WARNING: Post may cause blindness or death
Noted wingnut John Hawkins has some Romantic Advice for the Ladies.
(This is the most terrifying sentence I have ever written, and likely the most terrifying sentence you have ever read. The creepiness factor of the following is approximately thrice that of John Boehner in a catsuit tiptoeing up behind you and unexpectedly tonguing your eardrum.)
(Hawkins is transparently ripping off the Cracked dot com format. He's done this for a while. It's all kinds of melancholy, what we have here. Attempted-Cool Wingnut Snarkland is a sad country, forelorn and lonely, plus dickish. LISTS! I WILL DO LISTS! ONLY I WILL DO THEM FROM A RIGHT WING POINT OF VIEW! YOU WILL LAUGH! LAUGH! LAUGH, I COMMAND YOU! WHY WILL YOU NOT LAUGH!)
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Reading John Hawkins offering women romantic advice is like reading a recipe for a coelacanth soufflé: hard to accept as real, yet thoroughly unappetizing.
Still, there is some value here. Dollar-store wingnuts like Hawkins have nothing to pass to the world except half-digested, ill-dumped chunks of right wing ideology, and they can't help flinging their scat around. Higher-ranking conservative primates usually try to bury their fouler excretions. Sure, they do so badly. But with a lower-order knuckle-walker like Hawkins, it's all out there in the open, in all its redolence.
Hawkins' concept of "women" is, clearly, strictly theoretical. We can safely assume he has never had contact with an actual woman, in the absence of headlines such as "Half of Species Takes out Restraining Order against Condescending, Terrifying Cheeto-Beast."
But then, the entire right-wing concept of Woman is likewise as phony as it is didactic. Hawkins isn't going to tell us anything we don't know, but he sure will pour on the smarm, in the manner of a too-close, booze-breathed uncle ogling your tits while he lectures you about milk and cows and promise rings. Which is, in the end... the entire right-wing concept of Woman.
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So here's Hawkins, talking about Women.
Women are complicated because they have: A) a layer of logic, B) laid across that a mood, and C) on top of that an ever-fluctuating stream of emotion. If men are like checkers, then women are like chess — except the pieces are all kittens hopped up on catnip with broken glass taped to their paws.
This is... woeful.
Anyone capable of perpetrating this paragraph deserves ten harsh years in the catnip mines, strapping broken glass to kitten paws.
Beyond the crimes to metaphor, though, this is just boring sexism expressed incompetently. Women are only logical at the third remove? Unlike us plain simple menfolk (scratching balls, watching sports)?
A-yep. Dames. Fart fart heh.
Fuck you. I'm not checkers. I'm Connect Four. And MollyI is Parcheesi. Together we make Hungry Hungry Hippos. Or perhaps Battleship. The fuck? Board games...?
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Women, in my experience, are not some sort of Unknowable Galactic Otherbeings. They tend to be people, by and large. I mean, Michelle Bachmann probably has tentacles, but I'm guessing she had them surgically implanted because she misheard Jesus talking in her dreams. ("I said you need to be more SENSIBLE! Not you need to skin-graft TENTACLES!")
It gets ickier:
I’m puzzled listening to my female friends tell me they don’t understand men. This is like a rocket scientist telling you she can’t figure out how a flush toilet works. Men are fairly simple; so how can we be so confusing to such comparatively complex creatures? How can women not already know these things?
I hate this. Men fuck fart sports ho ho. Women sensitive need to excuse please caveman bullshit then we girls go shop yay!
Like I said, smarm. "Damn, bitches, these are compliments!"
Also, men are not "simple." Nobody is. Not even Hawkins, I guess. (I wouldn't spelunk in that psyche with a GPS, two Sherpas, a quart of laudanum, and Freud his own badass crazy psychoanalytic self.)
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Wait...
This entire column I'm making fun of is a total ripoff of Cracked dot com.
It is. The list format, the tone, everything, down to the placement of the captions.
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Fucking hell.
I could go through this in detail, but I'll just leave you with the following. It is verbatim. Kill me.
There is also an unhappier possibility. If you can’t find a “good guy,” maybe you’re making the same mistake that men do when they want a woman who “likes me for ME!” Translation: He wants a supermodel who likes him despite the fact he’s boring and unattractive. If all else fails, it’s always worth asking if the man of your dreams came along tomorrow and wanted to date, would you be the kind of woman he’d want to date?
Why can't I find a good man? Wait, it couldn't be something I'm doing wrong, could it?
This, according to Pajamas Media, is a good joke about dating.
I'm done.
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