To subdue the enemy without fighting is the supreme excellence. - Sun Tzu

Friday, February 11, 2005

The (shh! *giggle like a stupid child*) Monologues

This makes for the second of my posts that are basically transcripts of other conversations.

This weekend, the annual showing of "The Vagina Monologues" feminist variety stage-show... thing... is held, at college. I dismissed it when I first heard of it, because I really don't care.

Yesterday, the local college Democrats went eating (we tried to go bowling, but they wouldn't listen to me trying to explain that Thursday is not a good night, because of all the old people), ironically to Hooters. Of the 9 of us, 3 were male. In the course of the conversation, The Vagina Monologues came up, and we were interrogated as to whether we would be going. The other two said, "Yes, of course", because they're really sensitive or some crap like that. I said "Eh, well, um, I don't know...". I tried to hide behind the excuse of "well, it's $5...", but that wasn't working. Thankfully, at about that moment, the Hooters 'associates' humiliated some poor slob (apparently it was his birthday).

So, how do I explain that I just don't care, without sounding like a jackass?

I could try to explain to them that the only reason The Vagina Monologues exists is because it's funny to say the word "vagina," but I'm not too fond of the idea of being dismembered by a horde of feminists. Ah... my greatest weapon is my sarcasm. That I cannot use it is so... emasculating.

I'm not uncomfortable with the idea of women on stage discussing things which are not addressed in public or good company. Oh, no, that's not it; She tried telling me I won't go because I'm uncomfortable with it, and I replied that a parallel "The Penis Monologues" would be shunned, mocked, insulted, and ranted against, thus showing my grasp of the issue and an absence of discomfort.

I'm not uncomfortable, is my point. I just don't care. But I want to say that in such a way that I don't sound like an inconsiderate chovanist bastard. Unfortunately, you see, circumstances demand that I not tick off those with whom I was discussing this. It's so tempting to explain that 1) there is a fine line between "empowerment" and "reverse discrimination" (remember, I am a white male), and 2) the humor is of the detestable "crude" type. That is why I don't like it. But because I'm probably the only person who actually realizes these things, explaining them would sound offensive... so here's hoping I'll still be alive this time next week. I probably need to be slapped a few times anyway.

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