“While the rest of the species is descended from apes, redheads are descended from cats.”
— Mark Twain
It has come to my attention through various news outlets that women are no longer looking for redheaded sperm. This is a travesty. Not only because I plan to push out a cattle farm of redheaded babies, but also because we are losing a major world population. Redheads are going extinct, much like our friends the Dinosaurs and the Dodo birds. Wouldn’t YOU want to live in Jurassic Park, but unfortunately you’ve been unable to make your wishes of riding a pterodactyl come true because you’re forced to accept that meteors have crushed your childhood science dreams. Like meteors, sperm banks and women who are anti-freckle, anti-sunburn, anti-dungeon and dragon loving children are killing off the redheads.
According to the Oxford Hair Foundation, Redheads will have died out by 2060. That’s only 49 years from now, folks. If you have fears, thanks to the Mayans, that the world will be ending next year in December, then you may not be worried about this – but people like me, who plan to have four little mermaid children and four strapping, viking-esque young men, I’m freaking out. I’m in complete and utter devastation. I’m in fear that my children will never, never grow up to be like redheaded Peter Pan. Where will they seek out pixies and fairy dust? Where will they see pirates and jump atop the scalps of crocodiles – teeth larger then baby whales. I’m worried.
Ginger kids steal souls. Thus, why I’m so loathing and self-deprecating, it’s all due to my red highlights, proudly shining in my thick strands from my mother and grandmother and beyond that, ancient myths of Greek and Roman Gods who fought viciously against their opponents. Not to mention the Vikings, with their helmets and horns. (You know the ones who train dragons). Redheads only take up four percent of the World’s population, so we should be considered a gift and not a threat. We’re the underdogs of hair salons around the world. We’re pale and ghostly, featuring often first class in horror movies and villains. Plus, it’s a genetic mutation to be redhead – so we may be one of the few mutants left in the world. With the disappearance of redheads, what will Marvel Comics do with villains? Will they all be blonde and glimmering? I may not be able to conduct lighting, or grow purple wings from my shoulder blades, but I have red hair and therefore I’m a part of a serious group of super-heroes who star in movies and teach three-year old boys how to wrestle.
I just have no idea how Aristotle can give the world a design of the Universe and somehow at the same time call me, “emotionally unhousebroken.” I’m a dog without a leash folks, running free. This is the life of redheads everywhere. All over news broadcasts (mtv) Lindsay Lohan was being arrested and simultaneously being called a “fire crotch” because the fact that she’s a redhead obviously had something to do with her being a crazy person. Yes, she’s freckled. Yes, her pubes are most likely made of that burnt mud color, but that has nothing to do with her behavior…or does it?
Redheads have spanned generations, myths, monarchies, battle ships, wars, Bible stories, etc, for probably the span of time. If it’s around when Jesus is around, and if a redhead is in the Flintstones television show then I refuse to believe we haven’t been around since the dawn of God’s tiny fingers drawing prehistoric suns in the sky.
In Russian tradition, Redheads are crazy and have a fiery temper (true in my case). Even Proverbs warn, “there has never been a saint with red hair.” Adam apparently means red in Hebrew, and Judas (poster boy for malarkey and being a traitor) as well as the poor sack of Mary Magdalene (who gets a bad rap even though she’s awesome) has red hair as well. As far as ancient Christian tradition goes, we sure aren’t too doing well in the totality. It’s too bad Jesus wasn’t a redhead so we could savor that proof that all redheads must be closer to God, or something fictitious and ridiculous. Then, the Ancient Greeks (not to be confused with the Kardashians) believed that Redheads turned into vampires after their death (which frankly if I could be on True Blood, I might just go along with…) Actually, scratch that true blood line, the woman who wrote those books, Harris, has written incessantly against the Catholic Church and her views are not only deplorable, but they are completely inaccurate in my case.
Other Proverbs about redheads:
Then, of course, redheads had to picked on by the Nazi’s…but then again, who wasn’t? Their hate language went a really long way. It was questioned as to whether redheads should even be able to wed because then they may have redheaded children, GOD FORBID. But isn’t everyone scared of having a redheaded child? It’s like being a red head means instant bullying in the world of high school hallways and dress codes. It’s instant nerd-dom isn’t it? You can admit it, I won’t hate you forever and secretly stab a voodoo doll with your name on it deep into the night…(okay that was a bit creepy)…
It seems in the recent news (here, here, here, here, and here) that redheads are no longer wanted in sperm banks. Yes, it is very much like “No Irish Need Apply” but instead we are knocking away the freckled, pale, and easily sunburned skin-tones of the red headed people. Women are no longer looking for the viking, instead they want the brown haired Prince Charming with his ancient comb-over and sharp features. Why? I don’t know either, vikings commandeer ships, at one point they had religiously fought dragons and then somehow tamed them, they had the biggest beards of men anywhere and very shapely mustaches … so, why you wouldn’t want a red headed viking in your bed, doing much more than snuggling – I’m unsure. I’m part of the problem – I’m a blonde and blue eyed type of girl, but I’m also a victim.
“Red hair, sir, in my opinion, is dangerous.”
— P.G. Wodehouse
Even at Sars bachelorette party, I was named, “Ginger Tits.” And up there you’ll see my darling friend Kara – freckles in free reign – with her name tag, “Big Red.”
I think being a red head adds a certain mystique to a woman. My mother’s a fiery red head, as well as my brother. I think, however, male red heads are treated as the dork squad of the US population. Obviously, I can’t speak for other countries – but how often is a redhead a “popular kid?” I know this is totally unfair, but while redheaded girls are a mysterious opportunity to swipe off your bucket list – redheaded boys are shafted with lives full of Dungeons and Dragons and cheese fries. While book character (females) are often awesome, or full of the unexpected: Fancy Nancy, Anne of Green Gables, Madeline, Pippi Longstocking, Hermoine, Glinda the Good Witch (or prissy girl if you read Wicked), Strawberry Shortcake, Magic School Bus Teacher, Amelia Bedelia, Nancy Drew, the Red Queen, Lisbeth Salander (for a modern perspective)…just to name a few. However, most male redheads in books suffer; the Weasley family, the Mad Hatter (clearly the coolest one), Edward Cullen (who gets the girl, but gets cheated on and depressed throughout the tales, Shaggy (Scooby Doo), and I can’t really think of many others. Why do the redhead men always have to be the “funny guy?” Is that why clowns are redheaded?
It’s time I take a stance for the redheaded guy and his lonesome sperm. I feel like I need to make the speech, “Are we not human? Do we not have skin?…”
This is your opportunity girls. We all have a bucket list. It’s time to kiss a redhead. Maybe you’ll get lucky and your redhead will have an Irish accent, and Celtic tattoos, and wear Gaston boots, with white flowing tops that tie with strings across their chest (can you tell my wildest dreams are coming true with the typing of this sentence?)
“Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And eat men like air.”
That’s probably my favorite redheaded quote, and even though Sylvia was blonde and proud, she had spots of red when hair dye (boxed) finally became available. Not only is Sylvia part redhead in her supposed fiery nature, but Emily Dickinson, the worlds lone attic dweller also had red hair. So, all those black and white pictures you see on book jackets of Dickinson with her brown locks, wound at the bottom – are wrong, she was a redhead, full of death poems and slant rhyme. Obviously, her vagina was made of dictionary pages as well. (Am I allowed to say that about Emily Dickenson? I hope so…).
Other famous redheads: Napoleon Bonaparte (ginger shortie), Lucille Ball (got some splainin’ to do), Norma Jean Baker (also known as Marilyn Monroe, mistress to the Kennedy clan and obviously cursed by their death-gene), Tori Amos (I got nothin’), Ginger Spice (I just, for the first time, understood her name. Also, paprika is red..why can’t we be paprika spices)?, Lizzie Borden (hacked her parents due to redheaded craziness…clearly), Cleopatra (ya, those book covers with the Egyptian looking girl…not at all accurate, she was a redhead folks), Thomas Jefferson (inventor, and president), Vincent Van Gogh (chopped off his ear, and it’s little red hairs for the prostitute he loved), Mark Twain (went gray and now everyone uses those photos on his book jackets, even on his stamps, lame), Galileo (because redheads are not only psychic, but star gazers), and me, the obvious choice for winner of the redhead chronicles.
I am a writer, educator and genuine creative living on the coast of NC. Our house is built on sunshine with my husband BJ, dog named Tucker, and our two very sassy cats: Fromage and Jasper.