In my long, long years toiling around the publishing industry, I've found that women simply don't stick to the writing with the same fervor that men do.
When you're indiscriminate in allowing people to post, the loudest and emptiest voices invariably drown out everyone else.
I'm developing a mild rash at the idea of "plugging" anything, because it's not how I roll.
Here's an easy one: "Race is an entirely social construct." No, it's partially one, depending on how any given society seeks to define it and its implications. But there are basic things such as skin color and hair texture. Even a Martian who'd had no exposure to human "social constructs" would be able to spot those differences. But no Martian, as hard as he tried, could point at a "culture" or to "equality." Those are the social constructs. Those can't be measured in the same way as human DNA.
I don't think it's entirely paranoid to suspect that one day, you won't be able to so much as question the primary tenets of anti-racism without going to jail.
The leftist drive for control is insatiable.
Governments throughout the English-speaking sphere are creating and then ratcheting the torque on "hate-speech" laws with frightening eagerness.
It amazes me that some people who ordinarily can recognize autocratic bullying, tacky sloganeering, and - especially - camp value are unable to spot it in this Hate Scare that grips the Western world.
Anti-racist propaganda is relentless and inescapable, as if the propagandists fear that if they shut up about it for a second, they'd instantly become racists themselves.
My crazy parents and those crazy Catholic nuns didn't do a good job of forcing me to keep the Ten Commandments, but they kept me forever fixated on the very idea of a taboo.
Equality is a nice idea, but it's entirely impossible to prove.
You could paper the globe with evidence that there are demonstrable cognitive and physical disparities between what are crudely called human "races." But you could fit all the evidence of innate equality on your pinkie fingernail with room to spare.
Different groups in different areas developed different traits to assure their survival.
To think that humans evolved from lower species BUT the evolutionary process somehow came to a halt and we all arrived at the finish line simultaneously is to embrace a fiction possibly more implausible than Christianity.
What's absolutely impossible to prove is the idea of innate and everlasting equality.
I don't believe that human ethnic groups are equal, and I believe that's fairly easy to prove.
One day scientists will more fully understand the chemistry and neuro-circuitry that differentiates love from lust. I couldn't begin to explain the mechanics, but I know that they feel differently.
Plenty of people have bad divorces, but few of them end up with cancer, imprisonment, and public scorn. In the dark, rolling, treacherous wake of that sunken ship, the last thing I sought was a "relationship" or, heaven forbid, marriage.
In contrast to how my father treated me, I won't hit him, I won't call him evil, I'll give him affection, and I'll pay attention to him.
You truly need to witness me goo-gooing and coo-cooing and making up goofy little songs to glean a full appreciation of how nauseating I can be. This is another instance where things seemingly don't add up - how can this vile, hateful, violent, misogynist, racist, loathsome, repugnant, worthless, reprehensible subhuman be so insanely tender and kind to little doggies and kitty-cats?
Anyone who's ever had the misfortune of seeing me interact with house pets knows I have a wickedly strong paternal instinct bordering on the maternal.
I don't think fatherhood's changed me so much as it's conjured protective instincts I've had all along.
When I write, I strain with every wizened fibre of my weathered frame to analyze every possible angle of any given subject.
I never want to think or write about the topic again when I'm finished with it.
My oldest brother was stabbed thirty to forty times and strangled to death with his own belt when I was eight years old. Much of my life has been pockmarked with violence. So I had a natural interest in the topic, along with a strong home-field advantage.
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