There’s heat again and hammering again, just the very combo you hope for on a Monday morning.
Oh yay!
But on the very nice side of things, thank you so much, Deb, for the coffees! You must have read my bleary soul all the way from over there. They are very welcome as I gulp down what is left of this one. I really appreciate it, you’re always such a steadfast friend. Thank you.
And back to Monday. Yes, I’m afraid, we must.
Yesterday an obnoxious man died. Or at least we found out, he actually died on Saturday, reportedly of an aortic aneurysm, so sorry to the people winding conspiracy yarns. For some reason, though, the FBI was swarming his house after.
People have ideas about that too.
What I will remember most about him before I, in the very close future, forget he ever existed, was his purple-red face as he ranted about the indignity of a woman with the gall to question the integrity of a white man who likes beer.
I mean you can kind of see where the cardiovascular disease came from.
Like do a meditation once in a while and and eat an apple.
Point being I won’t falsely mourn, or even pretend that I was bothered by the news. He was here, he’s gone, may there never be another like him.
It’s amazing how frequently the response to a woman sharing her trauma at the hands of a man is “well women lie.”
And men don’t?
How is that never the retort? It should be.
Every single time.
Men in those situations, being faced with the women they’ve “allegedly” harmed, have a greater motivation to lie about what happened than a woman does to make it up and get the kind of additional abuse women get for speaking out about these things.
Men lie.
Men lie ALL THE TIME.
Especially when it helps them to avoid consequences for their actions.
Flip the script, my friends, flip the script.
Sometimes, when I really want to punish myself, I imagine what a world without such men would be like. Punish because it’s so unobtainable, but so incredibly beautiful.
But they pop up like noxious weeds, generation after generation, desperate for wealth, power, and control.
They don’t stay where they’re planted, either. They travel, spreading their slimy tendrils wherever they can reach.
What a world.
Anyway, that’s it for me on this very Monday Monday. There’s a lull in the hammering I am determined to enjoy.
Have a great day.
A Bit to Read 
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