All those are the anti-feminists songs I grew up with. If you listen carefully, two of them are feminists songs.
I really don't think the mentality shown on these pages is any different than mine. But it's kind of like a conversation I overheard with two neighbors yesterday. The absolute worse thing in their lives was they have water bugs (black roaches -- very common) in their homes. To one of the participation, "If a water bug walks through my living room, I'll die of a stroke."
Really? Really? The thing that was cause that much damage is merely a creepy bug? (And I'm terrified of bugs, so I get the fear.) I want that life!
Except I know her well enough to know the damn bug isn't the worse thing that could ever happen to her. The worse thing that could ever happen to her, (outside of missing God), already has happened. She lost her husband ten years ago. (She's about my age.)
A water bug isn't the worse thing that has ever happened. Feminism isn't the worse thing that ever happened. You're young. (Hey, "young" is anyone under 50. I'm not saying you're kids. I'm saying your young.) You don't remember when it was bad. You don't remember the days when women went to college to find themselves a husband. You don't remember when women had to stay home with the kids. No other choice. Having kids was the main purpose for a woman's life. Coming in second place was to take care of her husband. You don't remember when men thought they gave their wives a good life by handing them over a chunk of meat to make dinner with, so why should the wife feel unfulfilled? You don't remember when "unfulfilled" wasn't even a word used.
And, I'm young. I don't remember when men thought it was foolish for a woman to vote. "Why worry their pretty little brains?" And I don't remember when the main streets of almost every town were lined with men sitting on chairs with bottles in their hands all day and night, and then finally coming home on Friday night to beat their wives, and steal the money they scrounged for all week by washing laundry and darning socks to pay for the food to feed their kids. (That was the reason for the Prohibition Amendment. Not like it was women with nothing better to do than scowl at men drinking.) And I don't remember the big hullabaloo over Rosy the Riveter. And I don't remember what it was for a woman to go through the efforts to become a doctor only to have most people avoid her, because women should never be doctors. (I do remember being shocked when I heard of a woman doctor.)
BUT, I listened to the stories of those generations. And I absolutely know that if it weren't for them, I wouldn't have this world today. If some crazy Quaker women didn't open a store to sell antique jewelry, she probably never would have thought to suggest her daughter go to college to learn how to do something. (They were high society, so my grandmother did not have to go to college to marry a rich man. Going to charity balls and polo matches would have worked.) And if that women who did go to college, hadn't taught her daughter about standing on her own two feet, Mom wouldn't have taught me to make my own decisions in life.
It seems to me being anti-feminist is kind of like being anti-dishwasher. We don't need feminists anymore today than we need dishwashers. Dishes will be cleaned whether washed by hand or washed in a machine. And women will get our rights whether they are feminists or not. The snowball has been rolling down the hill long enough that it's an avalanche now. Matter of fact, the avalanche landed, and we need to clear out extra junk picked up along the way. (Moronic to lower standards to include women. If I'm in a fire, I want someone strong enough to pull me out, not PCism. If we're at war, I want soldier who can carry 50-100 pounds 20 miles a day, not PCism. If someone is mugging me, I can't a cop who can hogtie him, not PCism. And I no more want a topless woman on a train with me than I want a topless man on a train with me. Cover up, people!)
BUT, in 1999, a young woman published a fantasy using just her first initials because the publishing industry knew the world wasn't ready for a fantasy by a mere women. Fantasies are always written by men. It's 2017, and Joanne Rowling has gone past just her initials to hide who she is.