The Chick Was In the Way




W

elcome
to Hotel Satire, people…and you gals. Hotel Satire is a place
where gals learn to be the domestic appendages they were born to
be. 


The
hot topic for our husbands this month  has been the U.S. victory
against evil and the ever important question: will the war and its
aftermath affect our stock investments? 


According
to the business magazine

Fast Company

there is much disagreement
about this. The magazine looks at the last four major military conflicts
to help us sort out this matter: 


  • one year after
    1991’s Operation Desert Storm was declared a success the
    Dow had gone up 13.4 percent (from 2,882.20 to 3,269.50) 

  • after “evacuating
    Saigon” and thereby ending “the country’s presence
    in Vietnam, the Dow went up 21.0 percent (from 821.30 to 996.90) 

  • at the end of
    the three-year Korean War, the Dow went up 25 percent; after V-E
    day, it went up 21.3 percent. 


While
our husbands pondered the larger question of how death and destruction
can help increase profits, the gals at the Hotel have been concerned
about the other main question: how will the war affect our role
as domestic appen- dages? The trickle down effect of gals actually
fighting for their country, leaving their homes and families, trying
to become independent actors on the world stage instead of living
through their men has already begun.  


How
do we know this? Because of Annika Sorenstam, the top gal player
on the gals’ tour. She was invited to play in a real golf tournament,
i.e., on the men’s tour, and she accepted. 


Now,
if she had accepted in order to find a nice golfing husband for
herself, that would be okay, although somewhat improper. If she
was there to sell shampoo or diet drugs or makeup and was going
to wear a perky outfit, while showing tasteful cleavage and bumbling
around the golf course murmuring inanities, that would be okay too.
But she’s not. She’s playing with the men “TO TEST
HERSELF.” 


Can
you believe it? This gal is more threatening to civilization than
Saddam (first names only, please, for evil people). 


Some
of the men have bravely spoken out against this dreadful turn of
events—Annika would be the first woman to play on the men’s
tour since 1945. Said Vijah Singh, winner of two tournaments, “I
hope she misses the cut. Why? She doesn’t belong out here.
If I’m drawn with her, which I won’t be, I won’t
play. What is she going to prove by playing? It’s ridiculous….
She’s taking a spot from someone in the field.” 


Well,
kudos to Vijay. But he misses the point. It’s not about whether
she belongs or what she proves or whether she could beat some of
the men (gals have been trained, since forever, to never beat a
guy at anything, even Patchesi), it’s about whether this is
proper galness—as determined by the gender assignments, locked
in thousands of years ago on the grasslands of Africa, and reaffirmed
in the Bible, as interpreted by those close to God, i.e., George
Bush, and company. 


The
Satire gals have written Annika a terse letter to that effect, saying,
“Annika, honey, stop it. You are a gal. There can be no swinging
a club at a ball while men are in the vicinity—or at any other
time, for that matter. Unless it is to pass the time with golfing
gal- friends, while waiting for your man to return for servicing.
In that case, always discuss shopping, feminine hygiene, how best
to service the males in your life, including the pet gerbil. 


“Also,
Annika, there can be no TESTING YOURSELF. Gals were put on this
earth as decorative amusement parks for the male of the species.
 Get yourself a makeover and take the Hotel Satire course in
how to lie around on a beach towel, ready to serve the barbecued
chicken and potato salad or applaud your man’s efforts on the golf
course.” 


It
is because of this harpy gal, Annika, that the Satire gals have
issued their own version of the Patriot Act—known affectionately
at Hotel Satire as the Going Hitler One Better Act (GHOBA). It was
inspired by an incident during Operation Free The Iraqi’s From
Our Former Ally, Saddam & Restore Democracy By Making It a U.S.
Possession. 


According
to a March 29

New York Times

article by Dexter Filkins (“Either
Take a Shot Or Take a Chance”), a U.S. sergeant accidently
killed a civilian woman who was standing near an Iraqi soldier.
The U.S. soldier apologized for killing the woman, saying, “I’m
sorry, but the chick was in the way.” 


Excuse
us for a moment. Just typing that word “chick” makes us
misty eyed. There’s nothing like being reduced to a domestic farm
animal to stir a gal’s patriotic feelings. Not to mention the heroism
of the soldier doing what all men have been contemplating since
the advent of the dreaded “women’s movement;” that
is, any chick who gets in the way of a man’s right to kill and maim—
or whatever—is TOAST. 


The
gals at the Satire Hotel feel that “the chick was in the way”
statement pretty much defines what’s been wrong in the world
for a long time now. That’s why we’ve created the Chick Was
In The Way Act (CWIWA; pronounced chihuahua). This act defines the
essence of galness, as mentioned above, and declares that all incidents
of chicks being in the way will be punishable by fine or imprisonment
without due process, depending on the severity of the infringement.
Annika, for instance, would get life (or longer) without parole.
Plus a lifetime supply of cosmetics so she can look good, not to
mention feminine, while serving time. For those of you who
are confused about how to avoid being in the way, we provide examples.
First, as pictured here, any gal who, in the midst of a SARS epidemic,
still concerns herself with makeup issues, including how to apply
rouge around the SARS mask, is the height of chickism. Gals, no
matter how bad it gets, make sure your eyebrows are drawn correctly. 


The
gal (pictured here as well) who bravely dons a wedding dress in
the midst of war, to happily skip to her wedding through the wreak-
age, seemingly unconcerned about having no electricity, no apartment,
and no water, is the very essence of chickness. Annika could learn
a lesson or three from this gal. Instead of TESTING HERSELF, she
should be ATTACHING HERSELF (true, Annika’s got a husband, but no
matter). 


As
far as gals being in the military, the rule here is the same as
it is for golf: there can be no gals waving guns around in the midst
of large groups of men, much less bombing and strafing. Military
chicks may help men do the fighting by being secretaries or nurses
or by whipping up the meat loaf and mashed potatoes, while posing
with breasts popping out. 


According
to

Fast Company

magazine, the U.S. soldiers stationed in
the Middle East will be receiving 15,000 free copies of “lads
magazines” from Dennis Publishing. Also Time Inc is sending
copies of

Sports Illustrat


ed

(swimsuit issue, for
sure), and Playboy says it’s “offering servicemen [not
service-gals, please note] an email address where they can sign
up to receive (non-nude) pictures and messages from Playmates.” 


Isn’t
that beautiful? We’re feeling patriotic again at the thought of
our troops (men only, please) killing while getting off on gals’
accoutrements, something that helps them be better soldiers, as
we all know. 


Another
lesson for those confused about whether they may be violating CWIWA
can be found in the continuing debate over the role of “First
Ladies” and “Politicians’ Wives.” A recent

New
York Times

article, “Speaking Her Mind, Using Her Checkbook,”
discusses Teresa Heinz Kerry—wife of presidential candidate
John Kerry—and whether she will help his campaign (as in Pat
Nixon) or hurt his campaign (as in Hillary Clinton). Teresa was
asked her opinion of Richard M. Nixon’s statement in 1992,
referring to Hillary, “If the wife comes through as being too
strong and too intelligent, it makes the husband look like a wimp,”
Ms. Kerry fired back (egad, spontaneously), “Well, we all know
Richard Nixon wasn’t too much in contact with how women should
be.” Since this incident, according to the article, Teresa
has been kept under close watch, with aides monitoring her interviews,
lest she dare to speak her mind again.  But, under the Chick
Act, she would be in jail, where she could learn how to obsess about
her weight and her crotch odor, as is proper for gals/chicks. Speaking
one’s mind and using one’s checkbook are prime examples
of gals being in the way and are categorized as felonies (not to
mention unpatriotic); in fact, just thinking about doing those two
things is punishable by death or, better yet, a boatload of cosmetics
delivered to her prison cell, along with a personal trainer to teach
her how to be the selfless passive twit that gals are, by nature,
born to be. 


For
those of you concerned about the recent spate of gals in action
movies who appear to be participating—rather than standing
around helplessly screaming, as the hero pummels the bad guy—should
take heart. As long as gals look sexy while pummeling, they will
not be slapped with a fine or prison term. Witness the Charlie’s
Angels as they straddle car engines and hose each other down. These
gals are clearly not in the way, they’re just being sexy soufflés
ready to be served up and consumed by men. 


Another
fine example, in the quest for proper chickivity, can be found in
a recent incident (reported in the

Boston Globe

, May 14)
of a dedicated “baseball” mom who beat up and bloodied
an 11- year-old kid because he cheered for the opposing team at
her son’s baseball game. Under CWIWA, not only would this mom-gal
get an award for her ability to live selflessly through the male
of the species, she would be put in charge of adminstering CWIWA.
Why waste precious resources with long prison sentences, and other
punishments, when you can beat gals senseless (or shoot them) as
the violations are happening? Then, like our brave American soldier,
we can murmur, “Sorry, but the chick was in the way.” 







 





Lydia Sargent
is co-founder/staff of



Z

. Thanks to Steve Shalom’s
ZNet article for the “chick was in the way” quote from the

New York Times