SEXIST DOLLS – CRAZE OR CERTAINTY?

 

 

Is gifting your short and sweet niece a doll considered sexist? It is if you ask some contemporary feminists. According to them, buying little girls dolls, culinary toys or any item which is deemed cruelly feminine by our bigoted minds makes one sexist. Supposedly the biological differences cited by scientists between the masculine and the feminine, the X and the Y are completely propped and agated by presents given to kids of either gender by eager uncles or fractious fathers or busy mothers.

As silly as that may sound to some proponents of the school of common sense, it is still a theory which has garnered much support by feminists who shun evolutionary psychology(an intriguing field to anyone interested in how certain body organs evolve) as a pseudo-science and common sense as all too base and passe. To even consider finding a chink in their armor is crossing all limits and committing a treacherous thought crime, largely caused due (reverse psychology here, one presumes) to ingrained misogyny.

Are children, especially girls who play with dolls cooingly growing up to be ill-equipped for modern life? Are they too weak-minded, too old-fashioned? The writer could not possibly fathom enough IQ points to answer such a question. One shudders even at the thought of getting too close to these dolls, cracked lips and slumped shoulders and all. But their phantomlike threads of hair, their vast open eyes be they black, the colour denoting coldly the absence of any tint or taint, or their sense of sacrifice in giving up their plastic bodies to endless examination and exploration really make one wonder if one should ever drop coolly these dollies.

The writer offers no peaceable solution to this complaint of sexist dolls. Certainly none can for this seems like a cold war of thoughts, emotions and personalities. The feminists are considered a raving bunch of lunatics by even their own predecessors of thought and the other side is full of manic villains according to the feminists. A white flag may be waved every now and then but it is soon forgotten in light of new skirmishes and romances. Such is the battle of ideas. Like the warrior goddess, born from the forehead of her almighty father, the writer’s position is that of an observer first, lest he be buried in a barrage of acrid words and be forced to draw his pen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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