factsheets/fs241/en/

Images found courtesy of Google Images.

 

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Words Have Meanings

This may come as a surprise to some, but words have meanings. Some words have very broad definitions and can be used in any number of circumstances. In my neck of the woods, the word “wicked” is such a one. “Wicked” may be used as an adjective to mean “evil” (The Wicked Witch of the West tried to hurt Dorothy and her friends.); it can be used as an interjection (“Kids, we’re going to the new water park today.”  “Wicked!”); and in true Bostonian fashion (which is really a general Massachusetts thing), a modifying adverb or compound adjective (“wicked awesome”, “wickedly brutal”, etc.) Wicked is neither good nor bad in this last case; it just demonstrates something is “more”. Sort of like “good, better, best”. After “best”, there is “wicked”.

Where am I going with this? One of the most popular phrases today is “war on women”, as it relates to pretty much anything the Democrat party says blocks “free” contraception and abortion-on-demand. A quick Google search for the term brings back 363,000,000 hits. Allow me to paint another picture of the “war one women”, with some help from our good friends over at Merriam-Webster:

war:
a state of usually open and declared armed hostile conflict between states or nations (2) :  a period of such armed conflict (3) :  state of war

Hmm. I like to think that of all things, my dictionary at least won’t lie to me. While tensions in the hallowed halls of the Capitol building can get pretty hostile, I don’t think any real brawls have broken out since  1858* or so. As arguing over who should pay for a woman’s birth control is really more of a philosophical difference than an issue akin to those that caused the American Revolution, the War Between the States, WWI, WWII, etc., I’m going to go ahead and say that the current “War on Women” is more hyperbole than anything else.

If we’d like to discuss a real war on women, let us turn our heads to Iraq right now, where a full-blown genocide is taking place. Oh yes, genocide. Everyone is probably tired of that word, since we heard it bandied about so much in conjunction with Rwanda (and no one seemed very interested then) and if we throw Iraq into the mix, people will just be even more disinterested. After all, haven’t we dealt enough with Bush and his mess**?

However, if even MSNBC is calling the ISIS and Sunni violence against Iraqi Christians a genocide, then there is a problem. MSNBC is among the least watched and trusted of all the mainstream news sources and definitely left-leaning, so if they are even jumping on the “Baghdad, we have a problem” wagon, I’ll go ahead and say there’s a problem.

Would you like to know what a real war on women looks like?

It’s watching your child get beheaded, and his head stuck on a pike in a park because his parents are Christians.

It’s being forced to give birth with your legs shackled to the stone floor of your jail cell while your toddler looked on because you would not renounce Jesus and convert to Islam.

It’s watching your husband hanged because he would not give up his Christian faith.

It’s being gang-raped, beaten, and left to starve for no other reason than the fact you are a woman.

It’s having to be covered from head-to-toe, because you are a woman.

It’s not having any control in whom you marry, because you are a woman. The men in your life – your father, brothers, and husband – make all your decisions, because some other man once decreed that women are only half as smart as men.***

It’s submitting to domestic violence, because your religion says that wife-beating is okay, even necessary.

It’s giving yourself or your daughter to a pedophile, because your prophet took a child-bride.

It’s not being allowed an education, or risking your life for one, because your are a woman.

It’s having your clitoris and labia cut off and the wound sewn shut, allowing only a tiny hole for menstrual blood and urine, for no reason other than to control your sexual behavior.

That is a war on women.

Let’s remember the true meaning of war and what our sisters and brothers on the other side of the world are going through right now. The next time you hear someone mention that idiotic phrase, be sure to tell them what a war on women really looks like.

 

*1858: the caning of Charles Sumner. There have been a few fistfights in state legislatures and maybe one or two in Congress, but none as epic as this one.
** I need a sarcasm font.
***http://www.answering-islam.org/Authors/Arlandson/women_top_ten.htm

 

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I am not for equal rights.

There. I said it. Let the grandstanding, mudslinging, name-calling, et cetera, begin.

Specifically, I do not subscribe to this notion that women are equal to men.

Likewise, men are not equal to women.

If I asked any kid who had a basic grasp of mathematical principles what the word “equal” meant, he could probably explain to me something like “If A = B, then B must also equal A.” Or, A is the same as B. If we’re talking quantities, yes, that’s true. If Annie has 2 apples, and Billy has 2 bananas, then they have an equal number of pieces of fruit.

Are apples the same as bananas? They are fruit, but the similarities end there. Apples are roundish, smooth, usually kind of shiny, and they come in red or green. They crunch when you bite into them. Apples are juicy, and they have a core, and seeds. Bananas are yellow, shaped, well, bananas. Like the letter “C” that someone gave up on.  They’re smooth, but they don’t have the same feel as an apple. Bananas are soft and mushy, a preferred food for babies. There are no seeds inside and even their nutritional values are different from an apple’s.

With those in mind, are apples and bananas equal? There is no doubt that they are both valuable foods, and the world would be a darker place without them. They are both good, but no, they are not equal. Equal in value, perhaps, but in this case, A does not equal B.

So it is with men and women. Men and women have different characteristics. We are built for different things. Modern society would have us believe otherwise, but it’s true. Biologically, right down to our very genes, a man is different from a woman. In the labs, they call this “XY” and “XX”. Male chromosomes are labeled “XY”, female “XX”. When conception happens, no matter what, the mother’s ovum is delivering an “X” chromosome. The father’s sperm will deliver either an “X” or a “Y”, and in that way the sex of the baby is determined. Makes it more than slightly ironic, all those kings who blamed their queens for producing daughters, when it was their sperm that actually made the determination, isn’t it? It’s also why there’s no such thing as “transgendered” or a “sex change”. A man can cut off his penis and testicles and take estrogen, or a woman cut off her breasts and have a penis and testicles built and take testosterone, but there is no changing the genes. What one is born with, one will die with.

Look in the mirror, and take a picture of someone of the opposite sex with you. Doesn’t matter who, although one of a sibling may make these differences more pronounced, but it could be a magazine model. Start with the lines of the face. A man’s lines will be stronger, sharper, especially around the jaw. There may be the shadow of facial hair, the 5:00 shadow, or maybe it’s grown out to a mustache, beard, or goatee. Men generally have a stronger chin, a heavier brow. Society usually dictates that a man’s hair is much shorter, cut above the top of the ears. Women’s faces are softer, more gentle. The curve of the cheek is more rounded, the cheekbones, though visible, not as heavy as a man’s. There is often even a different look to the eyes. Nothing specific, just a notable difference. His eyes will say, “I am a man.” Hers will say, “I am a woman.”

It is not surprising then, that little girls are drawn to play house with dollies, and even lacking a realistic toy doll, will make one out of whatever is available. Laura Ingalls Wilder’s first doll, “Susan”, was a corncob. While they do, their brothers are more likely to be out running and roughhousing in the mud with games like “cops and robbers” and “cowboys and indians” or anything involving soldiers. At an early age, girls are more often drawn to music,  arts and crafts. They gravitate toward activities that are engaging mentally as well as physically – ballet, gymnastics, lyrical, jazz, tap, and modern dance. Boys gravitate toward team sports – football, soccer, baseball, lacrosse.

American classrooms have ignored these basic differences in males and females and made education a living hell for boys. They are expected to sit still, be quiet, and pay attention indoors for long periods of time. In other words, they are expected to act like girls. When they fidget, talk, and generally disrupt the class, they are punished. Even at recess, if they get an outdoor recess, they are discouraged from running, jumping climbing, and playing any of the make-believe games I mentioned above. Again, they are prevented from acting like boys. Modern playgrounds, in the name of accessibility and safety, are all but wrapped in lambs’ wool. There are no trees to climb or dirt to play in. There are no mud puddles to explore. We wonder why so many of our boys are “diagnosed” with ADD and ADHD.

I’m not saying little girls don’t like this, too, or that boys don’t like music and dance. Fathers, for the sake of your sons’ future wives, please understand that women find few things more attractive than a man who can tell one note from another and is able to make his way around the dance floor with a basic working knowledge of things like the waltz, Foxtrot, salsa, et cetera. I know highly respected women in the United States Army, Air Force, and Coast Guard who I would definitely choose first for my “Live Through the Zombie Apocalypse” team.

What I am saying is that men and women are different. In a culture that is so wrapped up in diversity, we have forgotten that one, extremely important difference. In the name of “equality”, we have forgotten “compliment”.

Men and women are not equal.

Men and women are two halves of a whole.

A yin and a yang.

The Rhett to her Scarlett.

The Leia to his Han.

 

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The Real War on Women, or Part of It

The Democrat party would have us believing that there is a vast conspiracy by Republican, white men to take women out of public life, put them in a burka-like covering, chain them to the kitchen stove and reduce them to a baby-producing machine.

Hardly.

I will not argue that there isn’t a misogynistic battle that many women are fighting each day though, and it has zero to do with the above. Women are and have been breaking glass ceilings left, right, and center. Truly, how many of you knew that the first self-made female millionaire in this country was black? Not only was she black (and her name was Madame C. J. Walker) but she was the first child in her family born free – 1867, in Louisiana. I’m sure she had to fight for what she earned, and women today owe a lot to women like her. i think it’s safe to say that battle is pretty well won. Women really can be anything they like…

…unless they want to be like the women in the magazines in the grocery store. Or in advertisements at the mall. That’s where one of the real battlegrounds of the “war on women” is fought. Women will starve, pluck, dye, paint, and go under the knife in an attempt to look like Cindy Crawford. Cindy Crawford, who once said that even she wished she looked like Cindy Crawford. That ought hint at something.

There is hope. Never was I more amazed than the day I had the following exchange with my brother. (Names have been changed to protect the guilty. Or innocent. Forget it. I changed the names.) I wrote up the following on Facebook and thought it to be worth sharing here, as well.

Little Brother, I’m going to apologize right now, because I’m probably going to embarrass the hell out of you. But you shouldn’t be. I’m freaking proud of you, baby brother. I don’t know where you learned what you did, but I think it’s important and I’m going to share it.

I almost didn’t, because I know he’s going to blush. Then I thought about it, and thought about it, and decided to share it anyway, because NOT sharing it is the reason women usually feel the way they do. They DON’T hear it. It’s the reason I do, a lot of the time, despite what others tell me. This isn’t the most eloquent or funny thing I’ve ever written, but there’s a whole lot of truth behind it.

We were standing in the kitchen, and he was chugging down either a pre- or post- workout protein shake. I asked him to go to the store with me, and he declined, asking why I even needed to go to the grocery store when I could have that sort of deliciousness instead (my point exactly) as he flexed his biceps. If you have not seen Little Brother lately, his biceps are about as big as my thighs. Somehow, the conversation deviated onto women working out. Little Brother has two jobs, both in very, very male-dominated fields. He relayed the following:

“One of the ladies at work not too long ago asked a bunch of the guys if we thought she was fat. We thought she was out of her mind. She’s curvy. Like, normal curvy. Pretty curvy. Don’t women realize guys like curves? Or rather, guys like women, however the hell you’re shaped and we think you’re sexy? Photoshop is ridiculous.”

I almost fell over.

From the time we’re what, five? we’re told that if we’re not thin enough, if we’re not skinny enough, if our hair isn’t straight enough, if it’s not curly enough, if our thighs touch, if our stomachs aren’t flat enough, if our boobs aren’t big enough, if our boobs are too big, if our eyes aren’t blue enough, if we don’t do this and we do too much of that, then we’re not GOOD enough. We’re not worthy of love. We’re not pretty. No one will want to be with us. Be friends with us. We won’t succeed academically or in the workplace. If we want to be mothers, we fail. If we want to have careers, we fail. If we don’t carry this brand of purse or wear that high of a heel, we fail. If we wear glasses, we fail. We wear contacts, we fail. Spend the day in a tshirt and yoga pants? Fail. Prefer to read scifi over British Lit? Fail. Prefer British Lit over 12th Century Arctic Woman’s Studies? Fail. Like cat videos? Fail. Don’t like cat videos? Fail. Vegan? Fail. Carnivore? Double fail.

My brother, my 24-year old brother, a freakin’ cop who hauls grain and loves zombies and American history and bailed my arse out at the theatre more times than I can count, has seen through all that.

In this particular battlefield, we are our own worst enemies. Maybe it’s time we take a look around and realize that men are not the bad guys, but our allies, and that the ones we know – the ones that count – very well might just like us just the way we are. Warts, unshaved legs, flip-flops, and all.

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