Headcases make bad law

There are several good arguments for not overturning Roe v Wade

…I’m just not sure “I’m in a relationship with a rapist and might get pregnant” is one of them. And besides, wouldn’t this be covered under a rape exemption?

There seems to be a school of thought – another example is here – that US society and the entire legal system should be arranged primarily for the benefit of women who have found themselves in bad relationships.

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Woman questioned, outrage ensues

This, according to the BBC, constitutes a “Handmaid’s Tale” moment:

Dr Acosta, who is chief executive of the Young Women’s Christian Association, and her daughter had been on a tour of Europe when they arrived back to Texas on Sunday.

“There was a huge line of people,” Dr Acosta said. “We walked up to the customs officer. He lifted our passports.”

Dr Acosta said her daughter was “like velcro” with her as she was very tired after a long flight.

“I was asked if Sybonae was my daughter and I said yes. Then they asked why, if she was my daughter, I didn’t have the same last name.

“I told them I had already established my career and earned my doctorate with my last name Acosta so I had decided not to change it.

“One said I should consider changing my name to reflect that I am her mother.

In some countries – Russia, for example – it is forbidden for a parent to take a child abroad without the written permission of the other parent. This is to stop one parent from just disappearing overseas with the children. As a policy, it’s sound enough, and the expats with kids in Russia soon got used to it. The US doesn’t expressly forbid lone parents travelling abroad with their children without such a letter but:

A CBP spokesperson said: “We strongly recommend that unless a child is accompanied by both parents, the adult travelling with the child have a note from the child’s other parent.”

Dr Acosta says she didn’t have a note from her ex-husband. And she was taken into a separate area for questioning.

Again, rather routine and sensible. And if the mother had a different name from the kid, how are they supposed to know the child is hers? Hence the questioning.

“They thought I might be a human trafficker,” she said.

A CBP spokesperson said: “On December 23, 2008, President Bush signed the William Wilberforce Trafficking Victims Protection Reauthorization Act of 2008 to combat human trafficking.

“In instances where the relationship of a minor and accompanying adult can’t be immediately determined, CBP may ask additional questions to determine relationship.

A bit of a pain, maybe a little humiliating, but hardly the stuff of dystopian nightmare depicted in The Handmaid’s Tale. But her reaction speaks volumes:

“I proceeded to tell them that they were perpetuating an institutionalised, misogynistic system which required that a woman take her husband’s name. I am furious.” Dr Acosta said.

Oh please. Your daughter has her father’s name. Why? Are you perpetuating an institutionalised, misogynistic system?

Dr Acosta said her “biggest fear” was her daughter would be separated from her.

I doubt that: if you were, you’d not have gone off on a rant about institutionalised, misogynistic systems which require that a woman take her husband’s name: you’d have answered the questions calmly and rationally. You might also have foreseen the difficulties of travelling with a minor who does not share your name, and obtained a letter from your ex-husband.

One Facebook user wrote: “You should be furious. What if she had been adopted or you had remarried? I did not take my husband’s last name either and it infuriates me when people imply I am less of a wife for not changing my name!”

You may do what you like with your name, but if you’re travelling alone with a child whose name doesn’t match yours, expect trouble at borders.

A CBP spokesperson said: “We strive to ensure that travellers are processed fairly and efficiently, as we endeavour to make certain that all individuals attempting entry into the United States do so in a legal and secure manner.”

Handmaid’s Tale, indeed. Shame on the BBC for publishing this crap.

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Robin plays Hillary

Ancient readers may remember last year I gave my opinion on House of Cards and wasn’t very impressed:

Somewhere between Seasons 2 and 3 the feminists got hold of the script and effectively made the show all about Frank Underwood’s wife, played by Robin Wright.

The audience, by having it rammed down their throats every episode, is expected to unconditionally accept that Claire Underwood is a brilliant politician, responsible for every success her husband has achieved, desired sexually by every man who meets her, and is easily capable as a president herself (there is a Season 5 on the way).

Unsurprisingly:

The eight-episode final season of House of Cards, expected to drop on Netflix this autumn, will focus on Claire Underwood’s career.

The character became the US president at the end of the last season, a position previously held by her on-screen husband.

I suspect this was the intention long before Spacey quit the show amid allegations he’d been having affairs with young men who may or may not have been wholly enthused with the idea. I’ll not bother watching it, especially now Spacey has gone – one of the few in the show who could act. By contrast, and as I said before, Wright wears the same arse-hugging style of dress or skirt in every shot, manages a single facial expression throughout the entire series, and for each pivotal scene the only thing that changes are the words being spoken.

I can imagine that Season 5 will be a liberal fantasy of what a Hillary Clinton presidency would have looked like, minus the corruption and deteriorating health. I can see why there’s a market for this, and no doubt the media will be gushing with praise at a season which “shows us what is possible”, but I can’t imagine any men will be watching it. Not any that know how to use a torque wrench, anyway.

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I can’t get no satisfaction

Via reader David Moore, this article:

Open-plan offices could be making women feel stressed and isolated, research shows.

Over the course of two years, Rachel Morrison, a senior research lecturer at Auckland University of Technology, looked at whether or not open office plans were promoting productivity.

She found an interesting difference between the answers men and women gave.

Let me guess: men couldn’t give a rat’s arse either way and wondered what half the questions even meant, whereas the women bitched at length about every minor annoyance?

“I followed and surveyed 99 employees from a law firm as they were transitioning into an open-plan office space and I started noticing a trend in the answers I was receiving from women in the company,” Morrison said.

While the male employees of the company saw the open-plan office as a positive change, many of the women said they felt “stressed”, “watched” and “judged” in the new layout.

Now there’s a surprise. What’s interesting is this article is from New Zealand which, as William of Ockham can confirm, is about 50 years behind everywhere else when it comes to work practices. Open plan offices are pretty much standard now, and I know of very few companies that still give offices to all but the most senior people (and HR, of course.)

“Those feelings of being watched were only on women’s radar, so many of the women reported feeling watched, viewed or monitored but not a single man did.”

It’s almost as if men and women are fundamentally different, isn’t it?

Overall, she found there were a few negative outcomes in an open-plan office.

“I found relationships between co-workers were negatively affected as well as increased stress for women, which resulted in more sick days and less productivity,” she said.

Alternative headline: Women cannot cope in modern workplace, study finds.

Business psychologist Jasbindar Singh agreed open-plan offices could cause stress.

“Many women feel a certain amount of social pressure from being in an open-plan office to dress and act a certain way because they feel as though they are on display the whole time,” she said.

No doubt this is the fault of company management or, failing that, the patriarchy.

Whether women truly were being watched and monitored in the work place more than men remains to be ascertained, and Morrison said it was beyond the scope of her project.

Oh, I have no doubt they are: by other women. Unless any women are under 27 and hot, the men won’t be watching at all.

Of course, this doesn’t mean all women are uncomfortable in open-plan offices; I’ve been working in them since 2000 and I’m reasonably sure the women didn’t feel undue pressure because they didn’t have their own office. But it’s part of an interesting pattern or women, having demanded equal access to the workplace, finding it’s not to their liking and – inevitably – things must be changed to accommodate them. Here’s another example:

Here we have a woman joining an industry and then complaining how things are done when she gets there. Note she’s not complaining of sexual harassment, which would be unacceptable, merely about what people choose to do at tech events. If she doesn’t like what she herself says is normal about an industry, why did she join it? To cause trouble?

The thing is, I know a lot of female engineers and many actually like the male dominated environments in which they work. A competent woman in among a bunch of men can have an enjoyable experience indeed, because (according to them) men are simple and easy to understand and there’s no silly competitiveness. They actually prefer to work with other men than women, or so several have told me. Similarly, they entered into engineering and the oil industry because both provided an environment they liked working in. They didn’t join the oil business and then set about complaining how things are done when they got there, they embraced it because that’s what attracted them in the first place.

If women want to engender hostility from men in the workplace, the best way to go about it is to demand access to male-leaning industries and then campaign to get them changed for their benefit as soon as they arrive. I have no doubt they’ll be successful, but whether they’ll be happy with the final result is another matter entirely.

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Freezing eggs won’t help you, ma’am

A reader sends me a link to this article which begins thusly:

Today is my birthday – I’m 36. I’m celebrating, since you ask, with an outing to Richmond Deer Park, followed by champagne and pizza in the garden. I know: so civilised and mature.

This is to let you know she’s a middle class wannabe posho. If only single women in their mid-thirties knew how unoriginal stuff like this is, and how shallow it makes them look, they’d quit doing it in a heartbeat.

Anyway, just over a year ago, heading for 35, I was sitting in a pub with my father in central London…

You just knew it wasn’t going to be in a shopping centre in Wolverhampton, didn’t you?

…and I asked him a favour. With his coolly quantitative analytical skills – he studied physics as a young man – could he please help me decide whether I should freeze my eggs before I turned 35?

And he thought he was going for a quiet pint. Of all the topics to discuss with your dad, this is an odd one indeed. And all because he studied physics in his youth.

I didn’t think too hard about whether the ‘right’ man to do it with would appear. In fact, I have always thought the desire to be a mother must trump romantic uncertainty. If need be, I’d find a male friend (or try to find one) to co-parent. If I really wanted a child and nothing else offered itself I could always go the sperm bank route.

After which you could carve out a career writing articles on how hard it is to raise a child alone, and how the government should do more for people like you.

It turns out that in this respect I’m a bit different from my peers. A report last week found that women are freezing their eggs not because of their careers as has been commonly assumed but to give themselves more time to find a good partner with whom to start a family.

Oh yes, their failure to settle down with a suitable partner in a decade and a half is because they’ve not had quite enough time.

The Yale University study, which analysed the egg freezing motivations of 150 Israeli and American women, found that women “weren’t freezing to advance, they were facing the overarching problem of partnership”.

Well, yes and no. Most will have prioritised their careers such that they’re now too old to find a decent partner. So while it’s true they may not want to advance further, the root cause is their careers took priority at a time when there was an abundance of suitable men.

Thanks to the internet, women may have more romantic and sexual options than ever before, but the quality of options is downright depressing.

Whereas 35 year old women who don’t know what they want and turn to their fathers for advice on egg-freezing is just what every guy dreams of. Every woman I speak to or read on the subject of online dating complains about the quality of men as if they’re the catch of the year. They don’t seem to realise the men they’re meeting on the internet are their peers, counterparts in the same dating pool.

Clearly, many women freezing their eggs think it’s possible that the right man can eventually be found with a few extra years’ searching.

It’s amazing what desperate people will believe, isn’t it?

Have you ever scrolled through the male options on the dating apps Tinder, OkCupid, or Bumble? Try it. It’s not pretty: man after man gurning from a cringingly contrived mirror selfie, big black sunglasses on, too much hair gel, leering or vacant expressions and an incoherent word or two by way of ‘profile’ description.

Because the women on Tinder and OkCupid just exemplify marriage material, don’t they? The duck-faced pouting, the cleavage shots, the list of demands in the profile, the sense of entitlement that accompanies every description, the empty references to travel, food, and “having fun”. And leering expressions, you say? Here’s a photo of the author:

Be still my beating heart.

Often the man is posing, topless, with some kind of animal. (I don’t know why that’s a thing, but it is). There’s very little boyfriend – let alone father – material about.

This woman has been writing about dating and relationships for 20 years, yet here she is, single, asking her dad for advice, and sneering at the men she finds online.

When one does manage to find anyone halfway nice looking and able to hang a sentence together, good luck actually arranging a satisfactory meeting with them.

I imagine they make a beeline for the door the moment they discover you’re a feminist.

My friend Katrina, 37, who happens to have just completed three rounds of egg freezing, is a case in point. Like the women in the study, she froze her eggs not for the purposes of her (extremely successful) career but in the hopes of finding a partner.

In her attempt to do so, she has doggedly trawled a number of dating sites and apps, and tried speed dating events for hipsters and posh people. She’ll often be chatting with several men at once. But when it comes to actually meeting up, they simply vanish into thin air – or, like one mysteriously-occupied “entrepreneur”, keep ignoring the fact that she has a demanding day job, and suggesting impromptu coffees at one in the afternoon instead of the evening drinks she offered.

Firstly, men don’t care she has a demanding day job: after all, that is likely what landed her in this position in the first place. If she is still prioritising her work, chances are she’s not going to make a very good partner. Secondly, a quick coffee at 1pm is much better for a first date than evening drinks. There is no pressure, no expense, you’re in a public place so it’s quite safe, and if you don’t like one another you can leave easily. It sounds as though this Katrina expects to be romanticised over expensive cocktails she won’t be paying for, and is unwilling to compromise. Little wonder she’s single.

It’s all very frustrating and leads me to think that women who want to be mothers should go a non-traditional route, be that sperm bank or something else, rather than waiting around for a Mr Right that may well never appear.

Notice it never seems to occur to these women that they might be the problem? What if Mr Right can’t do evening drinks but only a quick coffee during the day? Oh well too bad, better go freeze my eggs.

Some posit that the mismatch between successful women in their 30s and their male counterparts comes down to women being now the more educated sex. Certainly, my single friends and I all feel that as the quantity of options facing women in their 30s has soared, the quality of the options has dropped off a cliff.

There’s that complaint about quality again, as if Maria Sharapova is writing this column rather than some haggard old feminist. And I’ve written before about how women are so self-absorbed they refuse to date men they believe are intellectually inferior to them. I feel sorry for some single women, but not those who treat men with such utter disdain as the author and her friends seemingly do.

Education may be partly to do with it. But perhaps it’s just that women – trained from an early age to be self-aware, emotionally astute and good at multi-tasking – reach a peak of all-pistons-firing personhood in their 30s and 40s that men simply can’t match.

You really believe that? That you’re so brilliant men simply can’t match you? Or could it be you’re not very nice, you’d make a lousy partner, and men simply aren’t interested?

Whatever the underlying cause, as long as egg freezing brings women relief from stress I’m all for it.

Alas, freezing eggs is so far removed from a solution to your problems it’s a category error, akin to Googling for misplaced car keys. Hell’s bells, feminism has wrought some damage, hasn’t it?

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Melania’s Jacket

Demonstrating the gravity and rigour which justifies their unique funding model, the BBC offers five reasons why Melania Trump chose to wear a green jacket with “I don’t care. Do you?” printed on the back. Personally, I think it was her reaction to weeks of gleeful speculation from the press that her absence from public appearances was due to abuse at the hands of her husband rather than kidney surgery, but others differ.

The BBC doesn’t go this far, but some commentators believe her choice of attire was a deliberate snub to Donald Trump, who – as the speculation around her medical absence proved – are desperate to believe she hates her husband and is deeply unhappy. Now it may be that Melania’s marriage is an unhappy one, but you’d hardly rely on the modern media to give an appraisal of what makes a satisfied wife: half of it’s made up of crazed feminists raging about how awful men are, with the other half being pencil-necked omegas who think white-knighting for women who despise them will get them laid. And speaking of crazed feminists:

Antonova seems to think because her own marriage ended in disaster she is qualified to ascertain whether other women, who have given no sign that they are unhappy, are trapped in an abusive relationship. I have no doubt that Melania knows what she’s doing, although I don’t think she’s too keen on the First Lady role. She’s spent her entire adult life around brash assholes like Trump, and I doubt his character took her by surprise. Indeed, women seem to like the man, and others just like him, which no doubt drives feminists nuts. None of this should come as a surprise to anyone who’s read Chateau Heartiste or similar.

Of course, the comforting fallback is to say Melania’s only with Donald for the money. Which she might be, and everyone said that about Rupert Murdoch’s young wife Wendi Deng. However, when some dickhead tried to throw a custard pie in her huband’s face during questioning by MPs during the phone hacking scandal, she stood up and belted him one.

Y’know, maybe these eastern women actually have some pride in their husbands and take their role as a wife seriously? That would explain why media types are confused.

Finally, I turned on France 24 and saw a discussion about Melania’s jacket between two men and two ageing Frenchwomen who looked as though they’d been drinking vinegar all morning. They agreed the Trump camp had “lost control” by “allowing” Melania to dress in a such a manner, and offered the time she chose to wear high heels as another example of her tin-eared sartorial choices. Naturally, it didn’t seem to occur to any of them that a woman ought to be allowed to dress as she pleases; presumably they’d not be too happy if Fox News spent a segment of a show discussing how haggard Macron’s wife looks no matter what she wears.

Now a bunch of ageing, single women criticising how a prettier, more successful married woman dresses is nothing new, of course. What amuses me is they call themselves feminists.

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Upskirting

This story and accompanying video crossed my Facebook page late last week:

Gina Martin was at a festival when a man took a photograph up her skirt and shared it with his friends. When the police told her they could not do anything because upskirting was not a crime, she started a campaign. This is how a 26-year-old woman with no legal or political experience is trying to change the law.

The first thing that crossed my mind was that these festivals probably attract weirdos and sex pests who mark down lefty women with facial piercings, tattoos, or funny-coloured hair for special attention. Trying to change national law based on what went down at a festival is a bit like campaigning for restrictions on alcohol after a bad experience on a stag do in Prague. Now upskirting – the practice of taking a photo up a woman’s skirt without her permission – is an unpleasant thing to happen and I can see why women want it stopped, but there are a few points I’d like to make before we rush headlong into creating yet more laws.

Firstly, let’s not pretend this is something so traumatic it needs to be dealt with as matter of priority by the national government. I haven’t seen any upskirting pictures but I can’t imagine they show very much other than some blurry skin and what might be knickers. As the police mentioned in the video said, they’d show more than you’d them to show, but they’re hardly pornographic and you couldn’t identify anyone from them. When the woman in the video says “I had no rights over my own body at that point” she is engaging in laughable hyperbole which is all too common when talking about women’s rights in the modern era.

Indeed, this looks to me like a campaign by middle class British feminists to further their credentials as perpetual victims; there are fewer more middle class pursuits than attending festivals and complaining about the behaviour of the people they encounter. Another sign this is more about advancing the political aims of feminists than women’s rights is the immediate demand the national government makes new laws criminalising men. Never mind how they are to be enforced: how is upskirting to be defined exactly, and what is deemed admissible evidence? The woman in the video snatched the offender’s phone and ran off with it, which is usually described as theft. Existing laws cover the creation and distribution of pornographic content especially where minors are concerned, and there are already laws regarding voyeurism. But the people pushing this don’t care, they just want more laws with which to threaten men who might be behaving in ways they disapprove of. How long before some poor sap is arrested for taking a picture on the tube while sat opposite a radical feminist in a short skirt, or for taking an innocent photo beneath an escalator?

The other issue is that feminists are in many ways responsible for what’s going on here. In order to fend off Cathy Newman, I am not saying women deserve upskirting for wearing revealing clothing. Instead, I’m saying their relentless campaign to emasculate ordinary, decent men and insist traditional gender roles are obsolete relics of a bygone era has left them vulnerable to the inevitable weirdos that prowl any society. I’ve written about that recently:

From what I can tell the main beneficiaries of feminists’ efforts to remove traditional male roles from society, and the collapse of common-sense policing, are sex-pests who are free to operate without fear of either.

There was a time when peeping Toms and upskirters would have been swiftly dealt with by those in the immediate vicinity of the offence; basically, a couple of blokes would have given him a good kicking and sent him on his way, and if he persisted or targeted children he’d have got a lot worse. Indeed, this is pretty much how it works in places where men are generally still expected to behave as men. But modern women decided they were strong and independent and didn’t need a chaperone. Only actually they do, just nowadays the chaperone is the government. Notice the first thing the woman in the video did is run to a policeman: having decided men no longer have a role to play in society as protectors of women’s decency, modern women rush to find a policeman as soon as they’re subject to what they believe is an indecent act. How this is supposed to demonstrate progress is beyond me.

It’s also revealing when she says “the authorities that were meant to be there to support me, now weren’t”. Well, yeah – imagine how the girls in Rotherham felt. One would have thought British feminists concerned with women’s rights had learned a harsh lesson in not relying on the police and other authorities to protect them, but it appears they haven’t. Instead, having seen the authorities utterly abandon working class girls to be raped by gangs of men from an alien culture, they think things will be different for them, presumably because they’re nice upstanding middle class girls with Instagram accounts and home counties accents.

Despite the defeat of the upskirting bill thanks to a Tory MP who thought the opposition shouldn’t be making laws, this will likely be railroaded through the legislature by Theresa May; this sort of thing is right up her street. We’ll see much celebration from wealthy, middle class feminists which will drown out the ongoing and actual sexual abuse of women up and down the country, followed by some token prosecutions of hapless men who took a photo at the wrong time in the presence of some deranged harpy. Otherwise, things will carry on much as before and soon we’ll be hearing how the childlike faith women put in government was misplaced, decent men have largely abandoned them, and we need yet more laws.

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Lunatic Asylum

I don’t know if this is true:

If so, it’s insane. Firstly, domestic violence is an extremely complex issue at the best of times, so much so that police in every country avoid it like the plague. By its very nature it is something to be handled as locally as possible, preferably by other family members  or the immediate surrounding society. Failing that, local authorities and police are the next-best placed to intervene, then the national government who one would hope understands the societal nuances surrounding domestic relations in whatever country we’re talking about. The idea that the US government is in a position to evaluate claims of domestic violence in Guatemala is ludicrous.

But that’s not all. If the conditions for asylum have widened to women who are “unable to leave their relationships” you might as well do away with the borders altogether. There was a time when wealthy, organised societies granted asylum to those fleeing war, famine, and appalling persecution; now it appears to include women who’ve made poor relationship choices (one wonders if men fleeing punitive alimony payments can also seek asylum in the US). Any society taking this approach is not going to remain wealthy and organised for very long, after which it won’t be in a position to take in asylum seekers of any sort. Perhaps that’s why Trump’s administration is looking to change it?

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An Illustration of a Changed Society

This thread was worth a read but it’s now protected, perhaps because of the reactions the author was getting to it. Basically, the lady in question was on the train in the UK and some creepy older guy sat down right beside two girls in their late teens and started harassing them. The lady intervened and the man spent the next few minutes yelling at her and became very aggressive, but ultimately left them alone. The girls thanked the lady, who lamented that nobody else in the carriage intervened. Now good on her for stepping in and rescuing the girls from this sex-pest, but there are good reasons why nobody helped her.

British feminists – of which the author is one, according to her Twitter bio – have spent decades eradicating traditional gender roles, and have been so successful that the role men now play in society is a mere shadow of what it once was. Indeed, many aspects of what was normal male behaviour is now illegal thanks to feminist lobbying. Now this may be a good thing for women in some ways but, like everything involving societal trade-offs, it came at a price. Men, having been told women don’t need their protection, having been accused of being rapists and sex-pests simply for being male, and having been told endlessly their natural behaviour is “problematic” to the extent young boys are given powerful drugs to control it, are now behaving very differently to how they used to. They are no longer chivalrous, they are no longer willing to assist strange women in distress, and are extremely risk averse. Feminists have worked extremely hard to emasculate men, and now they’re paying the price of living in a society where their efforts have been successful. Unbelievably, many seem to think their work is only just beginning and men are still a problem, but here we are.

In addition, men are now well aware that common-sense policing has long since disappeared and any interaction with Plod could well leave them in a world of trouble. If a man had intervened and a fight ensued, he would probably have been arrested. If he has a wife, a family, a job, or a mortgage the process in front of him might be very costly indeed. Why risk it? And how does he know what the circumstances are? For all he knows this might be a domestic dispute, and any intervention involving kids might see the idiotic police and feminist-driven CPS conspiring to put him on a sex-offenders register. Wasn’t there a story some years ago about a man being charged as a sex-offender after grabbing the arm of a young girl who was about to run into a busy road? Again, why risk it?

A few generations ago plenty of men would have done something in the situation described by the tweet’s author but society has changed, and this didn’t happen at the behest of the sort of men who would have come to the girls’ aid. Rather, the shift in societal behaviour was demanded by those who now lament the current state of affairs.  From what I can tell the main beneficiaries of feminists’ efforts to remove traditional male roles from society, and the collapse of common-sense policing, are sex-pests who are free to operate without fear of either. Well done, folks. Well done indeed.

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Sex and the City didn’t air on Discovery

I often remark on here that rather too many women thought Sex and the City was a documentary. I’ve now found an article that shows I wasn’t exaggerating:

When the last episode of “Sex and the City” aired in February 2004, I hosted a viewing party for 200 guests. It was my swan song as well: Eight months later, I would move to New York, where, armed with my “Sex and the City” DVDs, my transformation really began.

Based on what I knew from “SATC,” I expected the city to sweep me off my feet. I envisioned nonstop brunching and shopping.

What always surprises me about these stories is the lack of friends and family who try to talk some sense into them.

I lived on food bought for me on dates and the occasional bodega tuna sandwich. For clothes, it was wrap dresses from Diane von Furstenberg sample sales combined with loans from designers who took pity on me — like Betsey Johnson, whom I’d interviewed at Fashion Week. Different men I dated gave me YSL shoes and status purses, just like Big did for Carrie on “SATC.”

She’s relying on “dates” for food and clothes. Yay for female empowerment!

I also subscribed to Carrie’s ethos when it came to men. There was no such thing as a bad date — only a good date or a good brunch story. In my writing, I gave my boyfriends nicknames (one was “Prom King”) just like Carrie and her friends did.

I went out with a prince: Lorenzo Borghese from “The Bachelor.” I even dated the British ex-boyfriend of “Sex and the City” creator Candace Bushnell — the original Carrie. He was one of a few men who comprised the composite character Mr. Big.

A common feature among women who spent a decade sleeping around is their belief that anyone is in the slightest bit interested in their exploits. Seriously, does anyone care who she was shagging in New York a decade ago? She didn’t even manage to screw a household name.

Between 2004 and 2011, I filmed nine TV pilots — many of which were reality shows, and all of which were a derivation of some kind of “SATC” role for me. I was always the Carrie. In one pilot, I hosted for Animal Planet; the premise was that your dog would choose whom you’d go out with.

One can’t honestly say at this point that getting the dog’s input is a bad idea.

Their core complaint about me was that I was a quote-unquote “fame whore.”

I suspect many of your female contemporaries thought that description contained one word too many.

Finally, I cut my ties to New York and moved to San Francisco full-time in 2013. I tried being a tech columnist and writing a personal-growth book called “Experiments in Happiness.”

Which sits on my shelf beside Paul Gascoigne’s book “Experiments in Sobriety”.

These days I work as a change activist, mounting summits for world leaders and serving as an adviser to startups and entrepreneurs looking to better the planet.

So she’s found religion. Sadly she’s not locked herself away in a convent.

I’m finally living a life of integrity, and I’m attuned to my values. I never heard about values on “Sex and the City.”

Well, no.

I dated a woman for a while, a beautiful entrepreneur who was also jilted by New York — that’s definitely not something you saw Carrie do.

How edgy. No sign of mental disorder here at all, oh no.

But dating is not front and center in my life anymore, although it was all I talked about in my 20s. That’s pretty one-dimensional.

You think?

Last year, I ended a two-year relationship with a man who ultimately couldn’t commit and wanted to be polyamorous.

Heh! I suspect he could commit, only not with someone who spent a decade shagging random men in New York in return for food and clothes. And why wait two years? Desperation much?

Again, “SATC” and the “lessons” it taught me is the culprit.

It wasn’t supposed to be a lifestyle manual. And as Daniel Ream often points out, the book was far more realistic in its portrayal of single life in New York than the TV series was, and ought to have served as a warning.

The show wasn’t a rubric on how to find a lifelong partnership.

You don’t say!

If I was more grounded and had honestly assessed whether this man was a good partner for me, I don’t think we ever would have dated.

So it’s the fault of a TV show which concluded in her early twenties that she dated an unsuitable man in her mid-thirties? For all the talk of female empowerment, a lot of these modern women don’t seem to have quite grasped the whole personal responsibility thing, have they? Nor do they seem to understand that the choices you make in your twenties stay with you for life.

Crushed and needing to regroup, I took a sabbatical and lived in Bali for eight months on a healing journey.

Heh.

I was also celibate during my time there.

Much to the disappointment of knuckle-dragging Australian youths in beer singlets.

I do wonder what my life would have looked like if “Sex and the City” had never come across my consciousness.

I don’t know, but I’m confident if you got lost in the Arctic wilderness you’d blame Ice Road Truckers.

Perhaps I’d be married with children now?

Given your appalling judgement, immaturity, and lack of impulse control I’d say that’s highly unlikely.

Who knows, but I can say for sure that, as clever and aesthetically pleasing as the show was — and, as much as I agree with its value of female friendships — it showed too much consumerism and fear of intimacy disguised as empowerment.

Modern feminism is rather good at disguising all manner of vices and self-destructive behaviour as empowerment.

Whom you’re dating, what you’re wearing, or how good you look at that premiere — none of that s–t matters unless you genuinely love yourself. Solid relationships are what really matter.

Who knew?

Truth be told, I wish I had never heard of “SATC.” I’m sure there are worse role models but, for me, it did permanent and measurable damage to my psyche that I’m still cleaning up.

As useful a description of the effects of modern feminism as you’re likely to find.

Two months ago, I started seeing someone I never would have dated 10 years earlier.

A whole two months? How long to you think she can hide the disgust?

Back then, I wasn’t looking to get married or seek a lifelong partner, and that was a mistake. This man is a very reasonable choice, and I’m at a place in my life where reasonable is very sexy.

Two. Months.

Now, I feel like genuine me — I’m no longer a Carrie Bradshaw knockoff.

No, you’re now Samantha. Congratulations!

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