by Donald Jeffries, ”I Protest”:
Pit bulls for propaganda
I love women. There is nothing more heartwarming than a kind word or touch from a real lady. Or a sincere smile emanating from a beautiful face. What used to be called “the feminine virtues” are timeless qualities that fueled human civilization. Someone needed to tame the brutish nature of males. Females were very adept at that.
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In my lifetime, traditional feminine traits have been figuratively drone bombed out of existence. Even something as time honored as cooking. Find the last television show or movie that depicted a female character who loved to cook. On the contrary, on television and in films, it is often the male who cooks, if anyone does. It’s somehow demeaning for a woman to do it. I really don’t like people serving me, but even as a young teenager, there was something special about a pretty girl fixing me even a soda, and handing it to me with a smile. I love the smiles and laughter of females. They are vastly superior to males in this regard. Whenever I was trying to woo a girl, I would try my best to make her laugh. I always considered that “winning.” However, if I were to try to amuse some fine young lass today, I think it would be a much harder task. Females have become what Rodney Dangerfield called a “tough crowd.”
I don’t know when things really began to change. When I was dating, in the mid to late 1970s, some girls had already discarded bras, whether or not they went to the trouble of burning them. Most of them still at least cooked, though it might have been reluctantly. Their willingness to engage in casual sex, unlike previous generations of women, showed that they were undeniably interested in men. Few of them heeded the toxic feminist message of “a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle.” They were nearly all fixated on starting relationships. Few of them put career concerns ahead of that. While many girls of my generation used profanity occasionally, they didn’t drop the F bomb into every other sentence, as they seemingly all do now. If a girl said “shit” too many times, it just turned me off. I never met one, but if any female in the 1970s had said “motherfucker,” that would have been a deal breaker.
I was no prude. I really enjoyed seeing girls in tight jeans. I much preferred that to old fashioned, Mamie Eisenhower-style 1950s dresses. Men of my era generally believed in equal rights for women, but we also undeniably objectified them. That’s surely part of my problem, as a begrudgingly senior citizen, in assessing the females who are considerably younger than me. I don’t understand the fashions. They started wearing these very male-themed dress slacks, complete with skinny belt, that served as some kind of sex repellant I guess, for any young males that haven’t been completely drained of testosterone. Now I see them wearing very loose, MC Hammer style pants. It just isn’t the same seeing a group of them dressed like that, strolling around a mall. That is if you can even find a mall that’s still open in America 2.0. One of the great joys of young manhood- gone forever. Not that anybody cares about young manhood.
But it’s the resting bitch faces that really get me. You know, the look that actress Kristen Stewart honed to perfection, before she went completely insane and began unofficially “transitioning” to a man. Think a prettier version of Ellen Page. Excuse me, I mean Elliott Page. Ellen Page never existed. Oceania has always been at war with Eurasia. Add it to my endless list of Thought Crimes. Now, the resting bitch face is hard enough to stomach when the resting bitch has a very pretty face. As you are still apt to find among the actresses in Hollywood. But it’s the ones on the streets- the common riff raff who still identify as women- that are truly frightening. Their faces aren’t pretty. But they are really, really bitchy looking. And the voices. Is any female soft spoken now? Dare I say demure, if that isn’t a forbidden word at this point? Modern females are loud and proud. Excuse me, I’m talking!
So when I refer to “Karens,” I’m not just talking about the irrational, wide-eyed women we see regularly on viral videos. The ones who insert themselves into every situation, kind of like the Gladys Kravitz character once did on Betwitched. Many readers probably don’t remember her, or even the television show. It happened long ago, on the long forgotten film sets of America 1.0. But Gladys didn’t dye her hair pink or purple. She didn’t have a nose ring. Not a single tattoo. And wasn’t really overweight. Very few of the revered females who shined in the days of yesteryear were. The stereotypical “Karen” is overtly maniacal, from the moment she starts her act. It is often unclear exactly what her intentions are, other than to very vocally virtue signal over some issue she’s seen discussed by other unbalanced women on television. Or perhaps in some ridiculous “primal screaming” therapy group.
With the appearance of “Karens” all over the country, in no real natural habitat (they can exist and even prosper anywhere), we are seeing the final eradication of traditional femininity. One cannot imagine a warm smile- or really any smile- coming from their bitch faces, which don’t seem to get much rest. Anything can trigger them. I was watching one of those videos recently, where a conservative YouTuber infiltrates a Leftist rally. That’s always entertaining in a twisted way. In this one, it was a “women’s” rally, and one middle-aged lunatic just kept shrieking “my body, my choice” at the top of her lungs, right in the face of the hapless YouTuber filming it. There is never any attempt to engage in “dialogue.” Often these women literally will not utter a word. They even will make bizarre buzzing or screeching sounds. It must be a real turn-on for those few males left with enough testosterone to care.
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