I’ve just about had it with corked-arse activists, who behave like short-circuiting acid-sprinklers when they must be defined. And yet, yet they seek convoluted, complex-worded three-sentence qualifiers for the work they do.
They like being stereotyped. I have decided.
So there. Be stereotyped.
There will be self-proclaimed ‘intellectually superior gender-sensitised’ women, who think nothing of drooling sexist jokes made at the expense of ill-educated, patriarchal, mainstream men.
There will be no-leather, no-foreign-brand, no-deo, everything-that-moves-eating men and women of the earth who think it a moral undoing to disturb the earth that settles on them by either bathing, combing or brushing.
There will be committed-to-gender-equality men, who’ve had their fill of free-love and must return to the toiling wife and three children for a hot meal and a bed.
There will be men and women who have dismissed the notion of commitment, marital or otherwise in lengthy M Phil theses, who make a fine display of their loneliness, desperation and bitterness.
There will be secular atheists who taunt and laugh at people with faith.
AAAAAaaah. Try writing a word to describe an activist’s work without incurring some sort of disdain at your complete inability to GET THE POINT. Here I’m struggling with 200.
Okay. Venom spilt; off I go, back to toiling at suspended crap.