M
mystagogia
Guest
How could a woman not be in control of the bedroom? The only way around it is compulsion against the will, or rape. That would be gravely wrong. She determines the where, when, and frequency of the act. Complaints by men along these lines are common, even if mrpathetic’s situation is tragically extreme. Usually things get worked out towards some accommodation, but what if you wind up like mrpathetic with a frigid wife who doesn’t ever want to play? It’s conceivable, and there’s not too much you can do about it.Truly a sad story. But I think we’re talking about a couple different things here. “Women controlling the bedroom” as you put it, is mr.pathetic’s skewed spin on his own situation, which he applied in general to the entire American public a few posts ago. That’s just, in my opinion, a psychological and rhetorical phenomenon called transference.
Now women having complete control over their “reproductive rights” is an abortion issue. I agree with you that women keeping custody of their children, no matter what, in a divorce is just one part of the horrible no-fault divorce laws in America. These laws actually encourage divorces.
I don’t know if that situation is avoidable, however, or necessarily a unique feature to our times. It could happen in any age it seems. Women have always weilded great power in this area, and always will. I’m not sure it’s what makes us “whimpy”, as the question was put.
Looking back on my life the episode that illustrated the problem of “whimpification” to me most disturbingly was the Lorena Bobbitt fiasco. Remember this one: Lorena Bobbitt had married John Wayne Bobbit, by all accounts a disaster of a man. An unhappy marriage resulted. One night Mr. Bobbitt came home drunk and passed out (I think there was an allegation of physical abuse here, too), and Mrs. Bobbitt retaliated by gruesomely mutilating him while unconscious, driving away, and chucking his body parts out the car window in the process.
What stunned me and every male friend, colleague and family member I know was the extreme over-the-top expression of joy, halleluja and high-fives that overcame every woman to be found. We witnessed women coming into work and saying to each other, “Did you hear the news?” “Yes!” “YOU GO, GIRL!” (chorus). I was working as a waiter in a restaurant at the time, and for days news of the Bobbitts’ melodrama dominated the conversation of groups of female customers and staff, to the point of utter giddiness at this remarkable “victory” for women everywhere. Feminist commentators shared in outpouring this ecstasy.
I remember well the huddles we guys used to have, “What to make of this? This is really bizarre! What is wrong with them? How do we respond?”
We never figured it out in the end, I think. Just bite the tongue and hope it passes. Take the hit, like we do when they come in with the “Girls Rule, Boys Drool” t-shirts, when they get up and start off anything with, “As a woman, I feel …”, or when they take the daughter aside to school her about how girls are better than boys in every way.
Because if you oppose them or question their verdict on any subject related to women and gender relations, you lose. You’re an insensitive person who doesn’t understand, or worse, a sexist. If you’ve got a beef, well then understand you’ve had it coming.
Our sexes really have been set on war with each other, tragically.