"It's a scary time for young men in America."

"...it will go the way it always goes in the press when it all comes out: it will have been my fault, all of it because men's crimes are always ours in the final analysis, aren't they, Mr. Strike? Ultimate responsibility always lies with the woman, who should have stopped it, who should have acted, who must have known.

- A female client speaking to detective Cormoran Strike in Lethal White by Robert Galbraith

I had actually intended to use that quote from Lethal White in my review of the book last week, but then I forgot. However, it sure seems to fit here.

Our current president is very, very concerned about young men at this time in America; it is a very scary time for them, he says.

His words have inspired all kinds of responses on social media as well as in the real world. Here is just one of those responses.

A young woman called Lynzy Lab Stewart wrote a song about the "scary time" which has made its way around the internet. If you have problems (as I did at times) understanding all the words to her song, the written lyrics follow.

I CAN’T WALK TO MY CAR LATE AT NIGHT WHILE ON THE PHONE

I CAN’T OPEN UP MY WINDOWS WHEN I’M HOME ALONE

I CAN’T GO TO A BAR WITHOUT A CHAPERONE

AND I CAN’T WEAR A MINI SKIRT IF ITS THE ONLY ONE I OWN

I CAN’T USE PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION AFTER 7 PM

I CAN’T BE BRUTALLY HONEST WHEN YOU SLIDE INTO MY DMS

I CAN’T GO TO THE CLUB JUST TO DANCE WITH MY FRIENDS

AND I CAN’T EVER LEAVE MY DRINK UNATTENDED

BUT IT SURE IS A SCARY TIME FOR BOYS

YEAH GENTLEMEN! BAND TOGETHER, MAKE SOME NOISE

ITS REALLY TOUGH WHEN YOUR REPUTATION’S ON THE LINE

AND ANY WOMAN YOU’VE ASSAULTED COULD TURN UP ANYTIME

YEAH, IT SURE IS A SCARY TIME FOR GUYS

CAN’T SPEAK TO ANY WOMEN OR LOOK THEM IN THE EYES

ITS SO CONFUSING, IS IT RAPE OR IS IT JUST BEING NICE?

SO INCONVENIENT THAT YOU EVEN HAVE TO THINK TWICE

I CAN’T LIVE IN AN APARTMENT IF IT'S ON THE FIRST FLOOR

I CAN’T BE WEARING SILK PAJAMAS WHEN I ANSWER THE DOOR

I CAN’T HAVE ANOTHER DRINK EVEN IF I WANT MORE

I CAN’T MAKE YOU FEEL INVALID, UNSEEN, OR IGNORED

I CAN’T JOG AROUND THE CITY WITH HEADPHONES ON MY EARS

I CAN’T SPEAK OUT AGAINST MY RAPIST AFTER 35 YEARS

I CAN’T BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY IF I'M HOLDING BACK TEARS

AND I CAN’T EVER SPEAK EARNESTLY ABOUT ALL MY FEARS

BUT IT SURE IS A SCARY TIME FOR DUDES

CAN’T TEXT A GIRL REPEATEDLY ASKING FOR NUDES

CAN’T MAKE HER HAVE SEX WHEN SHE’S NOT IN THE MOOD

AND WHAT GIVES HER THE RIGHT TO GIVE YOU ATTITUDE??

YEAH, IT SURE IS A SCARY TIME FOR MEN

GIRLS LIKE TO ACT LIKE YOU’RE TO BLAME AND THEY’RE THE VICTIMS

HER DRESS WAS SHORT AND SHE WAS DRUNK, SHE’S NOT SO INNOCENT

THANK GOD YOUR DAD’S THE JUDGE AND YOU WON’T BE CONVICTED

OH WAIT...THAT’S RIGHT… IT’S NOT SUCH A SCARY TIME FOR BOYS

THEY’VE ALWAYS HAD THE UPPER HAND, THEY’VE ALWAYS HAD A CHOICE

IT’S TIME FOR WOMEN TO RISE UP, USE OUR COLLECTIVE VOICE

THE DAY TO VOTE’S NOVEMBER 6, SO LET’S GO MAKE SOME NOISE

~~~

I think it would be hard to overstate the absolute fury that the past week to ten days have generated among a large cross-section of the women of this country. Let us hope that that fury can be sustained through the next month and that all those angry women will speak through their votes. It's the only thing that really counts and can change things.

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no...

Poetry Sunday: Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney

My mother was a farm wife and a prodigious canner. She canned fruit and vegetables from the garden, even occasionally meat. But the best thing that she canned, in my opinion, was blackberry jam. Even as I type those words my mouth waters! Of course, before she could make that jam, somebody had to pick the blackberries. And that somebody was quite often named Dorothy. I think Seamus Heaney might have spent some time among the briars plucking those delicious black fruits as well, so he would have known that "Once off the bush the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour." They don't keep; you have to get that jam made in a hurry! Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust ...

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try. ...

The Nature of Things

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