Girls Gone Wild Go Home!

Yesterday when I showed up at the Front Porch there was a reporter lady and a camera man standing out in front, interviewing Matt, one of our volunteers. I naturally assumed it was about the FroPo. But no, it was about… “the boot”.

With all due respect to our local crop of intrepid journalists, that is the nature of news in this town. Granted, last night there was a body found near Evangel’s campus, and a car chase and firearms showdown that ended in a suicide, but yesterday afternoon, the press was there to talk about the boot… you know, the device they put on vehicles whose owners have failed to pay their parking tickets. It’s that ironic device that says, “Hey… you’re not supposed to park here. So now you can’t move at all! Ha ha ha! Ha ha ha ha ha ha! Cough… spit!”

So I was standing around for a moment watching Matt’s interview when another guy walked up and said, “Hey, are you guys reporting about Girls Gone Wild?” and he pointed down the street. I looked up and noticed that, parked across the street and about three doors down, was a big tour bus completely wrapped up in a “Girls Gone Wild” graphic. My first reaction was to be surprised that it wasn’t more, well… graphic. Except for the other-worldly-platinum blonde hair, too much makeup and bad-girl smiles it was actually completely modest.

But that’s where the pleasantries ended. The bus was parked in front of the “Boogie” night club, downtown Springfield’s premier meat market. It made me want to slash their tires, if that wouldn’t have actually kept them there longer. The reporter said that, no, she wasn’t doing a story about Girls Gone Wild, she was doing a story about the boot. That, to me, was comparable to doing a story on a pot hole in the street while the house behind you burns to the ground.

My wife stepped up to the front door to join our conversation, and the reporter told us about her angry confrontation with the guy running the GGW show. She had told him off for getting barely legal women liquored up and exploiting them for the cameras in a way that will haunt them forever. He said that quite a few women had gotten good jobs out of it. When she ask what jobs, outside of the porn industry, he said that one woman became a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader. Whoop-de-do. I guess that counts. I wonder what she’ll do when they spit her out at age 31.

When I hear about the 60s and 70s, it makes me wonder where I would have fit into that scene. It’s impossible to know for sure. I do know that I’m against smoking weed, casual sex, and going without a shower for weeks on end. That would probably set me apart from the hippie crowd. But I have to admit they discovered some things about women that our modern society is remiss to neglect.

Yes, I think they went too far with the whole feminazi thing. But something had to be done about the exploitation of women… the reduction of the feminine gender to a possession, a baby factory, and/or a sexual plaything. And they made actual progress. But it seems that, for some reason, there has been a sort of splashback. In one way, the movement continues unabated, in another way it has back-fired. We are simultaneously faced with the strongest female presidential hopeful in history, and the most pervasive sexual objectification ever of her gender.

The saddest thing to me is that, as our culture learned to be more respectful of women, it was not Christians leading the way. And as our culture has slid back down that hill into the gutter and beyond, that Christians still seem to be absent from the conversation. Yes, we preach against adultery and fornication and immodest attire and looking at porn. But are we really opposing evil, and more importantly, are we setting the example for society by treating older women as mothers and younger women as sisters? This is a commandment, for God’s sake! When are we going to start paying attention?

Because you know what Mr. Bus Driver across the street would do, when he launches his routine at the Boogie, if his little sister walked in. The fact is, they’re all his sisters. And they’re your sisters, being reduced to packages of flesh.

Lord have mercy.

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