@Frank Apisa,
Quote:I answer questions, Spendius...and I answer the question asked.
You have won too many fights with a punch bag. Real life antagonists are not to your liking.
It began with the "all men are rapists" mantra of Germaine Greer, on to the debate between her and Mailer in NYC, during which he took his dick out and banged it on the table and then the feminist chant of "romance is rape" and SCUM. (Society for Cutting Up Men). I was flat out at it with singles and marrieds alike at the time. I think marriage is an institution designed to replace slave's shackles.
Your method of dealing with such things would have been to declare Greer repulsive, pompous and pretentious. You would have said she had odd attitudes to her father, hated men, a range of masturbation kit, and was a tortured spirit who you pitied and various other lines in play-pen bullshit designed to assure you that she had no point and was safe to ignore and carry on as before.
I'm made of sterner stuff unfortunately and so I studied her argument because I didn't like the idea that she thought I was a rapist what with her being such a clever young lady and all. It involved force, bribery and hypnosis. I could easily deny the force. The bribery not so easily. The box of chocolates, the buying drinks, the holding open of doors, the cheapo Valentine card were all mentioned by the lesser brigade of romance is rapers and I was well guilty of them all. In fact ROMANCE IS RAPE was a banner, front page headline in a newspaper I saw which had been infiltrated by the Professoress of Women's Studies at a university within the rag's circulation area. So I knocked all that stuff on the head and set out to show my victim's willingness by having them make sacrifices to take advantage of whatever it was they made them for. I had thought of getting them to sign a document but I knew the feminists would say I had used hypnosis on them and was thus invalid and not evidence of compliance. Having them drive a fair distance was my first idea. I ended up having the Chairman of the Planning Committee's wife climb a ladder into a hayloft on the night her husband was making an important speech to local industrialists. In her best bib and tucker. Tight skirt, high heels. I thought that would convince any jury.
Then some jokers released a chart topping single Sergeant Rock is Gonna Help Me make the girls stand in line. Or something like that. And a chap got charged with raping his wife which the traditionalists said was an impossibility because she had agreed in public with her vows. The case changed the law and now we can be charged with raping our wives. In the marital double bed too.
But it was the song. The implication was Greer's hypnosis thing. We men had the whole mind-zap operation geared up to making them think they were missing something, what Julie Burchill referred to as a "little local irritation" in the presence of her ex-husband in a TV discussion, if they were not getting shagged and were probably neurotic as well and generally all screwed up. So they granted compliance under hypnosis.
I couldn't get out of that. And I knew, being well educated, that I couldn't answer it with girl's playground blurtings.
So I became much more objective about the lovely little darlings but I can hear my bath water being run so I'll have to leave off there.
With just time to say that it's all in Jane Austen if you take the trouble to learn to read. She would have loved me because I accepted by then that I was there to be used. And not use.
