'Yes, Zeus made this the greatest pain of all:
Woman.
A man who's with a woman can't get through
a single day without a troubled mind.'
Semonides of Amorgos, 'Woman,' 7th century B.C.
Receptionist, to novelist Melvin Udall: 'How do you write women so well?'
Melvin Udall: 'I think of a man, and I take away reason and accountability.'
Mark Andrus, 'As Good As It Gets,' 1997 A.D.
Those born and raised amid the Late Twentieth Century Delusion were force-fed many lies. 'Race is only skin-deep,' for one. 'Anything unpleasant happening anywhere on the planet is somehow attributable to Europeans'-- We've all heard that one. But perhaps the most insidious?
'There are no real differences between women and men.'
How silly it sounds, and yet
how thoroughly this
bêtise has
seized the spirits of our
educated classes. Denying it can cost you your professional
reputation, the respect
of your peers, even your
plum job as president of Harvard.
But reaction has set in. The radical (for our days) notion that women are
not the same as men has found eloquent defenders, from the unsentimental
Chateau Heartiste to the optimistic
Dalrock. Perusing such sites could prove demoralizing for woman weaned on Late Twentieth Century Delusion. Yet it is often the case that in criticism lies truth. Disagreeable truth, but isn't much truth disagreeable?
In this realm as in many others, men who came before us had things to say, though they are today considered high heresy. When a group we belong to is criticized, our first reaction is to shift blame. The problem lies not with
us, no, it lies with you, you hater of the feminine, you
misogynist. And yet... Looking at ourselves through the eyes of this Other Tribe, these Men, could tell us much. Dare we meet these dead men's gazes unflinchingly?