This is bizarre.

Okay. There's a woman named Jessica, she co-writes the blog Feministing. I've linked to it a couple of dozen times, both at this blog and my old one, usually finding it a source of both good humor and good ideas.

Jessica was invited, along with several other bloggers, to meet with Bill Clinton recently. As one would, they posed for a group photo with the former President. Right-wing bloggers are, apparently, in a state of agitation about this.

What has them so stirred up? Well, apparently, it's because Jessica, besides being a funny and smart writer, has these...things. On her chest. These round protruberances, the outlines of which show even when she's wearing a sweater. My god, how distasteful.

Sadly, I am not even making this up. The often-inspirational Amanda from Pandagon had this to say about a couple of Jessica's critics, Ann Althouse and someone called Dr. Helen.

Ann, unable to muster up anything to actually say about the luncheon, decided to invite her male readers to make gross comments about Jessica’s body. Naturally, the word “intern” was thrown around, because about 95% of wingnuts think “interns” are concubines for politicians. When Jessica linked back and told her, far more nicely than I would, to cram it up her tight ass, she decided to write an entire post on Jessica’s boobs. Ann is a Boob Woman, apparently. Dr. Helen, never one not to vie for a chance to bash on women in hopes of earning an honorary penis (for some reason, they haven’t awarded it yet, making her the most optimistic moron ever to walk the face of the planet—the Dr. doesn’t know she can buy a strap-on for a couple hundred bucks, I guess) has written a post inviting her male readers to abuse Jessica for the audacity of being a pretty young woman and also a writer who gets invited to lunch with a former President. Dr. Helen’s excuse is we feminists are opposed to men groping women in bars. This means we are supposed to avoid men who have consensual sex with women. Dr. Helen’s unwillingness to understand the concept of consent still boggles my mind.

(Quick sidebar: A strap-on costs a couple of hundred bucks? Man. I am out of the loop.)

Jill from Feministe, whose responses to previous fun-with-feminism moments I've also linked to in the past, goes into it here.