Supersexism

It’s gotten to the point where I can’t even go outside anymore. Everywhere I go, I can feel their cold prejudice looming over me, like a raincloud dampening my spirit. I bow my head and look at my feet as I walk down the city street, with thousands of burning, glaring feminist eyes boring into my back, all seeming to hiss, “QUIT OBJECTIFYING ME!”

Supersexism, the most crippling form of bigotry today, is the preconceived notion all women possess that all men are sexist. No matter what I do, no matter how courteous and respectful I am, no matter how many times I compliment their makeup, I cannot for one second escape the label with which women have branded me: the label of a sexist.

Despite workplace anti-sexism laws, female employers deny me jobs time and time again simply based on the fear that I possess a higher mental and physical capacity than they do and that I will earn one dollar for every 75 cents they make. Supersexism, therefore, has cost me jobs and distorted my life.

Thanks to ridiculous sexual harassment regulations, I’m afraid to make eye contact with girls at school for fear of being exiled to Antarctica for sexual harassment (figure 1). This is unfair. If women don’t want to be eyeballed they should dress in uglier clothes, or perhaps put on a little weight. All women are always watching to see if a man’s eyes ever, for even a microsecond, pass over their breasts. When most women talk to me nowadays, I simply close my eyes to show that I am taking extra steps to avoid ogling them. That’s why most men hate push-up bras.



Figure 1: There are no anti-sexism laws in Antarctica, largely due to the fact that there are no women in Antarctica.

Push-up bras are the most evil invention ever (figure 2). If you don’t know, they’re a type of underwear designed to lift a woman’s breasts and cause them to protrude even further than they normally do. This creates a weight imbalance in thinner women, and often causes them to stumble forward slightly when walking in high heels. A man who has closed his eyes to avoid accidental eye-rape, hearing the staggering girl coming, will often make the mistake of extending his arms to catch the falling female lest she fall and hurt herself; yet it’s so hard for most women to see how these circumstances could accidentally lead to a man catching two giant handfuls of cleavage, especially in the more breastically endowed females, whose naughty parts cover a wider surface area (the entire front of the torso).

Men, here’s some serious advice if you want to avoid this kind of inadvertent groping: let the bitch drop.

Figure 2: Just look at the evil. Disgusting!

These days, I can’t state my opinion in public anymore (except on blogs where women can’t slap me), for fear of accidentally “objectifying” nearby women. In recent weeks I have been apprehended for “offensive sexist remarks” so many times that I have simply resolved not to talk anymore in the presence of the opposite gender. Here’s an example of how a common remark could be labeled as sexist:

“Anne, make me a sandwich.”

Most women would first look at that sentence and feel that Anne is being domesticated and objectified. They would feel as though the speaker views Anne as a kitchen tool more than a person, yet notice the sentence’s structure: Anne is clearly the subject of the sentence, not the object. "Me," the guy, is actually one of the objects, despite what any feminist would tell you. (The other object is "sandwich." I will talk about sandwich objectification in future blog posts.) If the lesser gender would simply realize that a humble request for a sandwich is nothing more than a compliment about a girl’s culinary skills, the world would be a happier place for men.

Luckily, supersexism rehabilitation is simple: just embrace your inner ancient Greek and turn to homosexuality when your woman pisses you off. For men with too much dignity for that, it might help to become a sadomasochist, because there are many, many facial slappings along the path you have chosen.

Men, hold your heads high through this storm. Though women everywhere will persecute you solely for your sex for the rest of your life, help is on the way. In my next column, I will show you how to make yourself deaf to higher pitched noises (like a whiny woman’s voice) by blasting hardcore rock music in your ears until they bleed.

By the way, women or sensitive men who disagree with anything in this article are supersexists.