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It's kind of late, so I won't be long. I'll just put up two nursery rhymes I like and introduce a topic that's been depressing me lately.
Feminism. What happened?
Sometimes I get a little het up about things I care about. The issue of accuracy and non-stereotyping is up there on my list. It's why I can admit to being an apologist for faith, not so much because of any personal beliefs I may have, but simply because I like consistency and, well, people can lose consistency and objectivity when ranting about something they hate. It's the same for a lot of things.
So it does get my goat to hear women my own age trashing feminism. Of course, when you question them further, it's not feminism they dislike, but the anti-men brigade. Well, my dears, so do most of us. Just don't go around saying how much you dislike feminism, especially considering how you have benefitted so much from it. Just say you think the anti-men brigade is stupid. Not feminism. Get it straight.
Six little mice sat down to spin;
Pussy passed by and she peeped in.
What are you doing my little men?
Weaving coats for gentlemen.
Shall I come in and cut off your threads?
No, no Mistress Pussy, you'd bite off our heads.
Oh no, I'll not; I'll help you to spin.
That may be so, but you don't come in.
*
A farmer went trotting upon his grey mare,
Bumpety, bumpety, bump!
With his daughter behind him, so rosy and fair,
Lumpety, lumpety, lump!
A raven cried, Croak! and they all tumbled down,
Bumpety, bumpety, bump!
The mare broke her knees and the farmer his crown,
Lumpety, lumpety, lump!
The mischievous raven flew laughing away,
Bumpety, bumpety, bump!
And vowed he would serve them the same next day,
Lumpety, lumpety, lump!
*
Had lunch with my classics teacher, his wife, my friends classics teacher and her partner, all at my friends house (with another friend). Spilt soup all over myself during the starter course. I, cool as a cucumber, cleaned myself up and got changed. I really deserve a medal, because that was all so embarrassing. Really.
Still, I suppose it's a rite of passage. Heroines in books are always 'splitting' soup down their lovely dresses. I have joined the ranks of queens, I tell you!
Feminism. What happened?
Sometimes I get a little het up about things I care about. The issue of accuracy and non-stereotyping is up there on my list. It's why I can admit to being an apologist for faith, not so much because of any personal beliefs I may have, but simply because I like consistency and, well, people can lose consistency and objectivity when ranting about something they hate. It's the same for a lot of things.
So it does get my goat to hear women my own age trashing feminism. Of course, when you question them further, it's not feminism they dislike, but the anti-men brigade. Well, my dears, so do most of us. Just don't go around saying how much you dislike feminism, especially considering how you have benefitted so much from it. Just say you think the anti-men brigade is stupid. Not feminism. Get it straight.
Six little mice sat down to spin;
Pussy passed by and she peeped in.
What are you doing my little men?
Weaving coats for gentlemen.
Shall I come in and cut off your threads?
No, no Mistress Pussy, you'd bite off our heads.
Oh no, I'll not; I'll help you to spin.
That may be so, but you don't come in.
*
A farmer went trotting upon his grey mare,
Bumpety, bumpety, bump!
With his daughter behind him, so rosy and fair,
Lumpety, lumpety, lump!
A raven cried, Croak! and they all tumbled down,
Bumpety, bumpety, bump!
The mare broke her knees and the farmer his crown,
Lumpety, lumpety, lump!
The mischievous raven flew laughing away,
Bumpety, bumpety, bump!
And vowed he would serve them the same next day,
Lumpety, lumpety, lump!
*
Had lunch with my classics teacher, his wife, my friends classics teacher and her partner, all at my friends house (with another friend). Spilt soup all over myself during the starter course. I, cool as a cucumber, cleaned myself up and got changed. I really deserve a medal, because that was all so embarrassing. Really.
Still, I suppose it's a rite of passage. Heroines in books are always 'splitting' soup down their lovely dresses. I have joined the ranks of queens, I tell you!
blah
(no subject)
But congratulation on the "splitting" soup, maybe your big quest has just started then? ;-)
(no subject)
As for the soup, clearly, my destiny holds great things in store for me!