This whole Sarah Palin thing is pretty fascinating, from a sociological and psychological perspective. (Terrifying from a political and pragmatic perspective, but I'll set that aside for now)
I've known many conservatives... die hard, Limbaugh, praise Jesus or go to hell, gays are the spawn of Satan conservatives... Every single one of them--even the female ones--have traditionally insisted that women should not govern our country. Heck, most of them wouldn't even hire a woman to manage an office department.
These are the same folks who spent hours criticizing Hillary Clinton and using any number of sexist and colorful commentary on her female shortcomings. It was clear that not only didn't they agree with her politically/philosophically but they also couldn't stomach the idea of a woman holding the highest office in the land. Before Sarah Palin's introduction to their psyche, I could have asked any one of them, "Do you think a woman could be a good president?" and I absolutely know not a one of them would have said "Yes, sure." They would have said, "No way. Women are too emotional. Women aren't as smart. Women have PMS so, man, having them near the red button??? Yikes. Women are hens. Women are irrational... Etc."
They thought they knew themselves well. They were proud of their confidence in their beliefs that, of course, only men should be president.
Then John McCain had to throw them for a fruit loop and introduce Sarah Palin to their brains. Now, these conservatives--especially the male die-hards--are in love. I read a few message boards for some of my family's outdoor interests and many of the contributors are conservatives. They rhapsodize about how "hot" she is, post pictures of her leaning seductively on machinery, talk about how she's so smart and spunky... She is nectar to their mid-life crisis'.
It matters not to them that she becomes largely incoherent when interviewed. That's just the press bulling her, after all... that mean old Katie Couric. How dare she ask those tough questions like, "What do you read?" Our little Alaska flower shouldn't be picked on like that. Besides, she's hot. I'm not sure I could have ever imagined conservative men using "she's hot" as a reason to vote for a potential president. It boggles my mind.
Who says you can't use sex to sell? Palin is the Republican pin-up-girl and the fellas are swooning hook, line and sinker.
Why is this happening to our conservative men? The answer is cognitive dissonance. (From Wikipedia: In psychology, cognitive dissonance is an uncomfortable feeling or stress caused by holding two contradictory ideas simultaneously. The theory of cognitive dissonance proposes that people have a fundamental cognitive drive to reduce this dissonance by modifying an existing belief, or rejecting one of the contradictory ideas.).
Essentially, conservatives who always staunchly believed a woman should not be president now have a forced choice. They must vote for the McCain/Palin conservative ticket (of course, the Obama/Biden ticket is just not an option for a slew of reasons). However, because Palin is female and thus contradicts their well-established notions of who should/should not be president... this naturally creates some serious internal contradictions. They somehow have to find a way to relieve the psychological discomfort.
So you have men who would have cut off their left testicle before they'd see a bird-brained woman be president--now, having to talk themselves into how Palin possibly is a good choice. They are miraculously able to overlook her sketchy education, her folksy sayings, her gibberish answers, her inability to debate (if one considers a debate actually, oh, I don't know, answering questions and taking a side in an argument as opposed to Palin's "debating" which appears to be saying whatever you'd planed or been coached to say no matter what the question was), her working-woman ambition, her pregnant-teen daughter, her tag-along first dude, etc. They are having to justify and overlook things that would have driven them nutty a year ago.
Can you imagine what these conservative men would be saying if Palin were a Democratic VP candidate???? Let's say she's exactly the same woman except she's a Democrat. Heck, she can even have the same ideology...I don't care. But if she was the Democrat VP choice, the conservatives would be making mincemeat out of her. They'd be appalled. If she was a Democrat, they wouldn't have to twist their minds around her deficits...they'd just get to tear her to shreds.
But she's not. So they love her and think she is hot. Good for them.
I do wonder, though, how Palin might affect the evolution of gender politics in our country. We now have legions of men who used to abhor the idea of a woman leader prattling on and on about how great Palin is...how she'd be a fine president... how women can work and be a good mom... Palin's existence is shattering just about every sexist idea these men have ever depended on. Palin and cognitive dissonance are transforming these men into feminists... I wonder how long it'll take for them to figure that out?
Showing posts with label women. Show all posts
Showing posts with label women. Show all posts
Sunday, October 05, 2008
Friday, August 11, 2006
On Lightheartedness and Tupperware...
I've been a blog grouch lately and feel it's time for some lighter fare.
On Tupperware…
There exists an unfortunate misconception that women actually enjoy Tupperware parties; or any “product-parties” for that matter. A woman can attend a “party” for anything: lingerie, candles, baby toys, small tropical lizards—it doesn’t matter—someone, somewhere, is giving a “party” for it and women are blindly ordering a half-dozen mauve geckos with a matching service tray.
Though these almost ritualistic gatherings carry the “party” moniker, they are frankly little more fun than experimenting with that home liposuction system you ordered from Candi of the shop-at-home network after staying up way too late eating Ben & Jerry’s Chubby Hubby ice cream. Chubby Hubby, Chubby Hubby, Chubby Hubby…that’s just really fun to say… Chubby Hubby.
Theoretically, someone—a man—decided the word “party” would convince people—women—to crowd onto someone’s lumpy sectional, drink generic coffee, purchase overpriced plastic gizmos (all major credit cards accepted) and have “fun.” Though it worked for the first Tupperware fete; those pioneering women quickly realized, from the ditzy Tupperware Lady’s first ice-breaker torture activity, that they were in for hours of unadulterated hell.
Given that these gatherings are unpleasant, one might wonder why this method of marketing prevails. The primary reason is free stuff. When you attend these “parties” you are told that, if you then host a “party,” you’ll receive free stuff when your guests order products. This is how the product “party” survives. Other women, who want free stuff, sign up to be a future hostess in the hopes she’ll score piles of free stuff; or at least obtain the miniature sandwich saver keychain, offered by the desperate Tupperware Lady, to anyone who’ll agree to have a party--whether she has a home or not.
Now the gullible new hostess inherits the problem of coercing women (who have just incidentally attended the previous party) to attend her “party.” Several major research institutions have studied the process by which women are enticed to attend these events, but they could never pin it down; likely because men conducted the research and there’s no way a man could possibly understand this phenomenon.
Allow me to explain. Predictably, the first invitees are a hostess’s close friends and relatives because they are compelled to attend by an ancient sacred Code. Prehistoric women developed The Code long ago when a Rocks-That-Happen-To-Be-Shaped-Like-Bowls “Party” ended in a riot because the hostess’s sister no-showed (with some pathetic excuse like having her arm torn off by a saber-toothed tiger, or something). Somewhere near Duluth, one can visit the historical landmark where blood and coffee stains forever grace the cave walls.
The new hostess also invites some lesser-friends. While these women do not fall under The Code, they will likely attend to “be nice,” get away from the kids, and pick up that Effortless Egg-Cracker, introduced last month. Ms. Hostess knows the lesser-friends will invite their own close friends, or relatives—relying on The Code—to go to the shindig with them so they don’t have to be at a “party” where they “don’t know anyone.” Now, 10 to 100 women have agreed to gather in someone’s living room for an event from which everyone will leave with a headache the approximate size of Guatemala.
To be fair, I must note that one positive thing did transpire from my attendance at a “party.” I won a serrated grapefruit spoon in a drawing and it is excellent for eating kiwi fruits. Thus goes the first basic law of Tupperware: You never use the items for what they were originally intended. Like, if it is a Deviled Egg Caddy, you’ll use it to knead bread.
The second law is: Food will taste better if it is removed from its original container and stored in expensive plastic gizmos that’ll give your cupboard or fridge and “elegant yet functional sense of style.” For example, a Pickle-Keeper is offered in an attempt to keep you from making the grave mistake of leaving your sweet gherkins in the obsolete glass jar, whereby you may have to use a time-consuming fork to get them out.
The third basic law, and likely the most vital, is that Tupperware must be burped so that it doesn’t spit up before you put it down for a nap.
The sellers of Tupperware claim that it will restore order to your kitchen. In reality, everyone has one cupboard dedicated to the renegade polymer containers, where they are organized carefully via chaos theory. No one wants to venture into the recesses of the cabinet, so the most available unit is used for everything. A juice pitcher may serve as both an Egg Scrambler and a Chip-n-Dip tray. The other Tupperware is quite happy with this arrangement because it can hang out, play poker, and taunt the Rubbermaid.
On Tupperware…
There exists an unfortunate misconception that women actually enjoy Tupperware parties; or any “product-parties” for that matter. A woman can attend a “party” for anything: lingerie, candles, baby toys, small tropical lizards—it doesn’t matter—someone, somewhere, is giving a “party” for it and women are blindly ordering a half-dozen mauve geckos with a matching service tray.
Though these almost ritualistic gatherings carry the “party” moniker, they are frankly little more fun than experimenting with that home liposuction system you ordered from Candi of the shop-at-home network after staying up way too late eating Ben & Jerry’s Chubby Hubby ice cream. Chubby Hubby, Chubby Hubby, Chubby Hubby…that’s just really fun to say… Chubby Hubby.
Theoretically, someone—a man—decided the word “party” would convince people—women—to crowd onto someone’s lumpy sectional, drink generic coffee, purchase overpriced plastic gizmos (all major credit cards accepted) and have “fun.” Though it worked for the first Tupperware fete; those pioneering women quickly realized, from the ditzy Tupperware Lady’s first ice-breaker torture activity, that they were in for hours of unadulterated hell.
Given that these gatherings are unpleasant, one might wonder why this method of marketing prevails. The primary reason is free stuff. When you attend these “parties” you are told that, if you then host a “party,” you’ll receive free stuff when your guests order products. This is how the product “party” survives. Other women, who want free stuff, sign up to be a future hostess in the hopes she’ll score piles of free stuff; or at least obtain the miniature sandwich saver keychain, offered by the desperate Tupperware Lady, to anyone who’ll agree to have a party--whether she has a home or not.
Now the gullible new hostess inherits the problem of coercing women (who have just incidentally attended the previous party) to attend her “party.” Several major research institutions have studied the process by which women are enticed to attend these events, but they could never pin it down; likely because men conducted the research and there’s no way a man could possibly understand this phenomenon.
Allow me to explain. Predictably, the first invitees are a hostess’s close friends and relatives because they are compelled to attend by an ancient sacred Code. Prehistoric women developed The Code long ago when a Rocks-That-Happen-To-Be-Shaped-Like-Bowls “Party” ended in a riot because the hostess’s sister no-showed (with some pathetic excuse like having her arm torn off by a saber-toothed tiger, or something). Somewhere near Duluth, one can visit the historical landmark where blood and coffee stains forever grace the cave walls.
The new hostess also invites some lesser-friends. While these women do not fall under The Code, they will likely attend to “be nice,” get away from the kids, and pick up that Effortless Egg-Cracker, introduced last month. Ms. Hostess knows the lesser-friends will invite their own close friends, or relatives—relying on The Code—to go to the shindig with them so they don’t have to be at a “party” where they “don’t know anyone.” Now, 10 to 100 women have agreed to gather in someone’s living room for an event from which everyone will leave with a headache the approximate size of Guatemala.
To be fair, I must note that one positive thing did transpire from my attendance at a “party.” I won a serrated grapefruit spoon in a drawing and it is excellent for eating kiwi fruits. Thus goes the first basic law of Tupperware: You never use the items for what they were originally intended. Like, if it is a Deviled Egg Caddy, you’ll use it to knead bread.
The second law is: Food will taste better if it is removed from its original container and stored in expensive plastic gizmos that’ll give your cupboard or fridge and “elegant yet functional sense of style.” For example, a Pickle-Keeper is offered in an attempt to keep you from making the grave mistake of leaving your sweet gherkins in the obsolete glass jar, whereby you may have to use a time-consuming fork to get them out.
The third basic law, and likely the most vital, is that Tupperware must be burped so that it doesn’t spit up before you put it down for a nap.
The sellers of Tupperware claim that it will restore order to your kitchen. In reality, everyone has one cupboard dedicated to the renegade polymer containers, where they are organized carefully via chaos theory. No one wants to venture into the recesses of the cabinet, so the most available unit is used for everything. A juice pitcher may serve as both an Egg Scrambler and a Chip-n-Dip tray. The other Tupperware is quite happy with this arrangement because it can hang out, play poker, and taunt the Rubbermaid.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)