Great Moments in Patriarchy.

When I was a hot young thing of six, I used to take baths. Naked.... Fully naked.

If you don't remember, "baths" took place in showers, only you could sit on the floor because there weren't battling colonies of chlamydia and SARS fighting VIRAL WORLD WAR XVII under the no-slip mat. Somehow getting married and living in a house in the suburbs keeps the tub as pristine as a wedding day virgin. It's, like, the power of love or the Sam's Club quantities of bleach readily available. Whichever.

Often I took these "sitting showers" with my sister. (Interesting tidbit: Sitting Showers is my official hippie moniker). We were both naked during these sessions.

Fully Naked.

(Sorry, I am trying to attract more "hits". Since Jessica Alba got pregnant I've lost my core audience of readers coming to my blog from a "Jessica Alba, perfect vagina ratio" Google search, which I find to be a troubling sign of the patriarchy. I'm sure her vagina is still a wonderland, dudes. PREGNANCY IS NOT THE END OF A SEXUAL BEING, okay?)

As my Mom gingerly washed our pre-nubile limbs she would sing to us, as moms are apt to do, especially moms with terrible singing voices like ours. We had a song for almost everything. Brushing teeth was enjoyed to the tune of "Brush ur teeth! Sh Sh ShShShhhhh" (use your imagination for the musical qualities). We also all had personalized bedtime lullabies. Mine was "Pretty Little Lauren, Meow, Meow, Meow" which taught me to paw like a sexy cat so I could get started with my plot of sexual- world-domination-resulting-in-matriarchal-rule, just as soon as my breasts grew in nicely.

In the bath, my Mom sang the song based on the 1921 movie The Sheik as she sudsed our hair and instructed us to close our eyes. The Sheik, of course, was one of the great feminist silent films of the early twentieth century. A feisty, independent Englishwoman goes galavanting through the Arabian desert, much to the consternation of her male English peers, only to be kidnapped by a Sheik and made his sex slave. The white dudes are all like "Well, she durn deserved dit!" and the once feisty, now besotted Englishwoman is apparently so taken with her rapist's arabian serpent that she falls madly in love with him. This is a rom-com, my friends. Pretty much like Knocked Up.

The song went as follows (also with chords, if you want to learn to play it like I am right now!):

I'm the sheik of Ar - a - by;

Am7 D9 Am7 D7 G Bm7 Am7 D7
Your love be - longs to me.

Bm7 Edim Bm7-5 Am7 D7
At night when you're a - sleep,

Am7 D9 Am7 Cdim G Fdim Am7 D7
In - to your tent I'll creep.

G6 Bm7-5 Edim Cdim Am7 D7
The stars that shine a - bove

Am7 D7 C7 B7
Will light our way to love;

E7 Fdim E7 A7 Em7 A7
You'll rule this world with me,

Em7 Am7 D9 Am7 Cdim G
The sheik of Ar - a - by.


During the "into your bed, I'll creepy, creepy, creep" line Mom would run her hands up and down our stomachs, tickling us and making us erupt into fits of giggles. Rape insinuations are so fun! Please hire me to write a Modern Love column--"What The Sheik Taught Me About Orgasming."

I don't blame mothers, because that is retarded, but I will admit that it took awhile to shed myself of my Sheik-based notions of love, that is, the idea that I should fall in love with anything that puts a dick inside me. Now I just fall in love with anything that goes inside me with my consent, not excluding gynos, abortion vacuums, tampons, and various dildos. It's the endorphins, duh.

But for other women who escaped being Sheikified at an early age, there is hope for you. I offer this video from The Son of The Sheik, the 1926 sequel, as a lesson of what to watch out for. Notice the "I'm Going To Rape You" eyebrow expression. Also, be aware that you should never put yourself in the situation where you are in a silent film, because you CAN'T SAY "NO" IN A SILENT FILM, and the courts will fuck you over on that.