Erica Jong says Matt Taibbi wants to fuck his mom! But he can't, so instead he channeled that desire into print by calling Hillary Clinton's arms "flabby." It's all part of the feminist author Jong's theory of "Misogyny, Momism, and Militarism," which she chronicled on the Huffington Post. "Momism is a kind of Oedipal obsession with the bad mother — to counter a boy's attraction to his good mother...You cannot fuck your mother so you must revile her," she explains. Taibbi, the angry Rolling Stone writer who is the most entertaining political journo in America, surprisingly took offense to Jong's logical inference that his use of an accurate adjective in a magazine story pointed to his own desire for incest. So he replied: you're an old, ignorant hack, Erica Jong!

Oh happy day! Post-feminist "social critic" Camille Paglia is taking your letters over at Salon! Well, "your" letters if "you" are the type of person who writes in to ask why, exactly, noted evil bitch Hillary Clinton only surrounds herself with "passive-aggressive, sadistic, mean, little, petty beta-male pieces of work who would not naturally succeed in a common male-type hierarchy." Paglia's response? That is a very, very good question. She herself has noticed that "the male staff who Hillary attracts are slick, geeky weasels or rancid, asexual cream puffs." Oh, but we've barely scraped the armchair-psychoanalytical surface!

"Valerie Benjamin, a human-resources manager for a consulting firm [in Pittsburgh], was driving to work recently in her red minivan with a Hillary bumper sticker when a man pulled up alongside and rolled down his window. 'You can be for Hillary all you want,' he shouted, 'but there is no way that thing is going to become president.'" You see, Senator Clinton inspires such a feverish rage in the minds of crotch-scratching knuckleheads that if she fails to become the Democratic nominee for President she will have set back the women's movement by decades. Run for cover!

In today's installment of our review of the world's most amusing vintage ads, we take a look at General Electric's magazine ads from the 1930s and 40s. When they weren't building US bombs to help the war effort, they had a mess of lamps, refrigerators, and radios to sell to housewives and their all-American families in shudder-worthy ways. Boris Karloff, scary children, patriotic dishwashing, and the perfect Mother's Day gift, after the jump.

Stephanie Rosenbloom puff-profiled Alice Walker's daughter Rebecca yesterday, pointing out that her new memoir is "unusual in that it is a pregnancy book with a message for women who are not yet pregnant"—that message being 'put having children before your career if you know that you want them.' Personally, we find that message about as "unusual" as, say, a "bisexual" woman who eventually ends up with a dude, but that's just us! Rosenbloom's piece also quotes fellow professional feminist Jennifer Baumgardner as saying that Walker is "extremely significant for younger feminists" and "a superstar." The Book Review seems unconvinced on that front, however, calling Walker's book a "solipsistic open diary" and "merely a paean to pampering." Well, we suppose that if there's one thing we've learned from all this, it's that you can have it both ways.

Today, the two lady film critics of the internet, Slate's Dana Stevens and Salon's Stephanie Zacharek, get down and dirty in the mud-wrestling pit over Black Snake Moan, the nympho-skank-white-girl gets cured by woodsy-musical-black-man flick. (Which we're so not going to see. Dunno why. Sorta don't care.) What we really don't understand is how Dana—sample Dana Stevens quote: "Chaining someone to your radiator is wrong"—ended up at the fairly manly Slate, instead of over at the insanely Feminism 101 Salon. Can we at least arrange some sort of exchange program? Dana could probably use some time hanging out around Salon's pink water cooler for a few weeks, where all the meetings seem to be a meeting in the ladies' room. Usually with a hand mirror, all Our Bodies, Ourselves stylee.

Catfight alert! Janet Hanson, the founder of Viswanathan-employing women's networking group 85 Broads, is incensed over an article by Financial Times columnist and author Lucy Kellaway. Kellaway, whose stock in trade is gently satirizing the more ridiculous aspects of corporate culture, had a bit of fun at the expense of groups like 85 Broads, quite reasonably pointing out that they're all about a "supportive we're-in-this-together atmosphere that is made less supportive both by being compulsory and by the competition that lurks not far beneath the surface." Hanson took it upon herself to totally disprove Kellaway's assertion that bitchiness lurks just beneath her group's cheery veneer by posting a vitriolic, CAPITALIZATION HEAVY rant on her blog about it, and by sending a mass email announcing that she'd done so. Meanwhile, some men somewhere had a meeting and all got raises.

Lucy Kellaway Gives SHREW a Whole New Meaning! [85 Broads]
Let's Stand On Our Own Feet, Not Other Women's Shoulders [FT]

From the Times:

Two early-30s New York Magazine contributing editors, two strikingly similar reviews of 'Dirty Blonde' — one in the mag, one in this weekend's NYT Book Review.
First, the confession of fandom:
Ariel Levy: "For this I love Courtney Love. Oh that's right, I sometimes think when I hear her, her music is actually really different, and really good."
Emily Nussbaum: "Her 1994 album "Live Through This" was the first rock I'd ever heard that really focused on women, with lyrics about breast-feeding and rape and competition, but done with humor and a nutsy aggression rare among female performers. I listened to it about 50 times."
But what's Love's big failing?

In the intro to her review of Laura Kipnis's latest, The Female Thing, Emily Nussbaum asks a good question:

With Katie Couric's ratings dropping back to third place, as is God's intended place for CBS News, the producers are pulling out all the stops to lure in viewers — and there's no harm in reminding everyone of Couric's highly feminine, all-American, Rockwellian wiles. From the Couric & Co. blog:

In next week's fall issue of Ms. magazine, there's a cover story called "We Had Abortions," featuring the names of thousands of American woman who signed a petition and knowingly, intentionally volunteered their names in support of the pro-choice cause. You know the rationale: real women, unashamed, stepping forward to declare that they made the choice and were not struck by lightning on their way out of the clinic. Naturally the story is causing all sorts of pro-life hysteria which, on the upside, means people might actually start reading Ms. again. On the downside, AOL posted a lovely poll yesterday asking readers: "What do you think of Ms. magazine's naming of women who had abortions?" Not exactly a straight question, since the women outed themselves. Late yesterday afternoon, Ms. complained, and AOL changed the question to something "more fair" (above), though it doesn't strike us as much of an improvement. But you have to admire AOL's restraint in not asking "What do you think of Ms. magazine's list of sinners, harlots, and whores?" You know their subscribers were clamoring for that one.

Forbes sex "exercise porn" feminism "offensive gender stereotypes"

• Gee, where did the Forbes article by Michael Noer — the asswipe who advises against marrying a woman who has goals that extend beyond wiping up baby poop — go? Suddenly it's not online! (Ironically enough, we hear that Noer himself is currently away at a wedding, of all things.) Perhaps one of Noer's female bosses realized it'd be best not to publish work by a reactionary douchebag. Who, we might add, is NOT that attractive. Yep, we're going low. Mwa. [Forbes]
• Bonus: nine perfectly good reasons you should marry a power whore. [Hipster Pit]
• In order to promote her new album, Paris Hilton hacks her way into Lindsay Lohan's voicemail. Really, we don't believe she's smart enough to pull off something like this, but her PR team is certainly smart enough to organize a campaign accusing her of such. [TMZ]
• TMZ reports that Horatio Sanz and Will Forte are out at Saturday Night Live; FishbowlNY says it's Sanz and Chris Parnell. Either way, we're getting rid of Sanz, thank God. Maybe they'll hire someone who can keep a straight face and stay in character for more than 23 seconds?
• Rupert Murdoch and Bill Clinton's friendship makes for great UK tabloid contests. [Daily Politics]
• New Marie Claire editor Joanna Coles is no Tina Brown, mostly because she's the editor of Marie Claire. [NYSun]

In some sort of legal twisting of the pot-kettle issue, Maxim, the men's magazine that reads like a Tampa strip joint, is suing actual Tampa strip joint Maxxim Mens Club and Steakhouse. Dennis Publishing has filed suit against the adult venue for trademark infringement, trademark dilution and unfair competition. Best of all, the publishing house claims that by associating the Maxim name with a venue that allows women to remove their clothes for money, Dennis' reputation is harmed.

Hot on the trail of the "man flab" trend, those progressive dandies over at Details feature an article on the return of curves in Hollywood — "FAT IS BACK," etc. Otherwise likeable writer Holly Millea argues that actresses like Rachel Weisz, Kate Winslet and Catherine Zeta-Jones are paving the way for calorie-loving girls everywhere, fighting the Nicole Richies of the world one sandwich at a time. Notes Salon's Broadsheet Broad Rebecca Traister:

Click to enlarge.

• Fortune editor to co-write Alan Greenspan's memoir. He's say he's excited, but that might be viewed as irrationally exuberant. [NYT]
• And Ted Turner will likely have a memoir coming, too. [NYP]
• More and more newspaper advertising is shifting to web. Um, duh. [NYT]
• Elizabeth Vargas needed that anchor chair like a fish needs a bicycle. Honest. [Phil. Inq.]

On the matter of school fundraiser auctions, a Barnard alum emails about the ladies' own auction. As she puts it, "I was pretty horrified to see my fabulously feminist alma matter Barnard College's offerings." Why so disturbing? Because, amidst the expected booty of a day at Seventeen (Toos Rubenstein '93) and a taping of Martha (Martha Stewart '63, Cyndi Stivers '78), there are a few special items: