America’s energy policy is in shambles. Current green solutions of solar and wind power, like tidal and geothermal power before them, have proved inadequate. We have lots of coal, but it’s too dirty. The promise of nuclear fusion and breeder reactors remains only a promise. Clearly, America needs a low-tech green-energy source that could be ready tomorrow without political cronyism.
Fortunately, a solution exists to supply ample cheap green energy and, as an added dividend, bring domestic tranquility on a scale once unimaginable. It’s called “Women’s Empowerment.”
I live in New York, and as typical of most urban settings, the city abounds with health clubs, usually with a largely female clientele. You can see it from street level—no matter what the hour, masses of women are furiously marching on treadmills, pumping away on stair climbers, riding stationary bikes, doing aerobics, and otherwise exhausting themselves. This amounts to billions of wasted BTUs. It is also been my impression that the most energetic gym devotees are single liberal Democratic feminists. Married women surely work out, but less frequently, and they lack their angry feminist sisters’ intensity.
The trick is to harness this wasted energy and route it to the power grid. I propose a new era of neighborhood power stations consisting of gyms catering to women, especially those of the angry feminist persuasion. With minimal cost, entrepreneurs would construct Women’s Empowerment Centers (WECs) that would attract exercise-driven feminists. There would be zero carbon, zero radioactive waste, no birds killed by windmills, and no dangerous high-voltage transmission lines—clean, clean, clean, and cheap! These facilities would superficially resemble exercise clubs. Only a keen observer could tell the difference.
To “supercharge” these women, I suggest the old feminist standby—consciousness-raising. After a few minutes of warm-ups, a paid group leader would turn up the fury by reading aloud womyn’s herstory: how women were abused as property, how the patriarchy enforces the glass ceiling, livid details of what happens to women who rejected the sexual double standard, and graphic stories of botched female circumcision. The surrounding walls will be covered with anger-arousing statistics—women only earn 57% of a man’s salary, divorced women’s standard of living declines by 70%, women hold fewer than 10% of all top government and industry positions, and a woman’s blouse costs more to dry-clean than a man’s shirt. Attendants would distribute tempting food and drink while warning recipients that such delectables would make women too fat to attract a rich husband after their present spouse abandons them for a young tart.
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