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By Allison Kilkenny
For those of you who missed the drama because you have lives, and don’t haunt the internet like friendless ghosts: This week, author and feminist Erica Jong and Rolling Stone columnist (and BEAST founder) Matt Taibbi got into a huge mud fight on celebutard watering hole the Huffington Post.
In the name of full disclosure, I have to confess three things. The first confession I have to make is that I hate Erica Jong. This is something of a surprise for me, because I had never heard her name before this week. Erica’s Huffpost biography (which is intended to be a short blurb) extends for a page-and-a-half as she breathlessly strains to convince us she’s worth the $13 her pretentious, pseudo-intellectual mob shelled out for her latest hardcover, Sappho’s Leap.
Sappho’s Leap is an odyssey about the greatest female lyric poet of all time, set in ancient Greece. I’ll stop there because I need my readers to remain conscious to read the rest of my article.
The second confession is that I blog for Huffington Post. The cool thing about Huffpost (other than being able to read Alec Baldwin’s latest musings) is that none of the bloggers are paid, so no one is afraid to write exactly what they’re feeling out of fear of being censored or fired. In that way, Huffpost is a bigger proponent for free speech and democratic discussion than most major newspapers. But sometimes, as a result of unfiltered opinions, the discussions dissolve into the internet version of titty twisters and wet willies.
My third confession is that I don’t think Taibbi went far enough in denouncing Jong as a hack and a feminist fraud. I think men censor themselves when critiquing insanity masquerading as feminine progressivism precisely because they’re afraid of being called chauvinistic. I refuse to censor myself because of this fossilized twat. I believe she and everyone like her are destructive, corrosive cancers within feminism. And so I declare open season on Erica Jong.
And I’m going to use a lot of naughty language. For example, I'm going to use the word cunt. A lot. Probably when I don’t even need to use it. I’m going to use it because Eric Jong is a cunt—a huge fucking cunt. If this bothers you, stop reading now.
Thus, I bring you a recap of the Jong-Taibbi 2008 You Fuck Your Mother Battle Royale.
In one corner, we have Erica “Liberal Feminist Cunt” Jong, hailing from Weston, Connecticut. Her hair bleached into a brittle blonde scream, Erica cakes enough make-up across her withered face to smother every last betraying wrinkle. This feisty feminist protests “The Man” and his demands that she remain eternally youthful and pleasing to his eyes by painting her grizzled visage like a deranged, slutty clown.
And in the other corner, we have Matt “Fucking Fuck Fuck Hillary Clinton has Flabby Arms” Taibbi. He’s the journalist, who will look perpetually confused and a little pissed off through the remainder of this brawl as he keeps his hand pressed to Jong’s brow, and holds her at arm’s distance while she snarls and claws at the air.
The stage was set for disaster when Jong responded to Taibbi’s piece in Rolling Stone wherein he described a campaign victory scene thusly: “Hillmeister doing the dual flabby-arm raise on CNN, while gusts of confetti whooshed across the room…”
Outraged, but still capable of pulling herself together long enough to alliterate and regurgitate obscure references, reminding us all she is the proud carrier of a library card, Jong responded with “Misogyny, Momism, and Militarism,” in which she accused Taibbi of hating women and wanting to fuck his mother.
Erica seems like an intelligent lady, although I base that assumption on the facts that she likes Greek history and her Huffington Post blog lacks any noticeable typos. However, that amount of research I put into her presumably breathtaking personal history is still about five more minutes of journalistic grunt work than she put into learning anything about Taibbi. First, she calls Matt “Mike,” mistaking him for his father, the NBC journalist.
Then, she goes on to quote the flabby-armed line in such an out-of-context way that I assume one of her cunty Cosmopolitan-swigging cohorts must have emailed it to her with the caps-locked subject: “A MAN IS DISRESPECTING SOMEONE WITH A VAGINA!!! ATTACK!!!!!”
In some of the most insane psychological and intellectual contortionism I have ever witnessed, Jong cites such random cultural personalities as Elton John – truly a staple in the world of feminist research - to “prove” her point that Taibbi suffers from “Momism.”
Momism is an APA-classified (I’m kidding) disorder where the patient suffers from an Oedipal obsession with his bad mother to counter his attraction to his good mother. In other words, Jong argues, Matt Taibbi clearly wrote an unfavorable description of Hillary Clinton because he wants to fuck his mother.
Taibbi responded with “Erica Jong Thinks I Want to Do My Mother: A Response,” offering numerous examples that illustrate his Clinton description is merely a stylistic choice, and not a sexist maneuver. For example, Taibbi described Rudy Giuliani as:
“Virtually neckless, all shoulders and forehead and overbite, with a hunched-over, Draculoid posture that recalls, oddly enough, George W. Bush, the vestigial stoop of a once-chubby kid who grew up hiding tittie [sic] pictures from nuns.”
And also as “The electoral incarnation of Tommy Lee Jones' acid-bath-surviving Two-Face character." And a “Bottomless pit of vengeful little-guy ambition.”
And just to prove the point that he holds nothing personally against Mrs. Clinton, Taibbi introduced his litany of “Back-the-fuck-off-me-you-fucking-bitch” examples to Ms. Jong, or as he called her, “the eight hundred-year-old sex novelist.”
“Eight-Hundred-Year-Old Jong Responds to Callow Youth Taibbi” was the catchy title of Jong’s response piece. At this point, the Huffpost blog world began to buzz in the same way a playground vibrates when the two kids that have been giving each other the stink-eye all year finally meet for a showdown by the seesaw. Shit was going down.
For his flabby-arm comment, Jong calls Taibbi a “bully,” “ignorant,” and “insecure,” proving that while some name-calling is unacceptable, it’s perfectly acceptable to name-call if you claim to be an intellectual and don’t swear.
Due to an inordinate amount of hate-filled replies and confused inquiries, Erica had to change her weak argument. She looked like an old, out-of-touch schoolmarm, chastising a pupil for using bad language, so it was time to switch the focus of her argument.
I knew Jong would realize she’d fucked up and insulted a popular countercultural critic. However, I wasn’t braced for where Jong went next.
In the same unsubstantiated outburst, the old cunt compared Taibbi to the Nazis, who famously circulated caricatures of the Jews in order to inflate negative stereotypes right before “the Incident.”
Yes, Erica, that’s exactly what Matt Taibbi using the phrase “flabby-arm” is like. It’s exactly like the time when the Nazis tried to systematically destroy an entire race of people. Isn’t that how genocide goes? First, someone says Hillary Clinton has flabby arms, and then—BAM!—six million Jews are dead. You stupid fucking bitch.
Suddenly, this wasn’t a personal disagreement between two bloggers. Now, Jong is doing this in the name of freedom! She’s battling forces of pure evil, people! She’s selflessly hawking her book in the name of equality and feminist rights (and defending her own frail ego)!
Taibbi informed the internet that he is not, in fact, a Nazi in the next and last piece: “Erica Jong Rolls Out Every Liberal Cliché in Existence.” He cackles for a few paragraphs over being compared to the Nazis, “Who banned the ingenious, idea-rich works of Sigmund Freud – who just happens to be the poor dead sap whose theories Jong herself was wantonly bastardizing in her original post about me.”
Taibbi then rightly pointed out that Jong shielded herself with the Jew Defense (my words, not his) when the disagreement got a little heated. The Jew Defense is what occurs when two people are engaged in a debate and one party screams, “YOU ARE JUST LIKE HITLER!! THIS IS JUST LIKE NAZI GERMANY!!” and the other person is too stunned to reply. End.
It’s one hell of a cheap shot for an intellectual to take, especially someone who spent two lengthy posts convincing her readers that ideas are all that matter, and not commonplace rhetoric. Discovering she had nowhere to run, Jong pointed a bony finger Taibbi’s way and screeched, “JEW KILLER!” as loud as she could muster.
Weak, Erica. Very weak.
Unfortunately for Jong, Taibbi wasn’t stunned. He was amused, but he wasn’t too stunned to rip her a new one and prove that she is just another humorless, frosty sophist who tries to pass off trashy romance novels as epic historical narratives.
Jong makes me ashamed to tell people I’m a feminist. I know the unsavory “feminist-type” ignorant parties conjure in their brains looks exactly like Jong, who grew up on Manhattan’s Upper West side with Bohemian “Run Free, Our Beautiful Baby Bird” musician and artist parents.
These are the kind of people who vacation in the Catskills and faint if someone tells a dick joke. They’re all about truth, freedom, and beauty, until you violate their sacred ideologies. Then they rely on their own air of self-importance and a couple twenty-dollar polysyllabic words to convince their audience that they’re true cultural magistrates.
Let me break this down in the spirit of keepin’ it real: These people are full of shit.
The Jong-type is the reason men, and some women, picture feminists as bald, scowling asexual buzzkills who emerge from Vermont for the dual purposes of censoring statements that make them uncomfortable and sucking the laughter out of any room they enter. Mind you, they do this while claiming to be proponents of freedom, democracy, and other happy rhetoric they espouse and then later crush beneath their iron fist of femininity.
More than just an unfunny elitist, Erica Jong seems to harbor a deep, personal resentment for being born a woman, which flies in the face of the whole “Love your pussy, girl!” movement.
This excerpt is from her official biography at www.ericajong.com:
“Tillie Olsen once observed how ‘fortunate are those of us who are daughters born into knowledgeable, ambitious families where no sons are born.’ Jong was such a daughter. Her mother’s stifled creativity and feminist rage, and her father’s need for Erica ‘to be his son,’ combined to make a ‘potent brew’ that fueled Erica’s drive and ambition. ‘The ingredients were just right to make a girl who thought she was allowed to be a boy. But who also had to punish herself for this presumption.’ ”
Who wants to fuck whose parent, exactly? The way Jong lashed out at Taibbi makes me wonder how many nights a hysterically sobbing Jong furiously chafed her clitoris as she cried her daddy’s name and begged for his love and mercy.
Erica, read these next lines very carefully (twice): Daddy never loved you. He never respected you. Because you’re a girl. Because you have a vagina. Get over it and stop censoring everyone else because you’ll never have his love.
Not all men hate women. Not all men are your ignorant father. Some of us had loving, supportive dads, who loved us unconditionally, and not in spite of our gender. Not all men operate under the modus operandi: Keep the Bitch Down.
There are good guys, who are on the good side of the fight.
Perhaps the most alarming assumption Jong made (in my opinion) came when she banged out this musing: “So what is wrong with American men? Particularly male journalists.”
Excuse me? Is this what the feminist argument has come to? Now, we’re going to devote our hours to berating journalists because they unfavorably describe politicians, one of whom incidentally happens to be a female?
My problem with feminists like Jong is that they claim to want to transcend gender definitions, but then define the universe with “penis” and “vagina” labels. They bray about equality and humanity, but then hammer the chisel at the first chance, fractioning the progressive movement into increasingly isolated sects.
They dress up sloppy “Yo Mama” jokes as intellectual critique.
Such elitism results in shoving away a journalist and his entire following– a journalist, who has never indicated that he’s sexist – from a movement that might have otherwise encompassed a larger base, including the rough-and-tumble boys and girls who say “fuck” and “shit” a lot.
And believe me, Erica, you want those people on your side.
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