It isn’t really, but I was just reading through my blog and enjoying it when I inevitably came down to the first entry. I wrote something about the likelihood that only very few people would read it. Well, I was right and I was wrong. Nobody has read it! How close is zero to very few? I have a gut feeling that nothing is almost as distant from few as it is from many; being a different entity altogether. But I don’t have the energy to consider it right now.
Sex change operations are cross-dressing taken to frightening lengths. Mutilating your body surgically to resemble the sex you believe you are is fundamentally the same thing as dressing that way. Since our society is prosperous enough to offer the extreme option of sex change surgery, troubled people who would otherwise have much more limited options, will of course take it. But that doesn’t mean it should be done. If we had a truly gender neutral society then cross dressing wouldn’t be necessary or possible. And neither would sex change; it wouldn’t make any difference. Odd that the most flagrant male to female trannies seem to cleave to the cleavage — their concept of femininity is of the bombshell variety. Such is sexism.
We were fortunate enough to visit Germany a few years ago, staying at a friend’s house in Berlin. One day I was longing for ice cream. We were doing various things all day and I didn’t get a chance to buy myself any. In the evening we wound up in a lively enclave near a train station. We were just walking around, and I saw an ice cream store. I rushed over but it had just that moment closed. Crestfallen I walked away. When we came back to the area a few minutes later the store had miraculously reopened. I told everyone to wait for me, dashed in, and came out with a lovely cone. I took two licks and was just starting to savor it when my ice cream fell to the ground. Husband and older daughter just laughed, younger daughter was sorry for me. But how sorry can you be for an aging woman on a nice vacation who dropped her ice cream? Still, l get tears in my eyes when I remember.
Happy Mother’s Day to all my readers!
That was a little in-joke. I know I don’t have any readers. Thought I’d leave this as a comment but I don’t want to ruin my perfect record of no comments.
It looks more and more like most of us are going to have to live by licking the butts of the rich, who will generously let us consume whatever we find danglling there. Change will be very difficult to bring about since, simply, the very wealthy own the government and won’t permit legislation that genuinely threatens their hegonomy. The idea that municipalities and states daren’t raise taxes on the rich lest god forbid they flee (taking their balls and playing elsewhere) is soon going to make everywhere a tax haven. But, never fear, butt leavings of multibillionaires are very rich and it makes them feel good about themselves when they allow us to live on their shit.
Good movies as movies go, not too stupid. But while watching the searing image of the burning playground I thought how simple minded and exploitative. For just one reason: the bad guys are the machines, not us. Playgrounds burned in Hiroshima and it wasn’t the machines that did it. Do the movies but have the decency to spare us the nuclear playground
I’m waiting for somebody to say “you haven’t ‘changed” so I can reply “yes I have, I put on fresh underwear no more than five years ago.