To start, you should know I’m 38.

I saw a very young-looking girl leaning out of a pickup truck today, smoking. She looked about 11 or 12, maybe 13. And I thought “she looks like she shouldn’t be smoking” and then I had an internal debate about what the smoking age is, and decided it’s not (?) 16, and then landed on “well, maybe she’s 18 and is just lucky to look young.” AND THAT WAS NOT A THOUGHT I WANTED TO HAVE.

We need to stop infantilizing women to the point that we constantly think that younger is better and the younger the better. It’s insane and demeaning and insulting, and I’m still getting it wrong, despite knowing better! That’s how pervasive it is!

I had a talk with my friend Ricky recently about how much harder it is to fight against a pervasive idea than a new concept. There’s a david/goliath thing with a big new concept, where you have a definite thing to fight against. But when something is pervasive, it’s exhausting to constantly bring up these little things over and over and over. People are fairly familiar with this when it comes to microaggressions. Age for women is that.

At lunch today I went into a little meal prep place to check it out, and ended up chatting with the owner. She interrupted herself to ask if I went to the local school. I said I did in elementary school, but went to the local private school for high school. In an effort to pin down whether we knew each other at the time, she told me her age, which is my age. It was an interesting way to go about it — usually you’d say “I graduated in ’99,” but for whatever reason, it felt normal to have a conversation that went “I’m 38.” “I’m 38 too!” That’s new in a way that I haven’t experienced since I was about 7. (We know each other.)

I get a lot of double-takes on my ID, and I think that is mostly to do with my hair. For reference:

However, while wine tasting this past weekend, I got ID’d twice to taste. I think it was just winery policy to ask everyone for ID at those two places. That’s all good. However, at one the woman looked at my ID, double-taked, then said “I did not expect that.” And I don’t know what that means! And I don’t know why it’s still niggling in my brain. Who cares.

I guess I still care, since I’ve been indoctrinated into feeling badly about being An Age. I also firmly reject that! I love being 38! It’s the best! Hands down, it’s been my best year to date. You know what’s going to be so awesome? 39! Holy shit, I cannot wait! So much fun stuff is gonna happen when I’m 39! I can already tell! And 40 is going to be the tits!

Real talk: I love getting grey hair. You may not be able to tell I love it, since my hair is colored (gasp, don’t tell anyone), but I genuinely feel so distinguished with grey hair. I may not actually be august in any sense of the word, but I enjoy the association. And wrinkles! I adore crows feet. You know how you can tell that something is well-loved? It’s got stains and is worn and has patina? That’s my face, to me. It’s lived in. I’m comfortable with it. I like the signs of aging, even though we are really supposed to hate those!

I have “old” parents (they had me at nearly 40), so I have always thought old isn’t whatever age my parents are. They’re currently 76, so by my lights, 76 isn’t old yet. Photos tell me this isn’t quite accurate, but memory tells me that they’ve always had grey hair and wrinkles. I can tell you the feel of my mom’s soft creased cheek. I know my dad’s beard’s shade of white. These genuinely beautiful things about them are there because they’re well lived. And they’re also happy with themselves, and I feel really lucky to have grown up around that.

But I still reflexively thought a little kid was lucky to look like an even littler kid. I’m so disappointed in myself, not to mention sort of grossed out. Tomorrow is a new day to be determined to fight against the insidious message that women are more valuable as girls, and an old woman is irrelevant. All female types are valuable, whether a baby, a kid, a girl, a teen, or a woman. Whether they were born that way or came to it later in life. Our lives are valuable at any age.

He Him His

There are few consistently annoying things as being referred to by the wrong gender. It can be done out of maliciousness, aggressiveness, or laziness (or all three). It doesn’t happen to straight men routinely, daily, so for many of them, they just won’t have the frame of reference. But for almost everyone else, it’s almost humdrum to be referred to incorrectly. Of course, for transgender or gender-non-conforming folk there is a lot of baggage around gender and pronouns, and the same can be said for many in the LBGTQ community – and that is much more fraught and not humdrum at all. But even in a broader sense, if you’re not a male, you’ve probably been referred to many, many times as male.

It happened to me today, in the way it almost always happens – online, reading copy that was supposed to be consumed by the default customer.

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…if the customer has paid his bills for service for the preceding twelve consecutive bills without having had service discontinued for nonpayment of bill or had more than two occasions in which a bill was not paid when it became due, and the customer is not then delinquent in the payment of his bills.

The only problem being that I am not a him or a his, and a him or a his has never paid this bill, and is not on the account.

The problem with using the male as default is that the male isn’t default. Men would think it ridiculous – laughable – if suddenly the English-speaking world flipped and started using she/her/hers for everything. They’d talk non-stop about how childish it is. There would be constant point-counter-point shows running. It would be around the clock. And yet, we non-men deal with this every day, and when we point out how dumb it is, eyes are rolled. We are mocked, even ridiculed.

Here’s something deeply important to remember about feminism. A couple of somethings, actually, and they are kissing cousins:

  1. Feminism isn’t about I, it is about We.
  2. Feminism is about equality.

It doesn’t matter if I personally experience something – I am generally treated pretty well for a woman; if a cop stops me, I know I won’t be shot, if a neighbor stops me, I know I won’t be asked if my kids are mine, if I go to the hospital, I’ll probably get medical care on par with a man. But I have a voice to use, and a vote to use, to help point out these issues and give them attention. At the very least, we owe them our attention – all of us. It’s not about me. I get paid well. I should still be screaming that women get paid 72 cents on the dollar, because that is not ok. I don’t face the same risks a black mother does when I give birth (you are far more likely to die in childbirth if you’re black, by the way, because we don’t value black lives as a society), but I should still be megaphone in hand addressing that this is happening. Because it is NOT OK. It also doesn’t matter if some weasely man says “well, I didn’t get any of these advantages – feminism is fake” – because it’s not about you. YOU are irrelevent. It is about usAll of us.

The incorrect/male default gender pronouns? That’s something that’s impossible to deny. It’s everywhere. Women (and others in the LBGTQ community) repeatedly have their selfhood denied, their identities subsumed by their partner’s identity. I set up my AllState account before I was married. I manage the account. I am the only one the agents have ever met. All of them send the mail to my husband. I set up our family YMCA account. Everyday, I see that my husband is listed as the account owner. My husband is always the borrower and I’m stuck as co-borrower (and it doesn’t have to do with credit – mine is better). Despite everyone saying it doesn’t matter who is listed as borrower and co-borrower, I have never been listed first. Not once. I’m not the default.

Time has an article here on gender pronouns. You can read about what the APA says here (they’re not fully on-board, but do say that you should definitely not use the male as the default), and you can see Indiana University’s breakdown here. Merriam Webster accepts “they” as a singular pronoun.



Do we even need feminism?

Spoiler: yes.

Bill Cosby was found guilty of drugging and raping women yesterday. I don’t know a single woman who wasn’t absolutely astounded he was convicted. We had, of course, all hoped for that, but our experience up to this point was to be expect that he would be let off on a lesser charge, or the case dismissed, or, or, or.

I’ve said this before, but in the entire history of humans, at no point has a dominant group spontaneously given equal voice to a less powerful group. It just doesn’t happen. Wars are fought to keeep it from happening. Wars are fought to make sure that it will happen.

I’ve said this before, but as recently as 1974, a woman couldn’t get a credit card without her father or husband being the cosignator. In 2012, it was found that women still pay a higher percentage rate on credit cards than men. As late as 1978, a women could be fired simply for being pregnant. Of course, that still happens, despite the law. In 2017, a friend of mine went to an audition that called for a middle-aged wife. She’s in her 40s, so she figured it was worth stretching a little to play slightly older. She was turned away because when they said “middle-aged” they meant 35 or younger.

Women and girls also deal with harassment that white men don’t. I’m not sure I know a woman who hasn’t been harassed. And in domestic violence cases, women are discredited and disbelieved because of victim-shaming. I know a young woman, just 20 years old, who is getting a second divorce because her husband is erratic and has violent outbursts (and also has been openly sleeping around), but she’s afraid of family court, because they have been disproportionally critical of her (with very real legal consequences) in the past. She’s sure that she won’t be treated fairly. She’s very probably right.

Women at work aren’t treated equally, either. Besides being fired for getting pregnant, women who go on maternity leave (which isn’t legally protected in this country – in a salaried role you can have 6 weeks for a vaginal delivery, or 8 weeks for a cesarean) can come back to a reduced role, or can be passed over for coveted promotions – putting them at a disadvantage from that point on. Women are treated as oddities in male-dominated roles – she’s a female dev, not just dev. She’s a lady doctor, not just doctor. She’s a girl mechanic, not just mechanic. And women dominated industries are the least valued industries. Remember in the classic “Meet the Parents,” that Greg (Ben Stiller) is a nurse, and he’s constantly belittled for it. In fact, the audience is invited to participate in the mockery once we find out that Greg could be a doctor, but he chooses to be a nurse instead, like a dum-dum!

According to the ACLU, women still make just 78 cents for every dollar earned by men. Black women earn only 64 cents and Latinas only 54 cents for each dollar earned by white men. One in four homeless women is homeless because of domestic violence. And, while we’re talking of keeping a roof over your head, women still deal with having to fend off landlords’ sexual advances.

As a white person, I have it a lot better than most. I get paid fairly. I took a five-month maternity leave with my third child (I got 6 weeks with my twins). There’s a fairly decent chance that if I took a complaint to the police, I’d be listened to. It’s because of these advantages that I care deeply about feminism, particularly about the women who are most marginalized. We need feminism because we haven’t fixed it yet, and we probably will never be at a point where we don’t need to be vigilant and careful to protect everyone and treat everyone equally.


The best article I’ll read all day, and it’s about sports

Wherein Kareem Abdul-Jabbar (the Kareem Abdul-Jabbar) writes an op-ed piece in The Guardian titled “The NFL’s plan to protect America from witches

It begins:

Witches, man. Just when you thought we were safe from their malignant influence on America’s virtue, the NFL has proven we are still in real danger from their dark powers.

It’s a must-read, highlighting deftly the hypocrisy of the NFL, which seeks to diminish the women on the field by talking about protecting their virtue, while also requiring them to wear skimpy outfits and shake their booties. Abdul-Jabbar writes:

Other restrictions about weight, makeup, body hair, tampon use and forbidding sweatpants in public make it seem as if the Saints watched The Handmaid’s Tale and thought, “They just don’t go far enough.” In other words, shut up and jiggle.

His essay isn’t restricted solely to women, however (and I for one did not realize that Kareem Abdul-Jabbar was an intersectional feminist); as he talks about how little the owners of teams actually care about the very real issues faced by people of color, whether or not they play in the NFL.

In their [owners’] Pleasantville fantasy, athletes still “Shut up and dribble” (or, in their case, “Shut up and tackle”). That’s because the majority of those athletes who speak up or kneel down in the real world are people of color calling attention to profound life-and-death inequities across the country, daily humiliating and life-threatening inequities that most these owners never have to face and therefore have no personal stake in. Attempts to silence players who refuse to accept their assigned roles fits right in with owners’ smarmy manipulation of the women cheerleaders through discriminatory Jane Crow “laws”.

I could quote it all, but instead, you should go read the original.

We have a problem.

I read this article about the amazing Serena Williams over the weekend. Simply, I am enraged. Not just for Williams, who I deeply sympathize with as a mother who has just recently delivered a baby, but I’m also screaming at the top of my lungs for every mother we have. To quote the article (which you must read):

With a shockingly high maternal-mortality rate (several times the levels of other rich countries), Williams’s story will likely sound familiar to many women and all the more to black American women, who are three times more likely to die or suffer serious illness from pregnancy-related causes than white women, with at least 40 deaths per 100,000 live births on average, compared to 14 for white mothers.

I’ve written about these statistics before, here. What kind of shithole country lets this happen? America, that’s which one. This nation has the resources to level the proverbial playing field, and it refuses to. This isn’t a problem with money. It’s a problem with priority.

Women, and the rights of all people, who aren’t The Default have never been given priority. The very best option women have had is usually as Object. Something interesting to look at, but not something you’d devote real resources to. Politically, we have spent the last two hundred and forty-odd years selfishly protecting the rights of men. It turns out, that’s what the great experiment is – how long and how effectively can we make sure that straight white men take priority?

Right now, we have two Americas. One where a racist, misogynistic bigot who is also either deeply mentally damaged or simply a spoiled man-child is president, and the rights of straight white men are not in jeopardy in the least (particularly if they are wealthy). The other is the Upside Down, and that’s where all the rest of us are. Best I can tell, the president would like to cut ties with the Upside Down, rather than fix the problems that caused it in the first place.

As I’ve said before, the big problems aren’t the only problems. Yes, it’s a huge problem when the government makes it difficult or impossible for women to get birth control. But we are also each living with a thousand paper cuts. Statistically, if I can get a couple bandaids for my papercuts, my black counterparts can’t even get in the door of the pharmacy.

Happy Martin Luther King, Jr. day.

How to become a feminist: a primer

If you’re like me, you may have spent a long time feeling that you are not qualified to speak about feminism. It seems like a really fraught topic, and people get really upset over it. I really didn’t know how to start.

1. It doesn’t matter where you start. If you understand that equality for all people is vitally important, you are on the right path.

Read articles that you find accessible (I found that starting light, with shorter pieces and gradually moving into deeper territory helped me), and start reading. If you read pieces here on or Medium, or Twitter, or wherever, once you filter through the non-relevant items, things will slowly start falling into a familiar pattern. Once you get to that point, you may start to feel like you could blog yourself about feminism yourself! You should!

Qualification is related to the idea of authority, authorship, ownership, creation and possession. Your personal feminism is just that: personal. No one else can define a path for you, and no one else can take your utter inalienable right to be feminist away from you.

It took a long time to train myself to take off the blinders that I was used to, from living my entire life in the mainstream. For this, I needed help.

2. Find a community. I ask for help understanding things around feminism all the time. I have a small private group I rely on, and a bigger one through my job, and both are really fantastic for discussions of what a microaggression is, what to do in a particularly difficult situation, discussion of articles and news of the day, etc. The discussion is what helped me the most – listening and speaking up when I didn’t understand, and allowing that my mind may need to change.

As my personal understanding of feminism continues to grow and evolve (you aren’t ever done, which is what makes it so exciting and interesting), I’ve found myself more in situations where I need to make a choice about confronting someone else over their words or actions. When I was first growing my feminist consciousness, I didn’t feel that I could speak up against misogyny, because I felt unprepared for pushback – pushback that always felt like it must be inevitable.

3. Persist, nevertheless. Feminism is about equality. In your journey, you will get to the point where you will need to speak up. Equality cannot happen if everyone is silent, or almost everyone is silent, or most people are silent, or many people are silent. It seems scary, and the repercussions really can be frightening — physical harm from someone who feels threatened is very real — but unfortunately, the bottom line is that allowing inequality because the other person has a bigger stick isn’t tenable.

People push back because they feel threatened. Don’t apologize for not allowing inequality. You may be pleasantly surprised by the people who will later apologize and start making an effort to be more open-minded. Some people will be very upset that you won’t just let them perpetuate the system that lets them be on top in all things. What a kill-joy! It’s ok to kill their joy.

Start watching the interactions around you. If you see someone standing up and saying something, you could start by supporting that person. Maybe it’s a private comment to them that you support them (it means a lot), or maybe you chime in. Maybe you take note of the various kinds of inequality that aren’t well-known in your circle (ahem, like how women of color die in childbirth in the US at a rate similar to a third-world country) and start blogging or liking articles along those lines.

Listen to the feedback you get. People telling you to stop you can ignore. But other feminists will support you! They will give you additional articles to read and they will ask you questions that help you define your own views, and they will answer your questions, and they will get angry with you, and they will be so happy that you took that first step.

Resources: Check out these articles and sites for a variety of feminist experience.

  • USA Today – has a surprisingly robust feminism section. I particularly like this glossary.
  • The Toast (rip) – although no longer active, The Toast is funny, irreverent, and relevant.
  • Bitch Media – a deeper dive into the news from a feminist point of view. Particularly exciting because they are wholly independent.
  • FEM – UCLA’s feminist magazine.
  • Google – or Bing, Duck Duck Go, whatever. Just search for things you want to learn more about.
  • Add your favorite resource!



My daughter is five, and her current list of future jobs is as follows:

  • Mail carrier
  • Owl mail carrier
  • Space vet
  • Unicorn

Not until 1920 did women have the right to vote in America. Women, it was argued, didn’t want the right to vote. Women, it was said, were weak-willed and would just vote as their husbands did. Women, the argument ran, weren’t even full members of society, and giving them the vote was a ridiculous notion.

Not until 1957 were children of color allowed to be educated alongside their white counterparts. Prior to 1957, children of color were not seen as the equal of white children. Thanks to centuries of systematic racism, many children of color are still not thought of as equal, but are called “thugs,” “hoodlums,” “scary,” and worse. Growing up poor and different is still a fast track to prison.

Not until 1967 were men and women of color allowed to marry outside their own race. Something as basic to humanity as who you are allowed to love was legislated until 1967, and later.

Not until 1973 were women able to get a legal abortion when her life wasn’t at stake.

Not until 1974 were women able to apply for a credit card.

Not until 1978 were women guaranteed they wouldn’t be fired for getting pregnant.

Not until 2015 was it possible for two people of the same gender to legally marry in all 50 states. As late as 2015, something as basic to humanity as who you are allowed to love was legislated.

Women and our allies have gained a lot in the last 100 years. But attitudes towards women and anyone who isn’t a straight, white male (the “default”) are slow to change.

Consider that it is still considered acceptable that women athletes are paid less than men, despite outperforming them. Consider that the gender pay gap still exists.

Consider that women’s bodies are still considered communal property. Women, it is still believed, are not to be trusted with their bodies. They will do naughty things. They are best served by having the government control their ability to get health care for their lady bits (which are also naughty, and should never be mentioned). The best thing for these poor cattle-women is that the men who control the government also control their ability to have sexual freedom – something men have enjoyed (har har har) forever. As long as women are fundamentally considered objects or livestock, and, therefore, legislatable, we will never be equal.

Women’s rights is black rights is gay rights is human rights.

At no point in our history has the ruling government made the decision to proactively grant any of these rights. Women and our allies have fought, bit, scraped, scrapped, cussed, cajoled, jarred, raged, and stood up over and over and over again to get these.

And we’re still not equal.

Our daughter’s daughters will adore us, and they’ll sing in grateful chorus, “Well done, sister suffragette!”

In my daughter’s lifetime, I want:

  • Her to be constitutionally equal to anyone
  • Her to choose from any job she is interested in without fear of intimidation
  • Her to see women and our allies proactively stand up for basic human rights
  • Her to be paid fairly
  • Her to be able to love who she loves
  • Her to not be abused for not loving anyone back
  • Her to be aware of systematic racism and classism and tirelessly working to combat it

And I want these for my sons, too. And for your children. And for you.

Fortune favors

Once apon a time, there was a land where little girls grew into young women, and some of those women ended up having babies. This land became very prosperous many years ago, and for a long time, year after year, each woman’s care and health was even better than the year previous – before, during, and after the birth of her baby. It was very good.

Then, something changed in the land. One year, more mothers died from complications due to pregnancy than the year before; one year does not a trend make, however. The land continued to be prosperous, and much was good.

Such were things, that it seemed as if a quarter of a century had passed in the blink of an eye. Mothers who had enjoyed excellent care during the birth of their daughters were looking forward to the birth of their grandbabies. Grandmothers eagerly awaited their greatgrandchildren, remembering fondly the community of support who helped them navigate pregnancy, birth, and raising their generations of girls. But, something was wrong. The rate at which mothers died from complications in pregnancy and childbirth was up by more than half than it had been, 25 years ago. “By more than half?” Mothers tremoulously asked, gripping their newly pregnant daughters’ fingers, shifting uneasily.

Something was wrong. The mothers and grandmothers knew it; the pregnant women were tired and worried. The land was prosperous still; things had changed, but many were still wealthy, plenty of people were able to travel and enjoy hobbies, others could choose to work or not work – such was the luxury of this land.

Something was wrong. The pregnant women were gasping for air. Their hearts were failing. Their blood failed them. The food they had been given turned to ashes in their mouths. Some of them, it was whispered, didn’t want to be pregnant. They had never, it was said, wanted to be pregnant. They died anyway.

Something was wrong. A wealthy woman pined for years for a baby, and finally gave birth to a beautiful child, only to die a few days later. Down the lane, and it should be known, across the tracks, six of her fellow mothers did the same — longed for a baby so much it was a taste, and their answered prayer turned deadly. These women, however, were not wealthy. They were not part of the priviledged class that the wealthy woman was. And they died for it, the same as her.

Some of the people in the land noticed this, and realized that if things didn’t change — if more, and better care wasn’t made available to all women — more women would die. More mothers and grandmothers wouldn’t see their daughters deliver; the chain would break. Women who had grown up enjoying wonderful care in the form of a tight community and accessible care would find their own daughters scattered and unable to find the chain of mothers, which stretches back to our very origins. The broken chain began stranding women at their most vulnerable in healthcare deserts.

When people in this land said that if only one wealthy woman dies, it is a tragedy, but death does come for us all, and it is unavoidable. One woman out of 100,00; that is not so terrible, surely? Things were still prosperous, after all. “But wait,” said the mothers, tears streaming down their cheeks, cradling their daughters’ cooling bodies, “all of my daughters have died, all of them. It isn’t one wealthy woman, I have lost six of my daughters,” “I have lost 20,” another says, hollowly. “Our land,” the people in charge replied, “Is prosperous. It is better for everyone if we focus on the prosperity rather than this.” And they turned away from the mothers and grandmothers. And the women who were not wealthy, who were not white, are continuing to die unseen. And now they will die faster.



Some annoyances

Late last week, I got a letter from my homeowners insurance (Allstate) asking me to sign a form consenting to a premium for the new house. I have questions on the cost, but the thing that disturbs me here is that the form was filled out for my husband, who isn’t the account holder, and has never had his own Allstate account. He’s on my account. I’ve had an account for the past 10 or 11 years. I asked them my questions about the  form, and also requested they update it with my name. I haven’t yet heard back.

Early this week, I signed up to log into our HOA’s site, so I can pay the bill (note, I will be paying the bill – we keep separate accounts, and I am taking on the HOA bill). So I filled out the requested form, used my contact information, and waited for the email back. When it arrived in my personal inbox (not a shared inbox or anything), it was addressed to Robert, and the account with the HOA is set up with him as the main account holder, and me as “Alexander” the secondary account holder. So I asked them to fix that right up. As an equal borrower and co-owner of the home, I don’t see any reason to assume that the husband is the preferred primary on something that I have specifically filled out with my own information. They think they can change that account information, so we’ll see.

I love my husband dearly, but he’s not the default grown-up in the house – that’s a role we share equally. I find it bizarre that two separate institutions just assume that the man of the house is the one who needs everything in his name. It’s an antiquated notion, and pretty dismissive of me personally in these scenarios, and women in general.

I was talking with some friends recently, and I found out that in Quebec, women have to pay extra for a pap smear. If you aren’t aware, a pap is a basic screening test to detect cervical cancer. To quote the American Cancer Society:

Cervical cancer can often be found early, and sometimes even prevented entirely, by having regular Pap tests. If detected early, cervical cancer is one of the most successfully treatable cancers.

It’s mind-boggling that women have to pay a premium to get basic, preventative care. What is ultimately more costly? Having women get regular pap smears, or having women get cancer because they can’t pay? What is worse? Providing a service to half the population, or extorting half the population? Oh I could go on.

The thing that really gets to me is that this sort of thing is so normal to most of us, that we just let it go. It doesn’t really seem worth fighting a lot of the time. Does it really matter whose name is on a silly form? The thing though, is that it’s a big problem exactly because it is so normal. Everything about society is more or less designed to default to the male. What a terrific way to make women feel like second class citizens! I can’t talk about being a person of color or other minorities, because I’m extremely privileged and white, but they absolutely have it far worse, especially when it comes to just basic representation. Someone once phrased really well why using the word “guys” to refer to a group of people is problematic. We’re all pretty used to it (I use it a lot myself, but I try not to), so most women don’t feel alienated if someone says “Hey guys!” But if you say “Two guys crossed the street,” what sex would you assume those two people were?

A co-worker of mine, Mahangu, posted about male privilege in the context of a conversation the company was having. He used a quote from here that I found really interesting, and I’ll borrow it for this:

[T]rue gender equality is actually perceived as inequality. A group that is made up of 50% women is perceived as being mostly women. A situation that is perfectly equal between men and women is perceived as being biased in favor of women.

He further went on to say this, which I thought was a fantastic way of looking at the whole situation:

The truth is, men-only groups meet all the time … for activities / meals / photos. But thanks to millennia of patriarchy, these gatherings do not need to self identify as ‘men-only’ – they are the norm, especially in tech, where men still vastly outnumber women.

Finally (finally) I will leave you with this John Oliver video, which everyone has seen already, but which we should all watch again.