My Facebook feed has been filling up with posts referencing Clint Eastwood’s recent interview with Esquire magazine in which he slammed political correctness and referred to this as “the Pussy Generation”. Despite his best efforts, and being totally wrong, Mr. Eastwood accidentally slipped a little bit of truth in there. You see, he is treating the phrase like an insult, but what if you flip it around and look at it from the other side?

You see, “the Pussy Generation” is all about sensitivity, compassion, helping those in need, environmental responsibility, equality of opportunity, respect for everyone, and ensuring the strong don’t trample the weak. In short, political correctness. Traditionally, these ideas are all more or less anathema to our traditional, patriarchal society. For many years now, anyone who embraced these “feninine”¬†leanings could expect to collect the pejorative label “pussy”. But that’s only a bad thing if you’re a slave to patriarchal fashion. Let me explain.

“Pussy” is used as a slang term to refer to female genitalia. To refer to a male as a “pussy” was to imply that he was acting like a woman and that this was a bad thing. It’s only bad if you drank your daily dose of patriarchal kool-aid. Once you realize that all of these feminine behaviours have been run down to build up the hyper-masculine values our society was built on, you can understand that their negative connotation is a deliberate construct.

For time out of mind, our society has been run by a male dominated, misogynistic, hyper-masculinized patriarchy. Before anyone points out the usual list of female rulers let me just point out that every single one of them succeeded by playing the men’s game by the men’s rules. None of them were noted for bringing an especially feminine sensibility to the halls of power.

If this is indeed “the Pussy Generation” then what about all those that have come before? Well, let’s take a look at that for a moment. If someone is rude, abusive, insensitive, hurtful, bossy, negative, bullying etc, we would likely say that they are being “a Dick”. As the counterpoint to “Pussy”, “Dick” is the negative pejorative associated with male genitalia. As such, it is associated with all the traditionally male behaviours.

With all this in mind, it quickly becomes apparent that our society, and indeed much of the world has been run for thousands of years by successive “Dick Generations”. Look at what that has gotten us and you can start to understand why I don’t see “the Pussy Generation” as a such a bad thing. Given the history of war, bigotry, oppression, suppression, hatred, greed and general abuse of anyone who doesn’t think/look/talk/act/believe/behave/whatever the same as us, maybe it’s time the “Dicks” took a rest and let the “Pussies” have a crack at it. Maybe it’s time for a little compassion, sensitivity and nurturing. Maybe it’s time to try to understand the other person’s point of view/culture/way of life instead of just assuming ours is better.

Maybe it’s time for us to understand that “Political Correctness” is good for something more than the punchline in a tired stand-up comedy routine. It’s time to see the value in embracing someone in a hug rather than a head-lock. Understanding is better than blind obedience. Accepting people’s differences is better than forcing a false conformity. Women aren’t the same as men, but they are every bit as valuable as people and deserve full equality of opportunity and the right to live their lives free from the institutionalized abuses of patriarchy and misogyny.

So long “Dick Generations”… Welcome to “The Pussy Generation”!

Cheers, Winston

Morality For The Lost

A demon danced in dead man’s shoes,
His face turned to the rain.
An angel raged on through the night,
Adrift on seas of pain.

A babe new born an orphan lost,
Alone and powerless.
A demon too far gone to curse,
The angel cannot bless.

The babe, a child, grows up alone,
Ward of a careless state.
And still the demon dances on,
The angel curses fate.

The child becomes a young man now,
Most think he has no chance.
He’s seen the angel, knows his rage,
Has learned the demon’s dance.

He’s done some bad, he’s done some good,
He’s learned what’s right and wrong.
It isn’t what you do but why,
That drags your soul along.

A demon dances in the rain,
He wears a young mans face.
And those who see him watch in awe,
Angelic rage and grace.

He sees no absolutes in life,
In terms of wrong or right.
To him there’s only shades of grey,
Invisible at night.

Cheers, winston



So I believe and know this truth,
I am the same as you.
Not in the way I speak or look
Nor in the things I do.

It’s what we are that is the same,
This we should keep in mind.
And understand the falseness of,
Divisions that you find.

What matter gender, race or creed,
We dream our dreams as one.
To love and laugh and live our lives,
Content when we are done.

So next time someone does you wrong,
Think on your own mistakes.
Remember  They are You and I,
Be kind for all our sakes.

Cheers, Winston


I’m A Very Rash Person

I almost wrote no verse today,
My focus is not there.
I’ve got the plague, the walking death,
My skin hates me I swear.

It’s blistered, lumpy, burning, raw,
The itching drives me mad.
It’s spreading fast it’s spreading far,
My face looks really bad.

I do not know just what it is,
My doc’s a busy guy.
I really hope to see him soon,
Sometime before I die.

I think it might be fungal but,
It yet may prove me wrong,
It may have been bacterial,
Or viral all along.

But either way it matters not
I’m cutting this one short,
To fix myself another drink,
Doc Booze my last resort.

Cheers, Winston


Writers’ Dream

Immortal words upon the page,
A lasting legacy.
Which unborn generations yet
May read and think of me.

For in these words a man may live,
Far longer than his days.
That’s why one must choose carefully,
Exactly what he says.

Who wants to be remembered as,
A bully or a thug?
As a lackwit or a drunkard,
Can’t live without his jug?

I’d rather be forgotten than,
Remembered in that way.
That my words might touch a heart,
As ‘ neath the sod I lay.

So hopefully my verse will find,
It’s way into your soul.
And living there, you’ll pass it on,
That is this writers’ goal.

Cheers, Winston


The End Is Pricey

Beware! Beware! The end is near!
It’s nearly here I swear.
A doom, a doom is coming soon,
It’s doomy everywhere,

With doom and gloom and worse in store,
Trust me the end is nigh.
With all that is about to end,
What cause have I to lie?

I did not ask to see these things
I did not ask for fame.
Just buy my books and videos,
To learn more of my claim.

Economies are going to crash,
The terrorists arrive.
With plagues and famines, wars and such,
Most people won’t survive.

But in my books I’ll show you how,
To make it through the end.
I’ll help you prep to face it all,
So buy my vids my friend.

I’ve got the kit, the bugout bags,
For you and all your kin.
So buy your gear and guns and such,
You’ve got to spend to win.

Don’t worry if the end’s not yet,
It’s coming any day.
So hurry now and start your prep,
As long as you can pay.

Cheers, Winston


Soldiers’ Lament

For glory and for honour and,
To uphold what is right,
These are the answers given when,
They ask us why we fight.

They  point to battles fought and won,
To tyrants we’ve destroyed.
Talk like we’re saving everyone,
Each time we are deployed.

No longer are things black or white,
The wars have gotten grey.
Who’s in the right, who’s in the wrong,
Now changes every day.

We do our best to do it right,
Trust those who ship us out.
But when you read between the lines,
Sometimes can’t help but doubt,

But still we stand and still we serve,
And still we question not.
And when we’ve given everything,
We’re tossed aside. Forgot.

Cheers, Winston