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I’m going to start out up front by saying I’m not an expert in political theory in any way shape or form. Having said that, I’ve travelled all over the world and seen and experienced many different cultures. I’ve watched and read the news from multiple sources on a daily basis and it seems to me entirely possible that what’s happening in Egypt today, Tunisia just recently, and perhaps some other Arab states in the near future, is the birth of real, genuine democracy for these countries.

As a complete amateur, I think the pattern goes like this:

• Self-rule of some kind, probably through a royal family
• European power comes along and colonizes
• When the pressure gets too great 150 years later, colonial power pulls out
• Leaving what they say is a democratically elected government in place
• Which is quickly suborned into a despotic regime in which the powerful few make millions and everybody else suffers in poverty.
• This situation usually lasts for about 30 years after which
• People rise against the despot and demand changes
• The despot fights back, kills a few, imprisons a lot.
• People retreat to lick their wounds but
• Rise again with greater determination.
• Despot finds he has no alternative but to give in
• People travel rocky road to genuine democratic elections and stability returns

For the last almost ten years, various countries and armies have tried to sticky-tape democracy to countries like Iraq (see above pattern for where Saddam slotted in), with limited success. While we in the west firmly believe that democracy is the best thing since sliced bread, that doesn’t mean everybody else is ready to put down their porridge.

The sad fact is, democracy cannot be granted by somebody else. The only democracy that means anything is one that is demanded, desperately needed, and something for which at least a few people have died.

Until a people stand on rooftops for days on end and scream for their freedom, they will never value what democracy will bring them. If they don’t value it, they won’t protect it from the next despot that comes along.

I’ve travelled all through Egypt and found the people to be wonderful, generous and kind (well, except for that guy who wanted to give my father 100 camels for me) and nothing at all like the dreadful stereotype we’re handed these days of the crazy Arab/Muslim. They’re just people. They’re mostly poor with a very small chance of ever making anything of their lives. They’ve been kept that way because of President Mubarak and they want him out.

What’s happening in Egypt today is frightening – but it’s also necessary. This is the point where a country grows up and becomes an adult. I wish them luck – not just today and in the coming weeks, but over the next few years as these ordinary people learn what being free really means.

Image via Wikipedia

On this day in 1788, Captain Arthur Phillip landed the First Fleet in Port Jackson (Sydney Harbour) and founded the colony of Sydney. It is upon this foundation that we celebrate Australia Day today.

More than 700 convicts were included in the Fleet, along with sailors and soldiers  - and today, it’s even a little bit cool to trace your family back to a convict settler. There’s no doubt that those who survived those early years were incredibly hardy, determined and resourceful people. But for me in particular, I find the story of the women founders of this country to be quite amazing.

Outnumbered 4 to 1 by the men, the first 225 convict women arrived on the 3rd June, 1790.  After so long without women, their arrival heralded what can only be described as an orgy of … well, you get the picture. Once things settled down a little, women were put to work with the men, keeping the colony going, providing food and shelter and other… comforts.

Both these convict women and those of the local indigenous people were often used as unpaid prostitutes, house maids and concubines. Sexually transmitted disease was rife, as were illegitimate babies and deaths in childbirth. But enough of those women survived to pair up with and sometimes marry the men of the colony (if they were white) – mostly convicts and eventually the soldiers guarding them. They had children, created homes, tended their gardens and families and ultimately, helped in a multitude of ways, to create a growing civilization.

Other women made the enormous trip across the seas to Sydney Colony, too. Women who had been brought up to be anything but hardy and resourceful. Ladies who were married to the officers, all of whom came from the English gentry. More accustomed to needlework, socialising and the occasional baby birth, the rough and ready environment they landed in came as a tremendous shock. But many of them actually flourished in this place. Many of them, such as Elizabeth Macquarie, found herself up to the kind of challenge she would never have faced back in England.

Alas, our history doesn’t record too much of the contribution the ordinary women of Australia made in those early days and instead tends to focus on rebellions, escaped convicts, rum and the tragic consequences of the cultural clash with indigenous peoples. That’s not to say that those things aren’t important – because they are. But the women of Australia – both white and otherwise – had to endure and survive all of those same things, as well as bear children, suffer rape, and, for the most part, have little or no say in their own destinies. Their contribution was just as important as that of the men, and yet they are rarely acknowledged for it.

So today, for my Australia Day, I’m lifting a glass in toast to the amazing women who gave birth to the Australia we know today.  Well done. We literally couldn’t have done it without you.

The stats helper monkeys at WordPress.com mulled over how this blog did in 2010, and here’s a high level summary of its overall blog health:

The Blog-Health-o-Meter™ reads Wow.

Crunchy numbers

A Boeing 747-400 passenger jet can hold 416 passengers. This blog was viewed about 2,200 times in 2010. That’s about 5 full 747s.

In 2010, there were 41 new posts, not bad for the first year! There were 38 pictures uploaded, taking up a total of 5mb. That’s about 3 pictures per month.

The busiest day of the year was August 16th with 70 views. The most popular post that day was Open Letter to Julia Gillard.

Where did they come from?

The top referring sites in 2010 were facebook.com, huffingtonpost.com, healthfitnesstherapy.com, slashingtongue.com, and meetup.com.

Some visitors came searching, mostly for invictus letter, nelson mandela letter to invictus, open email letter, letter from invictus, and mandela letter invictus.

Attractions in 2010

These are the posts and pages that got the most views in 2010.

Open Letter to Julia Gillard August 2010
2 comments and 1 Like on WordPress.com,

Vaccination Battle Takes a Blow July 2010
5 comments

Signs From The Gods June 2010
4 comments

About April 2010

God of Love, Man of Ignorance August 2010
8 comments and 1 Like on WordPress.com,

Image by Abode of Chaos via Flickr

There’s nothing like a good public scandal to polarise opinion. And any scandal that involves international politics is right up there. I’m talking, of course, about Wikileaks and its erstwhile founder, Julian Assange who is currently in prison for, apparently, sleeping with the wrong girl. At least, that’s what the story appears to be about. But it also appears to be about political arm-twisting, loss of face, political laziness, and a sudden, burning need to not only shut the gate after the horse has bolted, but to go out, chop down the tree, saw the wood, throw on some hinges and build the gate from scratch.

There are a lot of things about this whole situation that intrigue me. For a start, Assange is in jail because he gave himself up of his own free will. But he was refused bail because he was a flight risk and might not turn up to court for his next appearance. I don’t want to be sarcastic – at least, not yet – but he did give himself up. Why would he do that if he had no intention of coming back? Surely it just would have been easier to not give himself up in the first place.

Then there are the declarations that by releasing these cables, he is breaking the law. This is a tricky one because I’m sure that if we really looked hard, we might find a couple of countries in which his actions are illegal – however, USA, Australia, Britain, Europe and most of Asia are none of those countries. In the strict terms of the law, publishing these cables is not illegal.

Of course, the American government doesn’t really care that it isn’t illegal – they just want it to stop, no matter what it takes. So they’ll probably make up a law and then make it retrospective – like they did with the Guantanamo Bay captives. This is a highly immoral direction to take and I’m hoping that Obama will decide against it in the end.

But they’ll still do their best to stop Assange, even if it means charging him with espionage for publishing the cables. But personally – not being a lawyer or anything – I’m not sure how that works. He didn’t steal the information, he just put it on his website. He vowed that he wouldn’t publish anything that would risk people’s lives, and so far that seems to be the case.

But what about all the others? All the other newspapers around the world that are publishing and printing the cables as they appear on the Wikileaks site. Are their editors going to get arrested and put on trial for espionage as well? After all, they’ve done exactly the same thing as Julian Assange. Or is it one rule for him and another for employees of Rupert Murdoch?

And what about the cyber attacks? Wikileaks has been under cyber attack for months, ramped up recently as these cables were gradually released. Then the global and political conspiracy to stop him widened as Visa and Mastercard refused to process donations, as Amazon cancelled his hosting account, as a Swiss Bank closed his account.

Seriously – have you ever heard of a Swiss banker closing an account for any criminal, psychpath or terrorist? No. Just this one man who published the world’s secrets.

Now Wikileaks supporters have attacked their sites and those of the Swedish government who are trying to arrest Assange on rape charges. While the American government will not admit – nor deny – that they are behind the cyber attacks on Wikileaks, a 16-year-old boy has admitted he’s behind one of the cyber attacks on Visa and Mastercard. So why is it okay for the government to use these weapons but not ordinary citizens? Why does Wikileaks have to put up with being attacked, but not be allowed to defend itself?

And of course, it’s hard to really get behind Assange because of those rape charges. It’s hard to really think of him as a Ned Kelly of our age because nobody likes a man who is guilty of sexual assault, no matter who he is (unless you’re a sportsman, in which case, everybody but the victim can turn a blind eye). His guilt hasn’t yet been tested in a court of law, but that hasn’t stopped a lot of people from condemning him anyway.

After an exhaustive investigation, the British Daily Mail have put together a largely objective timeline for the events leading up to Assange’s arrest – and they make for very interesting reading. If this investigation is correct, Assange is definitely guilty of having sex without a condom, and perhaps two-timing a woman who had offered him a couch to sleep on. Unwise actions yes, and in the case of the condom, patently stupid – but none of his actions would have even been commented upon if he were say, in a rock band. There is no doubt that the case has snowballed in such a way simply because it involves Julian Assange.

Governments wish to stop Wikileaks – but they can’t. Even if they successfully closed down the sites (impossible, given there are at least 350 clones), another site would simply pop up in its place. So far the contents of the cables has been no more than embarassing. No governments have fallen, no wars have been declared. But some people, such as America’s National Idiot, Sarah Palin, devoted Christian that she is, have demanded he be assassinated.

And all for telling the truth. I remember my mother telling me as a child that I should always tell the truth.

Make no mistake – this is a battle royal, quite possibly one of the most important events of the 21st century. This is where the supporters of free speech and a completely free internet do battle with the agents of governments and corporations. This is where the battle lines are being drawn, between those who wish to control, and those who have the tools to make their voices heard regardless. Hackers who are battling against Visa and Mastercard are doing so from their own living rooms, with virtually no resources other than their fingers and their passion for liberty.

At the same time, governments have, over the last 20 years, refused to do anything to protect the privacy of those who use the internet, repeatedly manipulating trolled data as a weapon, allowing massive corporations to indulge in social engineering and targeted advertising. Privacy, they have told us repeatedly, is dead. So why is it okay for our secrets to be made public and for corporations to make money from them, but secrets of the governments who make these rules must be kept secret? These are the questions now echoing around the world.

Love him or hate him, Julian Assange and Wikileaks have changed the world forever. Laws will change, the landscape will shift and evolve – and all, hopefully, without a drop of blood being spilled.

This is revolution in the new millennium.

Related Articles

• Hackers bring down credit-card site (theage.com.au)
• Cyber group says WikiLeaks attacks to grow (theglobeandmail.com)
• WikiLeaks supporters vow to step up cyber attacks (reuters.com)

Image by Rusty Stewart via Flickr

I know this is going to sound odd and a little strange – but I love voting. I don’t love elections – god, how much more boring could they be? – but I do love voting. Now, I admit that my love of voting is relatively recent. It was about ten years ago when I stepped into a polling booth, picked up a pencil and paused to take the moment in. No, I wasn’t on some sort of drug, nor was I dazed from a recent knock on the head. At least, not the kind you’re thinking of.

No, the knock on my head that made me pause before I put my mark on the paper in my hand was of an entirely different kind. See, our election at that time was just a few days after the first, real, free elections in East Timor. This fledgling country was desperately trying to escape the clutches of a dominating and domineering foreign power, and these elections were their first attempt at choosing their own future. But it wasn’t so easy for them. Voters were beaten up, threatened, shot and killed. Anti-election riots caused the deaths of dozens across the country. But the people of East Timor doggedly pursued democracy and voted nonetheless.

On that day when I stood in the polling booth, all I could see was snatches of those pictures of violence and mayhem I’d seen on television. I then looked around me at the quiet polling station, the desks where pleasant middle-class people crossed voters’ names off their lists before handing them their voting cards. I could hear traffic outside and the noise of children heading to the beach.

When I put my mark on my ballot paper, I felt an unbelievable sense of freedom. And privilege. I can’t believe how lucky I am to live in a country where the biggest danger I’ll experience on polling day is a paper cut. Where the only thing I have to fear is the wrong party winning the election. Where the most difficult thing I’ll have to do that day is make sure I don’t forget to head to the polling booth.

I love voting. Seriously, can you think of any other time when somebody – anybody – asks you what you think? I love the fact that voting is my opportunity to make the government listen to what I have to say. It’s written into our constitution that I get to have my say on a regular basis. And it doesn’t matter what colour I am, age, religion – or gender. It doesn’t matter whether I think all politicians are bastards, or angels (although, honestly is it possible anybody could think that?). It doesn’t matter what my opinion is – only that I have the opportunity to voice it.

Not that long ago, in fact, less than 100 years, I would not have been able to vote  - because I’m a woman. When the first of what we consider ‘democratic’ societies began, back in ancient Greece, women couldn’t vote. Actually, there were a lot of things women couldn’t do, including owning property, making their own decisions, or going outside the house. I’m delighted to say that things have come a long way for most of us. But believe it or not, 3,000 years later, there are still countries out there that don’t allow women to vote (don’t get me started).

Universal suffrage is still relatively new in the west, so new that we don’t really appreciate the effort it took to achieve, and we don’t really remember those who got it for us. But today, we live in a wealthy, stable, peaceful democracy – because we all vote.

Something else that hasn’t changed much in 3,000 years: politicians. They make elections insufferable. But in the long run, I can put up with them, because at the end of the election, I get to have my say. I get to stand in that dinky little cardboard ‘booth’ and put my mark in pencil on the paper. And then I get to walk away, unmolested. And every time I do it, I feel free.

Yeah, I love voting.

Image by Barbara.Doduk via Flickr

Here, in the West, we like to have our opinions. Some of us even go to the extreme and express those opinions in, of all things, a blog! (Ahem) Now, we may argue and berate from time to time. And we’ve all called our opponent an idiot – well, okay, I’ll admit to it even if you won’t. There have, I know, even been occasions when a difference of opinion leads to a difference in a right and left cross. But in the end, when it’s all done and dusted, we know it’s just a difference of opinion. We may wish our opponent would shut the %$&! up, but it’s not the end of the world if we let him hang onto his stupid beliefs.

Alternatively, you could live in a country like Pakistan, where Asia Bibi has been sentenced to death for blasphemy.

Yes, that’s right, blasphemy. Off the top of your head, can you give me the dictionary definition of the word? No? That’s because it’s an ancient ‘crime’ that many countries have rightfully removed from their statutes. They removed it because they realised that a healthy democracy requires freedom of opinion, and freedom to express those opinions, even if some of them are stupid. Alas.

Asia Bibi committed no real crime. As a christian farm hand, the mother of five was asked to fetch water for her co-workers. The muslim women in her group wouldn’t drink the water, saying it was ‘unclean’ because a christian had fetched it.

Religion – don’t you just love it?

An argument ensued and Asia had to be rescued by the local police. Later she was set upon by a group of locals and beaten up. They then came at her with a charge of blasphemy.

Basically, they couldn’t get rid of her any other way, so they resorted to one of the oldest tricks in the book – bullying.

That’s what the ‘crime’ of blasphemy actually is. The dictionary says: A contemptuous or profane act, utterance, or writing concerning God or a sacred entity. So, by this definition, anything you say about any god can be considered as blasphemous. In short, it’s a claim that can be made to silence anything you say. Like I said, bullying.

Blasphemy isn’t about offence, although that’s what people claim – because offence is in the ears of the beholder. As a human being, I can effectively be offended about pretty much anything (well, anything except Hugh Jackman, who is genetically designed to be totally inoffensive on every level!). But that doesn’t mean everything around me is offensive. It just means I’m taking it to be offensive.

Using offensiveness as a reason to silence opinion in the law is offensive in itself. But blasphemy goes way beyond simple offence. Accusing somebody of blasphemy is the same as saying, “My opinions are more important than yours, my beliefs more important than yours. It’s more important that I not be offended than you.”

It’s a statement of superiority. A claim to power. A tool of oppression. And it’s a tool that’s only ever used by religious people to silence those who disagree with them. That’s actually where it began, in early christian times, when the crime of heresy was designed to protect the fledgling religion from dissenting voices. As nations grew, religion flourished and blasphemy became necessary to control a population too willing to think for itself. The controlling of public opinion about religion was important if your power stemmed from your divine right to rule. Millions of people over the centuries have been martyrs to blasphemy, belonging to the wrong religion – or worse still, believing in none.

But there are still countries in this world today that execute people for blasphemy. And even in the west, high profile and narrow-minded priests still use the word when they get riled. Although they can no longer burn people at the stake for having different opinions, the legacy of having that kind of power can sometimes be seen in the way they continue to exercise it. As though silencing opinion changes the facts.

Asia Bibi is the wrong faith in a country that openly persecutes any religion that isn’t Islam. Blasphemy is simply an excuse, as it always is. If their belief and their god are so powerful, why would anything she – a heathen – could say matter? The problem is not Pakistan. It’s the routine use of religion as a weapon. Which has always been so very easy to do.

50 Cent, the infamous rapper, has even gone so far as to recommend that gay kids should kill themselves. A number of very public right-wing and/or religious figures have responded by comparing sexuality with some form of deformity or contagious illness. Most christian religions condemn anything other than heterosexuality as being some form of evil – and almost all of them repeat the same lie, that sexuality is a lifestyle choice, while never acknowledging that they, themselves never chose to be straight (if indeed they are).

Such attitudes not only display a deep lack of what they like to call ‘christian’ charity, and a distinct hatred for people that they don’t even know – they also demonstrate their utter ignorance of anything to do with sexuality. Science has shown us that sexuality is determined in the womb, by a complex combination of factors. Choice is not a factor at all.

And yet, these poor kids are hounded from their own level, and those above them, telling them that there is something wrong with them, and that they deserve everything they get. This bullying often goes on for years and in the intense, confusing, ever-changing world of adolescence (oh, yes, I remember mine very clearly) the effects are felt ten-fold. It doesn’t surprise me that these and other kids have sought extreme solutions – it just amazes me that more kids don’t follow the same path.

So I have been heartened over the last couple of weeks, to see the “It Gets Better” campaign take root. Not just that it’s there – but the people who have joined in, and not all of them LGBTQ either. All have important messages to deliver, and all from the heart. But this one below is one of my favourites – largely because it applies not only to LGBTQ kids, but also to those of us who just grew up feeling a bit different to everyone else. The message still has meaning, even for me, today, when I’m perfectly happy and content being different.

If you have kids, share these with them, too. These are important things for us all to know.

What it doesn’t explain, unfortunately, is why those some of those with belief expend so much hatred on those that do not believe. Atheists don’t go around yelling to believers that they should just die, or be burned at the stake. In fact, atheists are generally very gentle, non-violent people who look at all the death and destruction performed in the name of gods and wish it would stop. Atheists certainly don’t go out looking for believers to kill – and yet, in some religions, that’s perfectly acceptable. Given that, as babies, a lack of belief is the default position, why do believers feel so much hatred – or feel so threatened – by those who do not believe?

I don’t get it. I really don’t. And if somebody out there would like to enlighten me, I’d appreciate it. I mean, what’s it all about? What is a saint, exactly? A half-human, half-god? If so, whatever happened to the whole ‘one god’ religion? If not, then how come she has the power to cure people of deadly diseases? I thought god was the only one supposed to have control over life and death. At least, that’s the excuse right-to-lifers have when they shoot people for carrying out abortions, or those people who sneered when the Nobel Prize for Medicine this year was given to the person who perfected IVF treatment. So if god has a monopoly on life and death – how did Mary McKillop save anybody’s life? If she didn’t do it herself, but god did it – then why are we making her a saint?

See – I have a lot of questions. They’ve been chasing each other around in my brain for months, ever since I heard the Vatican had accepted her second ‘miracle’. I did find it amusing they they’d done so after allegedly exhaustive investigation. I mean, how exhaustive could it have been? They saw the woman was still alive and threw their hands up in the air. “It’s a miracle,” they cried.

Which only begs a few more questions, really. For a start – how come only two miracles? I’m sure there were more than two people praying to Mary for help – was she so stingy she couldn’t help more than two? Or were the two the only ones she felt deserved it? What about all the children that have suffered in the meantime? You can’t honestly tell me they don’t deserve the help of a budding saint.

But more to the point – how come only two miracles – I mean, as far as the Vatican is concerned. It used to be three miracles before they’d consider sainthood. I mean, what’s that about? Are you trying to tell me that the Catholic Church – the same church that says it won’t budge on major issues like women priests, condoms, contraception use, homosexuality and abortion because of tradition – but when it suits them, they can short-cut what should be a pretty important criteria and just declare a saint at will?

And how does that work, exactly? Was Mary born a saint – was she born with some god genes in her, and just used her special skills after she died and went to heaven? Does that mean she was made special by god? If so, why has the pope just recognised it all these years later? And if god didn’t make her that way, who is the pope to decide that she’s a special person? Surely that’s god’s job?

I’m also confused about the type of miracles she performed. She was a school teacher, not a doctor – and yet, her miracles were of the healing type. For some reason – I’m not sure why – but these days the Vatican only makes saints out of people who have healing miracles. They don’t seem to go for the more showy miracles these days. Folks like Moses and his parting of the red seas these days would be slapped back down as simple magicians with silly party tricks only children would fall for.

But it’s true. Saints used to perform all sorts of miracles, but not any more. That’s because they cheat. The Vatican, I mean. See, if you’re going to claim a miracle that you don’t want anybody to prove false, the only one available is the healing miracle. Let’s face it, we’re all pretty sophisticated, modern human beings these days, even those in less developed countries. We all know that rain comes from the sky and that lightning is part of a weather pattern. Conjuring tricks can be seen on TV any day or night – so there’s nothing much left for the modern saint to do but heal.

And here’s the thing I really don’t understand. Why it is that the media in Australia swallowed the whole sainthood circus like it was real? There was never any scientific investigation of the ‘miracles’ – and yet, they’re reported as fact. How does that happen? How did our otherwise skeptical nation suddenly turn into a bunch of hoodoo believers? It was embarrassing! Are we really so desperate to be visible on the world stage, like a neglected child begging for Mummy’s attention?

And we shouldn’t be so flattered. Mary was made a saint to take the heat off the child abuse cases. Suddenly, we’ve all forgotten what a monster the church has been towards the victims, how it has supported the perpetrators. It’s all been brushed under the plush, hand-woven by blind nuns guilt carpet.

But what makes me most angry about the whole farce is that, in an almost-completely male ceremony, Mary McKillop was transformed. In the future, we will no longer remember her for her good works – the things she actually did with her passion for education as an antidote to poverty and her strength in standing up to clerical child abuse. Instead, we’ll remember her for two silly things she didn’t do.

I know, I have to stop. My problem is, I’m trying to make sense of it all. But how can I make sense of something that actually never made any sense in the first place.

Image via Wikipedia

This is a big question: who owns my body? The obvious answer, you’d think, is me. And in an ordinary conversation, nobody would argue with me. But the moment I step outside my house, I’m faced with a multitude of arguments – and none of them take my wishes into account at all.

If I go to a football match (doesn’t matter which code), I’ll inevitably see women represented there in the shape of shapely cheerleaders in their amazingly skimpy outfits. Amazing that they stay on while they leap and gyrate in front of the crowd, each routine a dance filled with hip thrusts and butt wiggles suggestive of only one thing. Culturally, cheerleading has migrated from the US and isn’t an Australian tradition – but you don’t hear anybody complaining about this Americanism. And, also culturally, we look down upon these girls as air-heads, too stupid to do anything else for a living.

It’s not the dancing that bothers me. It’s the relationship between the male players playing their important football match, and these decorative creatures on the sideline, perhaps there to provide enough contrast to enhance the masculinity of the players? Either way, the men are there doing while the women thrust out their boobs and gushingly cheer them on. It’s sickening.

But football isn’t alone. Take a look at motor racing. Again, code is irrelevant. If you walk around the Australian Formula One compound during racing week, you could be forgiven for thinking you’d accidentally wandered into a strip club with the amount of carefully oiled flesh on display across numerous team stages. Knee-high white boots, bikini tops and shorts that provide only the suggestion of modesty are what the world looks for in racing. That and a bunch of men driving powerful cars around and around a track. Again, men do the important work, and the girls – always incredibly beautiful – are all over them. On the podium, the winner is surrounded by these women, hanging off him as though they are proud members of his hareem.

In the interests of fairness, I need to mention that in the last two years, the Formula One organizers have thrown in a couple of semi-naked guys just to show they aren’t sexist.

Thanks for that.

And it’s not just sport where we see this. Hip-hop music, admittedly not known for its open and egalitarian approach to women, is perhaps the greatest exponent of ownership display you can see today. There’s hardly a male artist out there who doesn’t appear in every video clip surrounded by half-naked women, grinding themselves against him from every side. Oh, how will he choose which… oh, wait, he doesn’t need to choose. He can have them all.

Of course, it’s likely that none of these girls is being forced to perform on these stages. And sure, the law of averages insists that some of them may not be all that bright. But what about the rest of them? Why do it? Are they blind to the messages they send out?

But the question I really want answered is – why are they employed in the first place? In this supposedly enlightened era, when we claim we don’t treat women as sex objects, that we respect women and treat them equally, why do we instead display them as objects to decorate the actions of men? In this context, women are used to enhance the virility of men, to suggest, perhaps subconsciously, that these great heroes are servicing a whole brood of women – beautiful women that other men covet.

I wonder if any of them have thought about how the women in the audience feel when they see these objects displayed in front of them. I’ll bet questions about how their wives, mothers, sisters and daughters might feel probably don’t register often.

If they did, these men might realise that this display of ownership, of staking a claim, of trumpeting virility and crowing about it only makes women embarassed and humiliated. Oh, we smile and say we don’t mind, that it’s just a bit of harmless fun. But it isn’t.

Women aren’t objects. We don’t belong to men to be displayed like trophies. We own our own bodies. If these men are so great and wonderful at what they do, they shouldn’t need anybody to prop them up. Women certainly don’t.