The Bedlam Farm Men’s Club – Strut the rooster, Simon, me and Red (George Forss the photographer and the farrier Ken Norman are honorary members) held our monthly meeting in the Pole Barn this morning. I called the meeting because of the rash of stupid things politicians and political candidates have been saying about women and I wanted to discuss it with the testosterone-driven men who live on the farm.  Democrats were accusing the Republicans of saying stupid things, and last week the Republicans met in conference and asked their candidates to stop saying stupid things.The men’s group hasn’t met to talk about sex since Congressman Weiner sent photos of his penis out to some girlfriend on Twitter.

Well, it’s a landmark time in American political life, I thought, when politicians stop saying stupid things about women. They will have to focus their stupid comments on other things like the environment, budgets and patriotism. It seems to me it will take awhile to make such a dramatic change happen. But we want to be ready. So I thought it was time to talk to the male animals here.

I don’t believe I have a lot of testosterone these days but there is sure a lot on the farm. Every day I see Strut mounting a hen, and Simon..well, this is a family site, I don’t want to get into it, and when Red is around sheep he turns into  a little Red Schwarzenegger – you’ve seen the photos.

“Listen up, guys,” I said, there is an epidemic of stupid things coming out of the mouths of men about women and I wanted to talk to you about it. Don’t say stupid things about anybody, but especially don’t say stupid things about women. They get highly offended, and you can get in trouble  —

“Heh, heh,” said Simon. “He said ass..” Simon, I scolded, stop doing your Beavis & Butthead imitation. It isn’t funny.

“What shouldn’t  we say, ” asked Red?

“Well, for starters, how about you just don’t offer any theories about sexual assault or harassment, the biological process of sex and birth or contraception..”

Strut looked puzzled. “Never mind about contraception,” I said.

“And you Simon. When you climb up on Lulu and Fanny and they kick you in the head, don’t tell them they’re just playing hard to get. That is wrong. And stupid, too.”

Simon let out one of his mournful signature brays.

“Don’t tell women who are  angry or upset with you that it’s just their time of month. That is stupid. Don’t tell them that they won’t have babies if they hold their breath and recite the National Anthem after unwanted sex.  And here’s another one, don’t tell women who show their feelings that they are prone to emotion while weepy men are just sensitive. That’s pretty stupid.”

“Can we still have sex?” asked Strut.

“You’re missing the point, Strut,” said. “You can have all the sex you want if the hens say it’s okay, not if you chase them around and jump on them and assault tell them the eggs won’t be fertilized if it’s a good sexual assault.” Strut shrugged. “Okay,” he said, a bit disappointed but agreeable.

And you, Red, I said. “Don’t go around telling the ewes that they’re acting like a bunch of sheep. Even if it’s true, it’s stupid.”

I saw the group was puzzled, a bit deflated. “Times are changing,” I said. “Women don’t put up with stupid stuff anymore. They have finally figured out they don’t have to, and they just get on Facebook and Twitter and get excited, and they can get their friends upset and emotional —

“Hey,” said Simon, “you said they were emotional. That sounds stupid to me. Don’t be an ass.”

I sighed. “You’re right,” I said. “This meeting was successful. This meeting is over.”