Don't date feminists, vol.2

Michael Noer's got a U.K. kindred spirit. On August 4, Nirpal Dhaliwal wrote in the Daily Mail an article entitled How Feminism Destroyed Real Men.

The first third of it makes some degree of sense.

Then, he drops the first of a few bombs, with my response following.

[Women] love men who will look them in the eye and tell them to shut up when their hormonal bickering has become too much.

I assume he's talking about mood swings related to our periods. Periods. Now there's a topic that strikes fear (or at least acute squeamishness) in the hearts of the stoutest men. When men stop being such pansies around all matters concerning our menstrual cycles, then they can tell us to quit our bitching.

Long ago, I realised it is unhealthy for a man to embroil himself in arguments with women...it's a pressure valve for their emotions, and once they get started there is no stopping them.

I guess he's saying that if he could to pick someone to filibuster a bill in Congress, that person would be female.

Real men don't pretend or even try to understand women....And they don't take them too seriously, either.

Is his mother reading this?

The female orgasm is the natural mechanism by which men assert dominion over women.

Oh, how I wish more men were capable of asserting such dominion over me. D.I.Y gets old after a while.

And then the real lulu:

Last Christmas, my wife threw me out after discovering I'd been cheating on her. On the night we got back together, I made strong, passionate love to her...I needed to let her know what she would be missing if we broke up for ever. I gave her a manful bravura performance that night, and at the height of her passion, I asked her: 'Who's the boss?' The question threw her. Initially she wouldn't give me a reply, but I enticed it from her. 'You are,' she finally gasped. 'You are!'"

Let's recap.

-He cheated on his wife

-He discloses such fact, along with intimate details of their bedroom behavior, on an internet news site read by millions of people worldwide.

-And, at the end of it all, he wants not her verbal forgiveness, but her verbal submission.

There may be women, however, that fall for this kind of power play. The website "Ladies Against Feminism" features a charming clutch of articles collected and written by people (of both genders) who believe that a woman's God-given place is to be subordinate to her husband.

Here are some gems from the website, which is sprinkled with these charming portraits of ladies who, assumedly, are also against feminism:

“So, what do you do?” The question is posed relentlessly. In other words, "What label have you given yourself to prove to the rest of the world that you are not a drain on society?"...During my five-month engagement, I quipped lightly, “Why, I am a bride!”

"We were created by God to be a helper suitable. In other words, we are designed by God to be precisely what that man—that we have vowed before Him to love, honour, cherish and obey—needs."

"Statistics show that sales of aprons are on the increase. If more women are buying aprons, that means more women are once again embracing God’s design and returning to the home--returning to raise their children, cook the meals, clean the house, be helpers to their husbands and managers of their homes, therefore having a need for functional, feminine aprons."

Another related website is "Biblical Womanhood". I can't help but notice the similarities between these Christian women who proclaim their husband to be their authority, and that ol' Craig's List chestnut, S&M. Let's play "compare and contrast", shall we?

BW: "We want to please and honor Daddy by having clean socks for him because Daddy is the king of our home"

CL: "Are you a good-looking dominant man looking for a submissive girlfriend? Please be tall, single, well endowed, successful, live in manhattan, experienced and seeking your girlfriend to also be submissive and serve you."

BW: "Man was created to be the head of the woman. Woman was created to be the helper to man. Man is under God, woman is under man."

CL: "I am a smart, attractive, well-educated, vivacious, charming, creative, woman with a very submissive and kinky bedroom personality. I love to be dominated."

BW: "I believe with all my heart that I can trust God to work through my husband. My heart trusts in my husband. He is my leader, he wants to protect me from evil and from harm. I need his wisdom and his guidance and his leadership."

Without all the God-talk, the BWs and LAFers aren't that different from the CLers. Both are seeking a man to play a dominant role, both want a romantic relationship to have an authority-subordinate dynamic. The only key difference is that the CLers don't act like their preferred relationship power dynamic is what other women should strive to achieve, whereas the BWs and LAFers make it clear what a woman's proper role is.

But Are They Right?

Maybe the career women are suckers, and the God Squadders have it right. Picture this:

7:20 AM: Hubby, an IBer at Jefferies (and also a candidate for managing director in the coming year), rises to get to work. Poor dear is running late since he got in at 3AM last night. I am still asleep.

8:12 AM: I awake to the most ungodly sound. Won't Matilda (our dear nanny) do something to shut the kids up from crying? I've got to meet my trainer in 45 minutes by Lake Jackie. We're doing long intervals today and I want to be my sharpest.

8:30 AM: Hubby catches a cab to work. From our cozy spot on 79th and 5th to the Midtown 50s, he'll make it to work on time.

8:49 AM: "Matilda, I'm off for my morning run. Make sure you keep the kids entertained, and whip up some of that spanish omelet I quite enjoy after a hard beasting in the park. 2 egg whites for every yolk."

11:03 AM: I return from my run, eat said omelet. Pour glass of Reisling, drink. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Walk to Madison Avenue, stop in the Ghurka store (chortling to myself at the spelling error) to buy new luggage for our trip to Zanzibar.

11:47 AM: Stroll into Ralph Lauren, purchase champagne-colored gown for charity benefit. African AIDS orphans. How Brangelina.

1:34 PM: Meet some of the other Junior Leaguers for lunch (read: martinis) at Tao. Engage in subtle one-upmanship (think the American Psycho Business Card Scene) as to who is planning the most out-of-the way vacation to the most un-heard of spot.

3:14 PM: Nap. Masturbate.

5:12 PM: I am awakened by Matilda with the brats. "Do not fucking buy them McDonalds,"I scold. Yes, I know this is America, but my progeny do not have to eat like Americans.

6:34 PM: Instruct Matilda to cook something simple, like osso bucco. I guiltily try to help out, only to have her shoo me out of the kitchen and remind me of the time that I burned hard-boiled eggs.

7:42 PM: Scurry to the Union Club for some odd fundraiser with a "Miami Vice" theme. Wear the cream silk skirt from Phi paired with a floral Betsey Johnson top, even though it's October and too late in the year for white.

10:48 PM: Hubby comes home. Mentions the large bonus he'll be receiving for closing some Big Pharma deals this quarter. I mention how Zanzibar is getting played out due to all the British gap-year coeds who want a short beach holiday after trampling up Kili, and how the Quirimbas archipelago would be a much less cliched option. Withhold sex when he grumbles about how "normal people are happy just to go to Hawaii". Realize he's probably boffing his assistant but smile myself to sleep once I realize that according to the prenup I made him sign, if he gets caught cheating, I'm entitled to 80% of what he's worth.

Sounds like the home is a good place for a woman, eh?