My father was a writer. He wrote all of his life, inflicting upon many of us his novels, plays, articles, essays, and self-help books. Some were marvelous; some merely well-intentioned. But of all the things he wrote, his journal is his legacy: by turns wise and bewildering, it neared 1,100 type-written pages when he died in 2010. Although perused many times, this is the first time it will be read - cover to cover, page after page.
Wednesday, March 4, 2015
Wrong Inferences
They seem to infer that not to be one thing (be it feminist, Christian, liberal, or any number of other things) is to be its opposite, and so antagonistic. It is a silly way to be and suggests at least some things are less secure than the noise surrounding them would want to suggest.
Labels:
insecurity,
interpretations,
perception,
silliness
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