READER ADVISORY: this column quotes from a disturbed reader and contains some of the language typically employed by leftist intellectuals to express disagreement.

In my last column I suggested that one of the dangers of giving women the vote was that women would rely on themselves to make decisions. Among the dangers facing women are presidential candidates who suggest having “conversations” in response to the call for worldwide jihad. This woman, husband of former President Bill Clinton, went on a program geared towards progressive women, called “The View,” and hosted by what progressive women view as a male authority figure: Rosie O’Donnell.

I apparently hurt a lot of feelings.

Feelings in the form of explosive rage became apparent from letters, comments, and blogs. The following opening of an e-mail, with no salutation, is typical:

“And when you were done writing this article you scratched your balls and said ‘It is good.’”

This is what greeted me on Christmas Eve morning.

I did not know that I would cause so much anguish, for this letter writer continued, “It makes my stomach churn to hear a woman talk this way.”

There are many ellipses—apparently from a finger stuck on the keyboard in catatonia. The letter writer claims that I contradict myself:

“First you say this is what happens when there are no men around to run herd over us silly women and then you seems [sic] to be saying we women should all strive to be like men. You don’t seem to understand that its [sic] these twisted Conservative/Fundy marriages with their fixed gender rolls [sic] that have women stuck at home to watch the View in the first place, probably as they wash down some Xanax with cheap Chardonay [sic] at 11 AM.”

I’ll have to try those gender rolls some time; I’m getting tired of Kroger brown ‘n serve.

This letter-writer, obviously an A student in Women’s Studies 101, then put her own powers of feminist Freudian analysis on me:

“I think you are scared of your own breasts.”

Actually, the breasts I’m scared of are the artificially enhanced ones that pop out of Victoria’s Secret Infinity Edge Push-Up bras and that can be used like Caterpillar wheel dozers by “assertive” and “strong” English department heads to push around adjuncts like me. I was also scared of the pointy ones that Madonna had in her early shows. However, one dare not criticize the use of such weapons for these are examples of how women can “choose” to do what they want with their bodies.

The poor dear continues:

“And by the way, categorizing yourself as ‘not a typical woman’ so that you can set yourself apart to criticize other women is so lame. No matter how you try you’ll never actually be a man and no matter that men may be agreeing with you that ‘those silly women really do need looking after’, they are not impressed by you or do they really give a s*** what you think. . . . . after all YOU ARE A WOMAN!!!”

Other online armchair psychoanalysts said I wanted a penis. I was called names that I won’t repeat. Some, who have wept tears for imprisoned terrorists, suggested forms of torture for me. Many readers assumed I had a husband who vetted the column before it was published. Continued...