aligators and sharks and rattlers
not like lions and tigers and bears –
oh, my! –
and all are football-themed mascots, too,
and all rate an “oh, my!” Not!.
The Argument however now rages:
is Winnie* boy or girl?
- (Under-heard half- – okay, one-quarter! – listening to NPR between AM station commercials unentertaining enough to keep me glued – this came over the ether: a debate currently rages on the gender identity of Winnie The Pooh.
- Oh, My! Are you Nationalistas of Public Ra-did-i-oh trying to tell me I am a closet beargenderist? What will my own teddy who was my favorite pre-teen astronaut, taking long spinning and sometimes tumbling launches from bed-to-ceiling during my pre-sleep bores have to say now that I have been unmasked as a closet genderist? I never looked. And I sure did not feel! You think even if I had I would admit such now and earn a label of tookist or feelist? What fetish for fertilizer!
- And, I must report, I detected not slurring of words from the radio indicating tongues firmly en-cheeked or brain-housing-groups thoroughly pickled. Poor Pooh! Poor A.A.! Milne must be counter-rotating en-casket so to spin.
- And, then in the mail came this gem: The University of Florida’s Women’s Studies program issued a basket of brightworks celebrating its 40th year of intimidating the College of Liberal Arts (and farts) And Sciences into granting it status well past its worth. More on such later. The title they have appended themselves tells the poor downtrodden academics and would-be scholars in Gainesville these people who study gender – and well-past that – are not to be discounted, or even marked – up or down? – in any manner but thundering applause. Makes me some glad I eschewed matriculation thereat to participate in the Southeast Asia WarGames Symposia instead.