‘The Natural Feeling Had Been Driven Out Of Them’
Via Darleen Click, we learn that the Boy Scouts Of America has banned water gun fighting, among other ‘unkind’ activities [you know, the kind boys always engage in and enjoy].
Darleen also provides an excerpt from the Girls Scouts Of America blog, that shows just how thoroughly the Feminists have taken over what once was a sane organization for girls.
It seems to me that (1) the people in charge of the Boy Scouts are afraid and (2) the people in charge of the Girl Scouts are not.
The latter are fully committed and prepared to lead the girls of America into the Brave New World [ie: Hellhole] the Left is creating and the former will end-up achieving ‘Nirvana’, as well, through their Useful Idiocy.
So…as PW commentator Dave J asks:
For what are they now taught to “scout”, offenses, oppression and inequality?
They are to scout for Enemies Of The Party, don’t ya know.
He saw himself standing there in the dim lamplight, with the smell of bugs and cheap scent in his nostrils, and in his heart a feeling of defeat and resentment which even at that moment was mixed up with the thought of Katharine’s white body, frozen for ever by the hypnotic power of the Party.
Why did it always have to be like this? Why could he not have a woman of his own instead of these filthy scuffles at intervals of years? But a real love affair was an almost unthinkable event.
The women of the Party were all alike. Chastity was as deep ingrained in them as Party loyalty. By careful early conditioning, by games and cold water, by the rubbish that was dinned into them at school and in the Spies and the Youth League, by lectures, parades, songs, slogans, and martial music, the natural feeling had been driven out of them.
Julia was twenty-six years old. She lived in a hostel with thirty other girls (‘Always in the stink of women! How I hate women!’ she said parenthetically), and she worked, as he had guessed, on the novel-writing machines in the Fiction Department.
She enjoyed her work, which consisted chiefly in running and servicing a powerful but tricky electric motor. She was ‘not clever’, but was fond of using her hands and felt at home with machinery. She could describe the whole process of composing a novel, from the general directive issued by the Planning Committee down to the final touching-up by the Rewrite Squad.
But she was not interested in the finished product. She ‘didn’t much care for reading,’ she said. Books were just a commodity that had to be produced, like jam or bootlaces.
She had no memories of anything before the early ‘sixties and the only person she had ever known who talked frequently of the days before the Revolution was a grandfather who had disappeared when she was eight.
At school she had been captain of the hockey team and had won the gymnastics trophy two years running. She had been a troop-leader in the Spies and a branch secretary in the Youth League before joining the Junior Anti-Sex League. She had always borne an excellent character.
She had even (an infallible mark of good reputation) been picked out to work in Pornosec, the sub-section of the Fiction Department which turned out cheap pornography for distribution among the proles.
—Nineteen Eighty-Four [re-paragraphing mine]