The women came to that exclusive gathering that warm September evening as though they were making a sacred pilgrimage to the interior of some ancient temple where a living oracle would be, perched upon a throne of sorts, silently welcoming pilgrims and wayfarers, holding herself in deep reverie or meditation for long intervals, before finally emerging, consenting, selectively offering her sporadic snippets of esoteric wisdom to each guest according to her need...It was the spacious, warm, inviting lounge making up the west wing of the student center - once known as the largest Victorian house on campus that served as the chosen venue of this watershed event. The older women happily sat on pillows or cross-legged on the rug, comparing notes, while younger ladies scrunched together on the long leather couches or found space to huddle in various corners of the room until they had exceeded the fire marshal's recommended number. The center of everyone's attention was an charismatic (dare one say: attractive) elderly woman with dark braided hair, searching eyes, a well-defined jaw and a beaming smile; she wore a multi-colored shawl, blue jeans and sandals as she greeted various regulars with ecstatic small talk, kisses and familiar embraces, stopping to comment on scarves, jewelry or other special features of fabulous colleagues and returning students. And with the crowd spilling out of the side back entrance, one of the late arrivals - the only one of the male persuasion (so far as anyone knew) - with much assistance pursued a reluctant sort of forward motion, walking arm in arm between two close female friends who like bodyguards escorted this short-haired oaf through the distracted crowd as he - with cap pulled down over his face - hunched over hyperbolically so as not to reveal his true height, kept tugging at his dark baggy sweater as if it were a cloak until the trio found welcome rest kneeling beside a lamp where even the most devoted acolytes do not usually kneel or ensconce themselves. One of the aforementioned bodyguards winked at the other with secret pride ("We made it..."), while the hapless male remained docile and subdued- and truth be told a little unnerved by this strange spectacle that he was somehow intruding upon against his will. The room had that hum of polite excitement that takes place before lectures, ballets, classical recitals; Katherine Bourgeois-Pain - the evening's speaker - surveyed each individual guest, slowly taking in the scene. Suddenly a few shrieks were heard as the audience roused itself into a fit of sustained applause and fun-loving hoots and claps such as one still may find in folk music circles. One of the undergrads rose to the makeshift podium and meandered through a nervous introduction repeating as she went about what a life-altering event this night was destined to be. The hapless male interloper's attention span was held spellbound by the sheer variety of womanly forms and faces. Clearly out of his element, he looked around for any signs of other uninvited male guests - but when none were forthcoming, he surmised that at least a few other clandestine party-crashers were indeed present. Perhaps some are here, he surmised, but "under wraps" like me... The talk had been heavily advertised of course - but as with other such on-campus activities, this proved something of a foreboding enticement even for sensitive, sympathetic males. After the cries had subsided Bourgeois-Pain stepped forward and began to speak, slowly, emphatically..... Well, she began...I must warn you that what I am about to say is not for the faint of heart... (laughter)...As you know I have been dubbed "controversial" (much laughter) and "incendiary" - someone who loves to go against the majority opinion. And yes - I do proudly wear this mantle of heretic and gadfly. But if what I say does sound strange at first, or does make you uncomfortable, please realize that what I say is simply trying to tap into feelings and reactions that perhaps you are already experiencing or have experienced. Because you already know in a sense everything that I am about to suggest to you as true. You know (in advance) the reasons why we are here, she began. And what must be done. And who must be reminded, and enlightened or shall I say confronted (much laughter). Looking around the world today, you all have your eyes wide open - I say that with deep faith in the quality of our young women. Before I have even begun to try to explain anything at all to you amazing ones - you beautiful, curious ones, you wise women, you bright, faithful ladies...You have understood pain, the pain that comes from being slighted, from being relegated, from being pigeonholed and underestimated....And you have come here tonight because the paradigm man-beast-behemoth-leviathan cannot prevent you from feeling whatever it is that you feel in your innermost psyche which is the true dwelling place of the spirit....You feel it within, but I would wager that you also feel a tug, like a guilt, pulling you away from truth, pulling you away...And stopping abruptly she looked around - seemingly for signs of which had already made up their minds, having agreed with her and which were skeptical. And were there some there as well - enlightened-progressive colleagues, mind you, who were somewhat more antagonistic in their silent glares. Was it true, what some had said, that this wave of feminism had died out years ago and was in dire need of a theoretical re-adjustment, or had it simply been eclipsed by other concerns and formulations brimming up from the imperatives of popular culture and the current vernacular? And was this formidable woman, looking perhaps for an heir apparent or sorts, some dynamic younger woman or woman's coterie to whom she could pass the torch of radical activism? The faces of other male interlopers were beginning to emerge from hoodies and hats, whispering under their breath to one another "This is so weird. This is so weird..." while Bourgeois-Pain continued in her measured, mellifluous tone: And now I arrive at what some - even some of you here tonight - will consider controversial... because of my choice of words (laughter). I come tonight to tell you something of man-beast and man-child. I use both terms in order to be fair, in order to acknowledge the spectrum of possibility, in order to make clear what the matrices of biological mutations have wrought. I know there is a part of you, as women, to extend compassion to all - especially to man-child. This loyalty you feel as you look out at innocent manchild and his early promise in life. And some part of you, indeed, understandably, may even want to be a caretaker, friend, confidant, muse, patron and so you do what so many women do at this crucial age, at this irrevocable moment in their young lives, when destinies are forged...namely, you give yourself over to someone else's imperative; you put yourself on hold; you squelch the voice, you suppress it believing you have done the right thing - you have become a "moral person" - This is morality and respectability. So you say. But even at the moment when you do so, some discomfort remains because you cannot deny to yourself the unfairness, the injustices, the havoc and the chaos - the sheer violence that is wreaked by man-beast and his tendencies. And so - you scratch your head and you ask why? And what can be done about this - you say. But even knowing the problem that exists you cannot bring yourself to conclude that it is a global phenomenon with global ramifications or a historical problem with historical reach or a biological problem to some extent with anthropological consequences...you do not perhaps wish to envision the parameters of the power differential that is involved in all this. You perhaps would rather believe that no one is responsible - therefore even the perpetrators are innocent - Because it is a matter of education after all - and proper upbringing - perhaps you've told yourself. And so many of these men are poorly educated and grow up to be (as a result) - let's face it - problematic males - dare I say - toxic males - dare I say troglodytes (much laughter). No really. Think about the damage done, the wreckage that is heaped upon our collective memory - think of the infected who walk around with negative labels who are basically of the same mindset as those on top....And what do we sometimes call these wretches? Punks, derelicts, criminals, stalkers, control-freaks, muggers, thugs, abusers...I can't even bring myself to mention the other ones. From whence do these male mutations emerge given all of our efforts - given that we know in theory that theses types are unacceptable? Why can't our educational system handle them and re-make them? Does it all go back to biology? I know already how some of you in your weaker, more desperate moments are tempted to answer. But suppose with me for a moment that a system underlying this mess did in fact exist as we all think it does exist - as the product of some vile inheritance, a curse, a pestilence that is passed on, that is foisted on us really - an absurdly burdensome legacy of social roles and gender practices, of rules and strictures and expectations, of threats and punishments and innuendos that you have been taught to accept unthinkingly as NECESSITY - as BIOLOGY as DESTINY - forgetting mind you, what great labors are expended, what sheer continuous effort is spent showing us that we ourselves have consented to beliefs and practices that we did not invent....Imagine the sheer dimensions of this system, this apparatus, with all of the protocol that goes with it and then ask yourselves --- does it not require a web of enforcers to promote, defend, maintain this false world - think authority figures, fathers, coaches, elder clerics, cops and soldiers and of course, those aging politicians, our so-called leaders (rudderless dregs really) - from the stodgy CEO's in board-rooms to football players and star athletes etc. etc.- these male charismatics, these desirable types, these huckster golden-boys, these corporate power-brokers for lack of a better name - as such - have their influence on the way that things are done - That these powers, have their henchmen, their overseers, their drones and their mouth-pieces and their hacks - their representatives who are so necessary as pillars of the system - of a system that is designed to keep a majority of the population thinking as servants....loyal servants of manbeast disguised as manchild - because manchild always presents as having good intentions...when young...And this is the great delusion...So what happens...This is what we are here to discuss...This is part of the great research that takes place at this university at least in our department....thank the goddess - in our department! What I hope to show you is a true radicalism that is continually reinventing itself, constantly groping for air and open space, a radical psyche that simply is, that exists, that asserts itself, and that, by virtue of evading altogether the trappings of manbeast, represents as itself the great alternative to the delusion. Imagine the reaction to a single person who dissents, who really decides whether out of frustration or exhaustion or simply out of whimsy - pure impulse - to be herself - to move against the tide. This is a revolution, mind you, that begins everyday, that has begun, that has been moving forward for decades now, but which is in constant danger of being squashed and repressed at any given moment. And even tonight I fear - nay - I know with absolute certainty - that my adversaries are poised and waiting for me to falter. If it not a major crime in itself that I am a woman who dares utter these things, my critics mention my age as well as some sort of evidence against my credibility... For you see... But at this point a figure rose up in back of the room, pointed a long, pinkish finger and spoke in an ambiguously feminine voice: I think you've had your say, m'um. I think you've said enough for one night! Adding drama to insult, Bourgeois-Pain remained calm, impassive, nonplussed by the outburst, nodding her head as if expecting such an outburst on cue. "It was almost prophesied, one might say, that someone here, in our midst, would betray me. The hecklers started laughing; there were at least two or three of them, wearing hoodies, rising out of their formerly inconspicuous postures. My only question is whether you be hired drones - representatives of manbeast paid to harass and bully me or would you happen to be a sampling of those lost, misguided unhappy weaker vessel sellouts acting out your codependent martyr fantasies on the altar of man worship? The hecklers continued, their booming androgynous, inexplicably British-sounding voices - emanating from behind where an exotic indoor plant was standing: We've heard your views - now we could use a discussion. Will you answer questions? "Before deciding to railroad this intended lecture - you might have the decency to state your real agenda. " But at this point the audience was reacting against the disruption - in a show of rhythmic clapping on behalf of Bourgeois-Pain. The hecklers looked at one another, but could not decide whether to unburden themselves of their disguises and reveal their true identities. It was evident that half the crowd was perhaps somewhat unemphatic and conflicted in their views. The murmur of the audience's confusion began welling up into a crescendo of voices - unsure of what to do next. One young woman suddenly stood up - took off her hat and sweater - literally let down her long chestnut hair - and began speaking as if called upon - "Yes..hi...hello... I just wanted to say that a lot of us here respect what you represent here at this university - Katherine. You're like a living icon of some huge event in history that none of us were there for. And we thank you for that...Uhm...we're well aware of your integrity as a radical critic of the establishment - the man problem and all that - but without denying the need for solidarity and higher awareness of inequity and mysogyny, etcl, honestly - some of us here just don't feel the need to go in the same direction - if that makes any sense. Maybe we just haven't experienced enough of these injustices directly to know what you mean - but for the time being - we're comfortable taking another path - less political perhaps - I guess you'd call us "practical types" - but you know, it's a different time - and actually I think people out there are getting the message or have already gotten the message - so I'm very hopeful. I guess I or we don't feel the need to be as radical. Because if everyone knows and accepts the ideal of relations between men and women - then that sort of has to have an effect eventually....doesn't it? Does that make any sense? Several young women beside her slowly nodded in the affirmative. Katherine Bourgeois-Pain let out an uproarious belly laugh. "Bless you - all of you young "practical moderates" of the third wave! If only theory guided practice so smoothly as you imagine...When you start to sense the delay in the wished-for outcome (that you all claim to be fighting for) - you come see me!" "But we do support you in spirit." - said another young woman, wearing a RedSox jersey and a baseball cap. "We've chosen our own path...and we feel that real progress is being made. We're comfortable with men - because we don't allow them to threaten us. We won't permit it. Are you saying that you think us naive?" "I am not here to incite or re-ignite a generational quarrel...among the sisterhood. But I do plead with you - my ladies - to compare - your fortunate and somewhat fortuitous positions - with the hundreds upon thousands of millions of women, workers, housewives, young girls, mothers, daughters, - all of them persecuted, marginalized, thwarted, scapegoated in countries all over the globe that remain culturally backward - permeated by the spirit of manbeast and his co-hort, misogynist. Are you seriously going to sit here and say that because you don't personally feel the heat or encounter their misfortunes that - this threat is not real, that your support and solidarity is not absolutely essential?" "Okay ...wow...I suppose you DO have a point. But...I just think that every generation has their own method for dealing with the problems...And I'm just saying this to explain that we're not against you necessarily even if we take a different tack...Because we've read your books and all. It's not like we're forgetting you." But at this point, the hecklers had successfully organized themselves and agreed upon a plan...One of them took off the hoodie to reveal the pale, pasty, curly-haired head of a goof, half-smiling and half-confused.
"Hey - everyone - we decided to crash this shindig...uhm ...because we believe us guys have a right to be here...and I don't agree with what was said about manbeast...I'm mean c'mon...that's not right...You can't lump us all into that category...." Another heckler was even less kind and diplomatic. "Your time is up, I'm afraid, my dear, dear lady. You've had your say. Let the younger generation speak. Give them your blessing....step aside...retire...." And so the chant began: "retire....retire... the old and weathered must retire..." and ceased after only a minute. But Fiona was in the crowd as well. Incensed by the rude treatment her aunt was enduring, she stood up on a chair and remarked: "Observe ladies, how these thuggish interlopers, these beastly ones have come to fleer and mock at our solemnity...You will not erase my auntie's wisdom by trying to shout her down. Rise up and fight! Rise up and fight!"
