Our Tomorrow: A World Without Feminists, Contraception, and Domestic Violence

So you thought it was all about freedom of religion, government out of our lives, and the virtue of women, didn't you?

Right.

In fact, it's all about putting us women right back in our places. In the 19th century.

Oh, to be back in those halcyon days, when men were men and women were HOME.

'Rick Santorum...in his 2005 book, “It Takes a Family,”...disparaged “radical feminists” for giving women the idea that they might find greater fulfillment outside the home.'

And dare they venture as far as to join the military, well, they'll get just what they deserve: raped.

'In response to...a new Pentagon report on sexual abuse in the military [that states that since 2006, there's been a 64% increase in violent sexual assaults]', Fox News contributor Liz Trotta says, 'Now, what did they expect?'

And now, audaciously! '...feminists...[are directing the Pentagon] to spend a lot of money. They have sexual counselors all over the place, victims’ advocates, sexual response coordinators. … So, you have this whole bureaucracy upon bureaucracy being built up with all kinds of levels of people to support women in the military who are now being raped too much.'

Oh, if they'd just stayed HOME! Where women are cherished, treasured, pedastaled. And beaten.

'Current [domestic violence] law in New Hampshire states...that an officer “has the discretion to decide when an arrest is warranted with or without corroborating evidence.” This means that if an officer shows up to a house, he or she takes a look at the scene to assess the situation and makes a decision about whether the alleged assault took place.

But a piece of legislation proposed by state Republicans would require police to get a judge or justice of the peace to issue a warrant for the alleged perpetrator’s arrest...So even if a cop shows up, the victim is covered in bruises, the neighbors say they heard screaming, and there is a hole punched in the wall...it is not too difficult to figure out what happens next: “The officer leaves [to get a warrant], and the abuser renews his attack with even more ferocity, punishing his victim for having called for help.”

And should those cherished women wish to choose when and how many children they'd like to have and raise....think again, 21st/19th century fairer sex...

'Republican legislators are trying to extend the exemption (extended to Catholic charities, hospitals, and universities...which would allow religious groups to opt out of the mandate [to provide free contraceptive care] and require insurers to provide birth control directly to consumers) to any employer opposed to birth control, not just the Catholic church.'

Dear women! Beware of conservative outrage—and the laws that follow—cloaked in the dictates of religion, the 'veneration' of women, and the demonization of government.

The real target is you.

In No WoMan's Land

I've come to a fascinating, tragic place.

'Fascinating' because I'm seeing things so crisply clearly as to be a wonderment.
'Tragic' because I never wanted to be here and wish I wasn't.

And where I am is in that 'neutral' area between opposing trenches. No WoMan's Land. Having been on the Left Trench since forever, I find it sad to report on my new digs, but there you are. Couldn't say whether I was evicted from the Left Trench or whether I vacated it of my own volition—I just know I left it kicking, screaming, and desperately clinging to any fair outcropping I could find...till there were simply none left.

I want to stress that I am not intending to, and avowedly never will, move to the Right Trench. The terrain from No WoMan's Land up to the Right Trench is forbidding indeed, being devoid of outstretched arms to help one up if one slips and falls. In addition, the embankment is dangerously covered with gun emplacements for each new war, as well as hidden mines from all the wars that are not yet finished. Also, choice here seems to lie principally with the men, being doled out only incrementally to the women.

So, while I know real estate is going cheap on the Right Trench and it's a buyer's market, I'm certain it's like those inexpensive printers that voraciously eat ink that corporate America got us all to buy—you don't pay much up front but you'll pay through the nose for years and years to come.

Thus, I'm in a dilemma. I am smarter than to fall for the 'printer ruse' and buy on the Right Trench, but I refuse to go back to the Left Trench, where every day, from sunrise to weary sunset, one must march in lock-step with everyone else there. If one does not, one endures ostracism, hostility, and eventually, eviction. This is particularly true for the strong, free-thinking women on the Left Trench.

So here I sit in No WoMan's Land, watching the tracers from the Right and Left Trenches fly over my head. This is where the fascinating clarity of vision comes in...I'm certain those tracers were always tracking across this sad, isolated land, but darned if I ever saw them leave the Left Trench. All we would yell from there was, 'Incoming!' Now, I'm not saying there was no outgoing, but I'd always proudly lived there because our outgoing was in the form of intelligent answers, reasoned responses, and a world order that believed in helping the world keep order. For every last one of us.

Alas and alack. I regret to say, with crystal clear acuity of vision, that the slugs and pellets zipping overhead are indistinguishable from each other. Those from the Left Trench match—and lately surpass—the Right Trench in nastiness and hate. In fact, of late, the ammo sent right-ward are sexist-tipped bullets, incredibly narrow and heedless of collateral damage.

I don't like it here. But hell if I'm going to climb back into the Right Trench, whatever pretty intentions they offer up. And as each day passes, with the volleys of anti-distaff shot in anger and desperation from the Left Trench, hell if I'm going back there.

Not without a mass exodus of present leaders and lots of the lock-steppers.

I guess we here in No WoMan's Land can just keep relating our individual books about the good old days on the Left Trench. Until we're all allowed to remember them again.