Dirty Danica

"I can't tell you that I blame them for not believing that we could do it. But when you have 100 guys come through, finding one good one, the odds are a lot better than 100 girls since it takes a lot longer for 100 to come through. The odds are against us. But I grew up with never really using guys as a reference, using drivers as a reference, and if I wasn't fast enough, I wasn't fast enough. That was the most important thing."

Danica made "history" this weekend when she became the first female driver to win an Indy race, pulling ahead to top position in the last three laps of the Japan Indy 300.

I've always respected Danica because she's not afraid to be completely and totally herself--to do exactly what she wants to do regardless of what others say-- which includes the having the courage to be sexy, smart, and feminine while competing in such a cut-throat, dangerous, almost completely male-dominated sport. She wouldn't let marketing teams or the media turn her into a gimmick. She ignored the nay-sayers who said she was selling herself out by posing for sexy photos such as Sports Illustrated's annual swimsuit edition. Those type of feminists-- whom I like to call the "anachra-nazis" because their brand of armpit farming feminazi bullshit is actually promoting hegemonistic butchism, not the freedom and fearlessness of REAL modern feminism-- should have instead celebrated the beautiful irony of the fact that Sport's Illustrated (a magazine with the word SPORTS in the title) for once featured an actual ATHLETE in the swimsuit edition, instead of the orange-juice soaked cotton-ball scarfing, never-broke-a-sweat-outside-a-Gold's-Gym-in-my-life bone scaffold camera jockeys it usually has.

And Today, we can appreciate the delicious irony of Danica acheiving her history-making win in, of all places, the land that feminism forgot: Japan. Just two years ago, Japan's Minister of Health was forced to resign in embarrasment after referring to women as "birthing machines" in a speech. If you watch the video of Danica ascending the steps of the winner's platform to receive her glass-celing shattering shoulder-high trophy, she walks past three Japanese spokesgirl bimbos in cute little mini skirt outfits. The contrast of Danica, in her fire-retardant jumpsuit, strolling past those three vestiges of outdated schauvanism to claim her giant (both in size, and in dollar amount) paycheck makes you wanna pump your fist and scream "Fuck yeah!"--mostly because no one should ever, ever again use the phrase "You go girl", unless you happen to be a 40-year old drag queen... then it's okay.

I have nothing but respect for Danica. The success that she has gained as a 26-year old talented, strong, beautiful woman makes me feel both vindicated and encouraged, and motivated to do more with my thus-far mostly unremarkable life.

The only thing better than her win this weekend were her responses to the press. After thanking her team and her family, and uttering phrases like "finally", she began play down the "victory for feminism" standpoint the media was pushing, saying "I'm a racecar driver. I'm supposed to win races. This is what I'm supposed to be doing."

Go On. Go Watch her win. I promise you'll get chills. And maybe your eyes will even tear up a little bit. But that's okay. Danica showed us that-- it's okay to win an Indy race and then cry about it a little bit.