PLAYBOY AND WOMEN
by Alan Stang
March 7, 2008
In earlier sections of this extended treatise, we saw that so-called “women’s liberation” – like Organized Sodomy – is a weapon the conspiracy for world government devised to destroy the foundation of our civilization so that our country could easily be submerged and dissolved in the totalitarian socialist system it seeks. In this session, let’s see where “liberation” has taken women. We saw that the Communists were among the earliest advocates of modern “women’s liberation.”
An important element in “women’s liberation” is the so-called “Playboy philosophy” devised by magazine publisher Hugh Hefner in his degenerate Playboy magazine. What? Isn’t Hefner’s pseudo “philosophy” the opposite of “women’s liberation? Well, what is the “Playboy philosophy?”
Before Playboy, parents warned daughters about all the things a couple of millennia of experience prove man does not want. They told her that the natural man does not want flowers. He does not want dinner. He doesn’t want to waste time with sweet talk. He wants to walk into a bar, get drunk with a compliant woman in a spirit of perfect equality and then jump into bed. He doesn’t even want to waste time with foreplay. If there is a pregnancy, it’s her problem. In short, he wants to sweep into the dustbin of history all those “prudish, Victorian” obstacles.
To prevent that deletion, it was necessary to domesticate the male. He was required to call for a young lady at home – actually get out of his car and knock on the door – where Dad could eyeball him while cleaning his shotgun. Racking a twelve-gauge shotgun, even empty, makes such an authoritative, spiritually satisfying sound.
At dinner, as an expression of respect, he was required to stand up when the lady departed the table for the ladies’ room and again when she returned. And the lady was required to wear an antiquated garment called a dress, a garment with no legs you can see in “Gone With the Wind.” There were separate entrances to cocktail lounges oddly called “Ladies Entrance.”
I realize this next item will be challenged by people who are not as well-versed in history as they should be, but the fact is that ladies back then did not routinely display their belly buttons in public. For his part, the male did not show the different hemispheres in his behind unless he was a plumber, working beneath a sink. And the male alone wore judicious tattoos, usually memorializing his military unit. The dad with the shotgun required that the man bring the lady home at a specified time.
Because of these millennia-tested protections, unauthorized pregnancy was relatively rare. For just one example, we are talking about a time when there was such a lawgiver in most “Negro” homes, with the happy result that the rate of illegitimacy there was lower than it is in white families today. In the relatively unlikely event of such a pregnancy despite these precautions, the intransigent, deflowering male was encouraged to marry in a “shotgun wedding,” most of which, surprisingly, survived. These were just a few aspects of the then cultural matrix.
One of the reasons for all this was recognition by persistent and astute observers over the millennia that it is the woman who gets pregnant, and that she is probably better adapted to give suck to the helpless but hungry newborn because of the milk – containing all the necessary elements and quite different from cow’s milk – that comes in those impressive containers, almost as if . . . as if . . . as if Someone had planned it that way. The protections were designed to provide for her during the long period of child rearing.
George Bernard Shaw was of course an early Playboy. It was he who concocted the play Pygmalion, later adapted as a musical called “My Fair Lady,” in which the inimitable Rex Harrison opined, “Why Can’t a Woman Be More Like a Man?” Of course, Bernard Shaw was a Fabian Communist. The point of the play was to “prove” that you can make a silk purse from a sow’s ear, that nurture trumps nature.
Hef set out to change all this. His Playboy Philosophy “liberated” women. Under the “philosophy,” a woman now can stride into a bar and sit beside a man. She doesn’t need to mess around with foreplay. She can have a couple of drinks and jump into bed, just like a man. She is free to get genital warts and sterility. An unplanned parenthood can be aborted by Nazi apologist Margaret Sanger’s Planned Parenthood.
Men no longer need wonder whether a good-looking girl has an innie or an outie. In so many cases of haute couture today, her belly button is on display. There is even a discreet tattoo where her after deck divides, just like a plumber. Sometimes, she is the plumber. In short, the “liberated woman” is living the “Playboy Dream.” Is this a great culture, or what? By concocting all this claptrap including the “Philosophy,” the magazine and the Playboy Clubs, Hef succeeded in conning the girls into surrendering their advantages and giving the boys what they want for nothing. Hats off to Hef! Ain’t equality grate?
Not only that. “Liberated women” now get to compete with men in the work force, a phrase aptly chosen, because many who would otherwise stay at home are forced by government, including tax policy and inflation, to check the want ads. Remember that French Communist Simone de Beauvoir, patron saintess of the womanoid movement, wrote that in le nouvel ordre mondial women would not be allowed to stay at home. The government would force them out into the street.
A good example of the mentality we are talking about comes to us from one of my daughters-in-law. In conversation with other young women at a social event, she remarked that she does not go out to work. The others were teachers with “education degrees.” Of course, such a degree is an almost universal farce, not a real degree at all; usually a mélange of the Communist theories of Stalinists like John Dewey and genuinely valuable skills and materials like Playdough, Legos and games conducted with perfect competence by mothers at home, even mothers with mere high school educations.
One of the young teachers actually talked down to my daughter-in-law from a lofty union perch, observing that staying at home was probably the “best you could do.” Characteristically quite modest, this time my daughter-in-law rose up, explaining that, no, not quite. At a prestigious American university, she started out studying to become an electrical engineer.
After a couple of years, she decided mechanical engineering would be more fun. She completed that program, worked for a couple of years, then returned to complete her electrical engineering; so, she has two engineering degrees. She worked for a huge defense contractor in digital design and then in an extremely sensitive job for the city of Los Angeles, which she could have shut down. I pleaded with her to do so before she quit; she explained she didn’t need to because it would happen by itself.
How she did it, I don’t know, but she was able to con one of my sons into getting up and going to work every day, on top of which he comes home and gives her his money, while she takes naps whenever she likes, decorates their home and makes exquisite meals from haute cuisine cookbooks with an engineer’s skill. Needless to say, I shall not tell my son he has been taken, because I certainly have no intention of jeopardizing my enjoyment of her classic feasts.
On the occasion in question, she told the uppity, young teacher, “I am liberated now! I choose to be where I am!” The chastened educator, who probably could not have lasted one week in an engineering program, turned the color of Jorge W. Boosh’s politics and slunk off, returning to the “liberated” world in which her feet hit the floor while it is often still dark, she must fight the traffic and pay her own bills. And there is much worse.
You have seen them. They litter the landscape, casualties just as much, in a different way, as our finest in Iraq, victims of the present war in which the target is our country and its Christian underpinnings. The women who have bought the satanic lie expressed as follows by CIA fraud and erstwhile Playboy bunny Gloria Steinem, before her marriage (to a man), “A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle.”
One feels intense sympathy for these victims, the same sympathy I feel for our wounded veterans. They are the women who were told they could master the clock, but whose time has run out, the women whose blooms have long since fled the rose, who now realize too late, in maturity, that they have been cheated. You see them in little groups, comforting each other because they are alone, bypassed, without family, without children. Many write to me, no doubt aware of my sympathy. In sessions to come, I shall show you their laments.
They were told they could not “find themselves” as wives. Many actually hit the road. It became something of an epidemic, no doubt inspired, in some part, by “The Stepford Wives.” A few men have told me wistfully, uncomprehending, that they came home from work bearing the paycheck, to find their wives gone. Sometimes the furniture disappeared along with them. Yes, we are talking about a species of derangement.
They were told not to have children, that children would trouble their figures and careers. But guess what? The male plumbing is relatively simple; the female exquisitely complex. Why would God install such sophisticated, expensive plumbing if He did not mean it to be used? Did you notice that women who have a few children are thereby protected from ravaging diseases that afflict the childless? Why don’t the womanoids make a point of warning real women to that effect?
Remember the “population explosion” and Zero Population Growth? It got so bad at one point that pregnant women were publicly insulted. I recall one lady, the wife of an airline pilot, who told me she was shopping in the produce section of a supermarket, when suddenly a womanoid confronted her, screaming about her obvious pregnancy and “the earth.” The accosted lady got away without needing to hit the creature with an eggplant.
Subscribe to the NewsWithViews Daily News Alerts!
The effect of all this, combined with the in-womb infanticide authorized by Roe v. Wade, has tricked innumerable American women into not having children at all, or killing them – deceived by conspirators who claim to know better than God – just in time for the illegal alien invasion of foreign women unburdened by such claptrap who pop out the kiddos like a toaster. Is this an accident? No, it’s called “population replacement,” another name for which is genocide, an essential element of the North American Union that would abolish the United States.
whole generation of women is now coming to realize what has been done
to them and who has done it. Maybe with their help, the next generation
can be saved. Needless to say, the devastation has been just as destructive
to our men; which, remember, is the purpose of the scam.
© 2008 - Alan Stang - All Rights Reserved