In The Girl Who Fell Beneath Fairyland and Led the Revels There, a fantasy novel variously categorized as children’s or young adult– no, I’m not going to provide a link– writer Catherynne Valente launches a psychotically vicious attack on traditional marriage. Don’t worry, though; she’s not against all relationships: She also includes pro-homosexual propagandizing.
Soon after our heroine enters Fairyland, the poisonously hateful attack on marriage commences. It comes in the form of the Hreinn, creatures who if captured by hunters must do all their cooking, sewing, etc., for them, as well as bearing “the hunters’” children. This is not at all subtle in its bizarre feminist editorializing about traditional marriage being female slavery, ZOMG!!!! Yet the traditional marriage portrayed here has one massive element missing: The man.
What is he doing all day in this rad-fem scenario, while the Hreinn are forced to clean “his” house? Oh, right, working a 40-hour-a-week job to support himself and his wife. All this is completely absent from Valente’s portrayal. The Hreinn (housewives) bitch that they have to cook, but don’t discuss that the man is working to buy the food, or they wouldn’t have anything to cook! OR EAT. They kvetch about cleaning the house. Who is earning the money to pay for the house? Seriously, who is working to pay the mortgage to keep the rain off your brainless little head? In the insane feminist fantasyland, when men say they’re going to work, they’re really just drinking beer and having sex with supermodels while women are doing the housework.
Just in case you’ve ever wondered if feminists are actually as stupid and self-centered as they seem. Talk about “out of sight, out of mind”! If a feminazi can’t actually see you doing the work, it literally doesn’t occur to her that you might be doing work! There seems to be nothing in their heads except for the impressions created by immediate sense data.
“I’m here, vacuuming the rug, and he’s not! Bastard!”
“What do you think he’s doing right now?”
“I don’t know. Never thought about it!”
“Where do you get the clothes you complain about laundering?”
“What do you mean, where do I get them? They come from my closet, duh!”
This is immediately followed by an ethereal “Three cheers for lesbians!” Valente includes a lesbian couple and works in that the poor dears are oppressed. This is because… wait for it… people “look at them askance.” Oh my God! Call Amnesty International! (The funny thing is that since this is fiction, she could have had them getting lynched or whatever. But no, being looked at askance is oppression in this whacko’s worldview.)
The surreal pro-homosexual propaganda continues in a later chapter, where we get underground mining kangaroos, one of which has a gay lover. This is established somewhat elliptically, but that’s the best we can say of it. First, the kangaroo, a male, says of another kangaroo, “he broke my heart.” Now this by itself is ambiguous, but there’s more. The two kangas shared a stone and a few sentences later it is remarked that that kind of stone is for lovers. Oh, barf. What kind of sicko attacks man-woman marriage and feels a need to get in three cheers for gay animal sex?
In a children’s book?! How sick do you have to be to write that?
Must we have stumping for gay sex in a children’s book? Would a reasonable, non-ideological person say that’s the best decision? Is it okay to have just… stories? Just stories that don’t leap up and scream politics in your face?
The Left’s usual party line in this kind of context is, “But they show heterosexual lovers and spouses all the time in children’s books! That’s just as propagandistic!” No it isn’t! Portraying everyday normality, and portraying it as everyday normality, is not propagandistic. Getting up and whacking people upside the head with your special-interest political agenda is. “But…but… in your preferred approach, heterosexual relationships are portrayed as normal!” Yes, because heterosexual relationships are normal, you morons!
Gotta love that “portrayed,” by the way.
“Portraying” the sky as blue is not propagandistic. Portraying the sky as an orange background, with the first-string roster of the 1982 Hartford Whalers written across it in flaming green letters, is propagandistic. That’s because the second one is not true, you fucking psychos!
The thing about the gay sex element is, it isn’t about reproduction, even implicitly, since gay sex is not reproductive. Therefore, what we have here is the portrayal of pure sex, sex for its own sake. In a heterosexual relationship, it is all about reproduction, even if only obliquely, because that’s the entire evolutionary reason that sex exists. So even if your young child asks you questions about a man-woman marriage that force you to discuss the sex, you can mention genital intercourse and segue to having kids. I.e., the sex isn’t just about the sex. Do I actually have to say that sex for the sake of sex is inappropriate in a children’s story? Sex for the sake of sex is pornography. Literally, that’s the definition of pornography. I’m all for porn in its place, but in a children’s story?
What exactly are you going to tell your kid if s/he asks about specifics of these gay lovers? What are these gay kangas doing that makes them lovers, as opposed to friends? Well, they’re either sucking each other’s penises, having anal sex, or giving each other handjobs, or I guess, pawjobs. Or all three. There is nothing here about a reproductive sexual act that has some raison d’etre outside itself. No, there is just a couple of male kangaroos fucking each other in the ass.
In a novel intended for children.
So Catherine Valente is so evil and insane, so damaged, that she spews hate propaganda about man-woman marriage… but presents her ideal fantasy land announcing, “I have seen the future, and it is ass-ramming kangaroos.”
Look, people, I don’t mind adult male kangaroos sodomizing each other, in the privacy of their own San Francisco apartment, if that’s what they want to do. It just has no place in a children’s novel.
In 2016 the Left themselves rejected the short story Space Raptor Butt Invasion for a Hugo Award, apparently on the grounds that it wasn’t really a serious nominee for a Hugo. But we’re supposed to keep a solemn expression on our faces and nod profoundly as we contemplate the loving eroticism of kangaroos sixty-nining. People, Space Raptor Butt Invasion was a joke. And it wasn’t offered to children. Ass-ramming gay kangas is presented as serious, and material for children.
Grok this: The Left is not a political movement. It is sheer evil and insanity that has masked itself as a political movement for strategic reasons.
To put it another way, it is the political arm of insanity. The Left is like Hannibal Lechter in that scene from The Silence of the Lambs in which Lechter carves off the dead cop’s face and places it over his own face as a disguise. The Left is not “political” as healthy, sane people understand the word “political.” It is pure evil in political guise.
The Left gave up its last tiny shreds of sanity years ago. It’s now on the descent into the combination asylum and torture chamber that is Hell. And its goal is to drag everyone else there – including your kids – with it.