[b]Gloria Steinem
…hate generalizes, love specifies…[/b]
Or, more specifically, in general they do.
But why didn’t you leave? Why didn’t you take my sister and go to New York? she would say it didn’t matter, that she was lucky to have my sister and me. If I pressed hard enough, she would add, If I’d left, you never would have been born. I never had the courage to say: But you would have been born instead.
One is born, the other isn’t. What then is the lesson learned?
In truth, we don’t know which of our acts in the present will shape the future. But we have to behave as if everything we do matters. Because it might.
Indeed. I’m sure that’s why we’re all here. Not counting me of course.
Surrealism is the triumph of form over content.
Let’s run that by Anthony Scaramucci.
Only women could bleed without injury or death; only they rose from the gore each month like a phoenix; only their bodies were in tune with the ululations of the universe and the timing of the tides. Without this innate lunar cycle, how could men have a sense of time, tides, space, seasons, movement of the universe, or the ability to measure anything at all? How could men mistress the skills of measurement necessary for mathematics, engineering, architecture, surveying—and so many other professions? In Christian churches, how could males, lacking monthly evidence of Her death and resurrection, serve the Daughter of the Goddess? In Judaism, how could they honor the Matriarch without the symbol of Her sacrifices recorded in the Old Ovariment? Thus insensible to the movements of the planets and the turning of the universe, how could men become astronomers, naturalists, scientists—or much of anything at all?
Is she missing the point or are men?
Like the spider spinning its web, we create much of the outer world from within ourselves. The universe is a joint product of the observer and the observed.
“I” and “we” out in a particular world. She has her version, I have mine.