pallis

Hey there buddy chum pal firend buddy pal chum bud friend falla bruther amigo pal buddy firend chummy chum chum pal ! I don’t mean to be rude, my firend home slice bread slice dawg, but i gotta warn ya, if u take one more diddly darn step right there im gonna have to diddly darn snap ur neck and wowza wold'ny that be a crummy juncture, huh? Do you want that ? Do you wish upon yourself to come into physical experience with a crummy juncture ? Because friend buddy chum friend chum pally pal chum friend, if u keep this up then well gosh diddly darn i just might have to get not so friendly with u my friendly friend friend pal friend buddy chum pally friend chum buddy-
—  Dazai Osamu, probably

And, increasingly, to redeem the cruel inadequacies of mortal men, the Right offers women the love of Jesus, beautiful brother, tender lover, compassionate friend, perfect healer of sorrow and resentment, the one male to whom one can submit absolutely—be Woman as it were—without being sexually violated or psychologically abused.

It is important and fascinating, of course, to note that women
never, no matter how deluded or needy or desperate, worship
Jesus as the perfect son. No faith is that blind. There is no religious
or cultural palliative to deaden the raw pain of the son’s betrayal of the mother: only her own obedience to the same father, the sacrifice of her own life on the same cross, her own body nailed and bleeding, can enable her to accept that her son, like Jesus, has come to do his Father’s work. Feminist Leah Fritz, in Thinking Like a Woman, described the excruciating predicament of women who try to find worth in Christian submission: “Unloved, unrespected, unnoticed by the Heavenly Father, condescended to by the Son,
and fucked by the Holy Ghost, western woman spends her entire
life trying to please.

—  Andrea Dworkin, Right-Wing Women