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WILD COOT: Women power

Harry Russell

WILD COOT: Women power

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THE EMASCULATION of men. This thing is assuming vast proportions. Every day it is in the newspapers, and National Organization of Women ‘perlixing’. Poor Ralphie on the canvas, and the count is at eight. Will he survive? Women are taking over the world, and men, having had a go at it for the last 40 centuries or so, are prepared to sit back and let the women see that the job is not for the faint hearted.
“Wild Coot”, said a female friend who I consider a wise woman, “The baby belongs to who I say it belongs to and that’s that.” Men are losing the struggle to control. Once it was easy. In the good old days men dragged the women by a loose plait and subjugated them with a thick club.
Just how have we men let that position of dominance slip by? We come from a woman (most of us anyhow). Kindergarten is overseen by women. Elementary and secondary schools teachers are predominantly women. Women have to run households sometimes by themselves.
Most of our university students are women. Then when we enter the workforce often times we have a woman boss. The women are taking up political posts and are even heads of government.
Thus, in defiance of the Bible teaching and that of St Paul, they are assuming a position of dominance. Perhaps that is why they can now say “the baby belongs to who we say the baby belongs to”.
This has become such a hot topic with women leading the charge that men are getting scared. You see men depend on the cooperation of women when it comes to sharing sweetness. Women have a secret (sometimes not so secret) weapon – “I say no!” There is no amount of coaxing known to man that can overcome that ‘no’.
Therefore some men turn to the old time ways – violence, subjugation. But some men have become so frustrated and scared that they seek solace in their own kind, leaving women to do the same. Hence the charge and proliferation of same sex unions. Men, please do not get vex with the Wild Coot for saying this.
They say that it is a gene problem; that the genes got mixed up. That is not so. The genes are okay. Same sex men and women have given up, men first.
“But Wild Coot, how would you feel raising another man’s child?”
First of all, if I did not go there, I could not get any blame; and anyway somebody has to raise the child. And just suppose that the child turns out to be a superstar, you would have the dubious satisfaction of claiming the kudos. If the child happens to be a prodigy, playing Chopin at five or beating Bolt’s record in the 100 metres, how proud you would be showing off to your friends, “look what I produced”.
Somebody sent me an email about a man with a robot car that did his bidding. He and his wife sent the car to pick up the three children from school. The car came back with ten children. The wife screamed at him: “Are all those children yours?” Hear the man, cool as a cucumber: “How come your children aren’t there?”
Ralphie boy, you have a big fight on your hands. One thing is in your favour, you do not have to depend on anybody for a living and you certainly can rice yourself. You know that it is hard to kick against the pricks although you have to try, sore though your feet may be. Try another tactic.
Try showing the benefits of DNA testing for a baby. Say it can detect susceptibility to cancer early, and that the gene can be eliminated. Exhort the men to accept their new role as suppliants in a women-dominated world.
Take what sweetness (if any) is doled out to them on a monthly or quarterly basis, and when women say “I say the baby is yours”, reply “yes mam”; knowing full well that in some other place where sweetness was enjoyed, you have no need to worry about responsibility.
Many men Ralphie, are willing to back the DNA scenario, but are too timid to speak because of the sweetness weapon. So do not expect overt support. However, know that deep down in their hearts, you have their support.
You realize that Bajans would not even support key investments, but allow Trickidadians to buy up the island, then split the investments up like the Romans did with Christ’s garment.
• Harry Russell is a banker.