December 7, 2023

The director of Disney’s latest flop, The Marvels, Nia DaCosta, is blaming hateful sexist, misogynists for the massive box office failure.  

‘); googletag.cmd.push(function () { googletag.display(‘div-gpt-ad-1609268089992-0’); }); document.write(”); googletag.cmd.push(function() { googletag.pubads().addEventListener(‘slotRenderEnded’, function(event) { if (event.slot.getSlotElementId() == “div-hre-Americanthinker—New-3028”) { googletag.display(“div-hre-Americanthinker—New-3028”); } }); }); }

What is probably really upsetting Ms. DaCosta is that more men than women bought tickets to the film. Women, like me, are not at all interested in paying for a film starring macho women.

No thanks, Disney. Real women like strong men, even fake ones portraying superheroes.

The more I read about the antics of the hysterical karens or view the sickening videos of moronic exhibitionists on TikTok, the more convinced that I am a female chauvinist.  I recall the heady days of the ‘60s when I was young and naïve but never stupid enough to fall for the crap that the feminist icons were spewing. Burn my bra? Like that wasn’t going to happen.

‘); googletag.cmd.push(function () { googletag.display(‘div-gpt-ad-1609270365559-0’); }); document.write(”); googletag.cmd.push(function() { googletag.pubads().addEventListener(‘slotRenderEnded’, function(event) { if (event.slot.getSlotElementId() == “div-hre-Americanthinker—New-3035”) { googletag.display(“div-hre-Americanthinker—New-3035”); } }); }); }

The hypocrisy of those chanting harpies was glaring and I’ve always wondered why those screaming at the women’s rights marches couldn’t figure it out. We were supposed to get bent out of shape if a man called us ‘broads’ but it was perfectly okay to call men ‘hunks’ and other terms of endearment. I could certainly understand getting equal pay for equal work but too much of the movement smacked of pettiness. I was convinced that the women’s movement was more concerned with destroying the average male than furthering women’s rights. Many, many years later I learned that I was right.

I once enjoyed a lively dinner with the wonderful Lucianne Goldberg, with our other dinner companion Phyllis Chesler, a second-wave feminist icon. I had written a column on Chesler after learning she had been blackballed by NOW, the National Organization of Women, for supporting George Bush. The conversation soon turned to the movement and feminism.

Lucianne had us in hysterics as she recalled a debate she had at a college function years ago about this issue when later that night, a drunken Betty Friedan came knocking on her motel door to rant about how she couldn’t stand so many of the “lesbos” she had to deal with.

I met Lucianne Goldberg during the Bill Clinton/Monica Lewinsky affair when she responded to a column that I had written defending Linda Tripp. We exchanged many delightful email messages before we actually met in person when I started writing for the New York Sun. We were political comrades always in sync and I loved when she would say, “My loathing for the Clintons requires medication.”

Had I known more about her when I was a young woman, I would gladly have joined her “Pussycat league.” She and Jeannie Sakol founded this activist group “not to be angry feminists, but  to revive femininity and support women’s rights with the classic tools: “charm, chic and the clinging gown.” Their motto was “The lamb chop is mightier than the karate chop.”

Lucianne was one of my dearest friends until her passing last October because she and I were women who loved men and felt that the women’s movement alienated women. While many regard her only as the woman who exposed the Clinton affair, her biggest legacy was in introducing a website that gave us an option against the mainstream media that had become the leftist forum of disinformation. Lucianne.com allows the posting of conservative pages that debunk what the lying media is promoting allowing the truth to prevail.