Sexual Revolution - A Fight for Justice

First, let me express pleasure at our new template. The appearance of this blog is asymptotically approaching awesome, the Form of the Template, whereas our content (when it occurs!) synthesizes and transcends awesome in a Hegelian orgy.

I cannot wait to see what Google searches direct here after those last two words.

Anyway...

A thought came to mind as I was walking down a Florida sidewalk, cooled by a recent rainstorm. For one thing, when not sweating gallons of water, I can actually think. Second, the so-called Sexual Revolution, whatever it was really about, was epitomized in the young woman running in front of me. She was extremely beautiful, barely clothed, and equipped in that peculiar mix of short, tight shorts and a top just managing to cover enough to qualify as more-than-a-bra that I see gracing the campus grounds daily. Just think - before the sexual liberation of women from oppressive patriarchy, that lovely thing would never have been allowed to be seen like that in public.

I take it, then, that the demand of the early feminists was this: we'll parade around half-naked in our toned, gloriously gorgeous bodies all around you, and in return you'll have premarital intercourse with us.

Lay down your arms, boys. This is one fight we simply, utterly cannot win.

Surrender. For justice.