Wrestling with Feminism
How I tamed the beast
December 6, 2006
Tom Gage
One night a couple weeks ago, I broke community standards. Yes, mister Security Man, you can come and assault me with your blunt instruments and your will to power. I admit it. I broke community standards.
Specifically, I fornicated. I went to bed with a notion.
It all started in the library. I was looking through the shelves, struggling to kill time, trying to dull the inexorable pain of my wasteful and meaningless existence. In fact, my roommate even said to me, “Six one-foot-tall Asian children could make use of the amount of space you are wasting.”
So I fled. I ran from the world, I ran from myself, and I ran from my roommate. I ran as fast as I could to the library, the only place I could think clearly. And that is where I met her—the woman with whom I broke the rules.
Her name was Feminism, and her perfume smelled of charred man flesh. With a fistful of righteousness in her right hand and a flaming spatula in her left, she looked down at me and growled. Yet I approached her. I don’t know where I found the courage, but inch-by-inch I drew near. My fingers longed to feel her skin, my lips lusted for her sweet honeydew taste, and my heart ached to hold her in my arms.
So I pounced –not towards her, mind you. I pounced out of the way of her Flaming Wand of Death. She chased me down aisle after aisle of books by T.S. Eliot, Friedrich Nietzsche, and Charlotte Bronte. Library attendants yelled at me to be silent, because I was screaming so loudly.
Finally, I decided I needed to hold my ground, grab my fear by the horns, and confront this raging bull beneath which many take refuge. But before I could make such an attempt, Feminism tackled me. Yes, I was tackled by an idea, a concept, something vague and formless - something that belongs in the ‘spirit world,’ as our friends from whom we stole the continent would call it.
Feminism and I wrestled to the floor. She pinned me down fairly quickly, and that was when I told her, “You know, beneath all those layers of anger and aggression, you really are beautiful and special.”
Her only reaction was a smack in my face. Needless to say, the fact that I ended up in bed with her is truly beyond my imagination.
So, if you really think that I had sexual intercourse with an ideology, then please go to the Welcome Center and tell Security that you have been smoking and hallucinating.
In the meantime, beware of the bottom floor of the library. That is where the womanly beast dwells. If I got out unscathed, it is by the grace of God alone. All she took from me was my manhood and my freedom of speech.
And my pride. Oh, and that little tiny bit of dignity I was born with.
Not to mention my testicles.
So now that I am a girl, I can embrace Feminism in all her splendor.
Now you go...
3 Responses to “Wrestling with Feminism”
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So… just what in the hell are you talking about? If this is supposed to be some sorta extended metaphor then I would advise you to stick to straight, unembellished prose for the rest of your career. Here, you managed to write a lot but communicate next to nothing, and the little that was made clear was offensive and uninformed. Though, I have this funny feeling, stop me if I’m wrong, that your aim in this article had less to do with a critque of feminism and more to do with getting the word “testicles” printed in the school paper. Oh! You’re so bad!
Maybe if you’d spent more time studying feminism then you do toying with testicles, you’d have written a better article.
Hey, Charlie Brown. I published that article and I stand behind my writer whole-heartedly. Tom didn’t write his piece for the Opinion section or the Academia section - he wrote it for Humour. And humourous it was. What’s more, I’m sure your over-the-top reaction will elicit nothing but laughter from Tom and from everybody who understood the article’s ACTUAL objective: to poke fun at uptight whiners like yourself. Also, check out my article in the latest issue’s Opinion section. I think you’ll like it.
Hmm…Very well written article…But I must say (since I’m a girl and I don’t have boy humour)
It was pretty gross. Definitely not something I’d hoped to find in Mars Hill…But if that’s what you
were aiming for, congratulations. I guess…