Reply #77: Then I guess you want me in hell.

[Berry Cool]

I'm plenty offended.

"Save the ta-tas" reduces the crusade against an ugly disease to a joke about saving a sexualized female body part.

It's no longer about saving human beings because they are people with lives; it's about saving a body part that people think of as sexy, BECAUSE its inherent worth is in the fact that people think of it as sexy. To hell, indeed, with the woman it happens to be attached to; what's important is saving the Almighty Ta-Ta.

Of course, that's not all that's wrong with it; those Mother's Day promotions aimed at breast cancer "awareness" (as if we're not all plenty aware of it already) are just as bad. Those are about saving the Almighty Feeder and Nourisher of Mankind more than about saving the woman.

You can say they're not, but they are. Because what all this stuff is about is about dressing up an ugly disease in pink ribbons and roses and, yes, sexy talk in order to better accommodate its reality in our lives. To make it less scary and, actually, more acceptable--when we should be making it LESS acceptable. Referring to the affected body parts as "ta-tas" only makes a joke out of what should be serious business...making a joke out of a killer.

Think about it. Do we have bumper stickers promoting awareness for colon or anal cancer that say "Save the Assholes"? Or penile-awareness boxer shorts that say "Sometimes Even a Dick Is Worth Saving"?

Why do we think it's OK to make breast cancer sweet, pretty, funny, cute, lovable...even sexy? On the principle that so long as it raises awareness and brings in money to "fight" the disease (when's the last time you actually paid attention to where your dollars to "fight" breast cancer go?), it's OK?

I don't care what anyone else thinks. I'm sick of the pink ribbons and the pink jewelry and the pink shoes and pink purses and pink T-shirts and all the pink tchotchkes. I'm sick of the jokes about the mega-importance of saving ta-tas and bazooms and tits. I just want to see the disease eradicated from the face of the earth. I would gladly trade all the cutesy trinkets and clothing and commemorative crap to see it vanish, period. And I frankly don't care if that makes fundraising less "fun" for people. While it's nice if fundraising is "fun," "fun" is not the issue.

It's possible to have so much "fun" fighting a disease--buying stuff and marching and friendmaking and all that business--that the reason and purpose for what one is doing becomes lost. I think that has happened with breast cancer. It's no longer about getting rid of a disease; it's about walks and runs and personal achievement and sisterhood and batting with pink bats "for all our Moms" and playing hockey with pink sticks "for all our Moms" and buying cool high-fashion pink stuff to make you feel as if you have "done your bit for the cause." It is no longer about the women who are suffering and dying. It's just a fun party with a pink theme, and it never ends. I want it to end.

There are plenty of other things to party and laugh about. I don't want to party and laugh about cancer.