When The Enemy Has No Face, Society

I Write To Figure Out What I Am Thinking: What Does My Life Mean?

The 'feminine' Woman Is Forever Static And Childlike. She Is Like The Ballerina In An Old-fashioned Music Box, Her Unchanging Features Tiny And Girlish, Her Voice Tinkly, Her Body Stuck On A Pin, Rotating In A Spiral That Will Never Grow.

Social Scientists Could Supply Plenty Of Research To Show That One Member Of The Family, At Least, Is Happier And More Well Adjusted When Mum Stays Home And Looks After The Children. But That Person Is Dada Finding Of Limited Use To Backlash Publicists.

Instead Of Confronting Its Real And Difficult Problems And Grappling Honestly With A Dark Past, Hungary Embraced A Reactionary Government And A Self-pitying Image Of Itself As The Victimized Nation, And Went Looking For Scapegoats In The Roma, Jews, And, Most Recently, Syrian Migrants.

My Goal Is To Be Accused Of Being Strident.