Weaker gender what now?
My much loved Godfather came up from London for a visit this holiday.
I am always glad to see my Godfather. To me he is the beacon of creativity, the pilgrim of passion as he strives for his great love of Art, his travels taking him all over the world, and this magic reflected in the lens of his camera. To me he is the one true link i have to freedom in this otherwise twisted and conformist town.
Anyhoo~ Over a...different Christmas lunch with my family, mum's American friends, and of course the Godfather, (of Indian food. Don't ask) he told unto us one story of his home city, the beautiful (and pigeon infested) London.
He said that he had been walking in the streets one night, something ridiculous like one in the morning or something. This in itself is not a particularly wise, nor credible move, however events brought him thus and he stuck to the slightly more lit roads and kept his wits about him.
However he became awair that someone was walking behind him. He looked ahead and saw someone in front.
Now, Godfather is a smart man and realised that he was in deep shit.
Sure enough the two people stopped, he was trapped. One was a man, the other, he was surprised to realise, was the most petite, and small of woman.
The man asked him for change, of which he had none. The man asked him if he had money on him, he did not.
Suddenly, shockingly, the woman raised a fist and socked him right in the face, causing my dear Godfather to go hurtling to the cold ground.
Now here i pause the story. Even though i love my Godfather dearly, and therefore his well-being and safety are high on my priority list, i could not help but feel a glimmer of...
Pride.
I mean, how many people say that, oh it's not our fault, we, being women, are simply born the weaker of the two genders? How many stories apologise for depicting us as small, frail beings, who, no matter how feisty and spirited they may be, are still unable to overpower a man, because he is a man, and she. Not so much.
Well. I say, Fuck you, random patronising person!! Fuck. You.
Anyway, the dynamic duo, much to my horror, began to fumble and ravage Godfather's pockets, ripping out his bus pass.
Another woman happened across the happy scene.
My Godfather, curled apon himself to protect his body (and probably his camera...probably just trying to save the camera) from the assault, called apon this passer by for help.
He was promptly ignored.
In the moment of distraction, my Godfather pulled himself to his feet, whipped his bus pass from his attackers hand and sprinted for the passer by, safety in numbers, as they say.
Silence ensued as they walked under the flickering streetlamps in the dead of the night. However the pause was broken when she spoke up.
She asked him if he had a pound. He did not.
She asked him if he had a fag. He did not.
Finally, she looked up into my Godfather's tired, grey eyes and asked him if he wanted to 'do business'.
My Godfather had stumbled across a prostitute.
I don't think he told her he was gay.
***
And that's it. Just a little tug on the general public's conscience there. You may, if you are so inclined, mutter angrily about the lack of loyalty human kind can show for its fellow human when in obvious distress and calling out for help. You may shake your fists at the individuals who would be so cold as to leave a man on the ground and in danger. However, i would like to focus the spotlight of shame onto the biologists and the section, I don't know how large or small, that roll over and accept this as fact. The supposed fact that no matter what, girls are simply not biologically stronger than their masculine counterparts.
Screw you.
We females can take you down.
Screw You.
I am always glad to see my Godfather. To me he is the beacon of creativity, the pilgrim of passion as he strives for his great love of Art, his travels taking him all over the world, and this magic reflected in the lens of his camera. To me he is the one true link i have to freedom in this otherwise twisted and conformist town.
Anyhoo~ Over a...different Christmas lunch with my family, mum's American friends, and of course the Godfather, (of Indian food. Don't ask) he told unto us one story of his home city, the beautiful (and pigeon infested) London.
He said that he had been walking in the streets one night, something ridiculous like one in the morning or something. This in itself is not a particularly wise, nor credible move, however events brought him thus and he stuck to the slightly more lit roads and kept his wits about him.
However he became awair that someone was walking behind him. He looked ahead and saw someone in front.
Now, Godfather is a smart man and realised that he was in deep shit.
Sure enough the two people stopped, he was trapped. One was a man, the other, he was surprised to realise, was the most petite, and small of woman.
The man asked him for change, of which he had none. The man asked him if he had money on him, he did not.
Suddenly, shockingly, the woman raised a fist and socked him right in the face, causing my dear Godfather to go hurtling to the cold ground.
Now here i pause the story. Even though i love my Godfather dearly, and therefore his well-being and safety are high on my priority list, i could not help but feel a glimmer of...
Pride.
I mean, how many people say that, oh it's not our fault, we, being women, are simply born the weaker of the two genders? How many stories apologise for depicting us as small, frail beings, who, no matter how feisty and spirited they may be, are still unable to overpower a man, because he is a man, and she. Not so much.
Well. I say, Fuck you, random patronising person!! Fuck. You.
Anyway, the dynamic duo, much to my horror, began to fumble and ravage Godfather's pockets, ripping out his bus pass.
Another woman happened across the happy scene.
My Godfather, curled apon himself to protect his body (and probably his camera...probably just trying to save the camera) from the assault, called apon this passer by for help.
He was promptly ignored.
In the moment of distraction, my Godfather pulled himself to his feet, whipped his bus pass from his attackers hand and sprinted for the passer by, safety in numbers, as they say.
Silence ensued as they walked under the flickering streetlamps in the dead of the night. However the pause was broken when she spoke up.
She asked him if he had a pound. He did not.
She asked him if he had a fag. He did not.
Finally, she looked up into my Godfather's tired, grey eyes and asked him if he wanted to 'do business'.
My Godfather had stumbled across a prostitute.
I don't think he told her he was gay.
***
And that's it. Just a little tug on the general public's conscience there. You may, if you are so inclined, mutter angrily about the lack of loyalty human kind can show for its fellow human when in obvious distress and calling out for help. You may shake your fists at the individuals who would be so cold as to leave a man on the ground and in danger. However, i would like to focus the spotlight of shame onto the biologists and the section, I don't know how large or small, that roll over and accept this as fact. The supposed fact that no matter what, girls are simply not biologically stronger than their masculine counterparts.
Screw you.
We females can take you down.
Screw You.