Unqualified Offerings

The Independent Women’s Forum has never had much use for feminists. But now they’re turning anti-male on us - anti-human male anyway:

It’s Kong, furthermore not the wimpy humans in the movie (epitomized by the fey Adrien Brody playing sensitive-writer Jack Driscoll and supposedly Watts’s love interest), who saves his lady from being eaten by dinosaurs. I loved the scene in which Kong first rips a stegosaurus’s jaw in half with his bare hands, then beats his chest with pride. Brody, as ever in this movie, arrives on the scene too late. No wonder he’s no match for King Kong in Watts’s heart.

So I took away my own message from the movie: Whom would I rather have around when the going got tough: a jaw-jaw chattering class intellectual like Brody or a primitive red-state brute along the lines of King Kong? I think the answer’s pretty clear.

The “red-state brute” feint is a nice cover for the author’s bestiality. Gay men have their beards and a respectable pundette may enter into an “arrangement” with a NASCAR dad for the sake of appearances - someone has to muck the regurgitated grapefruit from the sills of her true heartthrob’s enclosure, after all. More likely, alas, she settles for a bespectacled blueblood who praises NASCAR Dads in East Coast magazines, while at night she trembles alone on her side of the bed like the post-op Bron Hellstrom at the end of Triton, waiting for the beast that waits for her in the jungles to which she’ll never have the heart to sail. The vintage National Geographics on her nightstand are stacked in perfect alignment.

(Via Howley.)