V-day for the V.J.! (That means “Victory for the Vagina,” you brownie-to-be…)

Or so they thought. The New York Times, of course, has got news for them. Hymens are baaack — with a vengeance, too.

Along with those offensive Turks banging at the E.U. gates and those Mohammed-loving Danes who still can’t seem to take a joke, a deluge of “ethnic” hymens are welled up at the levees of Europe, and they’re threatening to soak the entire continent in, you guessed it, blessed virginal blood! Ooooh! Just in time for summer!

Here’s the skinny: French courts recently allowed a man to annul his marriage based on an absent hymen, and it’s sent a current through the country. On one side, Muslim women are running around the country getting their writs and “repairs” (you remember, nah Brownies? We’ve been through this already…), while on the other, French feminists are hot and bothered about the renewed attention bestowed upon that castaway membrane they thought they ditched back there with Robespierre and his guillotine.

Check out the link below… But first, a little taste from the man who’s church blessed the marriage in the first place:

The man [who filed for divorce] is the biggest of all the donkeys. Even if the woman was no longer a virgin, he had no right to expose her honor. This is not what Islam teaches. It teaches forgiveness.
–Abdelkibir Errami, Vice President of the Islamic Center of Roubaix

• NY Times: Operation Lets Muslim Women Reclaim Virginity
  

He mumbled a few words, smiled, and told me not to worry. By the time I finished explaining how I had seen a dermatologist and was going to start taking Acutane, he had already burrowed into his closet pharmacy. Between questions about school and my friends and life in America, he’d surface from beneath his suit coats and Nani Ji’s saris holding a small test tube-like beaker to light, studying its label. Occasionally, when he’d found the right one, he would grab the tweezers, pull out a few round, white pills and swish them around into a stubby brown container.

I was impressed - until I had my first dose. I placed this “homeopathic” medicine beneath my tongue, and instantly started salivating. They were sugar pills. And I laughed and he laughed with me.

And since that day, I tease him about his pharmacy, and the rows of homogeneous homeopathic beakers hiding beneath his undershirts. He laughs and goes on taking his sugar pills.

I don’t think I understood why until I read this account:

Bidoun - The Road to Wellville

“Look at your wonderful achievement, o! Modern man of flying colors! The gigantic synthetic tree you have grown has no leaves, no flowers. “

To quote Ian Scott, a man wiser than he admits, “If it feels good, do it.”