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Thanks to everyone who bought a copy of our book, posted about the book, and/or didn’t sic the Blog Ethics Police on us for plugging it. And special thanks to C.I., Arrianne, Julia (and previously, CaliforniaDrySherry, Actor216, and Misty3K) for their Amazon reviews.Because of your efforts, we beat John Podhoretz, which was a resounding victory for the forces of goodness, as it ensures that he will have to wear a shirt for the rest of the summer.

(BTW, his Amazon ranking for today is 236,793, while our is 7,293. Although I don’t know exactly how this translates into book sales, since, as has been noted, Amazon uses some arcane formula to compute their rankings, I suspect it means that four of you bought copies of our book, while Jonah Goldberg and Rich Lowry tried to trade their review copies of John’s book for manga and that body spray for men that’s supposed to make women throw themselves at you.

And, as promised, I will be reading and summarizing some of the columns on my list in lieu of eating bugs. To start with, here’s Janice Shaw Crouse’s Broken Icon of Feminist Invincibility, which I dedicate to Julia and C.I.

Summary: Feminists really aren’t superhuman, despite what that old Helen Reddy song would have you believe. This is proven by the fact that Helen Reddy had a bad husband and a bratty kid. Also, she was a working mother – and, as we all know, working mothers have created drug-resistant strains of bacteria, thus dooming us all.

Excerpts:

Adults, as well as children, believe myths. One of the feminist myths about women is their invincibility—brought to center stage by Helen Reddy’s newly released biography, “The Woman I Am” (2006).  She is, of course, the artist who recorded the 1972 feminist anthem “I Am Woman Hear Me Roar.”

See, although Ms. Reddy sang about being invincible, it turns out that she actually wasn’t. She lied to us in song!

A prototypically dramatic PR blurb for her memoir states: “[A]t the height of her career, Helen’s world was shattered by the death of both her parents and, simultaneously, the news that she had a rare and incurable disease.”  This account is calculated to engender a sympathetic response and to tease an impulse to rush out and buy the book to learn the full details of the tragedy.  

The facts, as is often the case, are quite a bit different.

Janice apparently has uncovered information that indicates that Helen’s disease wasn’t all that rare, and that her parents actually faked their own deaths for the insurance money.

No, wait — what Janice really is implying is that the facts in the case are that Helen was a career-minded tramp, and so isn’t deserving of any sympathetic responses.

Reddy was born in 1941 to an Australian show-business couple and began her career as a performer by the tender age of 4.  In her late teens Reddy was briefly married to an older musician, with whom she had a daughter, Traci.  In 1966 she moved to America as a single mother with 3-year-old Traci in tow.  

In short order Reddy met, moved in with, and eventually married Jeff Wald, an agent.  […]  In fact her marriage to husband No. 2 began to unravel in the early 1980s, egged on by his cocaine habit and aggressiveness.  Reddy and Wald had a son, Jordan, who became so unmanageable by age 10—not that much of a surprise considering his role models—

Young Jordan’s role models were reportedly the divorced Ronald Reagan, and career woman Phyllis Schlafly

–that Reddy called her estranged husband to come get him out of the house she was sharing with her “boyfriend.”  

So much for the Roaring Woman’s “invincibility.”

I hope all of you who believed that everything sung by a pop star was literally true now feel really stupid.

The realities facing the average unmarried mom make her anything but invincible, no matter how energetic, gifted, famous or heroic she is.  What does the average unmarried mother—without the income from several hit Gold records—face in trying to provide for herself and her children? 

Whatever it is, it’s not nearly enough! For while life is certainly hard for the uneducated, shiftless little floozies and their bastards, we shouldn’t feel any compassion towards them — after all, they could have had Janice’s life of ease and privilege, if only they had been better people.

Now, on to how working mothers have unleashed the Andromeda Strain upon humanity.

When, not if, a child comes down with some infection—not a particularly rare event in the life of a small child, particularly those being exposed to many other children in the typical child-care or pre-school setting—even those women whose health care and child care are fully funded by the government have a problem.  The average low-income, working, unmarried mother with a sick child often has no option but to take time off from work.  

Doctors have witnessed a flood of working mothers demanding antibiotics for their children in order to get them readmitted to day care as quickly as possible.  Dr. Michael Blum, medical officer in the Food and Drug Administration’s division of anti-infective drug products, says, “Resistance [has] increased to a number of commonly used antibiotics, possibly related to overuse of antibiotics. In the 1990s, we’ve come to a point for certain infections that we don’t have agents available.”

Thus the average low-income unmarried mother is highly vulnerable when facing a sick child.

The bitches! It’s just like Dr. Blum said: working mothers and their selfish demands have ruined antibiotics for the rest of us!

And it’s not like these poor, slutty women are even good workers, as evidenced by the fact many of aren’t even employed, possibly because they choose to stay home and care for their children – which should be an option reserved only for middle-class, married women!

And that vulnerability tends to make unmarried mothers in general less reliable workers in comparison to women without children or to married women with a spouse who is willing and able to help juggle family responsibilities. The unemployment rates of women with children under 6 years of age broken down by marital status clearly reflect this fact.  From 1980 to 2005, the unemployment rate of single (never-married) mothers of children under 6 has been almost four times higher than that of married mothers; similarly the unemployment rate of divorced, separated and widowed mothers has been a little over twice that of mothers who are married.

I’m not sure how the unemployment rates clearly reflect the fact that unmarried women make less reliable workers, but Janice, a former Bush speechwriter, has a Ph.D. in Communication Theory, so I’m sure she’s right in her claim.  

Despite the Hollywood myths and the feminist rhetoric, being a mother of small children is a vulnerable time for women, and the presence and support of a husband is vital to the welfare of both the mother and her children.

And that’s why the lyrics to Helen Reddy’s song should be changed to read as follows:

Oh yes, I’m a ditz, but I don’t need a brain.

‘Cause I paid the price, and captured me a man.

If I have to, I can do very little.

I am weak. I am vincible. I am married woman!

Maybe Janice will sing it for us some time.

31 Responses to “Thanks! Now, On to the Mopping”

I’m so glad that conservatives like Janice have taken on the vital task of busting the myth that pop songs are God’s honest truth. I look forward to future Janice columns in which she proves that Jennifer Lopez is not just Jenny from the block and Michael Jackson is the father of Billie Jean’s child.

But Janice’s true crowning glory will be the column that proves conclusively that working mothers are the fiends responsible for those icky sponge mops that nearly destroyed her marriage. Oh, the depravity of those women who aren’t Janice!

Yeah, and Janice is seriously concerned about the health of our children, which is why she’s campaigning to keep them from getting the HPV vaccine.

Meanwhile, the FDA says antibiotic resistance is being caused by drugs used to treat humans being used in livestock feed, but what the fuck do they know. Their degrees are in, you know, science. You need Dr. Janice’s background in communications to understand this shit.

I was, however, amused to discover that the “think tank” of CWA is called the Beverly LaHaye Institute, which is pretty much perfect.

you know, sophronia, Janice has been running her own business for many, many years. I’m thinking she outsources her mopping.

Must be nice if you can arrange for your husband to get his headship on with the maid while you’re at work.

Wait. Janice’s solution to the myriad problems faced by poor, single mothers is… to marry ‘em off to the first kiving man who walks through the door?!?
Oh, yeah. That’d work out beautiful! Say one of these women were forced to marry me. Would her little family be better off, other than that the kids would gain a dog to torment? I’m thinkin’… pretty much “no.” I pretty much make *no* money, and what little I do make is so spoken for that it’s not even funny. Plus, I hate kids, so I doubt they’d turn out well if *I* had some influence on their lives. Plus, I’m guessing that mama would be out trampin’ about in no time, once sh found out that I have a strict “no sex with women” policy. ‘Course, I’d be out there cheating away as well. Maybe we could find a bisexual poolboy that would keep us both happy… but I doubt it. At least I wouldn’t be knocking up mama again, ‘cos that’s the last thing she needs. There is the risk that some hetero horndog might do it–after all, it’s happened before. Not too much “positive” there, huh? Can This Fictitious Marriage Be Saved®?

Julia is both brilliant and faster than I am.

Of course, parents demanding antibiotics for viruses their children have has been going on as long as there’ve been antibiotics. And, yes, they’re often mothers, because fathers rarely take the sick kids to the doctor.

Meanwhile, the government shows no indication of regulating antibiotic overuse in livestock (which is often provided not because the animals are sick but because they might get sick, or worse, because it makes them fatter faster). We’re now using massive antibiotic doses in fish farming, too.

The government also shows no indication of regulating “antibacterial” substances which are these days included in everything from soap to dogtoys.

What they *do* seem to be doing is letting people work more hours to make ends meet rather than raising the minimum wage, letting for-profit medical centers shove patients through at a rate of twenty an hour per doctor, killing science funding both for studies on the effects of antibiotic overuse and in schools, encouraging small and would-be organic farmers to use more and more technology in order to qualify for loans (including antibiotics), encouraging the creation of more and more factory farms while stripping away any money for inspection and enforcement of what have become captive regulatory agencies, and allowing the destruction of natural fish runs which leads to poorly-regulated fish farming.

That would be your string-mop providing free market championing agribusiness beholden anti-regulation GOP government, Janice. In other words, shut up.

And I say that as someone with an antibiotic resistent sinus infection.

Marq, if worse comes to worst, and Janice institutes a ring-check program, we can get married and have neither sex nor kids. If it helps, I have a completely liberal open-relationship policy.

“In case you’ve been living on another planet, here are the lyrics…”

Or, you know, in case you’re say, under 50, or much over 50, or possessed of enough sense or musical taste that you’ve avoided both the song and the rest of Ms Reddy’s oeuvre, or if you actually enjoyed it at the time but later thought better of it, or if you’d been subjected to it against your will and required years of therapy to get it out of your nightmares, or…

Doghouse, I’m pretty sure there’s a good reason Janice reached for “living on another planet”.

Perhaps if we better educated people on evolution they would stop using some much antibotics. But if we did that, then everyone would go out to have full time orgies like us evil secularist and we don’t have enough lube and condoms for all those people.

Actually, I kinda liked Helen Reddy, but I was more partial to her Insane Woman Trilogy-”Delta Dawn”, “Ruby Red Dress” and “Angie Baby”-three different songs about women who completely snap after a man behaves like an asshole.
Granted, “Angie Baby” was supposedly about some freaky supernatural occurance, but I prefer to think Angie just killed the guy and buried him under the house. But then again, I’m a hopeless romantic. :)

What the…? Your book doesn’t include the review of The Black Hole. Damn. Well, I’m sure my friend will still find plenty to enjoy when I give her a copy on Xmas.

well, my stay at home mom used to take me to a Dr who thought that a dose of penicillin was the cure for everything, luckily she had enough sense to figure out that it was overkill most of the time so we switched doctors pretty soon

“the average low-income unmarried mother is highly vulnerable when facing a sick child.”

I hate to break it to her, but so is the average low-income MARRIED mother. And even the average MIDDLE-income married mother.

Just curious — as long as ole Janice thinks its OK to pick on Reddy’s personal life to prove her point — what’s up with Janice’s personal life. Is she married? Having kids? Does writing her column take her away from her kids? Does she employ a nanny, or put her kids in daycare? How are her kids turning out? How’s her marriage, anyway? Does she cook dinner for her husband?

C’mon, it’s all fair game.

Yeah, really, let’s attack a 65 year old woman whose life didn’t turn out perfectly. Let’s see-she got saddled with a troubled kid and druggie husband. Big deal! Janice had to use a mop she didn’t like for 20 years! Now THAT’S suffering!

But if we did that, then everyone would go out to have full time orgies like us evil secularist and we don’t have enough lube and condoms for all those people.

Um . . . can I get an invite?

I love D Sidhe’s long and ranty posts!

Hey, here’s the link to Helen Reddy’s official website:
http://www.helenreddy.com/
(there IS a “sound off” option, just so you know.)
Click on “Reddy Recommends”, and you might…just MIGHT…get an idea of why Janice feels the need to devote a column about her.

I just love antibiotic-resistant bacterial infections. Just LOVE ‘em! A couple of summers ago, I contracted a nice case of MRSA, which, as it turned out, was immune to every antibiotic in existence, with the possible exception of two. Fortunately for me, the first of the two antibiotics worked, ’cause one of the side effects of untreated MRSA is death. And since strep-G has already nearly killed me in the last decade, I wasn’t too fond of the idea. Nobody can convince *me* that micro-organisms, at least, are not evolving.

Thank you, BTW.

Marq, on second thought, maybe we should stay away from each other. My sinus infection is still bringing me the joy that only comes from a day-by-day awareness of the wonders of evolution, and you seem to have that covered. Instead, when Janice comes around to round up all the unmarried boys and girls and marry them off like some sort of eighth grade home ec course gone horribly awry, we can all grab (in)appropriate partners and commence to secular orgyizin’ right in front of her, and God, and our little signed eggs, till she goes away. She might even disintegrate. Someone should bring a camera.

“Actor216“?

Humph! *turning on heel*

You know married, middle-class mothers not employed outside the home demand antibiotics for their kids too. Bitches.

Whoo hoo! I was mentioned on the front page of world ‘o crap. It’s almost like being famous, yet still anonymous. As for Janice, I look forward to her next column where she blames gays for flesh-eating bacteria and ebola.

In other news, our intrepid researchers have uncovered conclusive evidence that Whitney Houston is in fact only one woman, and much of “it” is not now and never has been in her.

Ah, but what about Chaka Khan? I mean, I have this Jr. High School memory of catching an episode of “The Midnight Special” that had a video of her version of the song, and it appeared as though there was more than one of her. That wasn’t REAL? Gosh, you can’t believe ANYTHING you see on tv…I’m so disillusioned.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ve been horribly remiss, but I’m more than half-finished with reading the book, and as soon as I do, I am SOOOOO gonna blow everybody off of the front page of BlondeSense with a huge raving review of “BLTBM”!!!!!!

And yes, I’ve missed you all, but it was Bill S. who inadvertently dragged me back today — sneak li’l bastard that he is, he dropped in on me over at BS Central, and triggered so many fond memories… and no, I’m not talking about the ones at Chuck E. Cheese, believe it or not.

Anyway, there’s no excuse for my months-long neglect, and there’s no way to appropriately express my remorse, but I’m still trying to get my re-broken back re-fixed (if it’s possible on Medicare, with neocon fascist carpetbaggers for doctors around here), but I promise, I will try harder to get back here. I really did miss all of y’all.

And I fucking LOOOOOOVVVVVE THE BOOK!!!!!! Just when life sucks the worst, a package arrives, and S.Z. & Scott have made me laugh OUT LOUD at a time in my life when I figured that I’d forgotten how to do that. SO many great lines, I don’t know how I’m going to quote them all in the review without basically plagerising the book!

Anybody around here who doesn’t have it yet, GET IT! I never did really get into the movie reviews/didactics on the old site, but in book form, for some reason, they are completely ADDICTIVE. I absofuckinglutely LOVE THIS BOOK!

And I love y’all. Believe it or not.

I am chattel; see me slave
for some G-O-Pig named Dave.
I was born to cook and clean and wash and tote!
Keeps me barefoot and P-G,
Makes me scrub his BVDs!
Says I never should have been allowed to vote!
Oh, yes – my mind’s
really vacant once again.
I take four kinds
of pills to calm me down and then,
if I had a clue,
I’d pack my bags and flee!
But I’m not strong.
I’m so convince-able
I am DOORMAT!
And that’s the life for me!

So Britney Spears is not a girl, not yet a woman? Interesting…

(Or as my friends like to sing, “I’m not a girl… still need more hormones…”)

GREAT job, Realist. I nominate you to do the songs for the musical version of “Mad at My Mop: A Story of Anger, Waxy Buildup, and MURDER!”

Ooh! Could we get that ols song whose chorus goes like:

R-A-G-G
M-O-P-P
Ragmop!

…in that musical somewheres?

Hey, Annti! Longtime, no scream (at least in this neck o’ the woods). That back thing sounds, well, real unpleasant. Wish it was your namesake instead of you.

From your lips to the Fates’ ears, Marq.

But considering that shim is probably chauffered around in giant steel Hummers (also known as shim’s RESUME’!), a mere rear-ending by an old hoopty pickup truck (that’s what broke my back the first time) probably wouldn’t make a dent.

Even if we hit shim directly WITH the hummer, that solid-concrete skull would damage the vehicle more than it would the shrieking harpie.

(SHIM, not me, you twerps!)

And I know, I know, I’ve been terribly remiss in my W’OC duties, but since I unloaded the b/f, I’ve got a bit more time to myself, so I hope to be around more often.

So does that mean it also isn’t the end of the world as we know it? Cuz right up until Janice put the world on notice that pop songs might not reflect absolute truth, I did feel fine. Damn her!

As a working mom in a low-income household, I would appreciate it if Janice would kindly STFU about the difficulties sick children present to our employers. She doesn’t care that we are doing the right thing by NOT sending our kids to school to spread their ick, then waiting until the school calls to tell us to take our toxic spawn home, so we can seem surprised by this “emergency” call from the school. No, we’re to blame for all the OTHER people who send their children to school when they’re ill, thus infecting our children. God forbid we all actually accept that kids get sick and parents have to take care of them.

And for the record, you can have a husband who is yet unable to go get the kids because he’s doing straight commission sales (tip your Schwan’s guys, please…), or driving a truck, or working at a factory where bathroom breaks are monitored and everyone knows that if you leave the line to tend to your family there are plenty of people waiting just outside who will be in your place when you get back, FMLA be damned. Sometimes, in the real world, there are complex situations that affect what individuals need to do. Janice can come on over to my house and I’ll introduce her to my husband, who not only bought but actually uses the damned mop.

I cannot believe how rude this site is. Helen Reddy was a decent singer who entire musical catalogue is not about feminism. She sold over 25 million records, that must say something. Feminism was taking off in the 70′s and she embraced it. As a man, I think women deserved the song — and besides it sounds like most of the people who responded on this website are pretty bitter. It’s a shame that one song can make people feel so bad about their lives when really they have no one to blame but themself.

Something to say?