I’ve always been a supporter of women’s emancipation, but not from egalitarian sentiment, although that thought is present to some degree. What it comes from is the observation, made at an early age, that women had privileges over men and predilections that worked to my disadvantage. I freely admit that in large part this is a case of sour grapes. I am not, and have never been, a sexually attractive male, and my experience is perfectly encapsulated in the old, cheerful ditty:

Keep your mind on your driving and your hands on the wheel
Keep your snoopy eyes on the road ahead
We’re having fun sitting in the back seat
Hugging and kissing with Fred.

Fred, of course, is glamorous and charismatic, probably a jock or a rich asshole, and the chirpy ladies are always massively disappointed when the driver hangs the effort up and it turns out Fred doesn’t even have a car and doesn’t know how to drive. When $PRETTYGIRL asked me for “help with her homework” it always turned out that what she wanted was for me to do her homework, leaving her with enough free time to fuck Fred.

Virginia Postrel observes that at least a few happy fun chicks (of both sexes) are unhappily coming to the conclusion that President Fred’s glamo(u)r and charisma are no substitute for an ability to drive. For those of us more or less of my disposition this comes as no surprise. Women’s lib == own it, girls, whether you’re actually concave or convex.

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