Maureen Dowd Wants Me
I used to be afraid of Maureen Dowd. I thought she was a woman I couldn't handle, with that lethal combination of biting sarcasm and prim white pearls around her neck. I knew that MoDo had no need for me or my gender, and wanted a world made up only of herself, Alfre Woodard, Helena Bonham Carter and maybe Joan Cusack for comic relief.
But I've changed my mind. Now I know different: Maureen Dowd wants me.
Two signs in particular have shown themselves, lighting the path toward this truth. First, I stumbled upon an old interview Ms. Dowd did with Jon Stewart, our modern answer to Jimmy Stewart, or perhaps Stewart Smalley. In it, Ms. Dowd showed those silky legs to their best effect, her fire-red hair calling out me -- "Blunderford, I am fierce, yet I am woman!"
And I was intrigued.
And now, Maureen, you cunning vixen, a new book, Are Men Necessary?, which at first glance seems to confirm all my worst fears. And yet...
And yet I know that in calling for a world without men, Maureen Dowd is simply trying to subjugate her very strongest desires in the name of keeping her street cred with the bald feminists of Main Street America.
And yet a book cover featuring an alluring heroine in red dress and red hair -- representing Dowd herself, no doubt -- pretending to read her book but so obviously glancing amorously at a rugged man in a fedora and five 'o clock shadow. A man who looks suspiciously like yours truly, Blunderford Matthew Hensley.
And yet while Maureen Dowd tries to be strong, she so obviously puts forth an image she can not live up to, an image of a woman who does not need the strong arms of a man to hold her tight, a woman who does not need the bread left open with no twist tie, a woman who does not want, need or desire a sweaty, snoring behemoth to roll on to her in the morning with stink breath and say, "My dick hurts for you, baby."
And I know it is all a lie. I know that MoDo will someday soon melt into my arms and say, "I love you, Blunderford. Are there any more Oreos left in your pocket for a small-town girl with a heart of gold?"
I will smile... and offer her my Double-Stuf.
Other thoughts on Maureen Dowd:
@ Sigmund, Carl and Alfred: "Would you want this woman marrying your brother, son, or anyone else in your family? Would you want her influencing children?"
@ my amusement park: "Let me preface this post by saying that I know everyone's going to be talking about how Maureen Dowd's a moron now, but I've been saying it for years. Years."
@ Instapunk: " suppose her preferred line of attack is that men aren't necessary, that the world would be better off if women -- especially smart women -- were artificially inseminated like dairy cows and free to bring up their smart female-only progeny in a one-sex society. That way, female IQs could keep going up while the male population dwindled away to nothing."
@ feministing: "Really, is Dowd so egotistical to think that only certain “successful” women determine current gender relations? Perhaps if she expanded her circle of friends--or actually tried to interview the lowly secretaries, assistants, and nannies who are supposedly stealing up all of the men--Dowd would see that the future of feminism goes beyond her backyard."
@ Echidne of the Snakes: "You may have noticed that I am angry at Maureen, and this is indeed the case. I'm fuming, and not because she is not a feminist. I always knew that Maureen was no sister at all, and in any case goddesses don't have sisters as such. But I am really pissed off at all those story-tellers who make up trends from whole cloth and then bemoan the existence of this trend they have just created."