The Mother of All Queen Bees
Roger takes aim at Phyllis Schlafly, who continues to exist as some sort of Old Testament pestilence on the planet. This time she argues that the Final Report of the Child Custody and Visitation Focus Group of the National Council of Juvenile and Family Court Judges represents a feminist conspiracy to banish fathers from the lives of their children:
Phyllis Schlafly proves that women are liars … by making shit up:
The “game” is that mothers can assert falsehoods or trivial marital complaints and thereby get sole custody orders that deprive children of their fathers. This “game” is based on the presumption, popularized by VAWA and the domestic-violence lobby, that fathers are inherently guilty and dangerous.
Of course, mothers can lie to get sole custody of children just as fathers can lie to deny mothers’ attempts to get sole custody, or to get joint custody, or to get sole custody themselves. Schlafly doesn’t cite any law which presumes that fathers are guilty or dangerous or unfit parents.
If Schlafly has any proof of any of her claims, she doesn’t cite it. She doesn’t even cite anecdotal evidence. But she’s not about to let the absence of facts get in the way of her deranged hatred of women in general and feminists in particular.
One of the most illustrative ideas in feminist theory is the notion of the Queen Bee syndrome, describing women who have no compunction about kicking other women to the curb in order to advance themselves. In some ways it is similar to the idea of an “Uncle Tom,” except in the Stowe novel the Uncle Tom character is defferential and servile to his oppressors out of fear, he is not exploiting their weakness as a political act designed to further himself at the expense of his fellows.
Phyllis Schlafly doesn’t give a flying fuck about abused mothers or falsely accused fathers or children who suffer in the middle. Phillis Schafly cares about Phyllis Schlafly, and there is no verminous pit so low she will not climb down into it to exploit some ugly sinkhole of rage in order to grab a public platform and count out thirty more pieces of silver.
So for future reference, any time you want to remember what a “queen bee” is, just call up the image of the vicious old harpy slag pictured above, because she is the living, breathing soul of the beast.