A whole big, giant world full of men. Men with blue eyes. Brown eyes. Green eyes. And indescribable shades in between. Tall men. Short men. Skinny men. Built men. And all combinations thereof. Nice men (so I've heard, but never really seen). Mean men. Decent men, indecent. And who knows which is the best kind to have, to hold, to love? I'd say, with so many men in the world, it would pay to sample a few. Scratch that. More than a few. Lots and lots. And then a few more. And maybe, after years of research, you might find one worth not throwing back. But hey, the fun is in the fishing.
With each of the men I dated, everything ran its natural course, whether it worked out or not. I never felt burnt by any of them. I don't feel resentful. I don't want those years back. I'm not one of those women who thinks men are bastards. I love men: straight men, gay men. I've always had men close to me, from the time I was a child.
Modern politics is, at bottom, a struggle not of men but of forces. The men become every year more and more creatures of force, massed about central powerhouses. The conflict is no longer between the men, but between the motors that drive the men, and the men tend to succumb to their own motive forces.
Men, I would like to take this opportunity to extend your formal invitation. ... Gender equality is your issue, too. ... I've seen young men suffering from mental illness, unable to ask for help, for fear it would make them less of a men""or less of a man. I've seen men made fragile and insecure by a distorted sense of what constitutes male success. Men don't have the benefits of equality, either.
<< previousnext >>