The Heady Cocktail of Trump and Feminism
In the flurry of debates and denials, punctuated by accusatory information on every side, nothing has stood out as inflammatory as Trump’s pussy talk.
Why was it shocking? From high powered execs to the casual Joe who just wants to spend the weekend watching football or hunting, this has been the hallmark of manhood. Not every man, but too many.
It was shocking, in part, because it was honest. This perhaps was the best thing to come out of Trump’s campaign. The blatent racism and sexism. The frank way people were made a thug, a pussy, or bystander to watch the parade.
I have seen groups of men espouse Trump and his counterparts and turn around to enact their own brand of objectification. Is it any different? An object is something you do things to. It’s easy. Read comics that feature women with F cups and an 8 pack. Play a video game where the weakest character is a woman. (That armor!) Sit down to a poker game of Playboy cards.
How close do you step to objective standards before crossing the line to that talk? Do you just think it but never say it? Do you just say it in knowing glances? When you and a buddy catch each other watching a fine piece of ass cross the room and no wives or girlfiends are around.
What do you do? What do you say? Are you any different?
And that, my friends, is why Trump is so vital, so important to this election. We like our misogny quiet, where it looks more polite and refined. Not brutish like Trump. We like it in stolen looks, in magazines, in GQ articles that are part intellect, part under-boob, and covered in a bow. We like it like this. Until someone mocks it or stands up to it, we read it and accept it.
Is it ok to be a quiet misogynist? Is it ok to expect or pressure your partner to take your last name, to do the dishes and make dinner, to clean up before guests arrive — and then sit down and talk about how horrible Trump is to women?