Tuesday, May 24, 2011

More Barbie Math

As Barbie says, "Math is HARD!" Except it really isn't. Just too hard for feminists.

I reworked the figures because I noticed that a VINTAGE Barbie doll does seem to have a bigger bust than the new Barbies do. So what if Ms. College Wonkeye was right???

She isn't. Nothing to worry about.

As a matter of fact, in order to get the bust measurement of 39" that Wonkeye got, real Barbie would have to be SIX FEET EIGHT INCHES TALL! And at that height, her waist would NOT be 18 inches, but rather 25.5 inches!!! Let that sink in a second. No matter WHAT you do with the numbers, her proportions are WRONG. They're based on the old, discredited numbers some woman's group came out with many years ago and that were discredited even then, but the eating disorders associations STILL use the figures. She built the model without ever checking the freaking DIMENSIONS or the MATH! College student my...eye. And all her fellow students are listening to this bullshit. (I'll post the math in a second.)

The arms would NOT be little sticks like our friend has them to look like; the arms would, at 6'8", have diameter of 3.5". Which is thin, but NOT freakish and NOT what Wonkeye built. In fact, the circumference of the arms at 6'8" is not much more than the circumference of my own arms NOW, and remember I'm chubby. A thin woman naturally has thinner arms than that. (Admittedly I've lost a lot of weight of late, but whatever.)

SO HERE WE GO - Barbie MATH! (The numbers have all been rounded off, but don't start imagining that makes any significant difference; that's the fucking PURPOSE of rounding off - to get very close but not fully precise. You wanna get precise, I'll DO that, but it's an exercise in futility - our model-building anorexic is STILL gonna get pwned.)

at 5'10" the conversion factor is 6.36

making bust 34"
waist 22"
hips almost 32"

No wispy waif THERE; nor a bizarrely buxom blimp-chest

at 6'2" conversion factor is 6.7

making bust 36.8" (hint - I'm 5'2" and my bust is MUCH bigger than that)
waist 23.5"
hips 33.5"

at 6'7" the conversion factor is 7.18

making bust 38.5 inches
waist 24.5
hips 35

at 6'8" conversion factor is 7.27

making bust almost 40
waist 25.5
hips 36.3
Upper arm circumference = 11 inches

Arms - those stick arms really bug me, so I took my own arm measurements. My upper arms' DIAMETER (i.e. measurement straight through the middle) is 4 and a half inches. Does 6'8" Barbie have giant arms? Hell no; in fact, she's got arms similar to MINE - 3.5 inches diameter!!

Now I'm 5'2" and we're talking about a 6'8" woman here, so sure the arms will appear thin, but NOT FREAKISHLY THIN as the model demonstrates. In fact, I dug out my old picture album the other night, the one I've kept since I was 12, and I have a picture of me with my arm raised - you know what? It looks VERY MUCH like the way Barbie's arms look on the actual doll, and if I had measurements, I bet my life they'd be SMALLER than Barbie's. Yes, I was very skinny - hell, I didn't measure up to Barbie's bust, waist OR hips.

All in all, her math sucks, she's wrong, and somebody's LYING.

In fact, I demand to see her fucking upper arm measurements so I can calculate the circumference. (Right off the bat you know they are wrong, because Barbie's arms are curvily SHAPED and not just sticks.)

Oh, Ms. Wonkeye, you have a LOT to explain. START, bitch!

Monday, May 23, 2011

Your WTF/Outrage For the Week - At Least

Do stick with this one because it just gets WEIRDER. Yeah, I know. Prepare for a strange journey here.

Here's the link to the article that I'm about to shred. You know, I looked the other way with Princess Boy in his tutu with his exploitative mother - you knew she was just using him. I didn't say anything about the woman putting pink toenail polish on her son for a magazine spread. People who said they saw a trend were shunned and tut-tutted. But you know what? I knew these people were trying to make a fucking point, and I WAS RIGHT. Let them defend THIS bullshit.

Parent's Keep Baby's Gender A Secret.

“So it’s a boy, right?” a neighbour calls out as Kathy Witterick walks by, her four month old baby, Storm, strapped to her chest in a carrier.

Ok. So far they might be a little eccentric and no more. Don't stop there.

Each week the woman asks the same question about the baby with the squishy cheeks and feathery blond hair.

Uh-huh. And it's early to tell unless you have access to his diapers. I get it.

Witterick smiles, opens her arms wide, comments on the sunny spring day, and keeps walking.

Yes, I read the title. Continue.

She’s used to it. The neighbours know Witterick and her husband, David Stocker, are raising a genderless baby. But they don’t pretend to understand it.

No one does. You know why? Because the baby is NOT genderless. The baby's sex was determined in the womb - males get XY chromosomes and undergo an androgen bath during the gestation that makes them male, brain and body. Females get XX chromosomes and no androgen, which makes them female, brain and body. A very very small percentage get mutated or faulty genes that render them sterile and give them XXY or XYY and intersexed genitalia. A small mutation that often comes with a heavy price. It has been the standard to chop off anything that looks male and raise them as females. This is based on LIES Dr. John Money told because he believed ALL males should be "gelded" at birth and because he botched a circumcision on a pair of identical male twins, causing one to lose his penis. He decided to go for broke and talked the family into castration and raising the boy as a girl, complete with hormones, vaginoplasty (well, he pushed for it but the child resisted the pervert's meddling - and yes, he was a pervert as well), dresses, female socialization and the whole deal. It was the perfect experiment because it came with a built-in control (the genetic clone, the identical twin who was a boy) and FINALLY they could prove once and for all that nurture, not nature, determines gender. As the feminists have always said.

The victim of this human experiment, David Reimer, spent his youth and early adulthood in a state of constant near-suicide, and his childhood knowing something was dreadfully, horribly wrong with him. Unlike some people, he did not blame his parents, who really only did the best they could and listened to self-appointed "experts" like Money, who were supposed to help the child. When he finally found out what had been done to him, he stopped taking female hormones, started taking male hormones, and switched identities to his original one as a male. The story became the subject of an excellent book, "As Nature Made Him". Anyone interested in the "fluidity" of gender needs to read that book.

Well, meet the new experiments in fluid gender identity. 3 innocent children, two boys and a we-don't-know. Well, at least no one's burning their penises off. Yet.

While there’s nothing ambiguous about Storm’s genitalia, they aren’t telling anyone whether their third child is a boy or a girl.

Yeah, we get it. Haha, big April Fool; if we don't tell, it didn't happen. Or something.

The only people who know are Storm’s brothers, Jazz, 5, and Kio, 2, a close family friend and the two midwives who helped deliver the baby in a birthing pool at their Toronto home on New Year’s Day.

Eventually the child might catch on, too. Except they're fucking with his head so bad, maybe he won't.

“When the baby comes out, even the people who love you the most and know you so intimately, the first question they ask is, ‘Is it a girl or a boy?’” says Witterick, bouncing Storm, dressed in a red-fleece jumper, on her lap at the kitchen table.

Yeah, they're usually being polite. If you want to play games, no one's gonna really give a shit. Play on.

“If you really want to get to know someone, you don’t ask what’s between their legs,” says Stocker.

And you thought *I* was classy with my F-bombs. That right there? That's REAL class. It doesn't occur to me to think about dicks or meat-curtains when I ask if a baby is a boy or girl, but you just MADE it ugly, thanks. Asshole.

When Storm was born, the couple sent an email to friends and family: “We've decided not to share Storm's sex for now — a tribute to freedom and choice in place of limitation, a stand up to what the world could become in Storm's lifetime (a more progressive place? ...).”

You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.

Their announcement was met with stony silence. Then the deluge of criticisms began. Not just about Storm, but about how they were parenting their other two children.

And THERE is the rub and the million dollar question. If it were merely a matter of not telling other people about the new baby and what its gender is, that wouldn't be much of a big deal. But the fact is they have two older boys who have been twisted like pretzels with this gender-bending shit, and THAT has their family and friends concerned.

It has me disgusted and horrified.

Allow me.

The grandparents were supportive, but resented explaining the gender-free baby to friends and co-workers. They worried the children would be ridiculed. Friends said they were imposing their political and ideological values on a newborn. Most of all, people said they were setting their kids up for a life of bullying in a world that can be cruel to outsiders.

All arguments that could actually be overcome, if you hadn't already fucked up your two older boys beyond recognition.

Witterick and Stocker believe they are giving their children the freedom to choose who they want to be, unconstrained by social norms about males and females. Some say their choice is alienating.

Yeah yeah, we've done this part - get to the older kids.

In an age where helicopter parents hover nervously over their kids micromanaging their lives, and tiger moms ferociously push their progeny to get into Harvard, Stocker, 39, and Witterick, 38, believe kids can make meaningful decisions for themselves from a very early age.

Yeah yeah, Stocker and Witterick are fools and assnuggets. Get on with it.

(FWIW babies can NOT make meaningful decisions for themselves. Happy to help.)

“What we noticed is that parents make so many choices for their children. It’s obnoxious,” says Stocker.

The irony of her calling other parents obnoxious. Oh boy.

Jazz and Kio have picked out their own clothes in the boys and girls sections of stores since they were 18 months old. Just this week, Jazz unearthed a pink dress at Value Village, which he loves because it “really poofs out at the bottom. It feels so nice.” The boys decide whether to cut their hair or let it grow.

Ahhh yes, there's nothing obnoxious about THAT, now, is there? Now how, pray tell, did these boys get the idea that overly feminine *stereotypes* like poofy pink dresses, are what they really really want? You know, I didn't make a deal out of gender either, and my son *and* my daughter liked to spend their time in comfortable jeans and cotton t-shirts for the most part. There are a majority of girls that you have to push if you ever wanted to see them in something pink, much less a poofy dress. I didn't bother but some people want it on special occasions. I guess I was a'doin' it all wrong - I should have put my SON in the dress and left my daughter in the jeans and T-shirt. Dresses are not acceptable for little girls, who are merely being taught to obey the oppressive patriarchy, but boys need to be...well damnit, they need to be GIRLS. Even if real girls aren't usually like that. The more stereotypical, the better.

Like all mothers and fathers, Witterick and Stocker struggle with parenting decisions. The boys are encouraged to challenge how they’re expected to look and act based on their sex.

The oldest is FIVE. Just WHO is "expecting" him to do anything? Only you moonbats, and YOU expect him to wear poofy pink dresses. Assholes.

“We thought that if we delayed sharing that information, in this case hopefully, we might knock off a couple million of those messages by the time that Storm decides Storm would like to share,” says Witterick.

What the fuck's the difference? Your oldest son has had five years of these alleged messages and he still wears dresses and does his hair like a girl. Obviously it didn't hurt him.

Or did it?

They don’t want to isolate their kids from the world, but, when it’s meaningful, talk about gender.

No, I'm sure you'd prefer the "boys" went out and evangelized for your moonbat gender-bending.

And heaven knows you don't put any messages into his head with every meaningful "talk" about gender that you have with him.

This past winter, the family took a vacation to Cuba with Witterick’s parents. Since they weren’t fluent in Spanish, they flipped a coin at the airport to decide what to tell people. It landed on heads, so for the next week, everyone who asked was told Storm was a boy. The language changed immediately. “What a big, strong boy,” people said.

These people apparently don't understand or appreciate politeness in strangers. Like I said, moonbats, they don't REALLY give a shit.

The moment a child’s sex is announced, so begins the parade of pink and barrage of blue. Tutus and toy trucks aren’t far behind. The couple says it only intensifies with age.

I call bullshit. I know lots of mothers who don't LIKE pink or even blue. I like blue fine, but our daughter was very seldom in pink because I don't like it. She wore dresses of baby blue, white, forest green, black velvet with magenta trim, and deep crimson as an infant. My son wore nightgowns (kimonos, they called them) of white, baby patterns, yellow and green when he was a baby. Both wore one-piece sleepers frequently, or overalls with feet. Of denim, fluffy blue like the cookie monster, yellow, patterns, etc. Both wore baby sweatsuits of various patterns and colors. Hmm...looks like I'm the more liberal parent since as they got older I really did let them pick their own clothes (within reason) and never pushed a set of ideas on either one...which is why my son didn't wear pink tutus "by choice". No one wants to wear that shit.

“In fact, in not telling the gender of my precious baby, I am saying to the world, ‘Please can you just let Storm discover for him/herself what s (he) wants to be?!.” Witterick writes in an email.

Well it's a...nice...thought, but Storm already has a sex, and is either male or female, no matter how long you delay telling other people. We don't just get to snap our fingers and wish ourselves to be another gender.

But we'll know VERY soon if Storm is REALLY a boy or girl. If it wears lots of pink and dresses and grows its hair long into pigtails, it's a boy. If it dresses like a truck driver and sports a crew cut, it's a girl. Because that's what you're REALLY doing, and everybody knows it.

Yeah, I can imagine the look of horror on your face if you ever actually had a girl and she wanted to wear the pink poofy dress. (By the way, it's obvious by the fact you're doing this that he's a boy - a girl doesn't have to make excuses for wearing pants anymore.)

Stocker teaches at City View Alternative, a tiny school west of Dufferin Grove Park, with four teachers and about 60 Grade 7 and 8 students whose lessons are framed by social-justice issues around class, race and gender.

Big shocker there. What's ACTUALLY shocking is that people send their children to this monstrosity. Getcher leftist indoctrination here!

When Kio was a baby, the family travelled through the mountains of Mexico, speaking with the Zapatistas, a revolutionary group who shun mainstream politics as corrupt and demand greater indigenous rights. In 1994, about 150 people died in violent clashes with the Mexican military, but the leftist movement has been largely peaceful since.

Yes, a group of citizens in a declared war against their country since 1994. Images of Che Guevara dominate Zapata villages.

Last year, they spent two weeks in Cuba, living with local families and learning about the revolution. Witterick has worked in violence prevention, giving workshops to teachers. These days, she volunteers, offering breastfeeding support. At the moment, she is a full-time mom.

Hey! What do you MEAN staying home full time and breastfeeding? Don't you know you should let the MAN breastfeed and stay home full time while you go out and work for the bread? Otherwise you're being oppressed! Oh, you're too lazy to work; good for thee and not for me, eh? Yeah, I got it.

Both come from liberal families. Stocker grew up listening to Free to Be ... You and Me, a 1972 record with a central message of gender neutrality. Witterick remembers her brother mucking around with gender as a teen in the ’80s, wearing lipstick and carrying handbags like David Bowie and Mick Jagger.

DAMN, Marlo Thomas/That Girl. I was raised on the same shit, that album is the soundtrack to the early grades. Hey, I didn't know WHY I was feminist, I just knew I was. They didn't exactly explain their indoctrination. As for Bowie and Jagger...eh, no. I don't want to distract from your lovely narrative here. Pray go on.

The family lives in a cream-coloured two-storey brick home in the city’s Junction Triangle neighbourhood. Their front porch is crammed with bicycles, including Kio’s pink and purple tricycle.

Naturally. My daughter rode her trike many hours every day, until her thigh muscles were as strong as mine. It was dark red. So was my son's. But you're not trying to prove a point, oh heavens no.

Inside, it’s organized clutter. The children's arts and crafts projects are stacked in the bookcases, maps hang on the walls and furniture is well-used and of a certain vintage.

Well I'm sure you won't let them play with anything traditionally masculine, so what the hell else are they gonna do? They can't go toss a football or roll tonka trucks around, or Thomas the Tank Engine trains, as my son loved to do, right?

Let me break in here for a minute - I raised them the same and they were almost the same age. Toys were all shared in the beginning. (Until I wised up and started letting them OWN things individually.) The gajillion Thomas the Tank Engine incarnations around the house were played with quite differently by the children. While my son didn't care that they had faces and merely wanted to see wheels move and figure out how they worked, as well as stuff the compartment with toy cargo, my daughter had another way of imagining. She looked at the faces, and arranged the trains according to size. The biggest one was the daddy, the middle one was the mommy, and the little one was the baby. So then she played house. I did not direct this; I was actually kind of surprised to discover it. But boys and girls are different.

On a recent Tuesday, the boys finish making paper animal puppets and a handmade sign to celebrate their dad’s birthday. “I love to do laundry with dad,” reads one message.

So mom's home full time while dad works, but he still has to do the laundry. It's a woman's world! You men are just living in it. Oh, and you bring home that "money" stuff we need. Good, now scrub the floor and dream of a just society where we won't HAVE to "work" as you call it for that green stuff.

Yes, I know I already don't have to, but if YOU didn't have to you'd have more time to clean. Now shut up and finish the dishes.

Witterick practices unschooling, an offshoot of home-schooling centred on the belief that learning should be driven by a child’s curiosity. There are no report cards, no textbooks and no tests. For unschoolers, learning is about exploring and asking questions, “not something that happens by rote from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. weekdays in a building with a group of same-age people, planned, implemented and assessed by someone else,” says Witterick. The fringe movement is growing. An unschooling conference in Toronto drew dozens of families last fall.

I don't have anything against home or un-schooling, but let's wait until we find out WHY this family does it, considering dad is a teacher in a hippy-dippy school to begin with.

The kids have a lot of say in how their day unfolds. They decide if they want to squish through the mud, chase garter snakes in the park or bake cupcakes.

3 guesses which they usually choose. I mean, mom's home and she needs her SWEETS, dammit, so get baking already.

Daddy'll do the dishes when he gets home.

Jazz — soft-spoken, with a slight frame and curious brown eyes — keeps his hair long, preferring to wear it in three braids, two in the front and one in the back, even though both his parents have close-cropped hair. His favourite colour is pink, although his parents don’t own a piece of pink clothing between them. He loves to paint his fingernails and wears a sparkly pink stud in one ear, despite the fact his parents wear no nail polish or jewelry.

Oh REALLY? Well, isn't that surprising, I WONDER where he got the idea to start painting his nails and pierce his ear for the sparkly pretty things? I mean, considering they stay home, don't have peer influences, and basically spend their time with mom and dad?

Kio keeps his curly blond hair just below his chin. The 2-year-old loves purple, although he’s happiest in any kind of pyjama pants.

“As a result, Jazz and now Kio are almost exclusively assumed to be girls,” says Stocker, adding he and Witterick don’t out them. It’s the boys’ choice whether they want to offer a correction.

OUT them? That's an interesting choice of words. It's almost...not quite but almost...as if you WANT them to be transsexual and lop off their male parts to become women when they can.

And I bet you DID think the older sibling in the original picture was a girl, didn't you? Well, he looks, acts, and dresses like a stereotypical girl, why wouldn't you?

On a recent trip to High Park, Jazz, wearing pink shorts, patterned pink socks and brightly coloured elastics on his braids, runs and skips across the street.

Yeah, we get it. It's sickening.

**I** didn't traipse through the park looking like a Barbie reject in head-to-toe pink; I hated pink. In fact, I don't know any girls in SCHOOL who wore pink. So what's the deal with the pink and the idea that he's being feminine? He's not being feminine, he's being a stereotype.

“That’s a princess!” says a smiling crossing guard, ushering the little boy along. “And that’s a princess, too,” she says again, pointing at Kio with her big red sign.


Jazz doesn’t mind. One of his favourite books is 10,000 Dresses, the story of a boy who loves to dress up.

I'm sure. So you already have books of indoctrination and that's where he got these ideas about pink and dresses and dressing up even though mom doesn't.

But he doesn’t like being called a girl.

You just said he doesn't mind. Figure it out before speaking to me, piker.

Recently, he asked his mom to write a note on his application to the High Park Nature Centre because he likes the group leaders and wants them to know he’s a boy.

Early signs of rebellion?

Jazz was old enough for school last September, but chose to stay home. “When we would go and visit programs, people — children and adults — would immediately react with Jazz over his gender,” says Witterick, adding the conversation would gravitate to his choice of pink or his hairstyle.

That’s mostly why he doesn’t want to go to school. When asked if it upsets him, he nods, but doesn’t say more.

And, the money quotes! She KNOWS it upsets him, and the whole thing is going against his grain, but he needs to please mom and dad, so he wears pink and pigtails and prances around like a filly. I mean, kids are rotten, they can make fun of another kid for anything or nothing, so I'm not complaining about that. But the need to please mom and dad is extremely powerful, and the way to please THESE barking moonbats is to go against your maleness and masculinity in any way possible - no wonder the kid picks stereotypical clothes instead of stuff ANY little girl would want - because it DOESN'T come natural, it ISN'T what he really wants, and he's acting to please parents who make it clear they would like him to act like a girl if he's a boy and a boy if he's a girl. (I would almost wish they'd actually have a girl, but the last thing fucktards like this need is another innocent mind to warp and psyche to damage.)

Instead he grabs a handmade portfolio filled with his drawings and poems. In its pages is a booklet written under his pseudonym, the “Gender Explorer.”

Clearly he made up the pseudonym himself. What, didn't your 5 year old use words like "Gender Explorer"?

In purple and pink lettering, adorned with butterflies, it reads: “Help girls do boy things. Help boys do girl things. Let your kid be whoever they are!”

In a nutshell. Boys should do GIRL things and girls should do BOY things. THAT I believe he might have written. After all, it's the message he's been given.

Storm was named after whipped winds and dark rain clouds, because they are beautiful and transformative.

“When I was pregnant, it was really this intense time around Jazz having experiences with gender and I was feeling like I needed some good parenting skills to support him through that,” says Witterick.

Oh brother, try leaving him the fuck ALONE for a few hours.

Face it, lady, you ARE the helicopter parent you hate; you just make different decisions than they do.

It began as a offhand remark. “Hey, what if we just didn’t tell?” And then Stocker found a book in his school library called X: A Fabulous Child’s Story by Lois Gould. The book, published in 1978, is about raising not a boy or a girl, but X. There’s a happy ending here. Little X — who loved to play football and weave baskets — faces the taunting head on, proving that X is the most well-adjusted child ever examined by “an impartial team of Xperts.”

OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE, Do these people get ALL their parenting ideas from FICTIONAL CHILDREN'S BOOKS ABOUT GENDER-BENDING? Do they think that's a BALANCED or SENSIBLE approach to child-rearing?

From the book.

So they bought plenty of sturdy blue pyjamas in the Boys' Department and cheerful flowered underwear in the Girls' Department. And they bought all kinds of toys. A boy doll that made pee-pee and cried, "Pa-pa". And a girl doll that talked in three languages and said "I am the Pres-i-dent of Gen-er-al Mo-tors". They also bought a story-book about a brave princess who rescued a handsome prince from his ivory tower, and another one about a sister and brother who grew up to be a baseball star and a ballet star, and you had to guess which was which.

I'll take ONE guess, and I guarantee I get it right the first time.

Apparently X's parents were so fucking stupid THEY got their parenting ideas from children's books and toys too. How meta.

“It became so compelling it was almost like, How could we not?” says Witterick.

Yeah, we get it. Your new boy is an experiment to you. As were the other two, but you want one that's untainted now.

There are days when their decisions are tiring, shackling even. “We spend more time than we should providing explanations for why we do things this way,” says Witterick. “I regret that (Jazz) has to discuss his gender before people ask him meaningful questions about what he does and sees in this world, but I don't think I am responsible for that — the culture that narrowly defines what he should do, wear and look like is.”

First of all, a child's gender isn't meaningless, and you'll find that out. But more importantly, if you don't like those questions, there's a simple answer to it - STOP DRESSING YOUR BOY LIKE A GIRL. Stop making him feel bad if he doesn't wear pink and purple and sparkly earrings and nail polish and braids, you assnuggets! Then he can start answering "meaningful" questions about who he is without having to explain why in hell he's dressed like a princess if he's a boy!

Longtime friend Ayal Dinner, 35, a father two young boys, was surprised to hear the couple’s announcement when Storm was born, but is supportive.

“I think it’s amazing that they’re willing to take on challenging people in this way,” says Dinner. “While they are political and ideological about these things, they’re also really thinking about what it means and struggling with it as they go along.”

Lemme explain something, Mr. Dinner. You're not SUPPOSED to use your children to challenge the world. You're not supposed to conduct human experimentation on them. You're not supposed to use them to work out your theories. You're not supposed to USE them at all.

Dinner understands why people may find it extreme. “Although I can see the criticism of ‘This is going to be hard on my kid,’ it’s great to say, ‘I love my kid for whoever they are.’”

IF that's what you're doing. Hint: that isn't what these people are doing. They're not loving their children for whoever they ARE but rewarding them for opposing their own gender's stereotypes by using the opposite gender's stereotypes. That doesn't fall under loving them "for who they are". Loving them for who they are is when your child turns out to be gay (which they discover FOR THEMSELVES) and you don't offer them any rejection; that they in fact are comfortable coming to you and telling you what they are because they know you love them no matter what. This? Isn't THAT.

On a recent trip to Hamilton, Jazz was out of earshot when family friend Denise Hansen overheard two little girls at the park say they didn’t want to play with a “girl-boy.” Then, there was the time a saleswoman at a second-hand shop refused to sell him a pink feather boa. “Surely you won't buy it for him — he's a boy!” said the woman. Shocked, and not wanting to upset Jazz, Witterick left the store.

Oh, SHE was shocked. Why the fuck are you buying a little kid a BOA? What is he, Ava GABOR? I've never KNOWN a girl who had a boa - they're certainly not age-appropriate (hell, they're dumb altogether, really). Just proves to me anew that you're NOT letting him be himself; you're pushing this shit on him left and right. That didn't come out of nowhere. And YOU'RE shocked. Asshole.

Parents talk about the moment they realize they would throw themselves in front of a speeding truck to save their child from harm, yet battle the instinct to overprotect. They want to encourage independence. They hope people won’t be mean. They pray they aren’t bullied. No parent would ever wish that for their child.

Heh, yeah I remember that moment. My son was racing towards the stove on which sat an enormous pot (gallons) of boiling water. He was just going headlong, straight at it. Well, I had to get there faster (and he was a fast little fucker) so I ran, knowing that **I** was going to take a few gallons of boiling water and end up dead or ruined for life. But you do it, because you have to. If it were a bullet or a speeding truck or train, same thing. In that case, the nice thing was my daughter caught him first, halfway there (I don't know if I would have made it, but I've exhibited superhuman abilities other times, so it's possible.) Yeah, there's no stopping that chick. She's awesome. I didn't much care about teasing but I didn't want anyone beating on them. I needn't have worried - my daughter was strong enough to foible any would-be beater, male or female, and eventually he got there too. And they have mouths of their own - instilling a little deserved confidence seems to go a long way - it's a shame no one did that for me. Could have avoided years of bottomless pain.

On a night after she watched her husband of 11 years and the boys play with sparklers after dark, Witterick, in a reflective mood, writes to say we are all mocked at some point for the way we look, the way we dress and the way we think.

Uh-huh. But you just had to make SURE it was inevitable, right?

“When faced with inevitable judgment by others, which child stands tall (and sticks up for others) — the one facing teasing despite desperately trying to fit in, or the one with a strong sense of self and at least two 'go-to' adults who love them unconditionally? Well, I guess you know which one we choose.”

Yeah. Unconditionally. See how much you love him if he's in karate class taking down his sparring partner and retiring home to push his Tonka bulldozers around in the sand for a while and work on his model trains, dressed in jeans and camo. (Hey, that was one of my favorite outfits when the kids were about 2 or 3 - the camo outfit with the matching hat. Pants, top, hat - all camo. BOTH the kids wore it because it was too cute to waste.) See how unconditionally you love him when he's doing boy things and he isn't dressed in a poofy pink dress and boa. Get back to me then.

Diane Ehrensaft is a California-based psychologist and mother of Jesse, a “girlyboy” who turned his trucks into cradles and preferred porcelain dolls over soldiers when he was a child. Her newly published book, Gender Born, Gender Made, is a guide for parents of nonconforming kids.

I guess it could happen. But "Jazz" isn't a non-conforming kid. He's conforming precisely to what's expected of him and what he's been raised to do. If Storm is a girl, she will be expected to dress masculinely and play with "boy toys" and so on. If Storm is a boy, he'll have to conform to feminine stereotypes. This really isn't hard to see. Left to his own devices, chances are very good Jazz would dress much more like a boy and play with rough-and-tumble toys and activities. Even now, he's sensitive about being mistakenly labeled a girl. Because it's one thing to put on a poofy pink dress and boa and nail polish, but quite another to be CALLED a girl. Heh, maybe the kid has spunk deep down inside. Here's hoping it can get out someday.

She believes parents should support gender-creative children, which includes the transgendered, who feel born in the wrong bodies, and gender hybrids, who feel they are part girl and part boy. Then there are gender “smoothies,” who have a blended sense of gender that is purely “them.”

Jazz isn't really gender-creative. He's just been raised to pretend he is. And he's certainly not a "smoothie" - intersexuality is actually pretty rare, it is a genetic malfunction, and yes, research shows it's best to let the intersexed alone body-wise, and let them grow up AS intersexed as opposed to labeling them. This? Isn't THAT.

Ehrensaft believes there is something innate about gender, and points to the ’70s, when parents experimented by giving dolls to boys and trucks to girls.

Yeah, I remember.

“It only worked up to a certain extent. Some girls never played with the trucks, some boys weren’t interested in ballet ... It was a humbling experiment for us because we learned we don’t have the control that we thought we did.”

No, you don't. Unless you just blare it at them day and night year after year and wear them down, like little Jazz has been. His parents have plenty of control. But even they can't stop him from wanting to be identified as a boy. Hell, I'm in favor of unschooling and even *I* feel sorry for the kid, being kept out of any activities because they make him such a freak that he can't take the pressure.

As to ballet - bullshit. First of all, ballet NEEDS men. They have to be very strong, very disciplined, and train for many years. You can't put on a ballet without men. Who's gonna catch the ballerinas? And some of us girls? HATE FUCKING BALLET! Oh, I hated that class more than any other. Just 2 hours of pain and strain for no discernible gain. The minute I was given the choice, I got the hell out of there and started taking Karate. Which was a nice mix of boys and girls. As difficult as the exercise was, at least that was fun.

But she worries by not divulging Storm’s sex, the parents are denying the child a way to position himself or herself in a world where you are either male, female or in between. In effect they have created another category: Other than other. And that could marginalize the child.

Oh stop with Storm - he's too little to understand anyway. Start worrying about what they've done to their other sons and if you can get through their pointy heads about it, tell them NOT to fucking escalate the damage on their new baby. THAT'S the issue.

“I believe that it puts restrictions on this particular baby so that in this culture this baby will be a singular person who is not being given an opportunity to find their true gender self, based on also what’s inside them.”

As they've ALREADY DONE with their other sons...why don't you worry about that for now?

While she accepts and supports Jazz’s freedom “to be who he is,” she’s concerned about asking two small boys to keep a secret about the baby of the family. “For very young children, just in their brains, they’re not ready to do the kind of sophisticated discernment we do about when a secret is necessary.”

Oh FFS talk about missing the point. You know, Storm must be a girl after all, because this character doesn't give a SHIT about what's been done to these boys; all she's worried about is the new baby.

Jazz says it’s not difficult. He usually just calls the baby Storm.

Yeah, Jazz is confused.

Dr. Ken Zucker, considered a world expert on gender identity and head of the gender identity service for children at Toronto’s Centre for Addiction and Mental Health, calls this a “social experiment of nurture.” The broader question, he says, is how much influence parents have on their kids. If Ehrensaft leans toward nature, Zucker puts more emphasis on nurture. Even when parents don’t make a choice, that’s still a choice, and one that can impact the children.

Did anyone send him the memo that this "experiment" is being conducted on innocent human children? Yes? Oh, he didn't give a shit. More interested in developing his theories, I get it.

When asked what psychological harm, if any, could come from keeping the sex of a child secret, Zucker said: “One will find out.”

I know, who cares? The point is that since they're doing it, let's write shit down and see what happens! What if the child is hurt - oh stop bothering me with irrelevant details; I want to re-prove what Dr. Money unwittingly PROVED with Reimer. Yes yes, I know our theories were originally founded on Money's discredited conclusions, but we have believed them so long it doesn't matter anymore. What matters is working on it until we can figure out a way to eliminate all masculinity from the earth. Yes, I know I'm a man - naturally I'm an exception; I'm a scientist, duh!

Out with the kids all day, Witterick doesn’t have the time or the will to hide in a closet every time she changes Storm’s diaper. “If (people) want to peek, that’s their journey,” she says.

Yeah, we already know she's lazy.

But if these neighbors are so up in arms, and the family members don't like it, why don't they take that "journey", peek at Storm's junk, and let the word out loud and clear? Fuck it, I would.

There are questions about which bathroom Storm will use, but that is a couple of years off. Then there is the “tyranny of pronouns,” as they call it. They considered referring to Storm as “Z”. Witterick now calls the baby she, imagining the “s” in brackets.

The tyranny of pronouns *giggle*. As to the bathroom, come on, everybody's gonna know by then. This woman isn't diligent enough to keep any secrets.

“Everyone keeps asking us, ‘When will this end?’” says Witterick. “And we always turn the question back. Yeah, when will this end? When will we live in a world where people can make choices to be whoever they are?”

/cue the violins/

Or when will someone, you know, peek in the diaper already.

There's also the 2-year old stage, when you can't KEEP a diaper on a kid. 2 year olds are NOTORIOUS streakers. Good luck trying to hide anything then LOL.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Michelle Ooooohhhhh Dear - Fashion Faux Pas

I'm going to try something different - let's laugh at Michelle Obama, the First Orangutan. I normally don't bother about people's "looks" but since they're parading her all over the place as a fashion example instead of a fashion victim, it's time. I mean, this wacko seldom looks much better than your average "decorator crab" (decorator crabs grab garbage and other flotsam off the ocean floor and stick it on their shells for ambience - they're like walking Sanford and Son shops. So is Michelle O.)

I came across THIS (http://www.damnlol.com/pics/633/70888c59aac0f033805a3190dd76e2cf.jpg Michelle Obama's Latest Looks) and felt fairly horrified. What in hell are they trying to do to me? Why are we paying millions of dollars per year to make this woman look "good" when she looks like the back of a junkie's car after an unfortunate one-night stand most of the time? And how can I make this even funnier? Well, here's a shitload of pictures and my personal commentary on them; best I can do. Do keep in mind that there ARE fashion dos and don'ts for any body type - Michelle's rather unappealing look could easily be taken into account when clothing her - a bit of cover for the arms, a certain kind of cut that flatters her, etc. No one is doing this. In fact, I theorize that someone is going out of their way to make her look as hideous as possible, while telling her (and US) all the while how great she looks.

I had a dress like that when I was 12. Oh, not that color, but that cheap material and stupid type of pattern. It doesn't age well.

She...well I guess she thinks that's "fancy". Nothing says fancy like a sleeveless stretch-top and ugly skirt.

I used to wear boots like that. In 1976. With my GAUCHOS. (I know the year because they only LASTED one year before they were *out*)

Hehe, yep, just like that.

You couldn't have picked a lovelier pair of pants or a better, more classy position by which to showcase bulging thighs. No, I'm not looking at the arms; you can't make me!

Ok, this is a little more like. Big flowing pants and the mid-heel pumps suit her, as does the jacket. Well, the jacket WOULD if she weren't absolutely married to the idea that tops must be AS SMALL AS POSSIBLE. Make it more like the coat Neo wore to storm the building with Trinity in the Matrix and it would be perfect. Of course you could make it a burqa and call it a day.

Her fashion advisers must have believed in whatever cause she was here touting, as this is the best I've seen her look. Simple and suited to her "flaws", she looks as good as she gets this time.

Well, you can't go wrong buried in a graduation gown, hidden behind a podium, and eclipsed by a big old University logo. Well done.

Also well done - nice pattern and cut (even if it does demonstrate her weird affinity for sleevelessness despite her arms) and they even fixed her hair and face a bit.

Which leads one to wonder why they would spotlight a trashy housedress (which is good enough for the White House, apparently) as a "look". Mrs. O has apparently just rolled out of bed, judging from the hair and the ugly nightie.

Let's Move! You first, Michelle.

This is the first in a trend that really upsets me - the puke-yellow color that seems to be her signature. Puke-yellow and no sleeves is her motto, and she's sticking to it!

More yellow, no sleeves. Told you.

She also appears to be about 6 months pregnant, but let's hope there is no such news and someone just gave her an unfortunately cut gown.

At second glance, the outfit isn't too bad. We have some sleeves, albeit short, and altogether it works ok.

At first glance, more yellow and again with the horrifying pose. Why does she DO that?

When in a photo op with Saturday Night Live alum, be sure to do an oddly curly "do" and minimize the breasts to look as flat-chested as possible, even if you aren't. By NO means wear any sleeves. Sleeves are teh debil.

Yikes! Ok ok, back to the ugly patterns! I'm sorry I suggested otherwise! No one wants to have nightmares about that scary face. (And what did they do to her hair??)

When wearing a cheap polyester with oversized patterns, use a cute little sweater cover-up. Because tight tops are all she knows - a flowing top or coverup would be unthinkable.

Pair with shoes that don't actually fit, because *everyone* wants to see your hammertoes. Especially when eating.

A threefer. She looks good here, but that could be deceptive - I mean, it's another cheap polyester with a tacky pattern, but she's also sitting next to the chicken-armed-and-legged man and the hambeast, so it could be an optical illusion.

She finally takes the advice about a nicely cut, flowing jacket, but it's in the baby-shit yellow yet again. Because you can never have too much diaper-shit colored fabric when that's your signature color.

Be sure the tacky rose-patterned shirt doesn't match for extra whallop.

Don't cry for me, Argentina! Well, ok, but I'm choking up already.

Evita Peron if she had no sense of color. And no sleeves. Again.

Are those her daughters? Who is dressing them like her? Polyester, patterns, no sleeves on either one. Why?

Sleeveless diaper-shit again. Muppets distract the eye from the hideous color scheme above, and make it seem almost sane. Being bizarrely colored themselves.

I like this one even though one side is manditorily sleeveless. It's got an interesting cut, the pattern isn't too loud, and they fixed her hair and eyes well. Which of course leaves us to see that startling underbite and oversized jaw/teeth. Hey, nobody's perfect.

Yep, I thought so. Her handlers/fashion consultants must have liked this cause - two good looks in a row? Not a coincidence.

Yeah I like to wear burlap car coats and stand next to Jessica Simpson too.

So...the basket is to take our attention off the dress and sweater that don't remotely match and would be ugly all by themselves anyway? What's that in the basket? It looks like receiving blankets. Why would you wear such an ugly dress to give out receiving blankets? And why pair it with something that clashes with it, making you see even MORE how ugly the dress is? Maybe it's Bag Lady couture.

You know I wasn't going to include this but rethought it. This highlights the whole problem and tells me that whoever they hired either hates her or is utterly clueless in this field. Joltin' Joe's wife is what leads me to believe this - they should really switch fashion teams.

See, Joe's wife's outfit is many things in comparison to the other. It's a much better, richer color. It's clearly a nicer fabric (looks like linen.) It's got the double buttons and is cut to fit around the waist. By contrast, MO's looks like yet more polyester, in an unflattering, unattractive color, not cut to fit but merely cinched around the waist with an oversized button. Once again the top is too small for her frame and for the rest of the outfit; as can be seen by the proportions of the other woman's jacket. But she's just waiting to take it off and sport her customary sleeveless look anyway.

Maybe Obama likes back, and that's why she flaunts her ass while continuing to wear tops 4 sizes too small with NO SLEEVES AGAIN. In ugly patterns.

Big buttons covered in fabric in patterns oversized for them are not okay.

I suppose they chose the lip colors to match the pink accents, but you don't line the lips of a jutting-lower-jaw-syndrome lady in a color 6 shades darker than the rest of her lips, then spotlight them with gloss. All it does it call attention to her mouth. And that's a bad thing.

The facial expression would suggest that she is pretty resistant to a nice, flowing, classy, non-patterned (i.e. nice color) cover-up. She seems to be wearing the earrings in protest and be suggesting with her eyes that "I'll wear it for now, asshole, but as soon as I can take this shit off and be sleeveless again, I'm DOING IT!"

Happily sleeveless again, someone has put her in nearly flesh-colored pants just to give me a nasty startle. Naturally this is paired/clashed with her signature diaper-shit color, which is why she consented to its being so long. The hair is skinned back for full effect.

"Ok, I'll wear the cover-up, but only if it's sleeveless. Yes, you heard me! A sleeveless cover-up! Get on it! And make the pants and shoes as ugly as possible. Yes, for them too - do it!"

"My color again - you heard me. All right, dammit, but only ONE sleeve. You heard me, ONE! And give me that non-matching double belt; I want my color NOTICED, dammit!"

"All right, I'll wear the nice color but only if it's rayon. Yes, rayon. And give me three strands of oversized black beads, because just minimizing the chest isn't ugly enough."

Guess Obama's grandmother's been busy tatting again. Well, at least it's sleeveless. And she got hold of the ever-important non-matching flower.

Yikes! Puke-yellow overload! Signature color overload! WARNING!

Ok, so why the hell doesn't the hideous skirt match the hideous top? Why would you want clashing baby-shit and puke yellows? Again the top and coverup are too small, but that's apparently standard.

One daughter looks unfortunately like Obama and the other seems to take after her mother. They're both dressed for the community pool.

And grandma's dressed to take them.

I...oy. Caption your own this time; this is exhausting. Besides, you can read her mind by now.


Except for the tiny electric blue non-sequitur. Where the hell did THAT come from? Must have been the only available sleeveless top. She pulled that out of the laundry just to fulfill her quota of clashes.

Of course the presidential seal was never MEANT to serve as a basis for choosing fashion colors, but she seems to think that's totally classy.

"OK so if I wear the nice coverup and the semi-flattering pants, what are you gonna give ME? I know, show my hammertoes! Full display, and a hideous top, those are my terms!"

Even Barry seems a bit disturbed at this point.

When wearing a couch slipcover fabric, be sure your toes are again on display. All 16 of them, if we're to judge by this picture.

Well...it's a nicely SHAPED dress, and seems to suit her body type. Which is why it's a hideous color and pattern, and of course SLEEVELESS.

Again with the toes. And how does she decide which clothes to put together? By all appearances, it's entirely random...except if it were random they might match on occasion, so I don't think it's that.

There seems to have been a rule for the women in the audience. Black and drab ONLY allowed. That's so MO could come in with her eye-popping red. Which is of course too tight and too small for her. As are the pants - yikes!

Decent enough outfit. Hence the eye-popping shoes, even if they don't come close to fitting (they're about 4 sizes too big and ready to fall off) and the oversized non-matching bag. Because you have to fill your RDA of ugly SOMEHOW, and she doesn't think her face is sufficient.

See, I told you they're making fun of her. There is no other explanation for allowing someone to appear in public in a top that so utterly clashes with the skirt. Just none.

That didn't stop them from doing it yet again. At first instant glance you don't see it. Then you do, and you can't unsee it.

"Yeah, I'm happy. The dress under this has no sleeves! Victorious!"

"I'm not going to your classy wine party unless I can wear the diaper-shit dress. No, I'm telling you now; it's my color and I'm sticking with it. Wait, it doesn't have sleeves, right?"

Friday, May 20, 2011

Bonehead Math-Moron Feminist LIES In the News AGAIN!

Check out this great MSN video: Barbie’s 39” bust, 18” waist stir body-image debate

Go ahead and watch the video - I'm about to blow it out the fuck of the water anyway. I'm most certainly not the first to do so - it doesn't take a genius to dismantle this tired old feminist LIE; it just takes 5th grade math and 2 minutes of fact-checking. Which apparently news outlets and television shows can't be bothered to do. What's much sadder is that not a single college student on this campus seemed to be bothered to do it either, and THAT is sad. It's bad enough her fellow students (such as the deeply SHAMED males) didn't fact-check or do the calculations; but for the myth-spreader herSELF to make it to major news outlets and...hell, even to have built this monstrosity without ever checking a single calculation? Inexcusable. Simply INEXCUSABLE. Ok, let me tell it my own way; after all, THEY do. (They are busy **mythbuilding**, after all.)

Well my god, look at that! It's monstrous! Men, be ashamed, be very ashamed! Mattel, hang your greedy corporate heads and take your public castigation for perpetrating this vile filth on the youth of America! If Barbie were real, THAT is what she'd look like. In fact, according to the stats published many years ago (I first heard them about 11 years ago; they were years old then), let's see what Barbie would be if she were real (in addition to the bizarre freak of nature we see above) - and you know what? I can't even play along anymore; I'm gonna start shredding. Then I'll backpedal and shred this new bullshit. Then we'll move on.

Barbie doll sales are targeted to girls ages three to 12

Well zomg, call the police! You know, I loved Barbie as a young girl. You know who gets to decide if a 3 year old girl gets a Barbie Doll? Her parents. I didn't allow Barbies in the house when my children were growing up; not because of this nonsense, but because Barbie was very worldly and I preferred something a little less shallow. My daughter bonded instead with a particular baby doll, who we have to this day. She could wear real diapers, and my daughter's own newborn baby clothes, which was an endless attraction. So she had a doll she liked to nurture and care for, and there's nothing wrong with that. (My son? Liked to take its head off and look inside it to see how the arms and so forth moved, and how it was made. And that's OK too; though feminists are horrified that he approached it differently than a female did, right from day one. Boys should be just like girls, after all, and that wasn't innate; we must have SOCIALIZED him to think the way he did, dammit! Idiot femtards.)

A girl typically collects seven Barbies during her childhood

Uh, ok. I had one, a Ken, and at one point a skipper or whatever the hell the other one is called. At the age of 2 1/2 a girl down the street had a bunch of Barbies, and it was her favorite toy. Hmm...she is chubby but she does have huge boobs now that she's grown up...I guess she should be ashamed of them, if feminists are to be believed about Barbie dolls.

More than a billion dollars worth of Barbie dolls and accessories were sold in 1993

Cool, glad to hear someone was doing well in business. Oh, wait, that's supposed to be bad? Uh...you suck.

If Barbie were a real woman, she would be nearly six feet, weigh 110 pounds and take a size three shoe. Her BMI would be 16, which fits the criteria for anorexia

Well I don't know about that; it's possible. Of course if it was based on the proportions our moron math-phobic girl up above used, it's a complete lie. And who the hell knows how tall she'd be? That's a VARIABLE you can use to plug numbers into to get the proportions; there is NO way to determine if that model is representing a 4 foot 10 woman or a 6 foot 10 woman.

She would walk on all fours due to her proportions

You mean those phony proportions the dipshit keeps using even though they have been debunked time and time again? Yeah, could be. After all, she's got a head 6 sizes too small to represent the doll and a chest 8 sizes too big to represent the doll. And those arms and legs this chick put on her are ALL out of proportion to ANY doll or person in the world.

1965’s Slumber Party Barbie came with a bathroom scale and a diet book

Haha! Obviously it didn't last long and no one even remembers it. Barbie's been mighty busy since then becoming a doctor and an astronaut and every other profession you can name...oh yeah, Barbie's been everything there is...except a wife and mother. Oh, girls WANTED it; they WANTED a baby and a husband for Barbie...Mattel said, "Yeah, no." Instead they came out with cardboard Ken, the boyfriend, and a baby for Barbie to SIT with as well as a kid sister. Barbie herself mustn't give birth because that would be BORING and pedestrian.

According to the idiots at the Toronto Sun, who didn't bother to fact-check this old myth or make some SIMPLE calculations,
“Yes, you can get all sorts of professions, but Barbie herself doesn’t change. Her success is not linked to hard work and schooling; her achievement is linked to her physical appearance.”
Oh REALLY? They're quoting a national Eating Disorders Center leader there, Suzanne Phillips. Msssssssssss. Phillips do you have ANY fucking idea what it takes to be an astronaut? IT'S COCK-SMASHINGLY DIFFICULT AND NO ONE GETS THERE VIA THEIR APPEARANCE. It just. isn't. possible. Astronauts go through utterly gruelling physical and mental challenges year after year after year. It's like taking your SATs on a treadmill underwater every single day for 20 years, that's what it's like. Doctors have to go through 4 years of college, 3 years of medical school, excessive testing, grueling residency, and THEN they get to hang out their shingle. And we're not even talking about a specialty or a surgeon. Barbie winks at the medical board and gets a license? Yeah, I don't think so. And neither do you...unless you're a fool and an uneducated asshole. Which you just may be. After all, simple math is beyond you.

The dipshit who built the phony model speaks again:
Slayen writes that she had “fond times” with her Barbie during childhood and that she felt the doll represented perfection and the ideal for young girls. She put her own skirt on the Barbie sculpture “to serve as a reminder that the way Barbie looks, the way I once looked, is not healthy and is not normal – whatever normal might mean.”

Yeah, your disclaimer at the end? Belies your thesis. If there is no normal, Barbie is just as "normal" as anyone else, you elitist bitch. And frankly, you DO look like a Barbie doll. But whatever. Now why in the HELL did you think Barbie was the ideal and that YOU should look like her and be built like her?

See, I had "fond times" with Barbie too. And you know what I noticed? That she was clearly shaped like the women of the 19th century who wore corsets to cinch in their waists and make their chests and hips seem extra-large. 19", which is a REALISTIC measurement if Barbie were brought to LIFE as a 5'7" woman, was not an unusual waist measurement for women who wore corsets. In fact, they preferred 'em smaller than THAT. And you know what else? It was a nightmare trying to get pants with a fitted waist onto that doll (even with a snap and a slot opening in back) so it never occurred to me that it was a REALISTIC goal to attain. Who wanted to go through that pain in the ass just to get their pants on every day? I mean if you're wearing hoop skirts and bloomers, I guess it's one thing, but for pants, it wasn't anything desirable, even if it could be achieved. Which it can. But who wanted it? And since when does anorexia give one a huge hips and bust FFS??? Come on, don't blame your fucking anorexia on an unrealistic doll (though not nearly freakishly unrealistic as your ridiculous model) because we ALL know anorexics do NOT have big blooming hips and bust like Barbie does. Frankly, that model you built just demonstrates your own body dysmorphia.

Now, go back to the video and click STOP directly on 1:41. Yes, the one where they show her idiot model next to an actual Barbie doll. I'll wait.


Well, wasn't THAT enlightening? What did you see there? Did that model look REMOTELY like the doll? No? Yeah, see, we don't even NEED to do the math to see the obvious (but we will anyway, to thoroughly humiliate these non-fact-checking fools) do we? For one thing, the HEAD she has on that thing is ludicrously tiny. I didn't know Barbie had anencephaly, but hers does. (Apparently the mind isn't very important to Ms. College Student.) Barbie has a very long neck (oops, hers doesn't) and a large head. In fact, Barbie's head nearly eclipses her chest, which is NOT freakishly large...it's large in proportion to her corset-sized waist, as are her hips, but her head isn't dwarfed by monstrous tits. And her arms are indeed thin, but HER (Ms. College) arms are pretty much the ACTUAL doll size rather than blown up to real proportions. Foul, Ms. College, Foul!

Then we get the genius "Doctor" of Eating Disorders (I'm doubting an MD here; she probably has a PhD in women's studies, which isn't a real discipline) - who proclaims that the model lets parents say with confidence, "Barbie may be fun and games, but she's - (significant tone here) - NOT REAL." Well slap my ass and call me Sally! (Er, don't.) My God, it's a REVELATION! Barbie ISN'T REAL.

I mean, I wasn't quite confident before; every day I would wake up and fear that the Barbies of the neighborhood were going to come to life, join forces, and mount a miniature creepy-ass invasion of some sort, probably involving paella and earthworms, but NOW, thanks to this model, I KNOW Barbie isn't real! Phew, thanks for setting us straight on that!

Ohhhhh dear. I just went further in the video - bitch is crosseyed FFS. No wonder she has no sense of proportion. Too bad she has no head for numbers - it's funny, because when the talking BARBIE said, "Math is hard," the feminists lost their shit. But...apparently it's too hard for ALL these women. These numbers, as our freak-model builder, Ms. College, acknowledges, are NOT something she checked out, but merely based on the National Eating Disorders website. And THOSE are based on numbers that came out of Australia many years ago, which were debunked then, and are quite easily debunked now, if you are blind and can't SEE that the dolls clearly do NOT have these proportions. (And shame on you, Mattel for never dispelling them, but instead pandering to the feminists and making statements like "These dolls are not based on real human proportions". Fire your public relations people and get the guy out of the fucking basement who builds the models and has actually mastered grammar school math, okay? Yeah, that one, in the goggles and overalls. HE'S your PR man. He will, once he's done laughing at this bullshit, set it straight once and for all.

As I'm about to do, with the help of Thomas Clough this time. (Yes, of course I could do it too - but I don't have a Barbie handy and I THOUGHT this shit was over with ten years ago since it's been debunked for so long.) Let's see the measurements of an actual doll and how they scale up -
First, get a Barbie and strip her naked.
Second, wrap ribbons of paper around her bust, waist and hips. Mark the circumference of each.
Third, lay the ribbons flat and measure each ribbon.
Fourth, choose a height for Barbie. An average height would be 5 foot 7 inches. After that, its all fifth-grade arithmetic.

My butt-naked Barbie measured 11.173 inches from her heel to the crown of her head. If that 11.173 inches is equal to 67 inches (5’7”), then my Barbie’s measurements are: bust 29.257 inches, waist 18.937 inches, hips 30.267 inches. If I assumed that Barbie’s height was 72 inches (6 feet), then her bust increases to a modest 31.44 inches, not the 39 inches that fevered feminists insist is warping the minds of American girls. The reduced waist-to-hip ratio helps Barbie’s clothes fit better; that is what Mattel means when they say she is not modeled on typical human proportions; it was not a reference to her bosom. Barbie is all about the clothes.

Ok so I would have said "buck-naked" but that's me. Now go search THOSE measurements and see what you get. Hmmm...pretty normal looking women to me; slightly cinched at the waist (not even nearly as much as I thought, either) and WITHOUT Pamela Anderson tits. Gee, who'da thunk? Suddenly, Japan Barbie looks pretty awesome again.

Japan Barbie® doll is inspired by the beautiful noblewomen of her country who were well trained in the martial arts, and experts in horsemanship, swordsmanship, and archery. She comes dressed in a striking red patterned kimono with black detailing. Multi-colored knee-high platform sandals and golden fan add to her allure. Red and white flowers accent her long dark hair, and striking face paint gives her an exotic air.

Sweet. I totally would have wanted one.

“Not only are her looks unattainable, but she also comes with a heavy price tag. So from a socioeconomic angle, there’s an aspiration to being able to afford a Barbie and her many accessories.” Remember that Barbie and those accessories can take up a whole aisle in any Toys R Us store. (Says the Eating Disorders chick.)

Oh, fuck you in the neck. You know the solution to that? DON'T FUCKING BUY IT. I had Barbie stuff, and some cool stuff, too, but I wanted the Dream House. I'm willing to bet my grandfather would probably have bought me one for Christmas despite its $300 price tag (we're talking 70s prices here!) but FFS how SPOILED does a kid have to be before they're insufferable?

So I didn't get the Dream House; you know what happened? I spent countless hours rigging up my grandmother's rusty old 2-level wheeled serving cart with shoeboxes and yarn and tinkertoys (the elevator) and MAKING stuff for this actually superior "house". My friend and I would play with this stuff by the hour, and rig up all sorts of shit for it. Imagination and a few simple basic supplies are a "poor" kid's best friend...or any kid who doesn't get every single thing she wants. And frankly, if you can't control a kid's tantrums, don't TAKE them into a toy store or a specific aisle. Learn how to say no. Practice delayed gratification. These are LIFE lessons, not just lessons for children. Socio-economic my ass; pushover parents are the problem there. I got toys once a year, at Christmas. Granted, I got a LOT of them, but my mother bought stuff all year long and it was ALL saved for the year-end orgy. My kids got small treats throughout the year and we didn't practice such a crazy Christmas; everyone does it their own way and within their own means. You don't let commercials rule your life; and you know, they aren't ORDERS, they're ADS. It IS possible to resist them.

The image of the papier mache Barbie brought to life is grotesque, says Phillips. “It mirrors the unrealistic and distorted images we see every day. We don’t see an image in a magazine or on TV that somehow hasn’t been altered. We lose sight of what is real and what is fiction.”

Yeah, even at 3 a girl knows this is a doll and not a real woman. I mean, she's, as Mattel points out (which is actually kind of a cool "fuck-you, you idiots" statement if one wants to take it that way) 11 some inches tall and 7 OUNCES heavy. She's got an unrealistic face and she has more clothes than any human girl ever hoped. Yeah, she's pretty damned fictional, and anyone who doesn't know that is seriously disturbed.

And let's see, Mr. Clough quotes this bizarre warning from the pages of "Ebony" magazine...holy hell, THIS is the thinking that's at the root of the evil that is feminism and WHY it's so very very deranged.

Writing in her Sistertalk page in Ebony magazine, Laura B. Randolph says, “You may want to make sure you’re sitting down before you read this next part. Okay, now breathe deeply. In, out. For years, people have hypothesized that, if translated into human proportions, Barbie’s measurements would be 38-18-34. Mattel has never confirmed or denied these measurements . . .”

Ms. Randolph frets that, “If we aren’t careful, the outsize measurements of a little plastic doll can send all the wrong messages to a little living doll who is at an age when she is forming her notions of beauty.”

HYPOTHESIZED??? HY-fucking-POTHESIZED??? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, YOU CRETIN? What do you MEAN confirm or deny???? What the HELL is wrong with you? Did you even GO to math class? Do you have any IDEA what scaling something up is about, or proportions? Considering that feminism relies heavily on doctored numbers, statistics (which actually ARE somewhat liquid, as opposed to proportions, which are NOT) and all kinds of suspect math, I propose that we scrap the whole damn THING now that we can prove beyond a shadow of a DOUBT that they're full of SHIT.

Let me break it down for you, Ms. Randolph. Get a Barbie doll. Take the measurements. Scale them up for a woman of whatever height you prefer. Check the numbers. Get ice-pack for burning cheeks of embarrassment. While applying, ponder your written apology. Oh, wait. You don't even understand the CONCEPT of the basic mathematics involved. Ok, Ms. Randolph. Begin with grade 1 (go back further if necessary.) Take a math class in grade 1 mathematics. Continue through the grades until you get to proportions and scales. Then follow above steps again. We breathlessly await your humiliation. Except it's already been achieved by your ludicrous notion that these numbers are "hypothetical" or that Mattel needs to "confirm or deny" what anyone can figure out (or see, if they actually look at the doll) LMAO. Idiots. Feminist idiots. Racially motivated idiots. Socioeconomically motivated idiots. Assuming parents are idiots. Idiot college boy who is now "deeply ashamed" since he's seen the grossly distorted chicken-wire sculpture Ms. College Crosseyes built. (Just WHAT he has to be ashamed of, Mister Sensitive Long-hair, he didn't tell us. Perhaps his Freida Fuck-dolly is more realistic than the insane model this chick built. But she doesn't mind; she's made of plastic. He'll spend the rest of his life in self-flagellation and writing feminist poetry as the math department snickers in their lattes.)

Yet another Barbie statue, dubbed Get Real Barbie, was also created a few years ago – this time by a then 14-year-old teen who was inspired by a proportion lesson in her geometry class.

Another one with insane proportions. You know what would have happened if I'd come up with such a demonstrably FALSE set of numbers in my 8th grade Geometry class? My teacher would have marked my paper with a big red X and perhaps been nice enough to say, "It's an interesting idea but your figures are completely wrong. Please redo the math." She/he MIGHT have even sat down with me and shown me exactly how and why the numbers were incorrect...after all, it's NOT ROCKET SCIENCE. But I feel like a victim of Brain Salad Surgery anyway, after this. God, I hate feminism.

And I leave you with your moment of Zen; here's a real (and amazingly hot) woman who is actually closer to the proportions crazy wonk-eye girl's model sports than to the Barbie doll does (this woman's chest is much bigger and her head of normal size) -