With it being an increasingly dangerous climate to speak out in any way against “women,” especially as a “man”–lest they enact The SCUM Manifesto on all your asses–the more cunning “female” might take this atmosphere as an opportunity to enlist a tactic that’s been employed since the Book of Genesis. Opting to adopt the role of immolating innocente while secretly getting off on it. While sure, these “female” figures have all been written by “men” (that overly melodramatic Ophelia a prime example of such a “male” perspective on how “women” act), there is, upon occasion, just a hair of truth to the cliche of the self-victimizer.
Let us take, for example, Marilyn Monroe. Yeah, she got slapped around a lot in life. Starting from that early memory of her grandmother trying to smother her with a pillow. It would become a larger metaphor for the stifling of her pursuits as an actress by her three various husbands. But Monroe, in many instances, did it to herself. Of course, we can only imagine that the goings-on behind the scenes of Hollywood at this time would actually make Harvey Weinstein appear angelic. Still, did Monroe really need to dose herself so heavily in order to cope with demons real and hallucinated? Surrender herself to the chauvinist charms of Joe DiMaggio and Arthur Miller? She was the biggest star in the world. Maybe still is. And yet, her greatest weakness was the conviction that she needed a “man.” “Different times” or not, this phenomenon of a “woman’s” self-victimization so often stems from the false and perhaps inherently ingrained belief that a “man” is needed to complete the sum total of her worth. Without being able to attract and sustain one, what good is all the money, all the power, all the glory, all the fame?
Without dick that chooses to remain constant, the self-victimizing “woman” will always find a loophole toward martyrdom. I love dick, I hate dick, I love dick–my sister, my mother, my sister! That sort of thing.
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