I never cease to be amazed by how crass feminists are.
They don’t talk of “equal pay” or “equal rights,” without — to paraphrase the words of Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life — leaping straight for the genitalia like a bull at a gate.
I learned this when I believed momentarily I was a feminist, before my women’s studies classes at New York University showed me the true essence of the movement.
I was reminded of it when I saw this “gift buying guide for feminists” in Ms. Magazine.
Check out the above gift for the feminist in YOUR life. A cross-stitched vulva.
Really, when you think about it, nothing sums up feminism better than this gift.