Cottony Reprices.
'Trends: making the meaning in your own life melt away'.
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'Trends: making the meaning in your own life melt away'.
I wonder if he has noticed how dark the woods have grown lately, the shadows deeper and deeper, the jay silent. I wish the woods were more the way they used to be. I wish they were the way they could be.
I was sorry for her, as I am for any who are evicted from their haunts by the younger and stronger.
However distorted was his crazy vision of the beautiful world, however perverse his scheme for establishing an order of goodness by murdering every creature that seemed to him bad, I had to hand him this: he really worked at it.
His views were largely of a dissenting nature. Yet, in tearing us apart, he somehow held us together. In obstructing, he strengthened us. In criticizing, he informed. In his rich, aromatic heresy, he nourished our faith.
Really, it feels rubbish being a man at the moment -- assuming you base your self-perception on the images pouring from your T.V. set, that is. I know I do, and I'm beginning to feel like scum simply for owning my own testicles. Take adverts. I don't recall attending a meeting where it was decided that all male characters in adverts should be portrayed as pitiful figures of fun, but, nevertheless, that's precisely what's happened: every other commercial on television seems to feature a sassy female character rolling her eyes in dismay at the buffoonish antics on an imbecilic man. In advert-land, boyfriends and husbands are routinely ditched, cheated on, or, in the most offensive example, literally traded in for a sleeker model at a dedicated showroom. Of course, the implicit message is as patronising to women as it is to men -- it's saying, 'Hey, you're a modern women, yeah? You're cleverer than most men, right? Brilliant! Now buy this. Go on, bitch -- buy it.'