Comments on: Save the Morons, Part 2

By: Funny about Money

Funny about Money — Fri, 13 Feb 2009 01:39:04 +0000

Dear god. Are there really people in the world who are that stupid?

Although I’ve so far been fortunate enough to evade this hideous disease, many friends have had to contend with it. Occasionally I join one of those breast cancer walk-a-thons. The pink ribbons and the pink stuffed animals that festoon these events offend, because they do trivialize. They trivialize not only women who have been afflicted with a life-threatening disease but ALL women, us little girlie things who have to be talked down to if we are to cope.

“Save the Tatas”? Please. Take it to Hooters!

By: ThinklePeep

ThinklePeep — Sat, 07 Feb 2009 06:18:50 +0000

A lot of people feel they need to trivialize things that are too big for them to think about. Chunk up big scary thoughts into small, funny chunks and somehow it’s easier to deal with – and easier to be in denial that it could ever really happen to them. Doesn’t make it right…just makes it human. If they truly are raising money for the cause, I say let them play in their side of the sandbox and we’ll stay on our side.

I’m not going to buy their merchandise, but then, we live in an age when every conceiveable item can be emblazoned with a pink ribbon and sold for twice its normal value because that somehow makes it more meaningful. But I think the real reason there is so much pink ribbon stuff is because it makes people lots of money, money that comes from vulnerable patients, survivors and families.

By: Steve

Steve — Thu, 29 Jan 2009 00:12:42 +0000

Dear Cancer Bitch: Men are all 12-year olds at heart. Men would not only not be offended or think it trivializing, men would think “Save the Balls” both funny and appropriate to raise money for testicular cancer. Women, being for the most part more mature, thoughtful, sensitive creatures, need not apologize for taking offense at STTT. Most women I know, survivors or not, would be mildly offended to appalled. But those of us who still find every fart funny would be glad to start and contribute to STB.

By: JCK

JCK — Wed, 28 Jan 2009 05:41:09 +0000

Save the Tatas has been offputting to me as well.

By: Brigindo

Brigindo — Tue, 27 Jan 2009 15:28:22 +0000

Thanks! Looking forward to reading it.

By: Kairol Rosenthal

Kairol Rosenthal — Tue, 27 Jan 2009 09:11:48 +0000

“ I believe that ’save the tatas’ is directed more towards gaining funds to find a cure for breast cancer, and not actually saving the breast once cancer has been diagnosed.” This actually had me rolling on the floor. Did this statement come from the mouth of the Miss Teen USA South Carolina contestant, or a Katie Couric interview with Sarah Palin? Fantastic and frightening.

By: ruthpennebaker

ruthpennebaker — Tue, 27 Jan 2009 05:22:25 +0000

Brigindo — I’m a great admirer of Barbara Ehrenreich’s and thought her article was great. I haven’t read King’s book, though.

Another excellent book is also on the horizon: Wisenberg, S.L. THE ADVENTURES OF CANCER BITCH Univ. of Iowa (Adult NONFICTION) $25.00 Mar. 1, 2009. It’s written by my friend Cancer Bitch, who commented above.

By: Brigindo

Brigindo — Tue, 27 Jan 2009 04:50:07 +0000

There is so much wrong with “Save the TaTas” that I can’t even go there in a comment. I teach Women’s Health and ended up on a soapbox in front of my undergraduate class over the issue last semester. They listened politely and waited patiently until I got back down.

Have you read Barbara Ehrenriech’s “Welcome to Cancerland”? It was published in Harpers Magazine in 2001. Another really good read (not as fun but gets the blood boiling) is Samantha King’s Pink Ribbons.

By: Anne Gibert

Anne Gibert — Tue, 27 Jan 2009 03:08:08 +0000

I would be interested to know how much of the money they collect is actually spent on cancer research, and how much on more tasteless slogans and bumper stickers. I guess I’m just a suspicious type. Who is paid for this stuff?

By: jmobx

jmobx — Tue, 27 Jan 2009 03:02:42 +0000

My mother died of it when I was 18. She was 49. My sister has it now. I’m ok so far. The next generation of girls in the family, our precious daughters, are scared. There is not one single cute thing about living with this fear.