Tangent #4 by Dave Sim

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It gets worse.

To me, it gets far worse when it comes to the animal kingdom and there, again, I think men must shoulder more than their fair share of the blame.

In the same sense that it is true that women see themselves as interchangeable with men, homosexualists as interchangeable with heterosexualists, children and babies as interchangeable with adults, it is also true, for the most part, that women believe that animals are interchangeable with human beings.

I believe, for the sake of appearances, they will allow themselves to be bullied into acknowledging that there is a distinction:

"Uh, you do realize that your cat is just a cat. That a cat is a very low form of life."

Yes, pushed to the wall and having to, you know, say it out loud, to a man, a woman will grudgingly admit that a human being is a human being and a cat is a cat. But she is certainly not going to he amenable to exploring the subject to any great depth.

"That is, you are aware that, no matter how much time and effort you devoted to doing so, you could never teach your cat to play even the simplest card game, like Hearts."

That's true. I know that little Snowball will never learn how to play Hearts.

Inside, I can practically guarantee you that what she will be thinking is: Well, so what? I know lots of people who have never learned how to play Hearts, and/or What's so special about a stupid card game? and/or I think it's more important what's inside a person than whether or not they can play cards. Even calling female attention to this, making them laugh at the absurdity of it (I hope making them laugh at the absurdity of it: otherwise we are all inhabiting a Circle of Hell far closer to the innermost ring than I have hitherto suspected) will, I am entirely certain, in no way modify the fact that this is the way they think - or, rather, "think": with their hearts, first and foremost, their love for little Snowball or little Whatever-It-Is dictating the fairy-tale foundation upon which their lives rest: that little Snowball and Mummy are just two peas in a pod.


Consider that one, if you will, gentlemen.

As the comedienne, Rita Rudner, put it, "My husband and I just got a dog. Now, he's not a child substitute. At least, that's what his pediatrician tells us." At one level - you know, confined to the kitchen, the laundry room, the backyard - however inherently stupid, there is a charming, amusing and whimsical quality to that. less charming, less amusing and less whimsical when one realizes that women are out in the workforce now. Many of them occupy positions of authority. And they are allowed to vote.

Sensitive as the antennae on an ant as the average feminist is to the slightest nuance or hint of depredation (however inadvertent) which might in any way cast aspersions on her Inviolate Status as Citizen and Fully-Fledged Human Being, still it is the pleasure - nay, the pride ~ of many, many, many of them to refer to themselves as the "Mummy" of feral and insensible beasts and to "kiss" on the mouth a creature which uses its tongue to keep its anus clear of feces.

Here, again, the masculine gender must shoulder more than its fair share of the blame for this deplorable state of affairs, most especially for the historical decision to allow animals in the house. Clearly, this came about through the fault of fathers surrendering to the weakness they experience in dealing with their daughters. No lofty trajectory of the imagination is required to envision the centuries of pleading that must have gone into the winning of that first victory by a daughter over her father: inclement weather, undoubtedly, serving as the thin end of the wedge...

"Please, Papa, it's freezing outside."

...and, in the succeeding years, the rest of the civilizational barricades between man and beast falling like dominos. (Well, all right, just this once) KLUNK (Well, all right but he stays in the entryway) KLUNK (Well, all right, but keep him in the kitchen) KLUNK (Well, all right, but keep him on the hardwood) KLUNK (Well, all right, but he has to stay on the floor) KLUNK (Well, all right, but he has to stay at the foot of the bed) KLUNK (Well, all right, but he has to stay on top of the covers) KLUNK

Who can doubt that we're only a generation or two away from "Well, all right, but don't give him the good china"?

It's not hard to see the question that that first capitulating father asked himself and which each successive father asked himself as each successive societal barricade fell:

"Where's the harm?"

The harm, I believe, as we are seeing now, is that women quite literally don't know whether they are human beings or animals. Nature reflects and there is, to me, a fundamental danger to society in the undeveloped, tactical, emotion-based female "mind" staring lovingly into the eyes of a feral beast which derives interchangeable pleasure from eating, sleeping and licking feces from itself...and with that female "mind" identifying her-(it-?)self with that feral creature and (the crux of this part of my thesis) persuading herself that she has more in common with a feces-licking creature than the opposite gender of her own species or seeing herself as having just as much in common with feral beasts as with men or seeing herself as a mediator halfway between man and beast or seeing herself as an ambassador to the world of men from the animal kingdom.

All, to me, are sickening realities to contemplate. All that is unknown is the numerical percentages of womankind's members who mentally inhabit each of the four skewed outlooks.

What if?

What if, gentlemen, only three percent of existing women genuinely consider themselves to be human and ninety-seven percent consider themselves to be animals or part animals?

You think I'm being an alarmist.

Permit me to buttress my argument with the assertion that there is a world of difference between a Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, the masculine innovation of the 19th century - a nice civilized gesture, scarcely on par with a genuinely noble human enterprise (like ending slavery, as an example), but a nice gesture-and the Feminist "innovation" of the century just completed, animal "rights".



Insufficient to screw-loose Feminist purposes is a Society dedicated to Preventing acts of Cruelty against Animals, an altogether sensible example of noblesse oblige from God's highest creation on this earth to the lower life forms (feel the "ladies" bristle at that one). No, what is required by feminists is nothing short of Pan-DNA Rights and Freedoms.



Can the day be far distant when the local animal shelter will have to present a writ of habeas corpus, convene a "show cause" hearing and provide a court-appointed attorney ("Do you understand your Animal Rights as I have explained them to you?" "Woof.") before they can be allowed to lock up a stray mutt found digging up lawns and scattering garbage?

Clearly, when womankind sets what passes for its "mind" upon "crowding the centre," it seizes upon anything and everything: - homosexualists, babies, children, cats, dogs - to do so.

It seems to me that this is part and parcel of women being the silver medallists in the human race. If woman cannot achieve the masculine gold medal, then everyone and everything else as far as the eye can see must be recast as a silver medallist as well. Gold medal status must be made aberrational by every means of collectivist exclusion available to the unfairer sex. Society must be reshaped in such a way that silver medal status becomes the societal norm and gold medal status is made interchangeable with it, subservient to it and/or moved to the periphery of its own masculine context which defines it.

There is a certain hysteria (in its literal definition which so offends - and defines - feminists) which obtains here: a demented, histrionic quality of "if I can't be equal to you, then I will cast myself into the gutter" if a woman can't be a man, she will make herself interchangeable with homosexualists, with babies, with children, with cats and with dogs.

"A woman's right to choose," indeed. And, to me, a lunatic misuse of free will, undoubtedly as old as free will itself.

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