purity ball

In general, I’m a Pollyanna teddybear who is a diehard believer in live-and-let-live. People do what people do – and – whatever, dude. Just don’t try to ram your brand of bs down my throat.

But sometimes, especially after about 14 hours of sleep in the last 24, something gets my inner goat. Or my inner Id. That is – the Dood bangs his boots down on the floor with a mighty crash and screams louder than even Angus Young could:

“You’ve got to be (insert expletive) KIDDING me!!!”

And here it is, in all its Technicolor glory, the source of my outrage:”>

Apparently, dads in Colorado Springs haul their prepubescent daughters, decked out in virginal white (that’s important) AND gray eyeshadow, off to a fancy ball at the swanky Broadmore Hotel and make a covenant – to protect their daughters’ “purity”, and have them sign a contract that they will remain virgins until their wedding nights.

To top it all off, they do this at an age where those girls have no idea what they’re signing off on. I’m not even sure some of them can spell “virginity.”, never mind explain the concept.

After their moment of virginal glory and adoration, these girls go back home, still confused and elated, and play with their Bratz.

“And remember, sweetheart”, you can almost hear one of these paragon Daddies say a few years down the line, “it’s YOUR job to say no! Men can’t help it! Really, they can’t! But if that gets too hard, you let DADDY know, and I’ll take care of it!”

Damn straight he will, by hauling his errant teenaged daughter off to the toolshed to teach her the true and proper meaning of “virginity”.

Please, somebody, pinch me, hard. I may have slept so much I feel like Rip Van Winkle after last night, but yesterday WAS still the 21st century, right?

I’m the mother of a teenaged daughter. I know, both from personal experience and the curse of a good memory, as well as that jailbait candy I brought into this world, just how hard and how hot those cherries can burn. Cats in heat have nothing on these young ladies, and in an age where sex is seen as The Ultimate Commodity, it’s only getting worse.

But having girls as young as 8 or 10 or 12 sign a non-legal contract stating they’ll save IT for their wedding night, to keep it SACRED, right, so that SEX gets put into its PROPER place – marriage, is beyond outrage. And you will always, but always live happily ever after and your marriage bed will always be a bower of wedded bliss. Personally approved by God, who, lest we forget, is the Biggest, Baddest Daddy of all.

How those poor girls are going to manage that on no experience, presumably being married off to other virgins without experience, is just one of those contradictions these fellas never bother explaining. Just as they never bother explaining business conventiions and national church association meetings that involve prostitutes of both sexes and all sexual persuasions and any manner of debauchery.

But then again, that’s OK – they’re men. They can’t help it. Really, they can’t. It’s all Eve’s fault, anyway. Eve and her countless descendant daughters, whose appealing features, babysoft skin and rampant sexuality turn men into the slavering, drooling dogs they are.

Amazing. In an age where women have made quite a few strides in several right directions, when we bleeding-heart liberal sluts of the world have managed to kid ourselves into thinking that we can explore our sexuality in any way we see fit, Xtian right-wingers hit their daughters over the head with a fact they have no basis for understanding. Their sexuality needs controlling. By their Dads, if they can’t manage it themselves, and how would they know at age 10?

A thought that makes this slut’s blood run ice-cold.

I’ve made a covenant with my own teenaged daughter. Not to save it for her wedding night in exchange for some utopian bliss that will likely never happen. But to realize that she’s going to have to deal with the most important fact of womanhood of all:

We’ve Got It. They Want It.

Therein lies the true source of women’s power, and that’s what you’re going to have to learn, darling. That means you should get yourself out there, once YOU can feel you can handle it, and be as slutty and as sexual as you want or need, but be responsible. Protect yourself against the nasties of sexual consequences. Have fun, because it IS – fun. And extend your middle finger to anyone – male or female – who dares to get in your way.

After all, that’s the very idea at the heart of this whole issue, isn’t it: the threat of the independant-minded, sexually liberated woman. All those Xtian men will be shot in the balls by their own hypocrisy.

Oh, the horror!

Better just to give their daughters their personal cross to bear.