... here we go. This week Jessica Grose of DoubleX (that ghetto of Slate that's designated for the wimminz only) felt the need to rehash the same old sad pathetic false dilemma regarding female sexuality One. More. Time. 'Cause it was just so darn good the first time, that the 300 billionth iteration has gotta be great too, right?
For those of you who never paid attention or stopped paying attention so long ago that you've forgotten what the false dilemma is, here we go. The Wimminz must choose between Option A and Option B. They are as follows:
Option A: Take a purity pledge, wear a ring that implies some sort of creepy, incestuous pact with your dad, etc. Option A for the older crowd: settle down into blissful monogamous domesticity with Mr GoodEnough just in the nick of time before Spinsterhood (saints preserve us!) sets in, and never even venture to think of sex with any partner other than your One True Love™ ever again. And regret it.That's it - those are your choices. Sex in the City or the Duggards? Take your pick. Because there is no other plausible version of female sexuality. In the universe. One simply can't have casual sex without being on a drunken or drug-fueled or male-gaze induced rampage. Real women never have casual sex that they don't regret, and monogamous women never fantasize about casual sex. There are no lesbians or bisexual women. Having fuck buddies who are good friends but not boyfriends or husbands isn't an option. No women exist who do have casual sex, but not with every male stranger they run into. There is no middle road between chastity/monogamous domesticity and balls-to-the-wall sexual abandon. Not for women in our cultural mythology anyway.
Option B: Hook up with every man you meet - no matter how big of a loser he is. Have wild, animalistic sex with complete strangers at concerts and in airplane bathrooms. Wear ass-baring chaps. Go on Girls Gone Wild, and then fuck one of the producers after filming is done. And regret it.
Can we move the fuck on already?
This is my favorite blog post title of all time. I want to love it and marry it.
ReplyDeleteI bow to your most excellentness.
-arvan
Jesus, this is the oldest and most tired false dilemma there is. How is it that it keeps getting so much airtime? Aren't people just sick to fucking death of it?
ReplyDeleteDitto to arvan on the title. Best. Title. Ever.
Thanks guys, but I can't really take credit for this one. I have several friends who use the phrase frequently, and BeckySharper over at The Pursuit of Harpyness has been known to use it from time to time...
ReplyDeleteHappy Friday, y'all!
god this is so true
ReplyDeletegreat post
Serious pet peeve here:
ReplyDeleteALL chaps are ass-less. That's why they're chaps and not pants.
@Nepenthe
ReplyDeleteYou're absolutely right. I'm guessing Grose's beef with the chaps is that Aguilera or Spears or whoever it was didn't wear appropriate clothing under the chaps. And she reportedly humped the floor while wearing said chaps. All putting her firmly in the Option B camp, poor dear. Now she (along with all her fans) is doomed to a life of shame and misery.
I just want to add that the phrase "balls-to-the-wall sexual abandon" is absolutely priceless.
ReplyDeleteI'm a little late to this post, but thank god for it. I needed to laugh out loud at the end of this day.
ReplyDeletethink I'll go dig out my chaps now.
xoxo