The Clam Rampant

Kasia July 10th, 2007

I don’t have much patience with the “equality for its own sake” mentality. As the Catechism says, equality before the Lord does not mean sameness.

Men cannot, for example, be wet nurses. Or do you remember the scene in Monty Python’s Life of Brian where the Judean People’s Front is at the gladiator match and Stan tells them he wants to be called Loretta, because he wants to have babies? John Cleese is brilliant in that scene…”I’m not oppressing you, Stan, you haven’t got a womb! Where’s the fetus going to gestate? You going to keep it in a box?!”…but anyway. Judith comes up with the supreme compromise that Stan/Loretta “…cannot actually HAVE babies, not having a womb, which is no one’s fault, not even the Romans’ – but he can have the RIGHT to have babies.” Or as George Carlin once said “They want me to call that thing in the street a personhole cover. Show me a woman who works down there!”

Anyway. Apparently now there is some sort of student movement in Pamplona demanding a separate run for women, with cows instead of bulls. (Check out the story here if you don’t believe me. I couldn’t make that up.)

Look. The run with the bulls is kind of silly in my book to begin with. I don’t get it. It’s like the forerunner of “extreme” sports, which I also don’t get, and I think Jim Davis summed it up when he (through Garfield), looking for a topic to write a book about, thought he might run with the bulls in Pamplona. Then he’d write a book titled “The Stupidest Thing I’ve Ever Done.” But hey – it’s probably a testosterone thing, and I, as a cootie-infested, estrogen-riddled, chick-flick-watching double-X chromosome just don’t get it. That’s ok – I’ll just put on Sleepless in Seattle or something. Maybe Jim Davis will come over and watch it with me. We’ll make lasagna.

So first off, I can’t say I understand why women would want to do it, except perhaps to be able to say they did. And the article does specify that, while women are now allowed to participate in the run, there are precious few who choose to. But for those who do, hey – different strokes for different folks. It’s no skin off my udder if you want to run with the bulls. If you land in the hospital, I’ll say a prayer for you. Godspeed, sister.

But for some reason that completely eludes me, some group of equality-for-its-own-sakers want to have a SEPARATE run. With COWS.

Maybe I need some Sangria to understand?

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