Hello again, everyone, and top of the muffin to ya! Today’s subject is named after what the cows leave behind in the fields, probably since that’s how the author sees herself and all women. It’s like an acid trip to the past, except that I’m not sure there was any time in recorded history when women were portrayed as quite so weak, passive and ridiculous, so it’s more like a close encounter of the Stepford kind. Get ready for the androids in aprons, because this month’s Nutwatch takes on
Shouldn’t that be “The Prairie Muffinesto”? Anyway, read on; Naked Chained Slave-Girls of Gor has nothing on this.
Note: It was decided in a hotly-contested election, that the husbands of Prairie Muffins would henceforth be known as “Prairie Dawgs.”
Oh, I can imagine how hotly contested that was.
Prairie Muffin #1 : I call my husband “Master” at all times.
Prairie Muffin #2 : Really? That just doesn’t sound respectful enough, if you don’t mind my saying so. I call my husband Dominus et Paterfamilias et Spiritus Sancti. Now that’s submissive!
Prairie Muffin #3 : Sisters, sisters! We’re missing the point. Don’t you see, if we use different terms to refer to our earthly lords, young girls might get the idea that it’s all right to use different terms to refer to other things as well.
Prairie Muffin #1 : Oh, dear heavens, you’re right! They’d go from there to believing it was all right to think differently, or… or dress differently…
Prairie Muffin #2 : <faints dead away>
Single women aspiring to be Prairie Muffins will be known as “Muffin Mixes” and young children of Prairie Muffins are “Mini Muffins.”
Wait, young children of either sex are known as Muffins? I thought the “muffin” designation applied only to females, but now I understand. We are clearly dealing with an alien species where the non-sentient females produce genderless young. These have to wait until the onset of puberty to develop into males or females. If they are unfortunate and become the latter, they remain in a dry, unformed and useless state until the addition of fluid and effort from a male.
I have to say, this is an interesting species. Completely unhuman and, one might say, inhuman, but interesting nevertheless for its utter misogyny.
Prairie Muffins are helpmeets to their husbands, seeking creative and practical ways to further their husbands’ callings and aid them in their dominion responsibilities.
Please, the husband’s probably out on the farm feeding two pigs and an arthritic chicken. Hardly something he needs help doing, though I must say, the word dominion just reinforced my impression that these people weren’t from terra firma. Or on it, for that matter.
Prairie Muffins are aware that God is in control of their ability to conceive and bear children, and they are content to allow Him to bless them as He chooses in this area.
Either the alien species is attempting to replenish what must be a severely depleted population, perhaps due to an epidemic or a nuclear holocaust, or it plans to defeat its enemies through sheer overbreeding. Use the Force of Fecundity, Luke!
Prairie Muffins own aprons and they know how to use them.
A whipping with the strings if they speak without being spoken to first?
Prairie Muffins place their husbands’ needs and desires above other obligations, arranging their schedules and responsibilities so that they do not neglect the one who provides for and protects them and their children.
Husbands seem like gods to these women. Lesser gods, perhaps, household gods as opposed to the world wide god, but still gods.
Prairie Muffins are fiercely submissive to God and to their husbands.
I wonder what happens if a Prairie Muffin’s husband ever decides that he’d like to have an equal partner in life, someone with a job and opinions of her own, someone who took responsibility for family planning. The Prairie Muffin would probably hit him with a rolling pin until he accepted her fierce submission.
Chocolate bon-bons may be a rare indulgence, but Prairie Muffins don’t have the time or inclination to waste their lives on soap operas or other inane and inappropriate entertainment.
Did she say “chocolate bon-bons”? I imagine the husband comes home, runs his finger along the mantelpiece to make sure she’s done the dusting, checks that the canned goods are turned so their labels face forward, and then has his hot dinner. Satisfied, he unwraps a chocolate bon-bon and balances it on the bridge of his wife’s nose. “Waaaait… when I say so, honey… just a moment longer… now!”
It’s sad that Prairie Muffins don’t seem to think there’s anything on TV other than soap operas, but that’s part of the caricature of femininity that the website paints. I’m sure that if the Prairie Muffins had to say what kind of books other women read, they’d pick Harlequin romances. It’s like a muffin/whore complex. Oh, and I’m not kidding about the author’s husband feeding her with little treats. There’s a line in her blog where she says,
I nibbled a piece of chocolate and drank a glass of wine (given to me earlier by my husband)
Maybe she met him at the door wearing the apron, and nothing but.
Though we abhor the idea of women being involved in the military and fighting battles which men are commanded to fight, Prairie Muffins recognize that there is a real battle in which they are on the front lines: the battle of the seed of the woman against the seed of the serpent.
Ah, I was right. The species does intend to use its unfettered reproductive potential to fight a war it appears to be losing. Let’s face it, if the males of this species must rely in any way on the passive and mindless females, it’s pretty much doomed.
In this most-important conflict, we gratefully serve King Jesus in the capacity He has given us, waving our wooden spoons
Good grief, they don’t even have food processors. What are they trying to do, out-Amish the Amish? As for the “King Jesus” part., I tried to recall any time in the Bible when Jesus put on a crown and asked that he be referred to with that title. Nothing came to mind, and even though the “king” made me think of a chessboard, that wouldn’t suit the Prairie Muffins. You know how much power the one female chesspiece has?
and rallying our children to stand alongside us in the battle, training them to be mighty warriors in the defense and furthering of God’s kingdom.
Shouldn’t that be Mighty Muffins? But at least these passive broodmares have a rich fantasy life where they are powerful warriors. Since their repressed anger and frustration can’t be shown to their husbands, it boils over at the only possible target – their children the legions of the damned. I’m sure that if said legions have a secret pathological fear of wooden spoons, the war will be over in no time.
Prairie Muffins are happy to be girls…
The spiritual equivalent of JonBenet Ramsay.
They are also happy that their husbands are masculine, and they do not diminish that masculinity by harping on habits which emanate from the fact that boys will be boys, even when they grow up.
I wonder if the husbands might like T-shirts saying, “I’m with Submissive” or “My other wife is a Domme”.
In addition, Prairie Muffins are careful not to use their feminine, hormotional weaknesses to excuse sinful attitudes and actions, but learn to depend more and more on God’s grace and strength in the midst of any monthly trials.
Anything men do is excused with “boys will be boys”, but women don’t get a corresponding “girls will be girls” excuse? Anyway, here’s a sure-fire cure for your monthly trials – get pregnant yet again. Let no egg go unfertilized!
The women who will have the greatest impact on the world, those who will have the greatest influence on history, are those “well-behaved” women…
Wow, Rosa Parks might have had an even bigger impact on history if she’d been well-behaved enough to get up and give her seat to a man. Then again, no decent woman would take a bus; she’d wait at home until her husband or father gave her permission and transportation to the grocery store, the church or the OB-GYN department. In the Muffinverse, those are the only legitimate places for a woman, and another article on this website spells out
The article acknowledges that a few women in the bible did more than stay at home raising families – and weren’t cast down into hell for that – but the author’s reaction to that is odd, to say the least.
In other words, Deborah was a special case and we can’t use her as an example of the propriety of women pursuing a “vocation.” In fact, her leadership was a curse on the men of Israel for doing what was right in their own eyes and for being such wimps. Isaiah 3:12 also affirms that it is a curse to have women rulers.
So when a woman successfully leads her people, this is a “curse” according to the Prairie Muffins. I wonder, when a man leads, is that a blessing whether he is successful or not? Statements like that show the depth of misogyny in this mentality. It’s one thing to claim that you personally are unfit for leadership or independence or training pants. It’s another thing entirely to raise your daughters to believe this, and to cast aspersions on women who don’t choose the same battery-hen lifestyle.
Spending so many hours in the artificial environment of the classroom, people can sometimes become too dependent on a teacher to impart knowledge, and they understand more about fitting into a bureaucratic structure than about taking the initiative and forging new paths.
I’m not certain how one reconciles “taking the initiative and forging new paths” with raising a girl in a homeschooled hothouse atmosphere and indoctrinating her with the idea that she cannot and should not have a job or career. But then I came across this little mention of what unmarried girls can do instead of getting an education.
We like some of you have daughters of martial age [Freudian slip? – QoS] still living at home waiting for God to supply a Godly young man as a life-mate. Ireael is 22, Michaele is 20, they have each about completely finished copying the Bible, O.T. and N.T., by typing it or hand written.
That is definitely taking the road less trodden. I wonder what’ll happen if these girls reach the end of the bible before God supplies these Godly young men from his Godly warehouse. Maybe they could start again, but this time embroider the entire bible on samplers or tattoo it on themselves.
I’m afraid that instead [college] too often fosters intellectual arrogance and creates what R.C. Sproul, Jr. jokingly refers to as “Thunder Puppies.”
I wonder if these women use such silly terms to refer to everything. Lady, shouldn’t you be in the Yummy Tummy Place preparing Godly Hotpots to feed your ten or twelve children Mini Muppets?
Although I am mainly addressing the issue of young ladies going to college, I do question whether college is always necessary or beneficial for our sons, as well.
Well, at least she doesn’t always have a double standard. Hopefully her sons will never want to be doctors, engineers, lawyers, teachers or anything else requiring a college degree. I also wonder how much of the author’s antipathy towards education stems from a feeling that if she can’t have it, then by God her children aren’t going to have it either – and they’ll smile and enjoy not having it as much as she does.
… the common assumption that a well-rounded young woman needs to go away to college for something to “fall back on” can show a lack of trust in God’s provision and a lack of responsibility on the father’s part to properly consider his daughter’s future.
In the Muffinverse, all girls have fathers who take good care of them. Men are as robotic and mechanical as the women, since they never get sick or die until their daughters are safely married off. And fathers, being men, are perfect, so they never have any problems that might necessitate a daughter requiring an education and a job of her own.
That’s one reason the Muffins dislike the works of Louisa May Alcott and Laura Ingalls Wilder – although the URL of their site includes the words “buried treasure books”, Little House on the Prairie is not one of them. Let’s face it, Laura worked outside her home to help send her blind sister to college. I mean, college. Even after God struck the girl blind to keep her at home, she continued on her perverted path. As for Alcott, she actually claimed that women should have the right to vote, rather than the right to remain silent under any and all circumstances.
In summary, Prairie Muffinhood is a stifling, heavily restricted lifestyle and I’m almost sympathetic to the immense pressures it places on these women. They even have to wear uniforms dresses that range from frumpy to downright frightening.
“When my dolly grows up, she can wear this!”
If the Prairie Muffins only inflicted these mental (and polyester, see above) straitjackets on themselves, that would be one thing, but they don’t seem to acknowledge that there could be any other roles or choices for their children other than being in the front lines of the Battle of the Seed. Then again, the best slaves are those who believe that they should be slaves, who feel that they are unsuitable for any other position and who are happy to raise their children as slaves too. As for their veneration of their husbands and of the marital state, since they despise college and seem incapable or terrified of getting a job, no wonder they worship whoever pays their bills. The emphasis on having the largest possible litters could also be rooted in this fear. If the Muffin’s husband is called away to the great bakery in the sky, she’ll either have to cast herself on the offspring or marry again ASAP (and the new husband will want proof of her fertility). In the end, this sums it up succinctly :
Home, home on the range,
The Muffins shall cook and give birth,
And give birth and cook,
It says in the Good Book,
That’s all that a Muffin is worth.