Now, imagine, say, if this guy’s name was Abdul Mohamed, what would happen at this point?”

While this is a good point to make, I do wish it had been made using a real name.

Other than that, the so-called catfighting is actually a lengthy, nuanced, technical, difficult, painful, essential debate that women have been having for quite some time now. But women don’t do that, do they? They gossip and bitch and complain. They definitely don’t have political theories or philosophical arguments. Nope, they disown their own mothers and chat behind each other’s backs. Yep.

I actually think that buying into this media myth of the se y bitchy feminists vs the authentic hairy feminists is bloody well accepting that women are stupid, spiteful and shallow, and unable to come up with anything worthwhile. Bollocks to that. I do not have enough time to go reiterating the same old oppressive rubbish, and I’m sure we mostly agree on that.

I wondered who would be the first to pick up on that revolting remark. It’s interesting in light of this paragraph:

Other publicity opportunities I have been less keen to take up – an national newspaper article, for example, that wished to pitch my mum and I against each other each talking about feminism from the perspective of our own generation. We have things to say on this, of course – we agree with each other on about 80 per cent of feminist issues, and strongly disagree on the rest. But we didn’t trust the editors not to make us out to be having a major argument. After all, it’s not just my mum and I who largely agree with each other but most feminists have more that binds us together than tears us apart.

I wonder what her mother would think of that sentiment?

I do think that when a man buys you dinner it is disingenuous to think you haven’t given him the impression that something sexual may happen.

How fresh. And edgy.