Hatchet Granny meant well
Knock knock. Who’s there? The ghost of Easters past. (Yawn) What time is it? Time for cute little bunnies to wake up. I’m not a cute little bunny anymore. So that’s why Hef, uh, I mean. . .
What would an old duffer like you know about Hugh Hefner? My boss took me to a Playboy nightclub in Boston. What did you think? I thought the nice girls who bustled around in their ridiculous bunny suits would obviously do anything to make a living. If my boss insisted that I . . . Never mind. I don’t want to think of Uncle Melvin wearing a cottontail.
Although, come to think of it, rabbit ears. . . . I’m changing my vote. Vote? On the 19th amendment, from Yea to Nay. Prohibition was a total disaster. Speakeasies, Al Capone. . . That was the 18th amendment. Obviously not American history that got you on principal’s honor roll. That’s a relief. If it won’t put a crimp in my gangbusters social life I don’t care what it’s about.
How about a crimp in your right to decide who’s going to represent you when they decide whether you have a right to a social life? And who you can hang around with if you do. What?? Ever hear of Susan B. Anthony? Elizabeth Cady Stanton? Uh, weren’t they. . . No, wait. Jeopardy! Alex Trebek’s grandmother. Correct! You now have 2,350 points, but you didn’t specify which one was his grandmother so the other contestant wins. The other contestant? Joe Stanton.
War on jelly beans
I changed my vote to Nay because Susan said women voters would be kinder than men getting into saloon fights and that would make the world safer and sweeter. And she was right. Take me, for instance. So demure and always accommodating. Aren’t I wonderful? Pardon me while I double over laughing.
Look, you are wonderful and Uncle Melvin loves his sweetheart to bits. . . And I didn’t do anything wrong. . . And you, uh, didn’t (gag) do anything wh . . . wh. . . Say it or that’s the last chocolate Easter bunny you’ll ever see. Wrong!
Please, may I have my chocolate Easter bunny now? With jelly beans? No jelly beans. Punishment for liberals pushing chocolate Easter eggs. What?? Waging war on jelly beans. Everything traditional, like Christmas and the American flag. We conservatives know what’s up.
Neither snow nor rain. . . Then you know that women can’t resist strong men who ignore everything so they can rule as they please. And that’s why Democracies get overthrown, because women vote for idiots. Youth wasted on the young, voting wasted on women. Gaining the right to be heard so they can see that no one has it except for the hairy ape pounding his chest on top of a big building. Stop! What for? So I can swoon over Benito Mussolini and the NBC Orchestra!
The Force Awakens
Rey Skywalker is my girl. A role model for Feminine strength. Bah! Just like a man. Falling for Daisy Ridley’s looks. A pretty face in search of makeup. Gimme Dominique Francon anytime! Patricia Neal. The female trophy devouring Howard Roark with her worshipful gaze. A total ditz. Though I must add that she was just the opposite in real life, an admirable standup person.
Unlike the author of The Fountainhead (1943), Alisa Rosenbaum (Ayn Rand). Who used her male-besotted female ideology and talent for making stuff up to romanticize authoritarian psychopathy. The ugly side of human-ape nature that’s been gradually gaining adherents since the good guys and liberal Democracy fended off fascism in the Second World War.
Two versions of Femininity, one standing up for herself with character and integrity. The other ignoring everything including character and integrity so she can possess what matters most: her man. So she can own him. Consume him. As Vince Lombardi would put it, winning and owning her man isn’t everything; it’s the only thing. Or as Machiavelli would put it, neither character nor conscience stays these combatants from the swift completion of their appointed victories.
Fire in the belly
Guts taking over the world while ideas turn to mush looks like strong to me. “Strength” by definition can’t be measured by what it tears down with mindless explosives. That strength manifest in others has built up. Giving Jaws a rest while technology does its predatory job for it.
The true measure of strength is the force within responsible for Movement. I refer to the only Force capable of initiating every phase of Creation, including the activation of Mind itself. The ideal of Love-Spontaneous, whose every need is to share of itself. The thought of Abundance, with its mate. Its other half, Logic, whose boundaries it can’t function without. Whose own need is to complete Love with the discipline of Order.
To share of Abundance with their Child, known to others in its dream of virtual reality as the Olympian god Prometheus. “Forethought,” who brought Worth to humanity in the form of fire and civilization. Fire in the belly that stands for self-Worth.
The target of predatory will coded to steal what it doesn’t have and never will. The pretender of “strength” that’s the reverse of Abundance. Hollowness. An echo-chamber of mischaracterization. Of worthlessness that’s no match for the Mother of Self-Worth.
No greater Love
When integrated with her companion Logic into one complete Self, she’s her own motivation and her own protection. Having everything that wholeness needs, no “force” without capable of conferring what wholeness doesn’t already have or taking what it can’t live without. A Force for Good that can’t be denied. Much as its reverse-“ideal” of weakness, our hierarchy of character and integrity denied, would like its misguided embodiments to believe.
Cool! Then take me to your leader, earthling. I’m feeling it in your presence, my darling niece. Speaking to us from within our Psyche where our vulnerability dwells. The Child within, beloved of its Parents. Like a cathedral reverberating with the voice of Mother, all of Creation’s ideal of Femininity. Commitment to the Love and Protection of her Child so steadfast that none could challenge it. Where is there any greater strength than “I love you, I will always Love you. I will never leave you?”