It comes in fits and starts and refuses to be put down any other way.
And then I remember that this is my blog and my memory dump and can be as rough and sporadic as I like it to be.
My self-professed misanthropy is far more accepted than my burgeoning self-professed feminism. The up-until-now seldom professed feminist leanings met with “but you’re not a man-hater.”
Well, no. But if the seven hundred and thirty-one pages of seminal (snicker...) feminist work authored by Mlle. De Beauvoir and awaiting my attention is indeed persuasive on the subject of female as The Other then, why yes I am a misanthrope and naturally, a man-hating feminist.
A girl is raped by her classmate.
Unwilling to return to class and see her rapist, she must drop the class but it’s too late in the semester to do that. Withdraw for the semester and explain to her parents why, or fail the class and do the same.
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I remember reading about how in certain parts of Asia and in Macedonia, people use cormorants to catch fish.
The fisherman uses a ring or tie on the bird's neck so it won't be able to swallow the fish it catches.
Every seventh fish the fisherman has to give to the cormorant or else the bird will stop fishing.
And if I remember correctly, after a few years, the cormorant won't fish for the fisherman any more.
The cormorant would rather starve than lose all but the seventh fish.
Except maybe that last part isn't true.
The fisherman uses a ring or tie on the bird's neck so it won't be able to swallow the fish it catches.
Every seventh fish the fisherman has to give to the cormorant or else the bird will stop fishing.
And if I remember correctly, after a few years, the cormorant won't fish for the fisherman any more.
The cormorant would rather starve than lose all but the seventh fish.
Except maybe that last part isn't true.
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