I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking “oh good lord, here comes a post about the idiot in Michigan …”
But this post is not that post. You can write that post in your head: just say “vaginavaginavaginavaginavagina” and then make a donation to Planned Parenthood or your friendly local women’s health clinic (although of course “local,” at this point, might mean anywhere in a three hundred mile radius) or to the Michigan legislator who thought it would be all right to talk like an adult in the company of other adults. Silly woman. She should have just talked about “her lady bits” and then everything would be fine.
No. I’m not writing that post. But I am thinking a lot about vaginas. Which is actually unusual for me, because although I own a vagina, I don’t really think about it that much.
I’m thinking about all the ways in which vaginas have been in the news lately – and that the impetuses (impetusii?) of these news stories are seldom, themselves, the owners of a hoochie.
The battle over Planned Parenthood funding? Started by non-vagina owning persons.
What is it about “down there” that causes vagina-less folk to want to police it, regulate it, tell it how to behave (and how not to)?
Is it that you can’t really see a vagina? Is it that most of it is all, you know, mysterious and tucked in, and thus needs constant vigilance lest it – what – run away? Have vagina owners, unbeknownst to me, been clamoring for help at the local sheriff’s office: “help! help! my vagina ran away and I can’t find it anywhere! she’s off somewhere, gambling away the rent money!”
I mean, is that what we’re dealing with? Vagina-less people are so concerned about what an untrammeled vagina might do that they want to put up a veritable thicket of laws and policies to prevent vaginas from vagina-ing all about the town? Is the idea to create a sort of legislative chastity belt for vaginas?
What’s the worst thing that could happen, do you think, if vaginas were left alone, to sort of vagina around in their natural habitat? Would they breed wildly, out of control, like what happened when people stopped shooting deer in New Jersey and now you can’t even grow a goddamn tomato in the backyard without all the deer for forty miles doing the tomato happy dance and bam there go your hopes for a nice little red sauce?
Is that it? Are the vagina-less attempting to erect these pieces of vagina-repellent legislation to keep herds of vaginas away from the tomato gardens of privilege and power?
What would happen if all the vaginas got together? Would they have a vaginabellion? Are we talking hoochie biker gangs rampaging through the halls of power, terrorizing the non-vagina’ed?
Think about it. Have we ever seen what a vagina can do when she puts her mind to it? I’m thinking that after about Elizabeth I, the answer is pretty much…no. And of course Liz I kept her vagina firmly on the throne by claiming that her hoochie was virgin territory, which is not a game that the hoochies I know are willing to play.
Word on the street these days is that vaginas are getting really irritated by all this scratchy legislative underwear. And an aggravated hoochie makes Liz I look like June Cleaver.
If I were vagina-less, I’d be spending less time thinking about how to legislate that which I don’t have and start paying attention to what I do have, so that when the vaginalution comes, I don’t lose it all.
i’m linking up with all the people at yeah write – some vagina’d, some not – and you should probably go over there and visit. you never can tell what will happen on the grid: you’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll maybe even get to look at some cartoons. click over to the challenge grid, and then the hangout grid, and then come back to the challenge grid and vote for your five faves.