The Compleat Orliad, In No Particular Order

Orly is our Joan of Arc--Maertin Pinsky

Normally, if you can even say normally in any sentence proximate to Orly Taitz's loyal follower Maertin Pinsky, you'd say he is a few cartridges short of a magazine. This, for example, is your average Maertin Pinsky:

The Military govenor will be a patriot and will in time return–after order is restored, government to civilian control where safeguards wil be built in NEVER to allow Boeskys, Millens, Rutkowskis. Madoffs etc, to rise and emerge as virtual dictators in their specialties. The punishment is execution for screwing over innocent hard working people expecting the best in treatment and trust.
Enough is enough–
ORDER BEFORE JUSTICE
A CALL TO ARMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!......

The cockroached are in the walls of governmnet at all levels of corruption and the RAID spray will reach them.

Yes, Maertin's cure for preventing virtual dictators is to install actual dictators. Just as soon as you-know-who is proven not to be the duly elected executive, but

that usurper bastard now in office–hopefully not for long.

Maertin's plans are heroic; in fact, they transcend the mortal realm:

.

Arrested as well are leaders of Goldman Sachs, Paulison Jr. Raines, Johnson, and suimmarilly executed: Sol Alinsky and BillAYERS.

But Maertin clapped the title of Saint Joan on Dentist/Lawyer (the latter legal in the overgenerous state of California only) Orly Taitz quite sensibly, as long as you remember that Orlymatter is always negatively charged.

Instead of trying to crown the rightful leader of the people, she's trying to unseat him. Instead of abjuring female accoutrements, she is so permeated with them that her veins must run with peroxide and her brain be coated in carnauba wax. Instead of penury, she has Paypal (or had; she also has Paranoia, so now she demands that her followers mail her money directly). And she's a mother of three, so we needn't inquire further on the Maiden front.

Still, she shares a few traits with the Maid of Orleans: grandiosity, implacability, and a bowl-shaped hairdo, though with Joan it was more of a cereal bowl and Orly's is more of a punch bowl.

She also serves for inspiration amongst the foot soldiers:

But, wait! What is that thunderous sound?
So very loud, it shakes the ground.

Could it be millions upon millions of Patriots’ feet?
That is marching, ever marching to Liberty’s drumbeat.
Now, the good men will no longer ignore.
The oath of allegiance that they did swore.
Our Constitution is the key to restore
To the erosion of Freedom WE say. “No more!”
---Kim American

Orly also has a Pretender to her throne, or Pyre: one Philip J. Berg, the 911 Truther, who some time ago got himself a law degree in person, and spent the last twenty years making his professors blush for having passed him.

Whereas these two once worked harmoniously together in the cause of trying to reverse the will of the people, it's not usual that two lyric sopranos occupy the same production, and the same goes for birth-certificate conspiracy theorist shysters. So Orly, having run afoul of Berg by spamming his assistant's social security number to her entire database of credulous nitwit supporters, found herself the subject of a lawsuit :

NOW COMES, Lisa Liberi, Philip J. Berg, Esquire, the Law Offices of Philip J. Berg, Evelyn Adams aka MommaA, Lisa M. Ostella and Go Excel Global, Plaintiffs by and through the undersigned counsel and brings this Complaint seeking injunctive relief and damages against the Defendants, Orly Taitz aka Dr. Orly Taitz aka Law Offices of Orly Taitz......

Orly is the one lawyer who could find Philip Berg 's suit beyond her skills to rebut. While not exactly equivalent to being captured by the English, that might take the ginger out of her for a while. But her powers of denial, evasion, and taste for posing as a martyr keep her humming along at her usual frenetic madwoman's pace.

On her site, she's asking for a Pennsylvania attorney, not to help her with Berg's suit, exactly, but:

I am looking for a name of a Pennsylvania attorney, licensed in Federal court in Philadelphia, who specializes in issues of parties defrauding non-profit organizations, SS and IRS fraud, defamation, cyber crimes, theft via the Internet.

An attorney of subtlety and artfulness, Orly must be faking left before jabbing right. Either that, or she's not just telegraphing her next punch, she's putting it up on the Jumbotron.

Not only do ammo-happy insurrectionists get to unite under Orly's fraying banner, but her site is useful as an aggregator for all kinds of off-road ludicrousness, where commenters fulminate against traffic circles, mouth-breathe about Fema camps, and sell snake-oil to each other, such as colloidal silver.



This last, colloidal silver, contains not only the usual dose of stupid, but is actually dangerous, and if ingested in any quantity can cause disfigurement, by turning the user a permanent, pronounced, deathly-looking gray. There is no known safe quantity; everyone's metabolism is different, so the only way to tell if you have a problem is when you have a problem, and then you have a giant problem.

It's tempting to let Orly's legions labor on in their belief that swine flu can be warded off with a few ampules of shiny quackery; once they turned themselves gray, they'd be easy to pick out of a crowd, if only to avoid. But since they might dose innocents like their children with it, we find it necessary to emphasize, for everybody:

Don't eat silver. Don't drink silver. Don't nibble on tea-trays, don't suck on repoussé serving spoons, don't do it.


Unless you want to match your suit of armour.

If you want to ingest something unproven, inefficacious, unpleasant, and expensive, take Super Blue-green Algae instead. At the very worst, you might turn a lovely shade of turquoise. Then you could pose as a mermaid, and wear seaweed in your hair.


*** *** *** *** *** *** ***


Book Two


This week was a very busy week for Dr. Orly Taitz, Esq.
Yesterday, March 25, 2009, she pounded the pavement in DC.



First stop was to William Chatfield’s office, Director of the Selective Service



Dr. Taitz provided Mr. Chatfield with a full copy of the dossier sent to the Attorney General, Eric Holder.



She highlighted sections of the dossier to show Mr. Chatfield that Barack Obama has hundreds of Social Security Numbers and properties associated with his name. One Social Security Number in particular was issued in Connecticut, and lists him as being 118 years old. (Attachment B).
(Attachment D) shows that Magic Plumbing had worked on the sprinkler system at the World Trade Center just days before 9/11. One of the men that performed this work lived in Brooklyn. He left Brooklyn on 9/11 and went to Tennessee. A woman that had a court date involving identity theft with the motor vehicle department in Tennessee met a mysterious death.



Mr. Chatfield had no comment or thought in reference to this material being shown to him.


While at the Senate building, a phone report was made to Captain Crowford, legal counsel to Admiral Mullen, Chairman of the Joint Chief of Staff.



From there she went to Senator Kyl’s office, Minority Whip and Senate Judiciary Committee



After that, it was off to the Pentagon.



"Respectfully submitted.and is being hand delivered on my way to the airport, flying back to California"

As always, brought to you by a grant from the Anna Russell Foundation: "I'm Not Making This Up You Know!"

Cross-posted at Rumproast, America's Meatiest Blog.

Meet Mike Doogan, another of Alaska's proud Public Servants. He used to be a journalist. Perhaps that is why Alaska's premier political blogger, AK Muckraker of Mudflats, infuriated him so much that he outed her.

After the Democratic representative was taken to task by Mudflats for sending rude emails to his constituents, he spent some state time digging, before using state resources to publish an article in his newsletter:

"Anonymous Blogger Anonymous No More
The identity of the person who writes the liberal Democratic Mudflats blog has been secret since the blog began, protected by the Anchorage Daily News, among others. My own theory about the public process is you can say what you want, as long as you are willing to stand behind it using your real name. So I was interested to learn that the woman who writes the blog is Anchorage resident ______.
Best wishes,
[signed]

I'm not linking to the newsletter, because it contains the blogger's name, and though almost all the toothpaste is out of the tube, there might still be enough in there for a couple of bicuspids.


Yes, actually, Mr. Doogan, a private citizen should be able to publish anything but actionable libel about a politician. You took on the burden of being a public figure when you ran for office. The woman who incurred your wrath has a right to her privacy, especially on the Internet, which can be a dangerous place. Moreover, she took you to the woodshed for your own stupidity and rudeness, but it's hardly reason to stalk and expose her.

Why are you even spending time on this narcissistic self-indulgence when your state is such a mess? You have remote villages with no sanitary facilities and makeshift schools, you have a volcano whoopsing on your oil tanks, and you waste your time on this?


That was part of an email I sent to this third-rate Jimmy Breslin, along with a promise that the minute he was primaried, I'd be sending a check to his opponent.

Should anybody wish to support Mudflats' creator, here you go:
Ph: (907) 465-4998 Or (800) 689-4998 Fax: (907) 465-4419
AK State Capitol Rm #112 Juneau, AK 99801
doogan@akdemocrats.org

The Republican Recovery Plan

The Orliad

From the Diary of Orly Taitz, D.D.S., J.D., C.O.D.


Yesterday I traveled to Idaho. I was able to address Chief Justice Roberts during the question answer session after his lecture. It was a grueling day, I left home at 3 in the morning after sleeping only 3 hours



and drove to San Diego



from there flew to Salt Lake City



from there to Spokane, Washington



from there I drove for a couple of hours to be in Moscow Idaho, to address Chief Justice Roberts.



After the lecture the audience was told, that they can ask questions, give their name and present a shot question. I was the first to run to the microphone



"My name is Orly Taitz, I am an attorney from Southern California. I left home at three o'clock in the morning and flew and drove thousands of miles to talk to you and ask you a question". Roberts seemed to be impressed by that and I continued. "Are you aware that there is criminal activity going on in the Supreme Court of the United States........



I am writing this in a hurry, ready to leave my hotel room, finishing yesterday's dinner leftovers and ready to board a plane for a grueling flight back home.



I missed time with my children, time that will never come back because a am criss crossing this country talking to Justices of the Supreme court, Representatives, Senators, FBI agents, Attorney Generals, US attorneys, telling all of them, what is wrong with you?



Did some evil magician put a spell on the men in this country and they stopped being men? Why are you afraid to tell this arrogant jerk from Africa and Indonesia- You need to go home,There is no proof that you are even a citizen. For all we know, you need to go back to Kenya and wait for your green card, and that after we try you for all the crimes perpetrated upon American citizens.

Brought to you by a grant from the Anna Russell School of "I'm Not Making This Up You Know!"



Cross-posted at Rumproast, America's Meatiest Blog.

Brisking About the Life

For he counteracts the Devil, who is death, by brisking about the life.
For in his morning orisons he loves the sun and the sun loves him.
For he is of the tribe of Tiger.
So wrote the great English poet and sometime asylum inmate Christopher Smart about his friend and comfort, in a moving, vivid, and wildly eccentric work that begins, "For I Will Consider My Cat Jeoffry."

Kevin K. of Rumproast said goodbye to his friend Hubcap yesterday. She was a beautiful creature, with her own eccentricities, and a worthy member of the tribe. She brisked about the life for fifteen good years.

That was thanks to Kevin and Chris. The very best to them.

Teh Crazy Goes Round And Round

And It Comes Out Here:
Defend Our Freedoms, the site of Orly Taitz, Esq.-in-the-state-of-California-only, D.D.S., is a full-featured site. Besides the usual incitements to rebellion, misspelled citations of antiquely inapplicable statutes, and pleas for money that are Orly's stock-in-trade, there's the Joke of the Day. Actually (if you don't include Orly's every blessed post), there are only two Jokes of the Day. They're neither hilarious nor terribly bad, not really worth the trip.

But one of the comments for the second Joke of the Day was thought provoking:

3/3/2009 6:14 PM Donna wrote:There is a very disturbing video on UTube and the title is Minnesota prepare for Martial Law. I first connected with it on Alex Jones. Now it is gone. I found it by typing in Minnesota prepares for Martial Law.Are there any viewers from Minnesota that can verify this"? This person gives a place called Farmington that is manufacturing the glass. He also states you can drive out of the city and find many of these roundabouts.

Roundabouts? Not the little traffic circles all over France, with the towns' names spelt out in marigolds in the middle? My mother and I were caught in one of them a few years back, and the worst danger was vertigo from constantly missing the turn-off to Perpignan. We did almost hit a sable-bearded gentleman in a tiny SmartCar; he beeped and shook his finger at us as if we were naughty children. (I should like to point out that my mother was driving, and had mistaken the gas for the brake. Again.)

Putting "martial law," "Minnesota" and "Roundabouts" into Dogpile, my favorite search engine (starring Arfie), yielded the video, which was certainly eye-opening. Roundabouts are not safety enhancements after all! The U.N. is going to put huts on top of them. They are just perfect for little U.N. huts, so that blue-helmeted U.N. troops can run out of the huts and suppress the free movement of true Americans. Even though anyone in a hut in the center of a roundabout would be vulnerable from all sides, as exposed as the little figures on a wedding cake.

Dogpiling "roundabouts" and "U.N. Huts" turned up " UN threatens minnesota with global government, page 1", which took me to a thread by "mastermind 77" at a site (apparently overpopulated with masterminds) called "abovetopsecret.com".

The site's a sort of aggregator of "alternative" theories, enough to provide point-and-laugh, or shiver, material for a lifetime.Though convenient, unlike Dick Cheney, I don't enjoy canned hunts. But having fairly followed this quail from the wild back to the compound, I thought I might as well stay.

Mastermind77 began the fulminating:

"I just got word from a person who knows a local contractor that UN checkpoints are being planned to go up in the next few years. With round-about's being put in to stifle traffic so these usurpers of sovereignty and liberty can have their way with our country."

Daedalu snarled back, >"Im someone though. a man hardened by the fires of time and experience, emboldened against evil and tyranny and for continuance of family, gathering and liberty. And I challenge evil at the highest or lowest realms of existence itself by stating truth, whether its too crazy, too real, or not enough."

The black helicopter rotors were certainly revving up.

The usurpers of sovereignty had their own website for these traffic stiflers, and when I went to roundaboutsusa.com, I found terrifying pictures of round dirt impediments to continuance of family and liberty. Here's a scary one, and this one will trouble your sleep.

There is a bright spot, but it's the only bright spot for the Masterminds who are forced to yield before entering these circular oppressors of liberty: never again will they ever have to make left turns.
Crossposted at Rumproast, America's Meatiest Blog.

Crunchy Inside

Last week, NASA launched a small telescope named after Johannes Kepler into space. I have my own reasons for enjoying this, but who could not like this squat little spacecraft? It looks like a cross between a Pisco bottle and a Taco Bell Burrito. It's only a third the size of that maladjusted diva, the Hubble. Its mission is to search for habitable planets circling other suns, taking pictures of them with its 95 mega-pixel camera. It has almost no moving parts. Just a few thrusters and a couple of little reaction wheels to keep it pointed at its chosen section of the Milky Way.

It also has a honeycombed mirror, a couple of starfinders, the 95 megapixel photometer, and a High Gain Antenna so it can call home once a week. All of this wrapped in a snazzy blue solar cape that James Brown might have envied. You could argue that the money could be better spent on earth, but the way the earth is heading, we might need extra planets some day. So Kepler's not just a pretty face; Kepler's practical.

Kepler also twitters, somewhat alarmingly, in the first person. But at least Kepler has enough sense not to talk to strangers:

In 1973, Nasa sent two Pioneer spacecrafts right out of our solar system, and had the bad judgement to affix plaques to them with directions on how to find us. As if that weren't enough, Man and Woman are depicted on the plaques. Man is a '70s white dude with an atrocious blow-dried do (with possible sideburns) and Woman is missing something: her vulva.

Carl Sagan, whose bright idea the plaque was, and his wife at the time, Linda, who contributed the drawings, omitted what he called "a very short line" (a few civilizations have fallen on the existence of that "very short line") to make sure that the plaque would escape earthly prudery and go on to miseducate the universe.

Carl Sagan was a brilliant man and an optimist. But cluing in advanced civilizations on our whereabouts, is that the best idea? Really?

The Envoys Arrive

that evening, at the Hay-Adams:

Cross-posted at Rumproast, America's Meatiest Blog

Fainting Goats for Freedom

Supporting Dr. Orly, One Camelid At A Time

In these tough times, it's difficult scraping up the funds to support Dentist/Lawyer Dr. Orly Taitz's heroic struggle to bring down the nauseatingly popular usurper, British-Indokenyan Muslibertheosocialazi Barry Dunsoeterror. Dr. Orly understands. But having no money shouldn't stop you from making sure her coffers are filled:

Defend Our Freedoms Foundation

Want to help out but don't have money to donate? Defend Our Freedoms has partnered with Breederville.com. By registering at "this link", you can set up a business store, hold an auction, sell your products and sell livestock while supporting Defend Our Freedoms.

No Ebay cookie jars here. These auctions are for a Redder State crowd. Breederville's categories run more to Ratites (Emu, Ostrich, Rhea), Camelids, Waterfowl, and all the more usual animals and farm implements. Other than exotic fish, urbanites would have trouble participating in Orly's auctions.

There is a Studding, Semen, or Embryo category. A vial of Semen is small enough to go right in even a dorm-size refrigerator, but sadly, nobody is auctioning off any Freedom sperm. Nor are most of the really enticing sections of the livestock universe represented: no Fallow Deer, no Alligators, no Byelorussian Harness Horses, and, especially disappointing, no Tennessee Fainting Goats. I happen to know of at least one sure customer for a Tennessee Fainting Goat.

But you can bid for rabbit meat. ""High Quality Rabbit Meat"" at that. You can also bid for three different kinds of worms, including live colored wax worms. They come in seven frighteningly neon shades, and they are live, not wax. You can also get a compartmented plastic WaxiTaxi, so you can take them wherever you go, segregated.

I looked into the waxworm world, and I learned how to raise them, how to color them, how they differ from mealworms, how long they will keep their color underwater (up to one hour, but if your worm is still there after an hour, you have more problems than impermanent worm dye). What I didn't learn is why. Why dye them seven colors in the first place? But this might be one of those instances of ""If you have to ask why, you'll never understand.""

Dr. Orly's followers are also raising crickets and crayfish for her, and you can bid on bison bratwurst for the cause. So if you can't find a place in your life for a pound of neon wax worms, there's no reason to despair. You can still participate in Dr. Orly's Auctions. They're the only satisfaction she's ever likely to find from a gavel.

Update: Yes To Democracy is a site that has followed every twist of the many Obama birth certificate lawsuits and moronic fantasies to issue from the tangled brains of legal lights such as Orly, Phil Berg, et. al. Strange Appar8us, a regular commenter there and at Rumproast, has written the ultimate tag-team steel-cage scenario involving the lot of them. Not to read it is to lead a life ultimately unfulfilled.

(Cross-posted at Rumproast, America's Meatiest Blog)

Driving the GOP

What better image for the GOP than that of a bloated, loud-mouthed, drug-addicted, Viagra hound multi-millionaire sitting in his ormolu encrusted Palm Beach mansion hoping the president's programs for rescuing the economy fail? And the proud parade of Republicans prostrating themselves before his Steele-reinforced throne?

Mrs. Polly On the Air: KPFT's the Inner Side

Scooter, Host of the Innerside on KPFT, the Houston Pacifica station, said, "I've been thinking of having a Ladies' Night for the women of Rumproast. What do y'all think?" The women of Rumproast (America's Meatiest Blog) looked at each other, gulped, and said, "Yer on, Scooter!"

"This ain't no BS Blogtalk radio either, this is a 100,000 watt antenna, we go out all over Texas and the Gulf Coast," Scooter reminded us. "It'll be fun, we'll crunch some bones."

Rumproast first met Scooter through the mewls and hisses of diehard Hillary Clintoniacs known as PUMAs. One of them had bid on an hour of airtime at KPFT. The PUMAs used their hour to alternately scream at and dump startled KPFT callers who disagreed with them. Since they had "proudly voted a straight Republican ticket", and KPFT is a Pacifica station, that meant everybody.

To Scooter, host of his own weekly satirical program scheduled immediately after, this was a gorgeous, gift-wrapped box of crazy, delivered right to his doorstep.

He immediately put together a montage of PUMA screeches which he called "Five Minutes of Hate from the Daughters of the Democratic Confederacy." That, plus a surreal pitched battle between forces of PUMA and Rumproast on the KPFT program director's blog, led to Scooter's and the Meaty Blog's alliance.

Scooter invited two Rumproast personages to guest on his show: proprietor Kevin K, and RR's foremost practitioner of both gravity and waggery, billed intriguingly as "in the dark robes, the mysterious Dr. Strange." The show went well, and no KPFT callers were harmed during the broadcast.


Rumproast has, besides Kevin, three active posters, all women, including me, Mrs. Polly. It has an audience of mixed genders and sexual orientations. The PUMAs, incredulous that anyone with female body parts would not follow in their wandering pawprints, tastefully branded the women of Rumproast as "little female house slaves."

So I found it immensely satisfying to be invited on the radio instead of, as Scooter called her," Icepick Voice," PUMA's "Five Minutes of Hate" headliner (who artlessly expected to be asked back for more of her squeaky wisdom).

What was not so satisfying was the powerful case of nerves I developed. "It's a conversation, not an interview," Scooter said, but I worked myself up to a fever pitch nevertheless. It was the sort of neurotic mania that I could cure when I was ten by lying on the cool patch of rug under the piano. Now lying under the piano wouldn't have the same effect unless I added a bottle of Scotch. So I scoured the papers, made notes, and ate chocolate instead.

I also studied Kevin's and Strange's program. Jesus. They talked knowledeably about cabinet nominations. They had a world-view. They quipped. (Strange, on Obama's speechwriter, who had been photographed groping a cut-out of Hillary: "Kevin, you shouldn't publicize that--there are people who have cardboard family members.")

The show was how long? I listened again, and was slightly cheered on the second hearing. That was a bunch of time spent on Jennifer Aniston posing in nothing but a necktie! And Tina Fey. Yes, yes, brains, beauty, total package, what man wouldn't admire her, yes. I smiled, reserved to myself the right to think of George Clooney, and felt like a much calmer little female house slave. I stopped cramming for the test, and relaxed a bit. Aren't men wonderful, though.

On Thursday, 11:30 P.M. East coast time, our phone rang, I picked it up, and said, "Hello Scooter!" Instantly, my thoughts flipped over like beetles on their backs, their little legs wiggling helplessly. Scooter tried leading the witness, asking me about subjects I'd said I could discourse on. I shamelessly let my fellow guest, Denise Williams, take the first few questions.

About ten minutes into the show, my brain stopped flat-lining and began to function in a halting kind of way. I'm not entirely sure what I said, but I seem to remember "Arabic naughty lingerie parties." And telling a story about snarfing communion wafers as if they were potato chips.


If KPFT thought it had gotten angry calls from the PUMA invasion, I'm pretty sure they paled in comparison to the inadvertant combo crusade and fatwa that have probably been declared on that station. A crufatwasade.

Always happy to bring people together.

Here it is, the half-hour Innerside production of what we're calling Prime Rib Radio.

Next Thursday will be the second half of the Prime Rib Radio series, 10:30 PM Houston Time, 11:30 PM Eastern Time, with Scooter, marindenver and Betty Cracker, the other little female house slaves of Rumproast.

Scooter's Website is AcksisofEvil.org, where he has all his shows archived, and pictures of his family, his atheist friends, and his ferrets.

After the show was over, I hung up, and entered a state of absolute liquifaction. I sank into bed like syrup into a waffle, and allowed Mr. Polly to overindulge me terribly. In other words, life returned to normal.Mrs. Polly recuperates

Memorabilious

Looking for a new culturally enriching experience, or just want to take your sweetie someplace a little different for date night? You really haven't been anywhere until you've experienced Heidi Li's latest project, The Museum of Misogynistic Memorabilia.

The MoMM is not yet in a bricks-and-mortar condition, but Heidi Li (JD, PhD) is working on it. She has her mission statement:

"The point of displaying misogynistic memorabilia, ranging from the horrifying to the offensive to the sophomoric is to showcase the ways in which women or their rights and interests have been hatefully characterized both historically and in our own time."

And, from Heidi Li's rather grandly named Founder's Blog: "Memorializing and witnessing the propaganda and tools used to oppress has played a vital role in raising awareness of how oppression occurs."

Well and good. Dr. Heidi Li is not covering the entire, depressing, vast history of misogyny itself, but merely hateful characterizations of women through "propaganda and tools". She still has a rich field of exploration. From attic vases depicting vengeful cuckolded goddess Hera, to catchpenny prints of women as witches and hags, to controversial portrayals of women in hip-hop, Dr. Heidi Li is certainly not lacking for material from which to draw. So let's take a look at the offerings.

The MoMM's online stores consist of, so far, ten exhibits, divided into two parts:

"General Collection" and "Bloopers". "Bloopers" has the notation: "People say the darndest things!"

The "General Collection" currently consists of seven items: four picture files and three articles. The articles' focus is as follows:

1. the misogynistic labeling of 2008 presidential candidate Hillary Rodham Clinton;

2. the misogyny racial bigotry connection during the 2008 Democratic Primary season, and
"NOBODY LOVES A FAT WOMAN: Portraits of Female Obesity in Early American Cinema."

3. Portraits of Female Obesity in Early American Cinema."

This last immediately caught my interest for reasons we need not go into, need we?

It turned out to be a Georgetown student paper for a 2006 Media Historiography class, spring semester (Dr. Heidi Li is a law professor at Georgetown). Wretched co-opted self-hating fifth-columnist that I am, I was immediately enchanted by the title of a 1905 film, "Airy Fairy Lillian Tries On Her New Corsets". I tried to see if any of it was available on YouTube (Sorry to say, no). But the author of the paper, Joseph Kerr, in his description of the action, unkindly notes:

"Airy Fairy Lillian, wearing a sheer slip and underwear, attempts to put on her corset, an item of clothing, which ironically is supposed to help a woman look slim, but with a body the size of this, a corset is like putting a band-aid on an ax wound."

That is certainly a description any feminist will find it hard to forget, so thanks Dr. Heidi Li!
Let's just move on to the pictorial exhibits, none of which are original content:

4. Obama's chief speechwriter gropes a representation of Hillary Rodham Clinton.

5. Hillary Clinton nutcrackers. ( Dr. Heidi Li doesn't mention Corkscrew Bill, who is just what you imagine. He's available from stupid.com, BTW. Along with the Obama Yes We Can Opener)

6. Selected items for sale related to the theme "Bro's Before Ho's" (two items, one a T-shirt with a picture of Obama and You-know-who, for sale on Amazon. Amazon. Yes.)

7. Lucy Burns serving time for fighting for women's suffrage

It seems that 75% of the misogyny in the world is directed at Hillary Clinton, and happened during 2008. It looks very much as if an exhibit in each category has been hurriedly thrown in as a token offering to all the rest of womanity. The Lucy Burns picture, while historically important, doesn't fit the stated parameters of the MoMM. It isn't an example of misogynistic characterization, it's flat-out woman's history. And, as a Juris Doctor might say, it opens the door to a more complete, vibrant, depiction of the triumph of women as more than simply victims.

Dr. Heidi Li does not go through that door. Instead, she gives us a gallery of "misogyny bloopers":

8. Howard Kurtz, Katie Couric, and Cognitive Dissonance.

9. Ms. Magazine January 2009 Inauguration Special Issue Cover -"Despite then President-elect's lack of any track record in establishing measures to protect or promote women and their rights, Ms. Magazine decides to pose him in "Super Man"-like fashion and declare him a "feminist.

"
10. Carville on Favreau - (the Ragin Cajun thinks that since Hillary accepted Favreau's apology, the incident should be over.)

Once again, there's a ringer thrown in to disguise Dr. Heidi Li's reduction of all womanhood to a single pantsuited politician. And her definition of "Bloopers" is somewhat eccentric: generally, the perpetrator of a blooper is trying to say something else, recognizes the mistake, and looks forward to picking up residuals from being included in the next episode of Bloopers, Blunders, and Misogynistic Logical Fallacies.

Dr. HL may think that whomever disagrees with her is perpetrating a blooper, but she is not the ultimate arbitor of blooperhood. If it were as subjective as that, I might classify her entire site as a blooper, and she seems very much to have meant it to be the way it is---aside from spelling it "Misyogyny Museum" on her title page.

So the exhibits of the MoMM are: Hillary, Hillary, Fat Women, Hillary, Hillary, Hillary, Lucy Burns, Katie Couric, Hillary, Hillary.

Dr. Heidi Li has an ambitious agenda. She has solicited for both funds and material for the MoMM, so that it may grow into a properly curated traveling exhibition. The exhibits so far can all be obtained with the click of a mouse button in under ten minutes and in the months since the MoMM's inception, few have been added. But the need to press on with the fundraising is fierce, so fierce that Dr. Heidi Li is willing to press even when the circumstances might call her taste into question.

When Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg was operated on for pancreatic cancer, Dr. Heidi Li sprang into action:

Heidi Li, on February 5th, 2009 at 9:44 pm Said:
I know Ruth Bader Ginsburg slightly, and her husband, Marty Ginsburg, who is my colleague on the Georgetown faculty rather better. They are wonderful people, and of course my heart and thoughts are with them. A humble suggestion: If you care to send 51 Percent any amount (including .51 cents, with a message of support for Justice Ginsburg, not only will that be noted on the website, but I will make sure that all results and messages reach Justice Ginsburg).

I used to have a piece that would have been perfect for the MoMM. My father was obliged to go to Las Vegas on business, and I asked him to bring me back the tackiest thing he could find. He returned with something that more than fit the bill: a ceramic ashtray depicting a naked woman in a bathtub, on the side of which was lettered: "I HAD A TUB OF FUN IN LAS VEGAS". I loved that ashtray, and was heartbroken when it was lost in a move. Actually, I don't think the MoMM would be interested--not Hillary-centered enough. And I was just not politically conscious enough to be offended when my father gave it to me.
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Note: There is a National Women's History Museum in Washington, D.C. They have their eye on a building to house their collections, and are seeking funding. They have a wonderful website, and the difference in attitude between the NWHM and the MoMM are exemplified by this statement:

If we - and future generations - are to learn all the lessons of the past upon which to build the future, we must be aware of the true experiences and contributions of women. Clearly, men cannot get there alone. Together, all things are possible.
----Karen Stasen, Founder, National Women's History Museum