Yesterday, at work, with a regular client - a man in his sixties who always greatly appreciates my literary advice - I was having a chat about climate change and the various related issues.
At one point I talk about overpopulation and the discussion shifts to yes / no children.
I never go into too much detail about my cocks - nor those of others - on issues like this, so I solved it with a generic "I don't have any".
So he, I also believe in total good faith and believing he was paying me a compliment, exclaimed "Think again! With these maternal hips you have! You are the prototype of maternal female beauty".
Today I discovered that since I have no children, I implicitly do not have a purpose in life nor a way to use my time and therefore I can sacrifice myself for the company and "work 24 hours a day" (sigh)
There would be many things to say about it, of how the problem is not the men themselves, but the system they have created; how apart from the numerical disproportion, within the system there is a certain homogeneity of intent; how it is perfectly indifferent whether power is acted upon by a man or a woman because the woman, in order to snatch that power from the hands of a man, has somehow introjected the system better than him; and a thousand other things, but I don't want them anymore now.
Any wave of demand, if it acts within the capitalist-patriarchal system, has no chance of changing the present.
The whole fuckin 'system is wrong.
For many men a woman is still just a body. A body to be used sexually or to have children
But are we still living in the nineteenth century?
THE PRODIGY OF IDEAS 