|Inner Bag Lady on the march.|
I applauded this celebrity's desire to have a discussion about how people are subject to malicious innuendo and how that made her feel. I could relate. We're all subject to behind-the-back, jealous and negative gossip. Where she lost me (coincidentally just when my Inner Bag Lady began to make up really cool protest signs) was when I noticed that she peppered the term misogynistic assault on women several times through her article, insisting that the issue is a feminist one. Was my Inner Bag Lady disappointed, deflated and suddenly depressed? You bet your sweet bippy. Not only did I have to look up what misogyny meant but her need to classify her personal experience as part of a bigger fight – an example of the systemic oppression of women by men in today's society made me one of the bad guys – a MAN! She managed to take what I would be ready to identify with and add my outrage to and reclassified the tongue-wagging, trailer park quality, gossipy attacks on her as examples of misogyny (a hatred of women) rather than something I could get my teeth into, like misanthropy (hatred of the human race) or better yet: simple ignorance.
I became frustrated, hurt and confused... and yes, victimized. I had to console Inner Bag Lady. I love her, she's sparky, emotional, full of zest and gusto and ready to shout out her outrage for a good cause at the drop of a hat. But she's very sensitive. Taking a perfectly good reason to protest away from her is a crime. Doing so by redefining a fairly clear personal affront as a societal issue seems unfair. I started out totally in the same room and was summarily shown the door. Because while I really wasn't one of the bad guys, I was judged so simply because I have a Y chromosome. Woe is Rand.
Oh wait, I just found something to be outraged about. "Help! Help! I'm being victimized by misandristic oppression!"
Inner Bag Lady, placards please. And flyers. And a big, big banner. And maybe some cool ribbons – they're hot these days. What color isn't taken?