I'll be the first to admit that Saturday Night Live is a totally hit or miss show these days. There are definitely some skits that cause me to cramp up from laughing so hard, while others leave me bored. I get it - it takes a lot to put on a live, hour-and-a-half variety show every week, and not every joke will be a zinger. And while I don't expect every second to make me laugh, I also don't expect there to be parts of the show that will make me cringe and rage.
This past Saturday night started off promising. Then it turned transphobic.
The most frustrating about New York Times columnist Ginia Bellafante's Sunday column, "After Hurricane, a New Calling for Mothers" is not that it's sexist. It's that she so easily could have avoided being sexist. People? Volunteering to help other people, because they have the time and resources to do so? Great! Newsworthy! Heart-warming! But Bellafante (and her editors, who deserve honorary Decrees) decided it was critical to their journalistic project to insult and exclude fathers. To say nothing (literally, never mentioned) of alternative parents of any kind. Twice nominated, once victorious: This Decree's for you, Ginia.
Before each Super Bowl, we see media obsess over two things: commercials and halftime performances. And this year was no different, especially with her majesty Beyonce giving what was arguably the best halftime show in the history of the human race.
"The Prom" presents us with the underdog who never gets the girl. But luckily, privileged enough to have access to a new, shiny Audi! He drives it to Prom, parks in the Principal's parking spot (because being "the man" means you have access to everything) and walks straight up to the Prom Queen on the dance floor. Without even a word of consent, he jabs his tongue down her throat.
The commercial ends with him leaving with a black-eye from the Prom King, but smiling, obviously proud of what just happened.
So in summary: if you buy an Audi, feel free start making out with her, no consent necessary, consequences be damned! Now that's romance.
Over the past four years, the Douchebag Decree has become one of the most popular features on the Bitch blogs. Not because Bitch readers love douching—we know you don't!—but because smart, savvy, feminist Bitch readers want to know when someone in the media steps out of line. Whether it's signing a petition to stop the exploitation of girls or boycotting yet another "Just for Men" product, our weekly Douchebag Decrees let readers know what to avoid and what actions to take to push back. And let's just admit it—calling a douche a douche can be kinda therapeutic (and fun, too).
Every once in a while, the stars align and we bestow Ye Olde Decree—named for a feminine hygiene product—on an actual feminine hygiene product. Today is one of those star-aligning days: Meet this week's Decreed Douchebag, Damiva.
In advance of the parade, Macy's been receiving attention for more than the promise of giant floats and huge crowds. It turns out that the public opinion of Macy's spokesman and erstwhile racist conspiracy theorist Donald Trump leaves much to be desired. Signon.org has created a petition urging Macy's President and CEO to "Dump the Trump," as he fails to represent the "magic of Macy's."
My what a douche-y week! In desperate times like these, we feminists have only one option.... A douche-off! In one corner, we have Ann "R-word tweeter" Coulter, an awful person if there ever was one. In the other corner we have Richard "God intended rape pregnancies" Mourdock, who is also terrible. Two douches enter, one douche leaves!