… they just can’t take a joke.

When one reaches ‘a certain age’, it starts to dawn on one that one’s fellow travellers on this blue dot haven’t progressed quite as much as one had expected – especially back when one was in one’s third decade.

This one’s third decade coincided with the 70’s: the one after the sixties, when bra-burning and free love was just another spin on blokes optimizing their tit-count. Much less fraught and earnest, the seventies was when we started to take the idea of gender equality a bit more seriously. I say ‘we’, meaning everyone but The Establishment, Suburbia, the Home Counties, most Employers, the Government… OK, as far as I know, me and my mates.

But even so, to be as honest as I dare, I don’t think I’ve exactly shone as a beacon of respect with respect to women. In fact, to be perfectly honest, I only ever knew one man who I could say always treated women with perfect equanimity… while I was a Complete Bastard. At least by comparison.

But but but… along the way I have (I hope) developed somewhat and have become increasingly disappointed that it seems that no one else has (apart from one or two good friends – hello Robert and Mark – and, to be honest, a good few shining lights out there – hello Graham).

And lately I’m getting a tad hacked-off with the amount of crap out there being thrown at women by primitives. It’s not just the obvious inequality that bothers me (the lack of women either in government or on panel shows is an indication of just how far we have come along the path towards full equality: that is, not far), it’s the out-and-out vicious, callous and mindlessly derogatory shit that women have to deal with.

From the BBC:

A man has been warned after he dialled 999 to complain about a prostitute’s looks after meeting her.

West Midlands Police said they were contacted by the caller who said he “wished to report her for breaching the Sale of Goods Act”.

This one is a prime example of the difference between something that makes you laugh, and something that’s funny. And honestly, it made me laugh, but it isn’t funny at all. In fact, it’s wrong wrong wrong on so many levels, and I laughed at the shock of the idea that there is a man out there who doesn’t see the problem with complaining about a woman’s looks. A woman whom he is about to pay for sex, godammit.

From Australia:

The Australian prime minister Julia Gillard has recently been the victim of misogyny by pond-life masquerading as the right wing opposition. At a fundraising banquet organised by the National Liberal Party candidate Mal Brough, the menu offered “Julia Gillard Kentucky Fried Quail – Small Breasts, Huge Thighs and a Big Red Box”.

The leader of the opposition condemned the incident, calling the menu “tacky”. That’s it: the head of the pond-life reacted by calling it tacky. Perhaps he would have suggested a more tasteful way of insulting her.

More recently, Ms Gillard has been asked by an interviewer on Fairfax Radio – one Howard Sattler – if her husband was homosexual… because he was a hairdresser.

Beware Mr Sattler of hairdressers wielding cut-throat razors.

And from Slovenia:

Oh my good giddy aunt, where do I start?

OK, so Slovenia is hugely patriarchal and will take many years yet to drag itself into the last century, let alone this. So let’s just stick with the one Slovenian woman you might have heard of: the prime minister, Alenka Bratušek.

And suffice to say that the great majority – not snide little remarks, but the majority – of media coverage is focussed on Ms Bratušek’s clothing. This is the leader of a country who has taken over from a man who has been convicted of fraud (and accused of much, much more), and is currently doing her level best to dig Slovenia out of the hole dug by said former prime minister.

And the very worst aspect of this sorry tale? Many of her ‘fashion detractors’ are… women.

So, in honour of Alenka Bratušek, I bring you a whole new word: missogyny.

While traipsing for an image of Ms Bratušek, I happened across a website by a Slovenian man – Pengovsky – who defends said prime minister. So hats off to him.

And lastly, I’ll leave you with some words from Sting. (Beware of the annoying advert at the beginning).

No, not lastly, as I just found this glimpse into the world of, yes you guessed it: Islam (but don’t think we can rest on our soft western laurels!). I mustn’t comment further, or I’ll get into all sorts of trouble.