Thanks to Jill Filipovic for drawing my attention to this article by Spencer Morgan in the NY Observer, an article demonstrating that the Observer and Morgan intend to be on the “misogynist for the sheer joy of hating women” beat. Morgan asks an earth-shattering question of profound importance as well as mystery: Why is it that he sees people—-okay, women—-occasionally crying in public? And when people see this, why don’t they stop to talk to the crying women, to offer help?
The answer to thess questions, from a non-misogynist perspective, in order: Probably because they’re sad. And because others realize that the crying woman probably would like not to be crying in public, and would like to be accorded the respect and privacy her sadness deserves.
But these answers are insufficient for Morgan, because these answers imply what he simply will not accept, which is that women are discrete individuals with private lives and subjective experiences, whereas Morgan clearly sees women, especially young fuckable things, as public property whose behavior is completely performance for others. I’m sure he thinks women go home and just power down like a computer deprived of its electricity, except in this case our electricity is attention. And since sadness, like all female behavior, is a ploy for attention, it pisses Morgan off because it’s not the performance he wants from women. So he’s going to make fun of the sad women and bully them into performing behaviors he finds sexier, presumably non-stop grinning.
Ms. Kreamer’s research helps illuminate a prevalent strain of gushers who cheapen the tears of others and represent a nuisance to the population as a whole: Call them the town criers.
They come in different forms. There is the woe-is-me hobble, the I-don’t-give-a-damn stomp, the die-a-little-every-day shuffle—which is ideal for the young lady who needs to get in and out of Whole Foods in 20 minutes, tops, and wants to keep a good trickle going. You might find yourself in the wake of a sobber or screamer or—God help you—a shrieker.
“It’s almost like an act of defiance,” said one female colleague who’s cried on the sidewalk more times than she can count, once, after gazing into the tortured eyes of a carriage horse, from Time Square all the way down to the East Village. “You’re almost daring people to stop you and you sort of know no one will.”
“There’s something cinematic about it, when you’re walking in New York.”
Yes, of course! Women cry simply to manipulate, right? Because women do everything to manipulate, though of course that’s a good thing when they’re manipulating a hard-on into existence. This entire idea that crying is nothing but a ploy for attention from manipulative bitches really makes it unclear why Morgan then guilts the public for not offering that attention.