For anyone who cares, below is my response to the article in my school newspaper I posted about here. I haven't sent it off yet, so let me know what ya think. Has my vitriol been well-spewed?
Dear Jimmy Condit,
What a sharp and witty young man you are! You’re even more clever than your colleague Ryan Litwin, who so skillfully reveals just how darn hilarious domestic violence and misogyny could be if we’d only give it a chance. From the bottom of my heart, I want to thank you personally for bringing the important issue of Impending Gender Revolution into the public eye through this venerable school publication. It’s SO vital to get the message out about what women want in a man. I’m a girl and I’m SO grateful. Ohmigod, I talk about this with girls I date all the time. Yeah, I invite them to my house and we try on dresses and criticize each other’s bodies, and then we talk about boys, boys, boys. Somewhat inexplicably, this leads to a pillow fight and then we have sex, after which we lay in each others arms longing for a big, hairy, manly-scented, appropriately-dressed guy to appear so that we could really be satisfied. Well, you know how it is, you watch late-night Cinemax. With regard to properly-gendered clothing, you write, “This is what society has been for hundreds of years, and what it should continue to be.” Right on! As I always say, if you come out of the womb with hairless legs, high heels and pink lipstick, who are you to say it wasn’t meant to be? And in the same vein: if you were born with a penis, you just can’t divorce yourself from your God-given sporting and hammer-weilding abilities. I mean, you really shouldn’t even try. Sigh... It seems these days I must resign myself to smacking my head into closed doors. I just refuse to accept that some rugged young fellow isn’t going to step up and sweep it open for me at the last moment. But when I start feeling down, I think back on the unchanging sweep of human history. I look to Elizabethan and Victorian times, when “real” men were free from frills, wigs and effeminate mannerisms. I read about Joan of Arc and chuckle to myself (I love fairytales). Anyway, just as you say, it’s so hard to find clothes nowadays in this modern retail wasteland! I’m so glad to find that I’m not the only person in the world whose identity is fundamentally threatened by what other people wear. If you think it’s hard as a man, try being a girl attempting to dress like a man. Why can’t we go back to the good old days when everything was accurately dichotomized and it was perfectly clear which gender expression I was appropriating? Sometimes I get so confused I have to check in my pants to make sure I’m still an angry dyke. ...Phew, all equipment still present and accounted for.