In my religion, that is. While others celebrate with great joy I am ready for some heated self-criticism. Because of one comment in my comments, one among all the nice and praising ones, this one:
Funny. Kathra Pollit said that you were a good writer but once again, I am treated to typical angry defensive whining that confirms anti-feminist stereotypes rather than subverts them. Brittle sarcasms ahoy.
How do feminists manage to sound so much exactly like each other?
I would personally like to thank you for all the liberating tedium you've brought to the Democratic Party.
Of course this is really a compliment in disguise as the commenter mentions how Katha Pollitt likes my writing (yeah!). But then he or she (most likely he) complains that I'm whining and defensive and brittle. And that I sound just like all other feminists. And that I'm tedious.
Now, I happen to know the answer to the question why all feminists sound exactly the same. It's because we are all made from the same gingerbread dough in a secret feminazi lair somewhere in Limbaugh country, and the exact same mould is used every time, the one with a woman shaking her fist in the air. That explains the brittleness of my sarcasm, too, at least for anyone who has ever bitten into a gingerbread cookie. They are brittle and crunchy.
The tedium in the commenter's mind may come from the fact that I rarely write about sex, rarely mention my divine ability to have multiple orgasms while brushing my teeth, rarely include pictures of sweaty sex. Or perhaps it's because of all the long words I use? Like "gingerbread" and "democracy"? I will try to do better in the future, of course, I always do.
Whiny and defensive, that's me. Yes. When someone attacks me or my beliefs I defend, and I whine as much as I can. It's fun and it turns some people off which makes it even more fun. Of course I also attack a lot and boom and swear some, too, but this doesn't seem to attract the same anti-feminist attention. They are all too busy whining about their victim-status to notice, I guess.
This turned out all wrong. I was supposed to do deep self-examinations and to find many things in me to work on, to improve upon, and I was supposed to end up all penitent. Instead, I whined and defended some more. I'm clearly beyond any hope of improvement whatsoever.
That's probably because I'm a goddess and goddesses and gods are not very good at self-flagellation. We tend to find the idea quite funny, and then we just go on exactly as we were before. Like perfect.