I came of age in the time of Donahue, a very influential talk jock that specialized in inviting guests who despised males and had ax’s galore to grind. My parents didn’t seem to mind my reading Ruebans, “Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex But Were Afraid to Ask” at the tender age of 11 or twelve. Matters of intimacy were never directly made a point of, but they were not looked upon with horror when they cropped up. With this in mind I saw the constant drubbing my gender received by Mr. Donahue, (or Alan Alda for that matter.) as totally false. At the time I saw pandering to the grudges of man-hating women as a pansies buy-in to hangin’ with and getting strokes from females. It has been a struggle with such beauties as Andrea Dworkin out there trying to convince everyone that every act of sex between males and females was a form of rape. To be sure there are sins against the feminine gender, but men are not as horrible as described by the Code Pink types.
I am interested by Camille Paglia though. She has popped every now and then for the past 25 years. She sees the damage done by the neopuritanical feminism and the fact that we have several generations who have been coddled through lives where there is no threat to their world, no famine, no great war to educate them to the true value of things. So they become shallow and fragile, wincing at every ill wind or rough word that wafts by. Be advised, Camille is a bit manic and hard to follow.