Feminist Tropes vs Monty Python’s Flying Circus

Bit by bit, feminists seem to be waking up to the fact that without the support of men, their efforts to maintain their supremacy over those same men are doomed. A few of them, in their own feeble and febrile ways, are even, sort of, kinda, reaching out to men in general and M(H)RAs in particular.

So, in the hope of finding a common dialogue, I ventured out of my usual research haunts to see what issues are burning hot in the feminist world, and sure enough, they are sort of, kinda, silly: whereas men want to see our children, feminists want to ban Jello (jelly) wrestling. Whereas men want see reductions in the harmful effects of hypergamy, feminists want to ban Page 3 Girls, because God knows what will happen if we fail to demonize normal male sexual desire, and scantily dressed women who enjoy that desire.

Sometimes, in the face of feminist anger and anxiety against men, you’ve just got to back off and laugh in order to keep your sanity. The cool part about that is that humorless feminists cannot follow you since the silliness of their concerns doesn’t translate well into manspeak.

So, I figured, perhaps we should sort of, kinda, reach back to feminists and adopt a silliness of thought in order to try to create a common language of communication – screaming at each other isn’t cutting it, so maybe in silliness we can find common ground. The venerable Monty Python’s Flying Circus put a silly spin on gender relations years before the arrival of second wave feminism, so here is my first crude attempt to engage feminism with metaphors and examples that they can understand.

The Fish Slap Dance

Let’s dive right in, shall we?

Type “fish slap” into Google and the iconic, hilarious sketch pops right into view. What might not be obvious to newcomers to the MHRM are the undertones of domestic violence clearly displayed: after a series of weak but annoying fish-slap provocations from the smaller and sillier of the two performers, the larger, stoic performer retaliates in grand fashion.

The performers, John Cleese and Michael Palin, likely hugged and laughed their asses off after this brief sketch, which has been copied and reiterated many times, including a Swedish version where an old woman continues the chain of “violence”:

But through the lens of feminism we can imagine a much grimmer, grimier outcome – the earlier provocations are ignored and the final definitive fish slap becomes an abusive act towards women. An arrest of the male “aggressor” (who was defending himself), protective orders, divorce, and loss of child custody rapidly ensue. In the feminist world, the small slaps continue indefinitely and the larger man is just supposed to take those assaults silently, and never counter them – even walking away would be characterized as abusive and childish, since the man would be rejecting the woman’s weak attempts to use violence to bargain with patriarchy.

And yet, in less than 20 seconds, the video lays waste to the idiotic feminist trope that violence against women occurs unprovoked.

The Dead Parrot

The abdication of responsibility, and the shifting of agency onto men, is a hallmark of female/feminist strategy. An illustration of these themes can be found in the famed Dead Parrot sketch , which begins with the customer (played again by John Cleese) referring to the clerk (again, Michael Palin) as “Miss” instead of “Sir” – alerting us that even though the clerk is male, the behaviour being mocked is feminine.

Here’s the sketch, in all its horrible, hilarious glory:

Here is a list of twenty of the clerk’s (and other’s) denials, evasions, and other refusals of responsibilities:

  • No, No, it’s resting, LOOK!
  • No, it’s not dead, it’s resting.
  • Remarkable bird, the Norwegian Blue. Beautiful plumage.
  • No, No, it’s resting.
  • [Shoves cage] There! It moved!
  • I did not [push the cage]!
  • No, no, it’s stunned!
  • It’s gotta be pining for the fjords.
  • The Norwegian Blue preferred keeping on its back.
  • Of course it was nailed [to the perch] or else it would’ve muscled up to those bars and BOOM.
  • It’s not, it’s pining.
  • Well, I’d better replace it, then…sorry, Gov, we’re right out of parrots.
  • I’ve got a slug.
  • If you go to my brother’s pet shop in Bolton, he’ll replace your parrot for you.
  • I don’t have to do this, you know. I’m a qualified brain surgeon.
  • It was a pun.
  • No, not a pun, it was that other thing that reads the same, backwards and forwards.
  • So, what do you want?
  • [Finally, a policeman intervenes…]
  • And now, frontal nudity.

Notice that when the clerk’s own evasions fail, then family members, outsiders, and finally, the police and the media are brought to bear upon the defrauded dead parrot owner Cleese, who never finds satisfaction in his quest to right a wrong. He is disposed of as casually as feminists have always disposed of men they find troublesome – hell, this sketch could have been used as a training video for them except for the fact that their crude and cruel methods are being exposed for all the world to see.

The Marriage Counselor

Hypergamy, anyone? Combine that with blue pill disposability, and the you get the Marriage Counselor sketch, with the superb bombshell Carol Cleveland joining Palin and Eric Idle:

The hapless husband Arthur is oblivious to the betrayals of his wife and his counselor – his trust in them, and openness with his feelings has become so pathetic that the coupling of Counselor and Deirdre becomes inevitable. Notice that as Deirdre disrobes behind the screen, the amount of clothing she removes vastly exceeds the amount of clothing she was actually wearing – women of that era must have taken to carrying extra garments around in case a feminist jumped out of the bushes and screamed “burn your bra!”

Deirdre’s panties (knickers) initially appear to be white (0:09), but are black when removed (2:34), indicating that her innocent status as wife was a ruse from the beginning.

Arthur becomes complicit in his wife’s infidelities when he departs the room, only to be confronted by a Traditionalist telling him to Man Up. Unfortunately, his resolve fails him yet again, and he meets a gruesome death by giant cock.

The Funniest Joke

Well, feminists, what do you think – can we talk, or must this silliness continue?

Because more and more, it seems to me, that feminism has become the deadliest joke the world has ever known.

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