(or, I Have Seen the Future and it's Not a Pretty Sight)
Reader, you may have wondered more than once what a mature, serious blogger like Pavlov's Cat, given to bittersweet feminist analysis and eggheaded discussions of mixed metaphor, iambic pentameter and so on, is doing with a saturated-musk-pink blog swarming with cute kitties and twee toons.
The answer, Reader, is that I had a bloody good look around the blogosphere before I dipped my toe in it (mixed metaphor alert, oops, too late) and was forcibly struck by the fact that blogging polarises the population in curious if unsurprising ways. Non-bloggers do know deep down in the murky recesses of their subconsciouses that the human world is divided with crystalline clarity along two intersecting axes -- men and women, and wingnuts and moonbats -- but it is only we bloggers who get our noses rubbed in this unsavoury fact on a daily basis.
Male wingnuts in their early 20s, of the kind to be found in their millions slavering over at the feet of T*m Bl**r and singled out for pre-emptive ticking-off by Twisty (see final paragraph of 'Notes for First-Time Vistors ...' section), would not -- if I may be allowed a particularly unpleasant mixed metaphor and cliche to boot -- touch a woman's blog with a barge pole except to spray, in either one way or the other.
This is because they fundamentally hate and fear women (and animals as well): hence the pink and the kittens, whose function is akin to that of Baygon surface spray or one of those gate signs that say 'Never mind the dog, beware of the owner.' The plan was that troll children like this, if they happened to stray into my territory, would take one look at the site, go EEEEWWWWW, call me a lot of really unpleasant sexist names that they can't spell properly, and then bugger off sharpish without leaving any steaming little piles in the Comments box.
I have put the asterisks and no link to the Bl**r blog because it's clear that he spends hours of every day autogoogling and would be sending his moronic minions over here in swarms within ten minutes. I know this because it has happened to poor Jessculture.
And here's a sample:
"I'm young (<30), born again Christian, conservative, married, 4 kids & loving wife.
We are the future."
Now, I'm glad that this upright young sausage has a belief system of sorts and that his wife loves him. That's nice. But I can only hope he realises, soon enough for it to drive him completely nuts, that his four kids will swing the political pendulum back the other way again and rebel against his every belief, just as his own generation has done. I'd like to see that. I'd like it so much that I might even hold off on the hemlock for a while longer.
9 comments:
I never actually realised that your blog was pink until reading this post. Odd.
I wonder if Mrs Peel forms much of the same function on my blog - I haven't had any troll infestations yet.
I like the colour scheme and pics. I guess I'll never pass muster as a RWDB.
Nice to know only Christians can have a loving wife. I must be outside the curve with The Beloved.
My only worry is that our child will be encouraged to rebel and hence the act of rebellion will be not to rebel.
Cristy -- that is very encouraging -- it means the content is more noticeable than the wrapping. (For better or worse.)
Tigtog - she may well. Or they may simply be frightened by the very high level of some of the discussions, though I have noticed that young male RWDBs tend not to realise when they are out of their league.
Shaun -- that's nice, I'm glad you like the colours and pics, but then, you are a man of exceptional taste, as your attitude to Richard Thompson and Steve Earle proves beyond doubt. ('Our child'? Are you and Mrs Shaun in the Zoe and Armaniac club? Many congrats if so. Wow, a whole new baby boom ...)
Of course I haven't used any graphics that I didn't actually like myself; I have just given my girlie side free rein. Besides, to quote Leonardo da Vinci, 'The smallest feline is a masterpiece.'
I've just been to Jess and couldn't believe the comments, in fact I've burnt the bum out of the cauliflower because I spent too long there. I'd have liked to hear from the loving wife of 4 kids but I don't suppose she'd leave the cauli in case it got burnt.
Its nice and girly and smells of lavender.
I once was the focus of the Madonna/whore complex of one of the rabid conservative bloggers who would call me a babykiller one day and the next would tell me how much he respected me, nonetheless (like, whatevs dude). One day I think he got bored of lifting me up and down from the pedestal, so he wandered off, thankfully.
Anyway, I find blogging about knitting is much the same as pinkness. Sorts out the wheat from the chaff.
cats. That's all I'll say.
Cats and Father Ted.
I didn't notice the pink either, I do like cats, given my druthers I druther have Mrs Peel.
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