Why I’m the Best Writer and You’re Not.
Called Babez Station at Shuteye Town. Click your way to heaven. Funny. I’ve been accused my whole writing life of being a misogynist. Never was. Never occurred to me my true state was relevant to the body politic. Which it most definitely now is. Flaubert would know what I was talking about. And Tolstoy. And Shakespeare, Chaucer, and Shelley. Writers like us are wholly male with a wholly female persona living within us. We are both. Like Adam, who lost a rib over it to the detriment of a great many men since. Haven’t seen this in the proliferating gender diagrams. But we’re the only ones who actually understand the foolish notions that are being perpetuated. Why we understand a lot of things no one else does. Like the LGBTQ+ thing. Child’s play. Harmless for years, now murderous. Yes, there’s a woman in me. Why I’m posting about this here. My sexuality has been affected by the culture at large. But more importantly, by my dual nature. As a man I am completely heterosexual. I have a