Feminism Thread

[Churchill]

Yes, re-evaluate my dick and shut up.

[Lordender]

video games are entertainment where the plot doesn't necessarily matter. i feel like anita doesn't get that. Her "it still counts as point in my victimology" schtick is tiring. A lot of examples she points out actually go against her video until she waves her hands and says something like "cultural permission of sexism perpetuated"

She doesn't have to get it, feminists co-opt anything they can to cash grab. Feminists co-opted the skeptic community and formed "Atheism plus" with PZ-myers and Rebecca Watson. This whole thing is Anita's attempt to co-opt the gaming industry in the name of sexism/misogyny with her claims that video games are "a club for boys only" when that is far, far from the truth. I personally enjoy thunderf00t's pwnage of Anita over several of his fantastic videos.

[Ksandra]

Thought people would get a kick out of this.

Woman starts a blog to make 300 sandwiches for bf so he proposes:

http://nypost.com/2013/09/24/i-wooed...th-a-sandwich/

‘I’m 124 sandwiches away from an engagement ring’

Since last June, a young woman has attracted attention from culinary world icons such as Emeril Lagasse, Michael White and Ken Friedman with 300sandwiches.com, a beautifully photographed blog that documents her quest to woo her boyfriend with bread-and-meat creations. We now reveal that the woman behind the blog is our very own Page Six senior reporter, STEPHANIE SMITH. Here, she tells her story — and shares some recipes.

My boyfriend, Eric, is the gourmet cook in our relationship, but he’d always want me to make him a sandwich.

Each morning, he would ask, “Honey, how long you have been awake?”

“About 15 minutes,” I’d reply.

“You’ve been up for 15 minutes and you haven’t made me a sandwich?”

To him, sandwiches are like kisses or hugs. Or sex. “Sandwiches are love,” he says. “Especially when you make them. You can’t get a sandwich with love from the deli.”

One lazy summer afternoon just over a year ago, I finally gave in. I assembled turkey and Swiss on toasted wheat bread. I spread Dijon mustard generously on both bread slices, and I made sure the lettuce was perfectly in line with the neatly stacked turkey slices.

Eric devoured the sandwich as if it were a five-star meal, diving in with large, eager bites. “Babes, this is delicious!” he exclaimed.
Modal Trigger

Stephanie with her boyfriend, Eric Schulte.

As he finished that last bite, he made an unexpected declaration of how much he loved me and that sandwich: “Honey, you’re 300 sandwiches away from an engagement ring!”

I paused.

Was our happily ever after as simple as making him a few sandwiches?

Our relationship has always centered on food. We met at a restaurant in Chelsea two years ago when a friend I was dining with spotted an Alexander Skarsgård look-alike. An introduction was made, and I found out he’s a computer programmer, a Taurus (or as he says, “What’s that sign for people who don’t believe in astrology?”), obsessed with “Star Wars” and a very good cook.

On our second date, he cooked me dinner — tuna tartare and fresh scallops on a tomato compote. More delicious meals, nearly all of them cooked by him, followed, and soon we were dating seriously. The fact that he could make a perfect filet mignon, not just order one in a steakhouse, was a big turn-on.

A year ago, we moved in together to a sleek place in Brooklyn. We’ve met each other’s parents, traveled internationally without strangling each other and successfully hosted many a dinner party.

Visit NBCNews.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

Things were moving at a natural pace, but I wondered what it would take for him to propose. I’m in my mid-30s, and my parents have been happily married for more than 35 years. I have always valued the commitment and dedication it takes to get married and stay married. Call me old-fashioned, but I’d like to raise a family with someone who feels likewise.

Maybe I needed to show him I could cook to prove that I am wife material. If he wanted 300 sandwiches, I’d give him 300 sandwiches — and I’d blog about it.

I bought the 300sandwiches.com domain name and a Nikon DSLR. I perused tons of recipe sites and cookbooks for sandwich ideas. I asked friends for suggestions, but some, especially my single friends, were less than supportive of the idea.

“How ‘Stepford Wives’ of you!” said one single gal whose kitchen was used for shoe storage.

Another, a hard-working C-suite banking executive, also objected. “It’s not 1950!” she exclaimed. “It’s chauvinistic! He’s saying, ‘Cook for me, woman, and maybe I’ll make you my wife.’”

My own mother was doubtful. “Honey, can you even cook?” she asked.

“No, but I’ll learn!” I argued.
Modal Trigger

The “Substitute for Tomatoes” Turkey Pear Club Sandwich.

I started with the easy things. My second sandwich after the turkey and Swiss was a two-second ice-cream sandwich constructed from Anna’s ginger thin cookies and blackberry currant ice cream. My early thinking was quantity, not quality.

Ten sandwiches or so in, I did the math. Three sandwiches a week, times four weeks a month, times 12 months a year, meant I wouldn’t be done until I was deep into my 30s. How would I finish 300 sandwiches in time for us to get engaged, married and have babies before I exited my childbearing years?

My mother was the voice of reason. “Relationships are a marathon, not a sprint,” she said. “Take it one sandwich at a time.”

I made sandwiches for breakfast, lunch, dinner and dessert. I made sandwiches to get myself out of the doghouse — like No. 67, a scrambled egg, smoked salmon and chive creation that combined some of Eric’s favorite things to make up for my being 45 minutes late for dinner the night before.

Even after covering movie premieres or concerts for Page Six, I found myself stumbling into the kitchen to make Eric a sandwich while I still had on my high heels and party dress.

Making all of these sammies, I’ve learned how much Eric loves sharing cooking with me. He enjoys going to the grocery store with me, picking out ingredients and planning dinners. Though I still want to get engaged and get married and live happily ever after, I’ve also put less pressure on the race to the 300th sandwich and I’m enjoying the cooking experience with Eric.

Today, I’ve made and blogged about 176 sandwiches. Over the months, my creations have grown more complex — lobster rolls, bánh mìs, pulled pork. No matter what’s on the menu, Eric smiles and says thank you. He’s just happy I cook for him at all.

“You women read all these magazines to get advice on how to keep a man, and it’s so easy,” he says. “We’re not complex. Just do something nice for us. Like make a sandwich.”

Surprise, surprise. She gets a lot of backlash for it. e.g.:

http://www.slate.com/blogs/xx_factor...andwiches.html

Woman Trades 300 Sandwiches for a Diamond Ring



Some afternoons, I will be eating a delicious sandwich alone at my computer when the Internet will heave up a personal essay so poorly conceived and utterly vacuous that it threatens to compromise my ability to ever love again. But today, the Internet came for my sandwich.

“I’m 124 Sandwiches Away From an Engagement Ring” is the unfortunately true story of how New York Post Page Six senior reporter Stephanie Smith fell in love with a vampiric computer programmer who demanded that she make him a sandwich every day. (“You’ve been up for 15 minutes and you haven’t made me a sandwich?” he’d coo each morning when they awoke). Smith finally obliged, and the rest is … this bleak relationship-themed sandwich recipe blog-turned-New York Post essay. Writes Smith:

To him, sandwiches are like kisses or hugs. Or sex. “Sandwiches are love,” he says. “Especially when you make them. You can’t get a sandwich with love from the deli.”

One lazy summer afternoon just over a year ago, I finally gave in. I assembled turkey and Swiss on toasted wheat bread. I spread Dijon mustard generously on both bread slices, and I made sure the lettuce was perfectly in line with the neatly stacked turkey slices.

Eric devoured the sandwich as if it were a five-star meal, diving in with large, eager bites. “Babes, this is delicious!” he exclaimed.

As he finished that last bite, he made an unexpected declaration of how much he loved me and that sandwich: “Honey, you’re 300 sandwiches away from an engagement ring!”

I paused. … Maybe I needed to show him I could cook to prove that I am wife material. If he wanted 300 sandwiches, I’d give him 300 sandwiches — and I’d blog about it.

Not everyone understood.

I asked friends for suggestions, but some, especially my single friends, were less than supportive of the idea.

“How ‘Stepford Wives’ of you!” said one single gal whose kitchen was used for shoe storage.

Another, a hard-working C-suite banking executive, also objected. “It’s not 1950!” she exclaimed. “It’s chauvinistic! He’s saying, ‘Cook for me, woman, and maybe I’ll make you my wife.’

Is “I’m 124 Sandwiches Away From an Engagement Ring” a chauvinist exercise? Ha, ha. If only we had the luxury of grappling with such advanced questions here. No. We are in “plant or animal?” territory now. Is “I’m 124 Sandwiches Away From an Engagement Ring” even human? If I produce 300 widgets for him, he will award me a whatsit. I’ve only got 124 more widgets to go before the deal is finalized. Then, I will reproduce the details of the transaction in a coffee table book and start raking in the whosits. Beep boop beep boop beep! Sandwiches are love!

How do we make sense of love in the time of “I’m 124 Sandwiches Away From an Engagement Ring”? The traditional romantic structures that previously organized our physical and emotional connections to other people are crumbling fast. Nobody buys one another root beer floats anymore. Everybody’s touching everybody else before they marry anyone. There are no boyfriends here. In the face of all this romantic disruption, some lovers are frantically constructing new frameworks—diamond-fishing sandwich blogs, for example—in a desperate attempt to reduce our strange and wonderful human experiences into another rote mechanical exercise. Stop. Love each other. Eat sandwiches. Don’t trade either of them for anything.

Sandwiches: ruining love everywhere

[Ashmada]

I say, that is quite misogynistic, indeed!


Demeaning a woman just because she enjoys making sandwhiches for her future husband. Sexist Amanda Hess is sexist.

[Correction]

ksan only read the story because it was about 300 sandwiches.

[Drex]

no fun allowed

[Ksandra]

ksan only read the story because it was about 300 sandwiches.

even less, saw it on tv first

[Charismatic]

no fun allowed

Pretty much this.

[Qalbert]

oh i kept seeing stuff about 300 sandwiches and thought people were talking about my lunch order

[Churchill]

I'm with the people in the comments, that dude is gay.

[AoE]

I'm with the people in the comments, that dude is gay.

Chicks in NYC will do some weird shit for a shot at love.

[Churchill]

idc about the sandwiches, that's their job. that dude is gay though.

[Aristio]

I think it's okay to do something like that. Not sure what the male equivalent would be though? 300 pushups without rest sounds like something manageable.

[ronin sparthos]

I think it's okay to do something like that. Not sure what the male equivalent would be though? 300 pushups without rest sounds like something manageable.

Beating up 300 other guys to prove his worth.

[Ksandra]

I think it's okay to do something like that. Not sure what the male equivalent would be though? 300 pushups without rest sounds like something manageable.

deliver 300 bouquets of flowers kind of thing imo.

[AoE]

I think it's okay to do something like that. Not sure what the male equivalent would be though? 300 pushups without rest sounds like something manageable.

CS could do that easily but he's still single so I dunno.

[Brutala]

466 days from #1 to #177. She could've been done in under a month easy and he'd have to keep his word.

[Churchill]

I don't think she's in a real rush to become a beard.

[Churchill]

[archibaldcrane]

wat