Columns » Bob Lancaster

Sluts galore



Eve was the first slut, according to the blowhard EIB gospel. Adam was more an innocent bystander who got lured into it, because it really is hard to resist and not for long is self-control a match for concupiscence. Her sluttery got them thrown out of paradise, and all the problems we have today can be traced back to that 6,000-years-ago trauma — the deficit, unemployment, Obamacare, climate change, toxic loans, impiousness, obesity, addiction, testicular shrinkage from steroid abuse.

Samson was a good early example of how yielding to sluttery can lay you low. Melt your eyeballs and literally bring the house down on you. His slut's name was Delilah, which means "nasty" in the original Philistine.

Ol' Bathsheba  ("slut who needs to hit the shower") gave her a sluttish run for the money, however.

Jezebel was a slut, of course. Her name in the ancient tongue meant "without co-habitation" or "Where is the Prince?" which are sort of roundabout ways of saying slut.

Ruth and Naomi were sluts but kept it well hid, like Roselyn and her mother-in-law Lillian of a later time.

Helen of Troy was — presumably still is — the highest ranking member of the Slut Pantheon. Even higher than the slut with the snake torso and snakes for hair — slut imagery harking back to the phallic Tempter that beslutted Eve out in the garden that time.

Cleopatra's purple yacht was also just a metaphor for slut.

Remember the scene from Tacitus when the emperor Claudius' wife Val got into an all-night sluttery contest with imperial Rome's most famous harlot — and won! The sore loser concluding that the empress's insides must've been made out of old shoe leather.

Ah, those were the days — when men were men and sluts all had pencil-sharpeners that before you could get the Land ob Cotton phrase in "Dixie" whistled could grind down a proud No. 2 to one of those dinky stubs you keep your golf score with.

The Virgin Mary — all right, but even conceding that, how explain the J.C. siblings except as slutty afterfruit?

Or I guess they'd be his half-siblings.

Joan of Arc was a slut, albeit hers was a monumental waste, exuded away in a kind of spiritual ecstasy that did nobody else any good.

"Witchcraft" was just another name for the sluttishness that nubile slut/witches ("slitches"?) were hanged for in olde Massachusetts, gibbeted and maimed for sport by the blowhards of their time, the dour wigged tightasses citing Exodus 22:18 and Deuteronomy 25:11-12 as enabling authority for this godawful manner of getting long-dry and lonesome appendages off.

If not Pocahontas, Abigail Adams is the first name on the blowhard list of  notable American sluts. She won the distinction not for her willingness, eagerness even, to put out, or to keep that fetching possibility ever adangle, which is the slut forte, but for her unwillingness to meantime do what Archie Bunker would later call stifling.

Stifling in this context means hauling up when your mind starts to wander above your genito-urinary tract, into the scrubbed air of higher ratiocination where only pricks are allowed to mull birth-control policy. Sluts who intrude there are every one of them seen as Paula Jones. Not as a Paula Jones type. As PJ her very own trailer-musty gum-smacking self.

Hard to imagine Emily Dickinson as a slut but I guess she was, at least in the blowlard EIB view of sluts run amok. Indira Gandhi. Mother Teresa. Bee Taylor. Golda Meir. Grandma Moses. Amelia Earhart. Sluts one and all, hardly distinguishable one from the other.

In this big fat idiot view, half the race are sluts and it's the task of the other half to not let them forget it. Afflict them with penis envy. Always the aspirin between the knees. Abstinence-only them till Hell Fire dries up all the mucosae. Cagney a grapefruit half in the puss as needed. Imus them in the collective as nappy-headed ho's. Catholicize them into duggary or Mormonize them into the seraglio maze; Southern Baptist them into eventual submission under an inevitable teeny weenie who morphs forth as the Mammoth Cod in his Mitty fancies during drawn-out altar calls.

It might be more than half the race that you're sluttifying if you agreed to include on your blowhard list a sampler of specially deserving Friends of Dorothy, and you might ordinarily consider doing that, despite the pudendal quality or suggestion that squishes up the hateful s-word in the customary blowhard usage. But the current contretemps excludes men categorically, not out of misterogyny, but because it's essentially a stupid dust-up over the alleged promiscuous effect on the culture from the easy availability of effective oral contraceptives.

It's not right that men are only bit players in the birth-control operetta but it's a fact. They don't lay ova, the slut's first and defining task. So only women can be sluts, and in the so-called thinking of Rush Limbaugh and his kidney, all of them are.

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