Belisarius
Bluelighter
The battle of the sexes is nothing more than a power play, the only game worth playing; after all, life's been doing it for at least 3.9 billion years. One of the outgrowths of it is a lust for temporal power, which both men and women have; chicas may not use brass knuckles and bazookas, but those are just one flavor of interpersonal torment and domination. For every utopian account of what gynocracy would look like, there are ten real-life accounts of the Machiavellian brutality of women in homogenous groups, particularly if the environment is already competitive. Truth be told, I suspect a world that woke up with women in control would be pining for the status quo in a month, writing visas to Pluto in a year.
The moral of the story is: the world is a mess not because of what is or isn't between your legs, but because we're basically tree-swinging, shit-slinging monkeys with shotguns.
The moral of the story is: the world is a mess not because of what is or isn't between your legs, but because we're basically tree-swinging, shit-slinging monkeys with shotguns.
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