Katherine Jean Lopez, unmarried mother of none, is a woman of strong, yet simple desires. She wants women to stop painting, composing music, and writing books, music, and slash fiction, and henceforth confine their creativity to gestating a fetus, much like a retired sailor assembling a ship in a bottle. She wants all non-knocked up women to taste Raquel Welch (Caution: Raquel-tasting is contraindicated during pregnancy). And she really wants a turkey baster full of Mitt Romney’s semen, and she’s willing to pay top dollar on the black market for it.
Taste the Welch’s Truth
Raquel Welch just explained it all.
I hope it was good for you too. Now please stop drinking Welch’s juice, because K-Lo would like a crack at it.
If you need a quick primer on the birds and the bees and how a culture has been misled, the actress once declared “Most Desired Woman” by Playboy can help you out.
I hope you brought a standard ruled Composition Blue Book, a Number 2 pencil, and plenty of tube socks and Jergens. (This is the second in K-Lo’s series, Celibate Porn® series, following last months effort, The Ascent of Boehner.)
Welch has written a book, “Raquel: Behind the Cleavage,” which might just stand out on bookstore shelves. We need it to!
Perhaps the book could be displayed in three quarter profile, in some sort of push-up shelf.
In an article that coincided with her book’s launch, she wrote: “Margaret Sanger opened the first American family-planning clinic in 1916, and nothing would be the same again. Since then the growing proliferation of birth-control methods has had an awesome effect on both sexes and led to a sea change in moral values.”
I agree with the “awesome” part.
Faster! Harder! Don’t stop!
Further, what she writes knocks the glimmer off the rose of so-called “sexual freedom.”
So Raquel Welch has deflowered the Sexual Revolution. That’s…kinda weird. And redundant. But awesome!
The concept, ushered in by the pill, she says, “has taken the caution and discernment out of choosing a sexual partner, which used to be the equivalent of choosing a life partner.”
Miss Welch believes human dignity would be enhanced if we mated for life, like voles, beavers, termites, and black vultures. In another helpful bit of advice, Miss Welch, who is currently on her fourth marriage, recommends using an Excel spreadsheet to keep track of your various anniversaries.
“Without a commitment, the trust and loyalty between couples of childbearing age is missing, and obviously leads to incidents of infidelity. No one seems immune.”
Perhaps one day they’ll develop a vaccine for that — hopefully in pill form, since I don’t like needles.
In an otherwise largely celebratory forum on the pill that appeared on CNN’s website, Republican strategist and book publisher Mary Matalin cleverly wrote: “(P)ackages of portable liberation ushered in a generation of women determined to break free from their inferior patriarchal oppressors. And how did they manifest their superiority? Their freedom? Thanks to the pill, by casual, drive-by sex. Whoa. That really showed those stupid boys.”
Clever’s the word. As Ms. Matalin (currently on her third marriage) points out, thanks to the Pill, women are able to enjoy sex without the fear of being shunted into a grim and Dickensian Catholic home for wayward girls, or forced into a hasty and unwise marriage at the point of a shotgun. Talk about the girls kicking an own goal.
The feminist movement has a lot to answer for when it comes its open and enthusiastic embrace of the contraceptive mentality, which interfered with a woman’s relationship with her own body, never mind her relationships with men.
I wasn’t sure what the “contraceptive mentality” is, so I looked it up. After the Civil War, when abortion was first widely banned in this country, women who feared they were pregnant, and who could not — for health, financial, or other reasons — afford a child, would consult a “contraceptive mentalist.” These practitioners, who often wore turbans and were employed by carnivals, would use telepathy to convince a zygote to commit suicide.
Of course, many of the women of the “sexual revolution” generation paid the price in their own lives, later finding that their best fertility days were long gone by the time they realized they wanted to be women, not women suppressing that which makes them most creative.
Says the single, childless “editor of National Review Online,” who “writes a weekly column of conservative political and social commentary for Newspaper Enterprise Association.” But that’s because she’s a rogue womb who doesn’t play by the rules! While you, little missy, should be up at dawn, harvesting eggs from your ovaries like a chicken rancher in a henhouse.
Welch and Matalin’s message stood in contrast to the spin that was predominant this Mother’s Day, which happened to be the 50th anniversary of the birth control pill, in some ironic twist of the calendar.
Personally, I find there’s much less irony and more synchronicity when Mothers Day falls on Died in Childbirth Day. And when both coincide with Perished from Septicemia After Botched Back Alley Abortion Day (which only happens once every 76 years), well then — Whoo hoo! Break out the Cold Duck and the coat hangers!
Among the parade of pill celebrations was an item from the AFP newswire which read like a press release from the group “Catholics for a Free Choice,” known more for being successful at getting press attention than representing anyone or any principled “Catholic” position. The AFP dispatch from the pill PR agency slammed the late Pope Paul VI for his warnings, basically, about everything Raquel Welch regrets in our oversexed culture, in his searing, prescient 1968 encyclical, “Humanae Vitae.”
In another coincidence, 1968 was the year Raquel Welch made The Biggest Bundle of Them All, which certainly sounds like an uplifting film about the joys of motherhood. Actually, it’s about a kidnapping, rather than a kid in nappies, but the anti-contraception subtext in clearly there, as it was in all Miss Welch’s movies.
Janet E. Smith, editor of “Why Humanae Vitae was Right,” among other books, and a professor of life ethics at Sacred Heart Major Seminary in Detroit, tells me: “I keep hoping common sense might have some force with the secular world.”
And what’s more commonsensical than sex advice in a dead language from an elderly, ostensibly celibate man who lives in the Vatican (which is basically a frat house — full of smug, entitled, condescending Greg Marmalards living on someone else’s money — except nobody ever graduates).
In the spirit of that hope, Welch’s comments are a welcome change. When the first “Sex in the City” movie came out a few years ago, I went to the most depressing opening-night showing in midnight movie history. The reactions of the young audience in their Jimmy Choo knock-offs suggested a little talking-to from Janet and Raquel might do them a world of good.
K-Lo was so eager to be depressed she went to the first midnight screening? Here’s a tip: if the title of the movie features two things you disappove of, maybe wait for the bargain matinee.
Welch echoes another pope when she talks about sexual explicitness in our culture. In an interview, she asked: “Do we really have to go so far where nothing is happening unless we’re getting graphic? Can’t we use our imagination anymore?”
“I hope you boys aren’t shooting blanks.”
Welch continued, “A woman is wonderful thing. We are a real prize to be won.”
I won a woman at the County Fair once. Had her on the grill of my truck for awhile, but she got rained on, then the stuffing started to come out.
“It’s not an easy role to play, but a beautiful and powerful one.”
No offense, Raquel, but I’ve seen your work, and judging by the results, none of your roles were easy to play. At least, not convincingly.
The late John Paul II called it the “feminine genius.”
It’s a peculiar kind of genius: smart enough to breed, but dumb enough to let your reproductive organs be remote controlled by the bishopric.
She also talks about other “traditional” ideas that have been out of style in elite culture. She embraces the “ideal” of a two-parent family, of marriage, despite her own admitted failings on these fronts. She emphasizes the different roles of the mom and dad and how they can truly make a formative difference in a child’s life.
I’m not exactly sure how the availability of oral contraception affects the way you raise the offspring you do decide to have. But Raquel left the father of her two children, and then married three more times, making for a total of two husbands per child. Pretty darn formative!
I understand why many in the media worked overtime spinning the pill as good for man- — and woman- — this Mother’s Day. But the truth is that motherhood is at the heart of what it means to be a woman
Said the — oh, forget it.
and the pill has helped deny that reality.
May I ask reality a question? What about women who got creative with their wombs, then went on the pill to prevent, or space out, subsequent pregnancies — does the Pope still want to excommunicate them from Womanhood, or is he content to just defrock them of their ovaries and let them be lay-women?
Mind you, you don’t have to have children to be in tune with that great gift to the world, but you do have to know it, acknowledge it, and not pop a pill whose purpose is to treat fertility as if it were a disease rather than a tremendous power.
Pfizer should stop meddling in the meaning of womanhood, and devote their resources to developing a cure for unctuousness.
To groups that have for decades insisted that they represented so-called “women’s issues” and interests, the truth behind Raquel Welch’s comments must be a bitter pill.
So keep preaching it, Raquel!
Just not in a Catholic church.
It’s a more liberating message –about the nature of life and love and men and women — than the feminist revolution ever offered.
NOTE: I started this post last night, then had to leave to catch a (free — I emphasize free) screening of Robin Hood (ouch). But when I visited Roy’s place this morning, I saw he also has a piece tracking the Sisterhood of the Traveling Hymen, and where, in comments, Jay B. delivers probably the ultimate rebuke to the red sash-wearing members of the Junior Anti-Sex League:
I “came of age” during the Reagan/Bush, AIDS and the dreaded baggy sweater era. Sex was, literally, sold as death. I’m betting — and this is just a hunch — people will continue to run the risk of having unmarried sex despite the droning post hoc morality of a pearl-clutching cluck and a bullshit “trend” piece which directly contradicts last week’s trend of tarted up turbo-sexed teens.
And if Death didn’t stop the kids from humping, I doubt K-Lo — even backed by the awesome power of Raquel Welch! — is gonna manage it.