{Referring to this glorious Tom Gauld cartoon.}Here’s the thing. I bet that mousie spent his d
{Referring to this glorious Tom Gauld cartoon.}Here’s the thing. I bet that mousie spent his days talking over women in seminars, twirling his hair and longing not to be burdened with the horrible weight of male privilege, constructing elaborate scenarios that allowed him to enact his 1950’s-Oxbridge-male-bonding fantasies, and building a shrine to Ezra Pound in his living room. He invited his fate, Cleo.If we wish young mousies to survive their blind devotion to James Joyce, we must agitate for systemic change. The revolution begins at home, kids: read a George Eliot novel. -- source link
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