Fred on Hooking Up…
Fred Reed writes some provocative stuff. I often disagree with him, but he’s smart as a whip and always interesting. In this article, he takes on hooking up.
I see where women, or college girls anyway, are honking and blowing most fierce about how they don’t like the way sex works nowadays. Yeah. It seems that the hook-up is in flower.
What seems to get their panties in an uproar is that they offer their favors to passersby like soap companies handing out shampoo samples, but without the intimacy, and then grouse because the guy doesn’t call them back. Why would he? Give me one reason.
What I don’t get is, why are gals b&*%ing? This is the world they wanted. They clawed and scratched and burned their bras and had court cases and threw fits to get exactly what they have. . . Men, or more likely their mothers, didn’t let them make themselves unattractive by dressing like hod-carriers and swearing like sailors. Finally men gave in and now women hate them for that. Whatever happened to gratitude?
When I was a young stud—well, young anyway—in high school, girls were still oppressed, which meant that a guy knew he probably wasn’t going to get laid, so he might as well find a girl he really enjoyed being with. The idea slowly leaked into his hormonally disabled psyche that girls were kind of special. You could actually like one. Sure, a guy made pawing motions because he was expected to, and she went along to a minor extent. But that was it.
So she didn’t feel used or hooked up with because she hadn’t been, and he thought he was da[r]ned lucky to have her. It was a concept of sorts.
But then came fem-lib. A torrent of really nasty [lesbians] with politically-significant hairy armpits started yowling about how it wasn’t fair that men could cat around and women couldn’t. Then the Pill shifted the paradigm into high gear. Girls could now Do It in relative security, and abortion, also championed by feminists, provided sure-fire back-up. There was now no reason why a woman shouldn’t say Yes.
Which meant—Oh bliss!—that she had little excuse for saying No. Sally Sue might have teeth like pearls and brains and perky [picture in your mind's ear a censor beep. I edited something here- AM] and a wacky sense of humor and actually be quite a prize, but sex trumps art. If Sally didn’t say Yes, she knew that Greta would. Women had commoditized themselves. It was a marvelous thing for the testosterone wads we think of as college boys.
The first objection is to the further extension of judicial dictatorship. Courts run the country these days. The will of the people is irrelevant.
When did you last hear of anything of lasting import being done by Congress? I can’t either. But almost every week you read about some federal judge, or that ratpack of pompous drones on the Supreme Court, who has (Have? This sentence is going to hell) defunded the Boy Scouts, or invented a constitutional right to abortion, or imposed integration, or outlawed the public expression of Christianity, or made it impossible to stop immigration. They tell you who you can hire, who you can sell your house to, what your children will be taught. They serve to impose what could never be legislatively enacted. The judges are out of control.
They’re at it again. Marriage doesn’t mean what it has always meant. It means what some over-promoted nonentity wants it to mean. And the country will obey. Roll over. Bark. Fetch.
And about sex in general:
I think it was Lord Chesterfield who said of sex, “The pleasure is fleeting, the position ridiculous, and the expense damnable.” He was being charitable. Sex is probably responsible for more misery and proportionally less pleasure than anything short of hemorrhagic tuberculosis. People jump off bridges because of it. They spend hours in meat bars talking to people they don’t like because of it. Its pursuit wastes unfathomable amounts of time. If the average man spent as many hours working as he did planning to get laid, the caloric output would upset the thermal balance of the earth. (Global warming. You don’t suppose…?)
But Fred parts company with the Ruth Institute in his hatred of marriage. He doesn’t seem to hate the idea of it. Just what worthless feminists caused the courts to do with the process of divorce. On that I agree with him. But I don’t condemn the whole institution. I just think that a bit of wisdom is in order when choosing a bride:
Ever drive away from what used to be your home, with your daughter of four streaking across the parking lot, yelling, “Daddy! Daddy! Please come back!” — and you can’t?Ever have your little girl of four say, “Daddy, can I get my birthday present early?”
That’s what you are in for, guys. Don’t do it. You’ll be suicidally depressed, miss your kids to the point of desperation, be almost frantic — and the courts will make sure you can do nothing about it. The ex will probably enjoy it.
Why do women do these things? Not because they’re evil. Cup Cake is probably a perfectly decent woman in her dealing with the rest of the earth. She’ll do it because she hates you, which is the normal outcome of a divorce. She’ll do it because she can. She’s furious because the marriage didn’t work, which will be entirely your fault.
And the law gives her every incentive: She will get the house, the kids, the child support-and she knows she will. If women knew they had an even chance of not getting custody, of having to pay child support, the divorce rate would drop like a prom dress and joint custody would suddenly mean joint custody. Women love their children as much as men do.
We have to change divorce law in this country.