Okay, Ms Snowflake, we could go back to arranged marriages, but I’m guessing you don’t want to do that. So in the post-patriarchal world, how exactly are men and women – or men and men, or women and women – to express an interest in each other? I know, I know. They signal that interest. And I’m pretty sure this is what we mean by – flirting.
Is there a line that can be drawn between flirting and sexual misconduct? A line that’s unindexed to culture and context? There is not. So to protect yourself and your fellow snowflakes from unwelcome attention, let’s just outlaw any and all flirtation and be done with it. Henceforth no man will ever express an interest in you. Happy now? Good.
But here’s the problem. Most women – and most men too – want to be the object of sexual interest. And they want this notwithstanding they might be happily married. I know I do. I know my wife does. In fact one of the ways I can make someone’s day – a friend, a complete stranger – is to compliment her on her appearance. In doing so am I telling her I want to fuck her? Almost never. I’m telling her she’s fuckable. And I’m telling her that even if she’s not. Why? Because I know of no woman, be she twenty or ninety, who doesn’t want to be told that. Well, other than you, Ms Snowflake.
I don’t know Andrew Cuomo. Maybe he’s a creep. But I doubt it. I’m guessing he’s what I’m told that I am. I’m charming. I have the focus-group data to prove it. I could be wrong, but I’m guessing there’s nothing Cuomo’s done that I don’t do whenever I can. I try to make someone’s day. That’s what makes me charming.
I’m trying to picture the charmless world Ms Snowflake would urge upon us. What’s it called? I know, I know. It’s what we mean by a dystopia.