Risk is fun.
Risk is hard; it is an unforgiving mistress.
Risk should only be played with people you already hate, or with people whom you will learn to forgive, and they you. Risk is the destroyer of people, friendships, and nations alike. Risk sorts out the winners from the losers; the strong from the weak.
I love Risk, but there’s a problem: Risk takes a long time, and usually devolves into kamakazi moves and utter recklessness. As this is usually the end result, why not expedite the whole thing? And why not add alcohol into the mix?
I recently got into a bit of an argument with a man on twitter.
That actually does sound as stupid as I thought I would, having written it down. Regardless, I got into an argument with him over the topic of feminism. He described himself as ‘anti-feminist’ and this was the only thing in his twitter profile, so I really should have known better.
In our longer than I’m proud to admit … well, let’s call it a discussion, I learned a couple things. This post is part rant, part debate primer, and part personal declaration. Before you read on though, I’m going to give a quick warning: this is probably way heavier than anything else you’ll read on my site. It’s rare I post stuff like this. Ye be warned, etc. etc.