Lisa Brown is a state representative in Michigan. She has been barred from speaking on the floor of the state House because she blathered on about her vagina, a situation she is quite peeved about [5]. She claims her vagina shouting was in the context of legislation regarding women’s health care, so that makes it all right.
It is NOT all right. I’m sure there is a time and a place to shout “Vagina! Vagina! Vagina!” The august halls of a legislative body really isn’t it, though.
When I was growing up, I attended a class called White Gloves And Party Manners. The course, spanning three months of Saturdays at Flah’s department store, taught a girl everything she needed to know about being socially graceful. I know which utensils to use and when, how to sit and even how to curtsy, how to be a good guest, how to address royalty and heads of state if I happen to be introduced to them, and yes, how to keep my white gloves nice.
Nowhere in all of that instruction did they ever mention that it was a good idea for me to publicly discuss my vagina should I be elected to political office.
I tried to picture my congressman, Trent Franks, marching around the floor of the House of Representatives hollering “Penis! Penis! Penis!” I just couldn’t do it. Mr. Franks is a firm believer in the Constitution, and the First Amendment. He also realizes that talking about his genitals while performing his duties as an elected representative is at best inappropriate, and at worst quite gauche.
The only Penis Shouter I ever knew was Ronald DeLucia. In elementary school, he would mold a very close approximation of male gonads out of Play-Doh. Then he would jump up on his desk and gleefully exclaim, “Look at the pee pee! Look at the pee pee!” Ronald had an excuse. He was mentally retarded, part of the early wave of “mainstreaming.”
Lisa Brown has no such excuse, unless she has some form of Tourette’s Syndrome where she yells “Vagina!” instead of “Motherf***er!” She is a Vagina Shouter for the shock value, and nothing more. You know that when Eve Ensler, Miss Vagina Monologues herself, shows up, every “modern” woman in a hundred mile radius is going to be all vagina this and vagina that.
What will the next “female empowerment” attention-grabber word be? Clitoris? Labia? Cervix? I can see it now. “Man, that dude was so monstrous, he went all hematoma on my cervix! Hope my ‘free’ health care sets my cervix right.”
No. Please, just… No. Talk all you want about your private parts amongst your friends. But in a more formal setting, such as promulgating law, leave your privates private. Should Lisa Brown be barred from speaking on the floor of the Michigan state House? No, I suppose not. Should she stop being a Vagina Shouter while executing her duties as an elected official? Can I get a “HELL yeah!”?
Yes, I have one of those vagina things. I don’t really feel the need to thrust my pelvis into every situation, though. Cracking a veejayjay joke amongst friends with whom you’ve shared a few refreshing adult beverages is one thing. Trying to inflict your obsession with your womanly parts on your constituents and your fellow legislators is a beaver of a different color.
