The game was lost and it was always lost under bourgeois notions of liberalism. For once, women were demoted from their aristocratic place. Sure, some women got to be in the ascendency. They were promoted to the level of at least being abstractly equal, even if the practical dimensions of equality were undermined by the notion that only men were truly rational and that women, embodying the human dimension of being the split-in-half side, were only ever rampantly emotional. And then there was the idea that you shouldn't fight, as that demotes you to the rampantly emotional level. Then bourgeois society exerted its final blow to aristocratic sensibilities by making-it-so that children at least could represent an all-encompassing innocence, which grown adults had to grovel to.
So that's what happened. The idea of disgust gravitated away from being disgusted with those who would not stand up for themselves and their friends. It wandered off and soiled itself. It pooed its brookies.
Then we all stood by and cheered and proclaimed the wonderful innocence of it all.
I've had people call me, on the phone, with shit on their faces, to say they would not stand up for me when "a customer" (who knows what customer, nobody I know, nobody anybody knows deeply or in any intimate way) "complained" about something vague that had crawled up their buttocks. I've had people I've "known" for years shake their heads gravely and proclaim their inability to help when I have asked them to at least give me some MORAL support when patriarchy was beating down. They've told me, very, very gravely indeed, that there is nothing anyone can do about it. It's just he way life is. Sometimes life hands out to us our beatings.
Still others have smeared shit on the faces to tell me (after a tremendous number of years) that really, after all, they cannot understand my point of view. Perhaps they think I am a little infant. So they will rub gorgeous, slimy and grotesque shit into their eyes to prove it.
So the game, was lost, and I being a Rhodesian infant, always knew it, in the basement of my spine.
Of course I can SEE there is grandeur in allowing the tall cream cake to fall from your hands, in allowing the ice-cream to topple from its crispy wafer, if only it is to prove to others, "Your posse is no longer here to save you -- so suck on that super idea of your crispy wafer ice-cream and the nicely decorated cake you had been promised. Also suck on the shit that's all over my face. Enjoy the delicious grandeur of it. I might not be able to put anything up, but I can sure bring something DOWN."
So that's what happened. The idea of disgust gravitated away from being disgusted with those who would not stand up for themselves and their friends. It wandered off and soiled itself. It pooed its brookies.
Then we all stood by and cheered and proclaimed the wonderful innocence of it all.
I've had people call me, on the phone, with shit on their faces, to say they would not stand up for me when "a customer" (who knows what customer, nobody I know, nobody anybody knows deeply or in any intimate way) "complained" about something vague that had crawled up their buttocks. I've had people I've "known" for years shake their heads gravely and proclaim their inability to help when I have asked them to at least give me some MORAL support when patriarchy was beating down. They've told me, very, very gravely indeed, that there is nothing anyone can do about it. It's just he way life is. Sometimes life hands out to us our beatings.
Still others have smeared shit on the faces to tell me (after a tremendous number of years) that really, after all, they cannot understand my point of view. Perhaps they think I am a little infant. So they will rub gorgeous, slimy and grotesque shit into their eyes to prove it.
So the game, was lost, and I being a Rhodesian infant, always knew it, in the basement of my spine.
Of course I can SEE there is grandeur in allowing the tall cream cake to fall from your hands, in allowing the ice-cream to topple from its crispy wafer, if only it is to prove to others, "Your posse is no longer here to save you -- so suck on that super idea of your crispy wafer ice-cream and the nicely decorated cake you had been promised. Also suck on the shit that's all over my face. Enjoy the delicious grandeur of it. I might not be able to put anything up, but I can sure bring something DOWN."
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