Woman, the root of all evil

Guys are superior to broads. They are physically stronger. They needed to be. That's nature's way. Broads are superior to guys. They possess the power of motherhood. That's nature's way, too. Am I right?
When broads demand equal rights an' fair shares with guys, they have a cause. When crazy, over-zealous butchoes demand more say-so in this commercial and political society and accuse guys of deliberately screwin' up their progress, then they fight an impossible brawl against an imaginary foe who's not even aware of the conflict.
Let's get this level.
Broads succeeded in their right to vote and should have been given it eons ago. The same goes for equal pay in the same job. But gripes such as these were always too justified to be ignored for long. And instead of broads understanding 'em as inevitable changes in social attitudes, they prefer to judge 'em as preliminary stages to higher aspirations. Which is fine and dandy where the parity is so obvious it's kickin' out to be heard. But to situate a broad in a position simply to balance the genre game only emphasises the desperation of the butchoes. A lot of it's a history thing. Guys who believed a broads place was in the home risked being labelled out of date with the times, an attitude almost prehistoric. But this seems an appropriate place in the big picture at which to begin, 'coz it's about this time where the roots of world society first began. There ain't no apology for anthropology.
So get this; if the family means anything, it means responsibility and the need to secure the continuation of the offspring. Parental guidance an' stuff. Rules need to be set, roles established, cooperation. Families, whether we like it or not, are the bricks of the house that is a nation's society. The moral guidelines in the civilized family, the rules established, reflect the nature of their community. Tribes, clans and families were the birth of societies, and you just don't separate one from the other. The structure of the family thousands, or even hundreds of years ago imposed specific duties for the husband and wife. Differences of responsibility were apparent before children, but they were a hell of a lot more defined when husband and wife became father and mother. This stuff ain't no pic 'n mix- you were either one or the other. An' this shows the craziness of the guy 'n gal sex-war thing, 'coz how the hell can you judge someone guilty or oppressed in a conflict when they don't even have the choice away from fate to decide their sexual identity?
Anywayze. As the family and society are inseperable, so is nature and the family. A pattern which has evolved successfully since pre-history can hardly be expected to snuggle up nice 'n easy with those who consider their stand contemporary within a contemporary age. Guys, in leading the family, are only part of it, however big a noise, an' the world is just a larger family. The society which developed from the amalgamation of many families is now only a much larger society constantly fed by a liberal point of view which happens to be the fashion of the day. We are told by the politicians that we live in a democracy, and this social condition greatly influences the kind of consumerism that has resulted from it. The female is dead, long live the woman. She has broken free from man's concept of her. She don't wanna' escape from the world according to him but wants to have a share in the spoils. The big media mouths, eager to shove each other aside to show the world that they were the pioneers of this great modern revolution, found it profitable to popularise this image, and so a transformation occurred.
Remember the old movies? Time was, you'd only see a broad as a supplement to the main theme of the story. The guys would often be the story and the broads only went along for the ride as long as the ingredient of romance 'n stuff accompanied her. It guaranteed her value, ensured her presence. As guys have continued to progress to better ways of living, the broad, through the advancement in domestic technology, has learnt to use her free time to fulfil her own ambitions. It ain't enough now for the sexes to be equal. It has to be seen that the so-called weaker sex is not only able to reach the levels of achievement of those considered physically and mentally superior, but even to surpass them. The strength in the new broad shows itself no longer through her ability to raise and care for a family, but through the awareness of herself, the freedom to explore the potential of sexual and career demands.
It would be takin' the easy way out to believe all this is the child of a certain cultural revolution, some kinda new-born perspective demanded from an antique way of livin', but to do that would be a mistake. Sure, technology might have created the child, but what nurtured it was the fantasy of the media's entrepreneurs. However, in their over-eagerness to appear the great champion of sexual equality they sometimes look the real jerks they are.
In a newspaper recently perused ran the headline, 'Woman Leads The Way!' , highlighting a broad's promotion to the big table of Chief Executive in a company boardroom usually associated with the male of the species. The very fact that this paper mentioned so spectacularly something which would have been more beneficial to broads had it been reported more composedly, proves that it is a male dominated society! They blew the chance to mention, almost as a normal statistic, an event that really oughta' be commonplace if equality between guys an' broads really is as established as they would like us to believe. It comes from the same place as the condescending commercials with the fragile young housewife doing the wallpapering to insinuate that even a woman can do it.
And as for recruitment, gimme me a break. No matter how many struggle for the rights of women, there will always be those who'll flash their titties for the magazines, fall in love an' do anything for it or get married and have kids an' all the responsibilities they bring. An' if that's imprisonment then they've been lockin' themselves up for years. Or maybe fallin' into true love is Sappho's worst scenario. And when the Titanic went down, countless women were further imprisoned by having their lives saved thanks to all that macho/courtesy discrimination crap.
Truth is, you can't tell women to be free. There ain't no conversions and you don't get 'em while they're young. If broads really are convinced they're free, then they resemble contented Christians who know there is a God simply because they believe it.
Broads must find it hard to locate that balance between liberated woman and seductive lady. And it appears they ain't found it yet. As one judge said when trying an attempted rape case; never before have women dressed so provocatively yet complained so vehemently when harassed. Paglia herself said if you're willing to advertise, you'd better be prepared to sell. An' what about that prostitute who complained to the cops about being' raped by a client? The charge shouldna' been rape- it shoulda' been theft, you morons! If the guy didn't pay for it, then jail the sucker for stealin'. Are they really sayin' a broad who screws strangers for a livin' an' then is forced to do it can be humiliated the same as say, a young housewife? Get outa' here! An' all the sisters will say yeah, well have you ever been raped? An' I'll say no I ain't, but neither have I been willin' to sell my body to any pervert who wants it.
An' while we're on the subject of sexy sex, watching guys chase broads is a primitive yet instructive way of understanding better the real intentions of people as male and female, and, more importantly, their position in the game of reproduction. Only the dumb guys believed they were the hunters in pursuit of their mate. It's gotta' be common knowledge by now that that broads are the hunting species by their more subtle approach. And ain't all broads masqueraders simply because they are broads? They wear make-up to both enhance their beauty and to conceal their plainness. By any other name, this is called disguise.
They are wearin' paint on their faces to create an impression. They put red on their lips, black on their eyebrows and eyelashes, light-brown on their cheeks. They pin metal decoration in their ears, hang beads and ornaments from their necks and put trinkets, bands and tiaras in their hair. Their hair is often false colour, dyed blond if they are truly black, black if they are truly brown. It is up in buns, down in plaits or out in perms or pigtails. So it follows that with simulation in appearance comes simulation in behaviour.
Where spider puts up web invisible, broad puts up disposition invisible. Sure, while the beauty may be apparently obvious, hiding the character is harder work. So the broad needs to pretend that she's not the kind that wakes up in the mornin' bad tempered, who has bowel problems, who is overweight. She is tryin' to be the nearest thing she thinks her lover wants her to be. Every guy will discover the genuine broad some three or four months after he's found the false one he was first attracted to. If most of the good original bits are still there throughout the relationship, they might be lucky enough to endure the problems ahead. But how many times have you heard one of an arguing couple say 'I don't love you anymore- you've changed.' Think again, sucker. They ain't changed. You're just seeing the real article. An' it works both ways.
Some guys like to impress with the bravado and macho shit, and the broads will always say, "Oh, that ain't what matters! I like the gentle, considerate man, not afraid to show emotion, willing to be my best friend as well as my lover!" Don't buy that bullshit- that's just broads simulating again. The truth is, they'll go where their instincts tell 'em. Put a broad on an island with a hundred men who resemble Adonis and one guy who's a bespectacled seven-stone rat-catcher an' she'll turn to the rat-man for no other reason than he's a contrast. She might be certain of her choice, but she won't have a clue why. Logic ain't involved.
Another problem for a broad is that no matter now she wants to portray herself to a guy, he will have his own thoughts on the matter. He'll screw her more times in his head than he ever will in his bed. And he'll screw her how he likes. Broads ain't as free as they think. They think because they tell jokes about sex an' stuff that they're up there with the kings of crude. Broads might make little dirty jokes in the office amongst themselves, but they are still feminine enough to know that it don't go down too sweetly with guys on a first date who are expecting a completely different female. Equality in vulgarity ain't on 'coz some men like broads to take them away from the knowledge of menstrual cycles and saggin' breasts. And the ones who take them further are the sweeter broads.
The affiliation between the sexes and the nature of things is even more proven when you consider the act of copulation.
The broad has the genitals that, when she is horny, can only be receptive. The opening of her legs is an entrance in itself an' if they remain closed, nothing worthwhile occurs. Legs open on a broad means invitation, an indecent exposure that is carefully avoided when not dressed in denims. Hence the effeminate pose of one leg before another when sitting for a photo in say, swim wear, or the crossed legs under the skirt while sitting in a chair. The ankles of a broad are her first vulva.
The genitals of a guy on the other hand, are projective and can be said to be offensive- 'an you can take that any way you like. The broad has something he wants, is something he wants, and he has to act the nice guy before he can be the animal. It don't matter how affectionate or romantic the kissin' stuff is before the bed games. Love an' selfish lust look practically the same three hours later under the sheets. Each sex also reflects in their behaviour to one another the purpose of their genitals. The broad waitin' an' wonderin' whether to allow the guy access. The guy eager and direct, talkin' of how pretty she is and how much he needs her, which all things considered at the time, is probably true. Guys are often more honest even when they think they're lying. This temptation an' persistence runaround is the dustiest game in history, potentially good fun an' ridiculous.
There was once a butchoe-boffin who wrote a book about a world without guys not being impossible. I guess she musta' come into this life through some powerful sexual accessory with extra strength batteries because as far as I know there ain't nothin' walkin' in shoe leather that didn't come from the union of sperm and ova. This dumb broad made the wrong career move 'coz she missed out big time on an opportunity to write a great Sci-fi novel. How the reality of cold, hard life must weigh on these poor ladies. There we all are, thinkin' that by enterin' our allocated urinals and conformin' to the established style of relevent attire that we are only makin' life easier for ourselves, when in fact these differences are brutal and provocative reminders to Miss I-wanna-rule-the-world that there is a real war on here. As much as these broads would love to disassociate the effect of themselves an' their bodies on guys, it can't be done. Lust an' dirty thoughts work far better in silence and on a personal level. And broads can't stop it even if they cover themselves up with the grubbiest pair of overalls from a car mechanic's wash basket.
You can hear shite from Shere Hite all day, but unlike the mythical race of Amazon warrior broads who sacrificed a breast in order to be able to use the bow more efficiently, not many girls today would be willin' to go half as far to be equal. We were mapped out long before we breathed air an' you're either a Plug or a Socket. Change those rules and the broads really would be able to keep the toilet seat down for good. When established titles such as 'Chairman' has to be changed to 'Chair-person'', you start questioning whether it's done for the advancement of the modern outlook or the restraining of guy's presumptions. So let's dig up a little dirt about where all this liberation started.
The Sixties was a time that saw the beginning of the end for conventional cultural existence in this green and pleasant land and the start of a love-in from which we're still clearing up the used condoms and soiled nappies. Today's older society is the geriatric of a once optimistic world. He took the drugs an' now comes the cold turkey. The female emancipation of the time was encouraged by near full employment during an' after the war. And with all the girls 'doing their bit' for the nation, they'd had a taste of solid employment with solid pay. So after the war, with her full or part-time job, housewife changed from bread maker to bread winner. It was a psychological as much as a material advantage. No need to wait subserviently during the washing up while the man of the house counted out the housekeeping allowance. Now Mum had her own pocket money. In addition to this, Pops had to look after the kids while she was at work. And as any mother will be glad to tell you, that ain't the same as playing with 'em an hour before bedtime just to help lose the guilt when he thinks he ain't seein' enough of 'em lately.
But there was life in the old marriage dog yet. Wedlock was still an institution respected and the pattern wasn't really that disrupted. After all, you worked hard on your marital contract if you were aware that to end it you had to go to court to explain your reasons. Could be humiliating, not to mention expensive. One party needed to be 'responsible' for the separation and that kinda' meant winners and losers. But Christmas then came early for the non-committed in the 1969 Divorce Reform Act, and it had in its magic bottle a kind of opt-out clause. To separate, you simply required evidence of an irretrievable breakdown of marriage after a period of two years. Somehow the marriage vows don't have the same ring of permanence when you have the security of an open back door should matters get a little difficult. Why waste time workin' hard tryin' to save somethin' when it's easier to just cut 'n run? An' there was all those romantics thinkin' that the whole idea of marriage was to endure it's problems, the bad times that are necessary to the experience that strengthens the bonding. Get real, suckers!
Anywayze, the outcome of this Divorce Act was the beginning of the one-parent family, at this time the drip before the flood. And the pill, ready to replace the diamond as the girl's best friend, loosened knicker elastic like nothing else. The great advantage of this contraceptive to married or engaged couples not yet ready for children seemed a negligible benefit compared to the freedom it provided to women eager to symbolise and exercise their new independence. As a precaution to unwanted pregnancy it was necessary. As a licence to playing the field it was vital. Broads now had control over birth. No stretch marks for Georgie Girl if she didn't want 'em. An' if she got careless and missed takin' it, don't worry. Another safety net against the hard fall to male slavery had been fastened with the help of the 1967 Abortion Act. If she don't want the kid, then screw you Jack, it's my body. But if motherhood appeals to her, then that guy by Christ better face up to his responsibilities. At her whim perishes not just the baby but a potential family. There's your liberated broad in all her glory and power.
So armed with the trident of The Abortion Act, the Divorce Act and the magic tablet, broads could, over a matter of a few years, be free from husband, children and the dated obligation to have either. This was such a fresh and agreeable time. The Broads were happy to burn their bras and the guys were happy to see 'em do it because when broads become more liberated, it don't just mean equality in wages and the same retirement age, it means easier lays, more screws and more dirty fun. You won't hear of any guy refusing sex on the grounds that it contributes to a permissive society, which in turn leads to grave social problems into the next decade. A guy thinks he's the only man alive when those knickers slip off.
The image of the independent broad, free from what was once a predictable future, is one everybody now recognises. More of 'em are going to University today than ever before. Fifty years ago, there didn't seem any point in a father educating his little girl to degree standard if she was only going to end up getting married. This intellectual liberation has come from the same direction and at the same time as the sexual one. The graduate who has achieved her grade and travels off to her new executive post in New York has the same thing as the young mother who lives alone in a one bedroom flat in the slums of the inner-city: independence. The fact that the first one probably couldn't cook an egg, or the other read a book don't matter. Both lives stand as a sign of the times and as a contrast to each other. The big problem for broads is that they were liberated at both ends of their body at the same time. And the repercussions of a liberated vagina are very different from those of a liberated mind. Babies and people only come from one place and every broad is a prospective mother- unless she says no. Guys can aim as hard as they want, but unless they get to that stage where the shot is worth any chance at all, then they might as well be impotent. And societies don't develop from children of rape.
'No' will be proven to be the most important word hardly spoken in the previous thirty years ten years from now. It was the remedy never used for something too late to take today. Time was, a pregnancy out of marriage was an embarrassment to the family, but a shame saved if they got to the church before the belly got too big. Today, Single Mother is a term as acceptable as mobile phone or car owner. Eyebrows have lost the ability to rise because we've grown accustomed to it's mention and meaning. But we leave out one word from this title that not only matters to the security of a growing person, but makes the vital difference. Young. If the majority of single mothers were over twenty five at the time of giving birth, the chances of their children developing in a more stable environment would inevitably increase. The bad news is that the broads who are rearing today's kids are kids themselves and are teaching while they themselves are learning. So we have proud, smiling grandmothers in early thirties with their photographs in the tabloids hoping to get themselves in The Guinness Book of Records.
We have a problem differentiating the joy of life from tragedy. The traits so attractive in young people can be calamitous to the rearing of a life. Just because they've reached puberty don't necessarily mean they've reached maturity.
OK, so being a young mother is no guarantee of a screwed up kid, even if bets against it might be few. The change in the odds come when the other half of the union is nowhere to be seen. An' even though that's no guarantee of a screwed up kid either, the bets would be for it. Sociologists might say a single parent kid is better off than two parents dangerously unsuited, but however precarious the traditional match, it's still a natural balance. It is a tripodal structure that represents family; Mother, Father, Offspring. Babies need Fathers. So do kids and adolescents. Not just 'coz the father will, or should exercise discipline, which is reason enough, but because he is vital to the necessary detachment of the child within the family. He's the other half of a tutorial discussion constantly monitoring, a compatible interest. The kid is made aware that it is the subject of debate and concern. It learns that it's actions often cause reactions from it's parents, whether it's argument or self-congratulation. It's an independent brace that makes opinions and decisions on it's behalf, a regular voice of instruction, and the kid will discover the limit to its insurgence during each stage of it's development. By the time it's almost an adult, it will find it easier to settle to independence because the values ingrained into it as a child shouldn't be that much different to those of a civilised community when it leaves home and has kids of its own. At least that's the wise guy theory. You don't have to be a child psychologist to suspect the single parent falls well short of delivering the same security. With no one else to discuss the child's welfare, no second person to share the responsibility of parenthood, the lone guide contemplates the decisions alone, weighs up the options in silence.
This ain't no stand for the 'Man of the House' bullshit, but the necessary half of a pair. It ain't simply a case of numbers either, two bein' better than one. It's the two of their child, the stability of the opposing sexes representing nothing extraordinary. An' it's desperation to say that the love of a mother is enough; love ain't got a back broad enough to compensate for such a basic requirement. People make people, and a single parent kid will soon discover the same face comes to it when it weeps, the nature of that person never changes, the voice is the only one it hears. It notices the mother alone or with other people who hold it's attention briefly over a matter of days or weeks. There is no consistency, no adaptation. An' though dependent on it's mother, it is also affective upon her, and will feel a sense of equivalence when it discovers talk is always done on a one to one basis. There exists no contrast of temperament always evident in the normal family.
There ain't a kid born who couldn't tell you which is the more lenient of it's parents, because it learns early who, and who not to take liberties with. Even if the single parent is austere, there is no official guardian to which it can find refuge, no choice to run to.
Listen up.
Society is constructed with the element called family. It is the established formula that ensures stability and regeneration for the future. This element is made up of three parts, and these parts constitute what we know as the family. To separate and disconnect one third of that element and not to expect the overall plan to be disturbed is to show the optimism of a dice-thrower. And not just any third. As far as damage limitation goes, the regular fatality, for whatever reason, of hundreds or even thousands of children would mean nothing to the social structure. It would only signify a decrease in population. Yet an increase in the one parent family is an influential embryo independent of the familiar course. But it is of the normal pattern, and being different to it, has to affect it.
Ain't it funny how we find the emotional tragedy involving the death of children easier to understand than imperfect social structures that hold more serious repercussions. The death of millions is a problem solved by replenishment. The problem with the other is that is ain't even recognised as one; only a change in social values.
But society regenerates. Thirty years from now old people who believed and stood by a traditional way of life will still be dying and more babies will be born to replace them. The single mother of a mother-to-be will see nothing wrong in allowing her daughter to bring the child up without a father. To do that would be to practically admit that irresponsible errors were made by herself, and what mother wants her own kid as an accuser?
Mothers blame society when one of their own is arrested or imprisoned, but not many stop and think that they might be the very society accused.
So.
Recap.
Neither mother or father make the family; they constitute it, get it? And a generation is developing which refuses to judge a fatherless child as disadvantaged. To do that would be unfair and an act of discrimination. These kids are only different. Society in thirty years time will be made up from today's kids. An' they may have to fit in to the mother's working life instead of being first priority.
Child minders have become the new disposable parents. Play groups are the artificial homes of a whole generation. Baby-sitting used at one time to mean more or less that; sitting with the baby for a few hours, maybe a neighbour or a friend you know a few doors down the street. But Baby-sitting is dead. Now it's Child-minding, a full-time profession deserving of qualification. We no longer have mothers with jobs, we have employers who have babies. Before long we will have breast milk in tins or the means for the parent to store her own milk herself and pass it on to the child minder at the stipulated time.
In the modern age we have mechanised rocking cots, a substitution for the absent mothers arms and the archaic lullaby. All you gotta' do is press a switch and you can catch up on the office files. They've got broads recording their voice on tape so that the mother's there even when she can't be there. Maybe they oughta' stick a photo of Mom beside it to evoke an image of presence. What's comin' next- an Embracing Machine? Mark three on the dial for a 'Leaving-for-School' cuddle, mark seven for 'Grazed Knee'. An' watch out for the headline in a newpaper ten years from now; "BABY LOSES LEG AFTER AUTO-NAPPYCHANGER MALFUNCTIONS!"- so the mother sues the company. And that's bad news for the company 'coz the mother is a full-time £100,000 per annum lawyer.
Don't you ever wish we could start all over again? There's technology makin' out it's freein' the woman when all it's done is displace the parent. Whether broads like it or not, they an' they alone are the attributable mother. Where the guys have transformed their environment over thousands of years to suit themselves, the broads have been transformed over tens of years by society. What she helped change has changed her.
We are the Adam and Eve pissed off with the marriage an' livin' in a dirty house littered with kid's mess an' puke, an' toys strewn across the floor to break your ankle, the little shits. When she was dumb enough to listen to a conniving snake, Eve made the first transgression an' messed up big time. And having tasted from the tree of knowledge she grasped the insight to realise she was naked and in need of fig leaves where before she was inhibitionless.
Some guys just can't help but ask the question; does a broad do the dishes at home because there are dishes to be done, or does she do them because she feels obligated? And the guy, no matter how able he is, will always suppose his mother or wife can get the stain out of a shirt better than he can. Most females won't entertain the notion that he might have asked because he knows he's incapable of even the simplest task, rather than just because she's a broad. This guy should be pitied, or ridiculed, but not accused of female enslavement.
The catch is, when you talk of families and moral issues you discover, almost without realising it, that your views stand as 'Traditional values', which is almost a political statement. Which also means you've elected your enemies at the same time.
Listen up, suckers. A political philosophy of the Western world helped to create what was its own sales department, the advertising industry, a direct involvement of it's purpose. When the emancipation of broads, which began after the war, progressed to equality in the Sixties and beyond, the advertising industry exploited and advanced this popular cause. Not because it happened to be true, but because it's motivation was profit, and profit is careless of speculative consequences. A transformation happened from the business of promoting a product to presenting a perspective, and the unshackled broad became iconoclast; she was no longer a housewife selling goods that were used by, or associated with women at home. Instead she sold universal products and was used figuratively.
Today the model reigns seductive and seditious, an image for women to envy, for men to desire. No more will you find her in the kitchen holding a carton of washing powder. Now she flashes her assets behind the wheel of the latest BMW. The character and the product no longer need to relate in the sexual way.
Liberalism is such a beautiful word. The sound of it runs off the tongue as free as it's definition- no sandpaper consonants. It's what everyone wants when politics becomes a trend. To attempt to redress it is to go back and that's unfashionable. After all, ain't this the new age? No, it ain't. It's only the latest one. And anyway, since when has new always meant better? The association comes, y'see, when people misunderstand new as modern, and modern as progression. But new only means different, not better. It is something other than what you used to know, and it only can mean progression.
Rather than correct, we prefer to change with the change. So because we live in a society where a rot is developing, we choose to retranslate rot and accustom ourselves to the shift. We're righteous enough still to recognise poverty, violence and permissiveness as things not favourable to society, yet are hesitant to seem traditional when talkin' about what caused them, or their remedies or preventions.
Today we're living in a society with sleaze the blood of its life. We're in a speeding car on a route that is going downhill and looking out of the rear window with our view that tomorrow is another day and if all the other days turned out fine, why worry? We are going to be right on time for everything we deserve. Right on time for the unpredictable and fantastic results our lazy work reaped for our glorious future society. Let freedom reign.