“So why was [19th Century Philosopher and awesome party guy] Nietzche such a misogynist?” I found myself asking my husband the other day. Perhaps it was because we were sitting in the shadow of our new bookcases and I felt inspired to engage in intellectual conversation, most particularly by my 17th edition copy of “MY SWEET AUDRINA” with that shiny silver writing and all.
“Well, it’s said that Nietzche was a sickly weak man who lived his whole life being cared for and bossed around by his mother and his sister,” my husband remarked. “They say he never ‘met’ another woman. You know what I mean by met?” Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.
“Yes, yes,” I said, not turning my mind to the art of “meeting”, as I’m sure my husband would have liked me to. “You’re cared for and bossed around by me, but you’re not a misogynist.”
“Oh, no, no.” said my husband. “I have no problem with most women. Just some.” And he then looked at me in a way that made me think that, had I not been the Love of His Life (etc), he might not appreciate my gentle coercion for him to bend entirely to my will.
In any case, I should now confess that Virginia Andrews’ masterpiece (which heavily involves a rocking chair and a woman with no legs) was not the impetus for my questions about Nietzche, though god knows it should have been. My impetus was actually my husband’s latest “Box Ted” adventure (you may remember Box Ted from previous posts such as “A Husband By Any Other Name” and, er, that’s it). It turns out that the Talking Cupboard has taken up some less than socially acceptable habits: misogyny and smoking. Check this out:
“Why is he smoking?” I asked my husband.
“You are so set in your ideas about what a cupboard can and can’t do that you won’t just let Box Ted be himself,” my husband remarked. “Anyway, he only has two eyes and a mouth, he’s going to get pretty bored. Taking up smoking seemed like his own option.”
“But if he doesn’t have arms, then how does he light his cigarette?”
“He was ‘cared for by his mother and sister’ is how.” my husband replied, quite pleased with his answer and with himself.
“Okay,” I said. “I guess, then, the tobacco companies need to issue some different warnings on their packs than the usual SMOKING KILLS variety. Perhaps SMOKING CAN SET YOU ON FIRE?”
“I can draw up a sample pack for you,” my husband kindly offered. “And you know how I know I can do it?”
“Because it just requires me to draw a box. I’m good at drawing boxes.”
At least he knows his own limits. Unlike Box Ted, who has, in other adventures, been pictured waterskiing and wearing a pork pie hat. Not to mention, making a guest appearance in this Mr Justice “spin off” series.
Who knows where all this is leading? Let’s just say (quietly now, without drawing too much attention to myself) help… they’ve got me surrounded… they’ve got pens and paper and everything… please…