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Tom Coburn is a Big Fat Jerk


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Sunday, February 20, 2005

Okay, it's like this

Aside from everything else, my biggest complaint with Dowd's column is that it's ostensibly about Summers, but quickly devolves into -- what? A litany of rants about fools behaving like fools and the fools who believe those fools, wrapped neatly within a whine that feminism hasn't saved us from judgment over appearance.

Was that all it was supposed to do, though?

Maureen, what the hell does any of that have to do with Summers? You know, I could tell you about the time at my first real job that the horndog boss called me into his office, and I found him sitting in there with his pants down.

True story.

He also almost wrecked his Lincoln trying to chase me down a sidewalk one day. Etc.

I mean, please.

But you know, Maureen, that idiot boss had no bearing on the rest of my life, except that he gifted me with some pretty amusing anecdotes.

Now, yes, it would have been a different matter --- a very different matter --- had he been, say, the advisor for my PhD or otherwise in a position to profoundly influence not simply my current situation, but the outcome of mountains of blood, sweat and tears. Or my boss at my dream job. Or somesuch.

Truth be known, though, had I ever found myself in such a situation, I would have walked. Complained, then walked because, honestly, once you've launched that big of a complaint, who the hell in their right mind would stick around? Unless you're Karen Silkwood and there's radioactivity involved.

But these examples are not analogous to superstitious and foolish baseball players busting the slump on the-woman-of-their-dreams-NOT and the foolish women who believe them.

And I'm sorry but feminism cannot protect us from the whims of our hearts or our oddest beliefs. I have a strange deepseated belief that blonde, slightly balding men are perverts and drunks and probably drug addicts and dope dealers and child beaters and extortionists. Not substantially bald blonde men, but blonde men just beginning to tumble into baldness. Especially if they also wear glasses without lenses and the latest fashions for men. And I will never get over it without dropping a good $50,000 on therapy --- which I will never do because any 50 thou I come up with is going to getting fencing around this place and a goodlooking barn. And maybe a new car. And some goats. Some of those pygmy goats.

Whatever, we're all like that. Even you, Maureen --- admit it! You have some strange phobia about men, as well, one that defies all logic and reason. ADMIT IT!

But that has nothing to do with Summers.

Summers is inferring something about inherent talent and ability. He's inferring something about the natural abilities and tendencies of women. THAT'S the point.

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