Wednesday 31 July 2013

Suffragette City


The little town of Corsham, Wiltshire, has something to do with Suffragettes going on at the moment, with a bit of Dr Who and the Daleks running at the same time throughout the Summer. I am ashamed to say that I still don't know what it is all about, but I love the folk-art dotted around town. I certainly identify with the above message.

A couple of times before when I have been there, there have been real women wandering around, dressed as Suffragettes and fending off jokes from men about whether or not they deserve the vote.

Every business establishment seems to be joining in with the spirit of the thing, and a local cafe has been force-feeding some volunteers using a length of hosepipe and a funnel.

Oh alright, I made that last bit up.


9 comments:

  1. Without poverty there'd be no condescending hand-outs of hob-nailed boots, nit lotion, or stale bread; then where would we be?

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    1. Stale bread? We'd all be eating cake. Hehe.

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    2. I thought you called me 'Hebe' for a minute.

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  2. I find the whole feminist discourse at the moment to be quite shrill, inconsequential and boring. So this week we're supposed to be upset about lad's mags in supermarkets? FFS! What about the women and children in Bangladesh who died sewing clothes for us?

    The suffragettes you mention here were quite amazing, hard working women who achieved a shitload of reforms and yet today I listen to women who say, 'I'm not a feminist. They are all hairy armpitted lesbians. I don't want to dominate men. I want the economic power to undertake my pole dancing lessons in peace ... sister. Let's just peaceably protest the lack of women in male dominated hens nights. '

    I'll bet my bottom dollar they are happy to own land, vote, get a job after they are married or buy discount clothes from some cheap-ass outlet.

    So, I know it was the first wave ... but after listening to Germaine Greer criticizing our female PM's ass recently, I reckon it may have been the best wave.
    Rant over.

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    1. I always had a soft-spot for hairy arm-pitted lesbians in dungarees around the early 1970s. I was the Bath branch's mascot. There was that joke around a little later about the older ones looking as though they had Don King in a headlock. Happy days.

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    2. I like them too Tom and I've been cultivating my armpit hair just for you. No really. Now let me give you a hug.

      My daughter Pearlie expressed horror at my armpits this morn.
      'That's disgusting Mum. Gross!'
      'But I've been growing them on purpose.'
      'What is wrong with you Mum?'

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    3. You could shave your pubes into a heart-shape and dye them pink - that would shut the little fucker up.

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  3. And just for a second I believed it!

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    1. For a second, I thought it was you in the window, Weave.

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