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All because a few female creeps rose to high office , and because male writers came up with some violent female characters? We’ve run out of [3] Why do men like pizza so much? Because the murderer dies in the fray (of his own making), these callous acts are often treated in the same way as domestic “disputes”: culprit-free crimes that are merely “tragic family incidents.” These people are trying to kill us! Nothing substantial is ever done about the way men carry on.

The Declaration, written in plain English, merely invites the signatory to make an admission that male property and power are ill-gotten gains, the products of men’s misguided five-thousand-year-long terrorist campaign aimed at the usurpation and colonization of women.

To give him his due, my copanelist, Alan Bissett, at a so-called debate on so-called feminism at the so-called Edinburgh International Book Festival in 2013, publicly pressed upon me £10.

Despite the scandalous gang rape and evisceration in India last year, quickly followed by a similar event in South Africa, or the Steubenville case in Ohio, in which an unconscious sixteen-year-old girl was carried naked from party to party to be sexually molested and peed upon (activities that some of the perpetrators claimed to interpret as consensual sex), doubt only seems to grow about what constitutes rape or whether it even exists.

The worse men behave, the more their crimes get downgraded into minor misdemeanors.

The footnotes here are the women of this essay, and they’re taking over. Women are still oppressed, men still running the show.

They’re still running around raping, killing, and maiming women—raping, killing, and maiming children too (which is really just another way of attacking women).

It seems to me a safe, sensible, efficient, and really rather innocuous solution to the problem of male mayhem, war, and the destruction of the environment.

And yet hardly any men to my knowledge have followed my very clear instructions on how to relinquish the unfair advantages so many of them claim to abhor.

It was a start, though far from the full relinquishing of funds I have in mind.

In return, I sent him, too, a stamped copy of the Mea Culpa Declaration.

In the end she offers each cause a guinea, this being all an “educated man’s daughter” could afford: Woolf’s three guineas thus become, in their paltriness, an emblem of women’s second-class status (making the diminished status of women the real subject of Woolf’s essay).