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How do I know I’ve finally arrived as a conservative commentator? Because Ms. Magazine thinks so.

In its February/March 2001 issue, Ms. names me enemy No. 1. Complete with the least flattering photo, Ms. declares that I’m the woman to “Watch Out For.” And they don’t mean it in a positive way.

When the magazine contacted me in November, I knew they were lying when they said they wanted to do a positive piece. But I sat for the photo, anyway, relishing making them spend money on a swanky photographer. And relishing the badge of honor that their attack on me was — I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Not that I’m hurt or anything, but why doesn’t Ms. like me? Well, Ms.
claims that I’m a clone of Dr. Laura Schlessinger, her “Mini Me.”

“Schlussel is anti-everything progressive.” Translation: I’m not a
feminist wacko. While I’m nothing like Dr. Laura, I actually like men,
and believe in traditional values. They just can’t handle the truths I write,
like that the WNBA is a “silly, feminist girlie sports sideshow” which
no one watches. What makes things worse, according to Ms., is that I
have “blond hair” and make “the rounds on television.”

And Ms. and its scant followers just can’t handle that there are a
growing number of effective young conservative spokeswomen out there
that are beating them at their own game — a game Ms. and its strange
assortment of feminists, lesbians and men-haters have now been losing
for years. Ms.’s absolute isolation from mainstream America is well
illustrated by its lack of any ad pages, the mother’s milk of the
magazine business (probably because no one’s reading it). That is,
unless you count one page of classified ads for such things as “Bitch
Magazine,” “feminist ecovillages” and one that asks, “Ever dream of
owning a woman’s sex toy store?” No.

Clearly, Ms. is out of touch with the modern world. I know, because as
a young, Gen-X, professional, single woman, I’m their target audience.

And I’m not listening.

That’s why Ms. is now published bi-monthly, and
why it even ceased publication a few years ago. Not long for this
world, it’s struggling to survive. I doubt there are many women who’d
relate to articles on lesbian fairy tales for kids (“The Feminists
Grimm”), or features like, “A Lesbian in Paris Whose Erotic Portraits of
Women Unveiled a Hidden World,” or “Multi-Tasking by Egyptian Women.”
Who cares? Not me.

And that’s par for the course of the feminist movement. It’s dead. It
and the women at Ms. (I think they’re women) are obsessed with race,
lesbianism, and Title IX — the ridiculous law that’s making it harder
and harder for college men to compete in sports, and easier for women to
get easy academic rides on water polo scholarships. Not kidding. These
are the constant themes in the out-of-touch feminist movement. And the
out-of-touch magazine issue that harangues me.

Plus columns by Ms. founder, Gloria Steinem, and former crybaby
Congresswoman Pat Schroeder. Remember Schroeder? She once publicly
whined to a congressional committee chairman that, “You just don’t want
to hear from us women because we have vaginas.”

“Lady,” he replied, “If you used that as much as you use your mouth, you’d get a lot more bills passed.”

Then, there’s Steinem. Even she abandoned the Ms.
philosophy. She used to deride marriage, saying women needed it, “like
a fish needs a bicycle.” But now, at age 66, too late to have children,
she married this past summer, and has declared it “perfect and
natural.” But, in her column, she’s bummed out that half of white women
voted for Bush, and he got elected. Too bad, babe.

Ms. must stand for “miserable.” Why? Because they can’t stand that
they’ve been left behind. They can’t stand that, today (and always),
men don’t want the women pictured in Ms. — ugly, butch types who don’t
want them to open the door for them. And most women don’t want to be
them. They’re upset that men don’t want to watch women’s sports, like
the WNBA (a Ms. favorite). And neither do women. Ms. can’t abide the
fact that, today, the woman who gets the good life — the guy and the
great career — is the one with determination, looks and mainstream
values. It’s not the “victim,” who reads Ms., and blames men for all
her problems, instead of going to the gym and wearing make-up.

How out of touch is Ms.? Let’s face it, Ingrid Rivera-Dessuit, pictured
in the magazine centerfold, in men’s underwear, complete with wads of
underarm hair, isn’t going to make it too far in this world. “I’m not
man-hating, but I am a dyke,” she brags, in an article, “Call Me
Woman.” I’d call her many things, but woman isn’t among them. Ditto
for the sex-changed scientist they wrote about. How tasteful.

And if Ms. is so pro-women, why are they attacking me? Must all women
have a monolithic political point of view, like theirs? Apparently, Ms.
thinks so, which is why even when I didn’t say what they claim in their
article on me, they put it in anyway. And of course they took it out of
context. It seems they’re a little obsessed. They read my columns,
watched me on ABC’s “Politically Incorrect,” and followed my political
career.

Too bad for their unrequited obsession, I’m a staunch heterosexual.

Sadly, Ms. didn’t put the article dissing me on its website. Traffic on
its dead Internet domain would pick up geometrically. The same issue
that attacks me also savages a woman, April Masini, for working on
“Baywatch Hawaii” and bitches about studies that show thin women have
a higher net worth.

I can see I’m in great company. Being attacked by Ms. is the huge badge
of honor.

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