At Linda's

So I posted a piece at Linda's, and the results are in the Comments.

I also get an email from a writer friend generally agreeing with the post and my own three earlier ones, but wondering what good they do. I don't suppose they do any good at all, but I have no illusions about doing good. My only obligation is to say what I think as well as I can. Or at least find out what I think by saying it. Because that's the way you find out. No doubt I'll post more on misandry or whatever it is called. Not so as to be obsessive, you understand.

Apropos all that, I note two pieces in today's Telegraph by female journalists admonishing Michael Vaughan for crying when resigning as England cricket captain. The boy was simply getting in touch with his emotions, of course. They all do that now. You see face? Check. You see tears? Check. You get emotion? Check.

My personal upper lip is so stiff I have been hammering nails into it to hang my car keys from.