What a man has to do

The news is making me ill

What has a man got to do to be universally shunned and declared a piece of shit?

This week I saw horrific headlines, I read upsetting articles. Then I messaged pals. Nothing is changing, nothing will change. That is the DMs chorus. This cheap group therapy isn’t raising our ships. I have cried twice in public these past few days. I wear cheap mascara in Day-Glo packaging. Its grey streaks down my cheek is what happens to the warpaint of the losing side.

I don’t want to link to the news today. One of the items involves a writer who has brought me comfort for over a decade. I have spent tenners upon tenners on imported magazines to read her words. Learning about what happened to her is like a friend telling you a secret you’re not quite ready for. You can’t school your face into the right kind of sympathy quick enough. You’re on the bloodless, dropped stomach stage of processing.

Then there are the people on the internet, the people who exist and breathe in real life, who seem to see a domestic incident reported by neighbours as an intrusion into a couple’s privacy. As something unfair to have happened to a man who looks like he shouts.

I want to know, what has a rich white man got to do to lose his public footing, his societal privilege, his fans? What is the beyond the pale action? Was there ever one? I’m starting to suspect it might be the kicking of an evolved-to-be-cute whimpering dog. Because it sure as hell isn’t harming or endangering half the human race.