An editorial by Victoria Bissell Brown published in The Washington Post who starts her insanely stupid article by asking:
Why can’t men organize to change themselves?
… Her article starts with a confession of spousal abuse:
I yelled at my husband last night. Not pick-up-your-socks yell. Not how-could-you-ignore-that-red-light yell. This was real yelling. This was 30 minutes of from-the-gut yelling. Triggered by a small, thoughtless, dismissive, annoyed, patronizing comment. Really small. A micro-wave that triggered a hurricane. I blew. Hard and fast.
Okay, first, if you’re in the habit of yelling at your husband for not picking up his socks, Vicky, no wonder that he blows through red lights. You probably don’t let him own a gun and the poor man has no other way to escape your tyrannical, insane blow ups.
What you’re doing is straight up spousal abuse, because you’re “triggered”. No? How would you feel if your husband yelled at you for no reason because he was “triggered”? Would you think that was okay? …
I am a grandmother. Yet in that roiling moment, screaming at my husband as if he represented every clueless male on the planet (and I every angry woman of 2018), I announced that I hate all men and wish all men were dead. If one of my grandchildren yelled something that ridiculous, I’d have to stifle a laugh.
Shame on your husband for sticking it in crazy. Shame on you for being an idiot. I ain’t laughing Vicky. Are any of your grandchildren male? I presume so since you don’t say “my granddaughters.”
What a thrill it must be to them to know crazy-granny wants them dead for the crime of being born with a penis. How warm-fuzzy they must feel. How affirmed. How empowered.
Or, in other words, do you give a good goddamn about how your words and actions make others feel? Or are you basically a toddler, throwing tantrums and throwing your weight around because you expect the world to cater to your every whim?
Don’t answer that Vicky. We know which one it is. And we cringe for you, but more so for your husband and kids.
My husband of 50 years did not have to stifle a laugh. He took it dead seriously.
No. He didn’t. He took it with the abashed, beaten inability to defend himself of an abused spouse, Vicky. Seriously would be packing his bags and leaving, or telling you need mental help. What he did was far scarier.
He did not defend his remark, he did not defend men. He sat, hunched and hurt, and he listened.
That man needs help. He needs an intervention. He needs someone to assure him he doesn’t deserve to be raged at and abused because he has a penis. It’s time to stop the abuse. No one would condemn a woman in the same situation who left or became violent. And it’s time this man realizes he’s worth as much as a woman.
For a moment, it occurred to me to be grateful that I’m married to a man who will listen to a woman.
Think how well it would sound if a man said: “It occurred to me to be grateful because my wife would listen to a man…” When that man was self-admittedly raging incoherently and irrationally at her. Just think about it. Again, that man needs help.
Read it all. It is sad if the left is pushing the culture in this direction. Too far.