This Is About Me. About Me.

There must be some payback from this thankless blogging thingy and I have decided that it's my Thursday fluffy posts in which I tell you what ails me and you listen. If you want these self-centered rants to stop you can pay me. This is called extortion.

OK. Now that is sorted out, let us look at what ails me this week. It's the idea that I'm a reluctant feminist. Really. I look at this feminism business the way a person wanting to redecorate the living-room would look at all the crap on the floor and on the furniture. You need to shovel it out before you can talk about curtains and couches and patterns and colors.

In a similar vein, I need to have the world fixed before I can write about other stuff, the stuff I really do want to write about. Such as a society based on cannibalism or the sexual adventures of a middle-aged librarian in a world where people can smell as well as dogs. THOSE are the great works of genius that I will probably never get to because the world hates on women.

That I think this way doesn't make me only a reluctant feminist but also a crazy megalomaniac one. So it goes.