Posted on 10/30/2005 6:14:25 AM PST by shrinkermd
When I entered college in 1969, women were bursting out of theirs 50's chrysalis, shedding girdles, padded bras and conventions. The Jazz Age spirit flared in the Age of Aquarius. Women were once again imitating men and acting all independent: smoking, drinking, wanting to earn money and thinking they had the right to be sexual, this time protected by the pill. I didn't fit in with the brazen new world of hard-charging feminists. I was more of a fun-loving (if chaste) type who would decades later come to life in Sarah Jessica Parker's Carrie Bradshaw. I hated the grubby, unisex jeans and no-makeup look and drugs that zoned you out, and I couldn't understand the appeal of dances that didn't involve touching your partner. In the universe of Eros, I longed for style and wit. I loved the Art Deco glamour of 30's movies. I wanted to dance the Continental like Fred and Ginger in white hotel suites; drink martinis like Myrna Loy and William Powell; live the life of a screwball heroine like Katharine Hepburn, wearing a gold lamé gown cut on the bias, cavorting with Cary Grant, strolling along Fifth Avenue with my pet leopard.
(Excerpt) Read more at nytimes.com ...
Dowd is a fruitloop. This is in the NYT and therefore irrelevant.
I'm not sure I see any point here.
What exactly is her point?
Skip down to the last 2 paragraphs about the future, it's there
Anything she has ever said that made any sense was something that she had heard from a conservative 10 to 25 years ago when she rejected that same truth like any truth denying liberal.
She was miserable. She's still miserable. She wants you to be in the same boat.
Brief translation of this and the rest of her columns: "I'm frustrated in love, so I'm going to spend the rest of my life ranting and whining and bashing Republicans. Also, I slept with the boss, so they can't fire me."
I suppose we are free to disagree, but this Maureen is very good at observation, describing what is really happening and, then, placing a view on it you may not like at all. We call that a provocative thinker.
I was not surprised to see the pictures of Catherine Zeta Jones. Yes, she is younger and prettier. Yes, she is the masturbatory fantasy of many deprived, adolescent and not so adolescent males. But the issue is for Dowd and most very capable, intelligent and successful women is this the male measure of marriage material.
A long time ago, the late, great Alfred Adler said what brings men and women together is chemistry but what keeps them together is cooperation. I would submit most mature people in every age would agree with this assertion.
If Maureen is deficient in anything, it is in her inability to convince others she can and will cooperate the business of life. Alternatively, she is wasting her time with powerful men with big egos and little maturity who are interested in sexual conquest and variety. If the later is the case, she should (as can many others) look elsewhere.
Maureen has revealed a great deal about herself in a way that opens her to criticism. She has also revealed, in the past, her disappointments and problems of life. In this she shows considerable courage since it takes courage to make mistakes. And, even more courage to be open in discussing these mistakes with others.
Does she turn a good phrase? Absolutely. But can she think her way through a coherent political philosophy. Cute and clever is not a substitute for competent.
John / Billybob
Why does Dowd write this drivel?
A vanity about vanity? heh, heh.
"What's a Modern Girl to Do? "
Poor Maureen, it must be very difficult for her coming to grips with being a dried up spinster that no one loves, that will never have a child, a husband, or a sexlife. That she has chosen to waste her life in a career that consists of making snide comments about people who matter. She sees where it is going, she is alone and rapidly aging, with only her cats to keep her company. Pathetic.
Her blatant frenzied lying about Ken Starr demonstrated that she was certifiably an unrepentant lying propagandist.
I'm with Billybob.
As I read Dowd's piece I was struck by her unbounded narcissism and complete disconnect from any form of objective reality. Yet you see maturity and astute observation. It sure beats me.
I can see that you are infatuated, but I can't for the life of me see why. I guess that's what makes the world go round. Maybe it's a girl thing.
Or, she's too cheap to see a psychiatrist and has to work her problems out in her articles. Embarassing, really.
Many things she writes are better suited to be discussed with a counselor, not to be printed for the declining readership of the NYT.
Are you serious?
Yes, there's something sad about the immaturity of "modern love" today, and feminism hasn't helped. But frankly folks like Mo Dowd are a major part of the problem. Everything she works for politically is only helping to make the situation she complains about worse.
But more important, is moaning about the difficulty of establishing relationships a proper concern of serious Op Eds? Does the New York Times, supposedly our country's most serious and dignified newspaper, give her this bully pulpit to moan about her hormones and her love life, in between her more usual Bush-bashing activities?
One is tempted to say to her, "Quit your job, find something useful to do, and get a life."
I guess I can sum up my response by saying that feminism turned out to be a chimera because its thesis is a lie. Men and women, while they may be equal, are not the same. And it shouldn't take 5,000 words to express that.
You are aware ( looking at your sign on date ) of the reasons for posting CZJ pictures on a Maureen Dowd related thread?
AKA: Being bought off with a Michael Douglas date to get her to cease writing damaging articles about Bill Clinton, only to be dumped for ( yes ) a pretty young thing in vacuous Hollywood.
So, Douglas may have had more than one reason for dumping Dowd for Jones.
Even a broken clock is right twice a day.
There is much here that Her Dowdiness is right about.
One thing she leaves completely out of the equation, however, is true love.
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