The Evolution of a Holiday: From Executing a Priest to Being Terrified of Sex
Obviously, no one sends a greeting card to honor the martyrdom of some dude who was interrogated (and likely tortured - it was Rome and he was a Christian priest) and killed (probably in some really grotesque and humiliating fashion - again, Rome). I'm not sure it would do to have children in elementary schools cutting out construction paper implements of torture or crayon drawings of a cat being stoned to death.
What Price For A Cultural Paradigm Shift?
If the Future is Female, I hope it isn’t Margaret Thatcher, the women behind the Tokyo Rose broadcasts, or Susan Smith (who drowned her children and claimed it was done by an anonymous black man.) I hope the Female Future isn’t Aileen Wuornos, Imelda Marcos, or Eva Braun.
The Metric of Judging an Apology
My grandfather once told me that anyone who demands an apology will never accept one. He added that those who deserve and are open to an apology rarely ask for one.
I Believe... [George W. is Enjoying the Trumpster Fire]
...that, if nothing else, at least the ineffectual pile of runny dogshit that is the Donald Trump presidency has managed to rehabilitate the image of poor, dimwitted George W.
Make NOT Doing the Wrong Thing a Habit
"Me, too."
Following the explosive revelation of something everyone already knew about—the serial abuse upon countless women in Hollywood by Harvey Weinstein—the simple request online was for any woman who had experienced sexual harassment or assault to respond with “Me, too.”
The numbers of women who typed those two words was harrowing and maddening.
Most men online were either silent (that was my response) or typed in response “I believe you.”
Neither the declaration of contextless assault nor the insincere blanket belief is particularly helpful. It is the activism of the internet—looks good but generally doesn’t amount to much.
I was 13 years old in 1979. My mother had been married a couple of times by then and I had witnessed my first step-father, Dennis Coley, routinely beat my mother with his fists, with a belt, with a cast iron skillet. In terms of toxic masculine behavior, I had a front row seat to the freak show.
One would think that being audience to that would have an effect.