March 8, was International Women’s Day and l’Osservatore Romano, the semi-official Vatican newspaper, marked it by posing this question:
“What in the 20th century did more to liberate Western women?” And the answer…
“The debate is still open. Some say it was the pill, others the liberalisation of abortion, or being able to work outside the home. Others go even further: the washing machine.” The title of the piece was “The Washing Machine and the Liberation of Women – Put in the Detergent, Close the Lid and Relax.”
Strictly speaking the Osservatore did not actually say home washing machines, but I feel it’s implied and that explains why I have not been fully liberated. I don’t have a washing machine in my apartment and I’m not allowed to have one, so in effect my landlord is willfully keeping me in bondage. How can I expect to achieve anything in this world when I have to walk down three flights of stairs and across a busy main street, all while schlepping an unwieldy laundry bag. Sure, going to the coin laundry is better than a washboard and a bucket of lye, but how can I dream of freedom when my washing hours are dictated by the owner of the Slope Washing Center?
Although I am inclined to believe washing machines are the savior of women in general, there are a few things that are leading me to doubt (egad), the validity of the argurment.
First of all, the paper itself. “semi-official”. Does that mean there is no consensus among the guys with big hats on what is the official paper? Perhaps four bishops, two cardinals and three deacons are behind the Osservatore, and six Bishops, three cardinals, and four virgins produce a different paper? But what paper is that? It seems to me, you are either official, or not. Hey, if you can’t be semi-pregnant, then you can’t be semi-official.
Which brings me to the other kernel of my doubt. I have learned The Osservatore Romano stated the pill was responsible for polluting the environment and contributing to male infertility. Okay, I can go with pollution. Have you seen those little plastic packs? First of all they come in ridiculous colours. PURPLE! PINK! i.e. FEMALE PRODUCT. And they are made of a really hard, tough plastic, so when they fall out of your bag they make a nice “doink” sound, announcing to anyone in range “I’M ON THE PILL, THANKS FOR NOTICING. DO YOU LIKE THE COLOUR OF MY PILL PACK?” You gotta figure these little plastic cases are making more than a few rainbow landfills.
But I do take pause with the male infertility issue. Sure it’s possible, we know a lot of things cause male infertility..Mountain Dew, Hot Tubs, Under Armour athletic wear…but the pill? Well that may a leap too far. My guess is that the wife of the editor of Osservarore Romano was secretly on the pill and when the editor found out (because of the tell-tale doink!) he deduced he was infertile because his mistress never got pregnant either and his wife’s contraception must have been the cause. (What he didn’t know was his mistress was transgendered, but that’s a whole other story).
This has been a very enlightening week for me. I’ve decided to do the only thing that I can do is cast my doubt aside, find an apartment that has a washing machine and truly liberate myself. And what is the first thing I’m going to do with my new found freedom? Why, apply for a staff position at l’Osservatore Romano, of course.
