University of Virginia Library

Fen Montaigne

IMPotent Society Keeps Limping Along

The heckling from the hairy
chested, meaty armed
machismos wasn't particularly
offensive, but I must admit
when the spitting began I was
feeling somewhat disgusted,
and considered their actions to
be altogether childish and in
poor taste, to say the least. I
mean, after all, saliva is saliva,
and it's just the kind of thing
one should keep to oneself.

Unfortunately, there were
others besides the salivating
swine. Close to 500 women,
some carrying signs, some
carrying baseball bats, jeered
the bedraggled IMP society
members as they made their
way into the monthly IMP
meeting. It was a sad sight, and
I winced as violent words like
"Fagot," "Spineless Dog,"
and "Jello-like protozoan"
filled the air.

But the IMP members, being
the good soldiers that they are,
withstood the torment with a
marvelous display of poise and
grace. Most of the men quietly
nudged their way through the
crowd, never taking their eyes
off the ground before them.
Others, the more defiant
members of the IMP faith,
would calmly state at their
aggressors, while boldly giving
the IMP salute. (The IMP
salute, for all those not familiar
with the society's traditions, is
nothing more than a rubbey
arm, daringly dangled at the
saluter's side. The defiant
gesture, according to the IMP
members, symbolizes the
freedom of being impotent.)

Meanwhile, as the abuse
continued outside, the seats
inside were rapidly being
taken, and by 7:55 the 3,000
seat auditorium was nearly
filled to capacity. An
astonishing turnout, to be sure.
The President and top brass of
the society were looking
extremely pleased.

The doors were soon shut
leaving the protesters on the
outside, where they no doubt
belonged. The IMP president
approached the podium, the
hum of the audience hummed
down, and all that could be
heard was an occasional shriek
from a frothing protester,
interspersed between the
rhythmic, eerie clanging of
their Louisville sluggers on the
thick, steel door.

"Good evening. On behalf of
the members of the IMP
Executive Council. I'd like to
take this opportunity to
welcome back all the old IMP
brothers, and to extend a warm
hello to all the newly-imped
IMP members who have
decided to join our ranks."

"It is indeed heartening to
see so many new faces, and I
must admit that two years ago
when Arnold Schifflick and I
were laying down the plans for
our new society, we never
dreamed that in such a short
time our ranks would swell to
over three thousand members.
There are obviously a lot more
disgruntled males in
Charlottesville than we had
ever imagined there would be."

"Let me, for the benefit of
those of you unfamiliar with
our society, just spell out a few
of the cornerstones upon
which our mighty organization
stands."

"First of all, we of the IMP
society are here, not because
we are ashamed of our
impotence and want to be
cured, but because we want to
be impotent, and are proud of
the fact that we are, so to
speak, limp but lovable.
Remember, IMP is beautiful!"

With these stirring words,
the entire audience stood and
wildly flapped their arms
against their sides. Their
enthusiastic acclamation
pleased the President. He
stepped away from the podium
and gave the IMP salute, which
succeeded in arousing the
members even more. He waited
until the crowd grew silent,
then continued his speech.

"We are tired of having to
perform, to always have to, so
to speak, err...get it up."

"And we are tired of
cannibalistic women wanting
us, not for our minds, our
hearts, but solely for our
sexual prowess and our ability
to please them in bed. We are
not sexual objects. We are
human beings, and deserve to
be treated as such."

The crowd flapped and
jeered wildly. All present were
obviously touched, with the
exception of one female
protester who, when the males
toned down, screamed
something like "Licey bastard"
as she threw an overly ripe
banana at the rostrum. The
banana fell well wide of its
mark, and the President
resumed his speech as if
nothing had transpired.

"The male has been
oppressed long enough. It's
always the male that has to
make the money. It's always
the male that has to mow the
lawn and fix the car. Whenever
anything goes wrong, whenever
anything needs to be done, it's
always the male that has to do
it."

"And what do we get for
holding the society together.
Well, I'll tell you. We get
twenty years chopped off our
lives, that's what we get. We
get ulcers, heart attacks,
nervous breakdowns, and
damned little thanks from
anybody."

Three thousand men
fervently nodded their
approval.

"Well, my friends, I've just
about had it. The time has
come to end the hellish
pressure that sends us to an
early grave. Pressure, pressure,
pressure. Haven't we got
enough to worry about
without worrying about getting
an erection!"

The listeners were excited.
The chant "Male Power, Male
Power" echoed throughout the
auditorium. Nearly five
minutes passed before the
President could once again
speak.

"Yes, my brothers, we've
had enough. The time has
come for this overt sexism to
cease The time has come to go
limp. It's the only way to go."

That did it. The IMP
brothers leaped out of their
seats and stormed about the hall. It
was a moment of total
ecstasy – uncontrolled,
irrepressible bliss.

But, like all good things, this
good thing soon fizzled out.
The rest of the meeting was,
for the most part, anti climatic.
Even the laudatory speech
delivered by the President of
Charlottesville ZPG failed to
elicit a response.

When the speeches finally
ended, the members, realizing
the necessity of spreading the
word, worked their way
through the swaggering studs,
the strong armed women, and
proceeded to paint every
building, every set of steps, on
the Grounds.