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Upcoming Event
I hope to make an appearance at the Ottawa Romance Book Fair, when a date is officially announced for 2027. This is a one-day event held at the Conference Centre, so check back soon for updates.
I hope to make an appearance at the Ottawa Romance Book Fair, when a date is officially announced for 2027. This is a one-day event held at the Conference Centre, so check back soon for updates.
2026-10-13
Men are cars. Women are bicycles.
I don't often lean on analogies to help to define my understanding of the world. Sometimes we need to, however, because it helps others to comprehend how we understand the world.
Of late, there's an obviously great deal more being said by women on how all women are forced to cope in a man's world, where the deck appears to be stacked in the favor of men, where many men are of the opinion that they are the ones who suffer. So, the purpose of this post is to supplement my other posts of a similar theme, that have delved into the subject of women, and how we make our way in the world. In case this helps, these posts: 'Stop spitting your venom', as well as 'When the bear speaks volumes' and 'Femininity is feminism," can be a accessed from my author site (see bio) or by digging through my Highlights on X.
It's a shame really. The subject matter and incidences of violence toward women don't appear to be waning, in terms of having enough canon fodder to sound off in an empty cavern, as wide as the Grand Canyon. Every single day I log into my online accounts, I'm hit with yet another despicable level that proves how men will happily resort to any means to subjugate women. The latest, just this morning is one man in his early thirties suggesting that oxytocin, widely known as the 'cuddle hormone', should be administered to wives, to maintain the marriage at all costs, rather than to say... I don't know... maybe alter their atrocious and entitled behavior, to examine how they treat wives. I guess the perks for men that come along with a marriage are worth holding onto but wait, this is like going back in time when men were able to enjoy free labor, with all the benefits of freedom for themselves, and little to none for their wives. In other words, mediocre men didn't have to work at it, to receive benefits; they want them handled to them on a platter.
Call me crazy. I'm sure I wouldn't be able to find one woman who wants to become a Stepford wife.
The analogy is simple: men are cars and women are bicycles. Before anyone wants to snap elastic bands at me, allow me a moment to expound. I've assigned the inanimate objects of cars and bicycles because I've yet to encounter one motorist who speaks of their love of sharing the road with bicycles. I've cycled on the open roads, as well as the shared paths for over 35 years. Not once have I heard a single motorist express their love of cyclists, given that a bicycle is infinitely more environmental and friendly than a car. Whereas, I've heard time and again, as well as read online, the sentiment as to how much motorists hate bicyclists, to put it bluntly. Yet, nearly every bicyclist I know has a simple goal: to be able to ride around town without ending up being hit by one of the many dangerous drivers in cars.
Cars, on average, weigh a minimum of 1,500 pounds, and I'm not even speaking about the weight of an SUV or even a 4X4 truck. Cars are able to cause maximum damage, if they're the reason for a dust-up to occur between car and cyclist. The driver will walk away with zero bodily damage, and perhaps minimal scrapes to their vehicle, if any at all. Whereas, the cyclist will and can often suffer great injuries, when hit by a car, from which it can take years to recover. I've known persons with horror stories. I've seen the news of cyclists being struck by a car, only for the incident to become a hit and run crime, when the driver speeds off.
I'm using this analogy that men are cars and women are bicycles because I speak from the experience of having survived a direct collision with a car, driven by a man. I went head first into the car. The driver had spun out in front of me, when I had the right away. I wasn't able to stop in time. Bam! He didn't feel like waiting for me to pass. People are typically in a great hurry to get where they're going, until something tragic occurs, and then the driver might make the connection, maybe even accept that rushing to get anywhere is foolhardy.
The recent events at Cornell University have left many women disgusted with how the situation was handled, and how key information was suppressed by members of the university's administration, as well as local law enforcement. If you're able to read the pulse of online chatter, the vitriolic exchanges, then you'll know that women are exhausted from dealing with the violence of men. Women have modified their behavior to ensure they're safe when around men. Sadly, the statistical results prove otherwise—the more secure women make themselves, and the more empowered women become, psychologists are now of the educated opinion, based on real-life incidences, and counselling sessions, that the more violent and psychotic men are becoming towards women, to carry out acts of sadism against them.
Men are cars. Women are bicycles. Men behave like their car, knowing they're physically bigger, built and invested with more power. Cars are used as a symbol for men, to show off their wealth, position in life, and as an expression of their personality. Whereas, women are bicycles, able to transport themselves around town, though not as fast as a car, and surely not with the same degree of power, nor are bicycles on the same level of cost as a car. Women also do not regard their bicycle as a status symbol.
Men will take their power for granted, and will use it against women, the minute they see an opening that allows them to take advantage of vulnerable women. This is what occurred at Cornell. A young woman made an agreement with two guys to engage in a threesome. She showed up to their frat-house three sheets to the wind, having consumed ten shots, which is to say she arrived lit. There's nothing wrong with this behavior, for a young girl to want to enjoy her sexuality, any more that it would be for a young guy to do the same. What became criminal behavior was for one of the Cornell seven to offer her more alcohol, to encourage her to snort ketamine, and for one of these young men to have texted an entire frat-house to come over and join in on the fun, prior to her showing up—this proves pre-meditation to seize the moment to abuse a girl not in the right frame of mind to protect themselves, or to give consent.
Do men hate women? I pose this question because this pulse, felt by many young women, is very real to them and, also based on safety measures that many young women are taught when growing up, how to protect themselves from unwanted attacks by men. Whereas, young boys don't have safety measures on their list of things worthwhile to learn. In fact, they don't think about it at all. A woman will go to great lengths to observe these safety measures. A man will merely step out the door, to show up.
Do women hate men? Do women hate the way men force women to cope? This, too, is a valid question, and I can't answer for all young girls or mature women. I can only state, as I've mentioned multiple times, that every single young girl or woman I know has her story of how she was subjected to the unwanted attention from an older man or was outrightly molested or assaulted.
To all the men who post comments to defend the Cornell 7, which some are calling the Cornell 57, where is your shame? Where is your dignity?
Women are losing the battle, in fact and, to repeat, the level of violence hasn't waned. By all statistics, it's not getting better as every year passes. RAINN, which is an acronym for R*pe, Abuse, Incest National Network, have helped over 5.5 million victims by delivering a range of services, since it came into existence in 1994. According to RAINN's tracking data, in the USA alone, some 444,000 sexual assaults and r*pes occur every year in the USA for ages 12 and over—that's every year, not every five years or the total number per ten years.
Intimate partner violence and general violence occurs with high regularity every year in North America, whether in a marriage, relationship, in public or private spaces, by someone known to the woman in her family or by a stranger. To all the men who like to trot out their 'gotcha' comments, when they post in replies, citing the small number of women found guilty of causing bodily harm to men, or to children, know that it's not the flex you think it is, and these deflective comments often originate from men with daughters. So, I'd like to suggest that when your daughter comes to you, if she trusts you enough to do so, that you keep your list of guilty women handy, to throw it in her face, when all she wants and hopes for is to receive your support for having been victimized.
Every man's young daughter will inherit r*pe culture, and the violence that is dismissed, whenever a man or group of men are let off without so much as an inquiry to confirm culpability, never mind being charged. If I hear one more man state that men are protectors of women, I won't ever stop retching. Men protect each other. Men close ranks when one comes under fire. Men do not protect women, for if men truly protected women, they wouldn't need to remind women that 'men protect women' each and every time someone exposes men for their violent tendencies.
Women are the ones suffering, merely wanting to ride their bicycle, to navigate safely on the roads, along with the cars being driven by angry, lonely men who view themselves as worthy, their male friends as the be all and end all. Meanwhile, women are viewed by men as an object of pleasure or scorn.
Men are cars. Women are bicycles.
I don't often lean on analogies to help to define my understanding of the world. Sometimes we need to, however, because it helps others to comprehend how we understand the world.
Of late, there's an obviously great deal more being said by women on how all women are forced to cope in a man's world, where the deck appears to be stacked in the favor of men, where many men are of the opinion that they are the ones who suffer. So, the purpose of this post is to supplement my other posts of a similar theme, that have delved into the subject of women, and how we make our way in the world. In case this helps, these posts: 'Stop spitting your venom', as well as 'When the bear speaks volumes' and 'Femininity is feminism," can be a accessed from my author site (see bio) or by digging through my Highlights on X.
It's a shame really. The subject matter and incidences of violence toward women don't appear to be waning, in terms of having enough canon fodder to sound off in an empty cavern, as wide as the Grand Canyon. Every single day I log into my online accounts, I'm hit with yet another despicable level that proves how men will happily resort to any means to subjugate women. The latest, just this morning is one man in his early thirties suggesting that oxytocin, widely known as the 'cuddle hormone', should be administered to wives, to maintain the marriage at all costs, rather than to say... I don't know... maybe alter their atrocious and entitled behavior, to examine how they treat wives. I guess the perks for men that come along with a marriage are worth holding onto but wait, this is like going back in time when men were able to enjoy free labor, with all the benefits of freedom for themselves, and little to none for their wives. In other words, mediocre men didn't have to work at it, to receive benefits; they want them handled to them on a platter.
Call me crazy. I'm sure I wouldn't be able to find one woman who wants to become a Stepford wife.
The analogy is simple: men are cars and women are bicycles. Before anyone wants to snap elastic bands at me, allow me a moment to expound. I've assigned the inanimate objects of cars and bicycles because I've yet to encounter one motorist who speaks of their love of sharing the road with bicycles. I've cycled on the open roads, as well as the shared paths for over 35 years. Not once have I heard a single motorist express their love of cyclists, given that a bicycle is infinitely more environmental and friendly than a car. Whereas, I've heard time and again, as well as read online, the sentiment as to how much motorists hate bicyclists, to put it bluntly. Yet, nearly every bicyclist I know has a simple goal: to be able to ride around town without ending up being hit by one of the many dangerous drivers in cars.
Cars, on average, weigh a minimum of 1,500 pounds, and I'm not even speaking about the weight of an SUV or even a 4X4 truck. Cars are able to cause maximum damage, if they're the reason for a dust-up to occur between car and cyclist. The driver will walk away with zero bodily damage, and perhaps minimal scrapes to their vehicle, if any at all. Whereas, the cyclist will and can often suffer great injuries, when hit by a car, from which it can take years to recover. I've known persons with horror stories. I've seen the news of cyclists being struck by a car, only for the incident to become a hit and run crime, when the driver speeds off.
I'm using this analogy that men are cars and women are bicycles because I speak from the experience of having survived a direct collision with a car, driven by a man. I went head first into the car. The driver had spun out in front of me, when I had the right away. I wasn't able to stop in time. Bam! He didn't feel like waiting for me to pass. People are typically in a great hurry to get where they're going, until something tragic occurs, and then the driver might make the connection, maybe even accept that rushing to get anywhere is foolhardy.
The recent events at Cornell University have left many women disgusted with how the situation was handled, and how key information was suppressed by members of the university's administration, as well as local law enforcement. If you're able to read the pulse of online chatter, the vitriolic exchanges, then you'll know that women are exhausted from dealing with the violence of men. Women have modified their behavior to ensure they're safe when around men. Sadly, the statistical results prove otherwise—the more secure women make themselves, and the more empowered women become, psychologists are now of the educated opinion, based on real-life incidences, and counselling sessions, that the more violent and psychotic men are becoming towards women, to carry out acts of sadism against them.
Men are cars. Women are bicycles. Men behave like their car, knowing they're physically bigger, built and invested with more power. Cars are used as a symbol for men, to show off their wealth, position in life, and as an expression of their personality. Whereas, women are bicycles, able to transport themselves around town, though not as fast as a car, and surely not with the same degree of power, nor are bicycles on the same level of cost as a car. Women also do not regard their bicycle as a status symbol.
Men will take their power for granted, and will use it against women, the minute they see an opening that allows them to take advantage of vulnerable women. This is what occurred at Cornell. A young woman made an agreement with two guys to engage in a threesome. She showed up to their frat-house three sheets to the wind, having consumed ten shots, which is to say she arrived lit. There's nothing wrong with this behavior, for a young girl to want to enjoy her sexuality, any more that it would be for a young guy to do the same. What became criminal behavior was for one of the Cornell seven to offer her more alcohol, to encourage her to snort ketamine, and for one of these young men to have texted an entire frat-house to come over and join in on the fun, prior to her showing up—this proves pre-meditation to seize the moment to abuse a girl not in the right frame of mind to protect themselves, or to give consent.
Do men hate women? I pose this question because this pulse, felt by many young women, is very real to them and, also based on safety measures that many young women are taught when growing up, how to protect themselves from unwanted attacks by men. Whereas, young boys don't have safety measures on their list of things worthwhile to learn. In fact, they don't think about it at all. A woman will go to great lengths to observe these safety measures. A man will merely step out the door, to show up.
Do women hate men? Do women hate the way men force women to cope? This, too, is a valid question, and I can't answer for all young girls or mature women. I can only state, as I've mentioned multiple times, that every single young girl or woman I know has her story of how she was subjected to the unwanted attention from an older man or was outrightly molested or assaulted.
To all the men who post comments to defend the Cornell 7, which some are calling the Cornell 57, where is your shame? Where is your dignity?
Women are losing the battle, in fact and, to repeat, the level of violence hasn't waned. By all statistics, it's not getting better as every year passes. RAINN, which is an acronym for R*pe, Abuse, Incest National Network, have helped over 5.5 million victims by delivering a range of services, since it came into existence in 1994. According to RAINN's tracking data, in the USA alone, some 444,000 sexual assaults and r*pes occur every year in the USA for ages 12 and over—that's every year, not every five years or the total number per ten years.
Intimate partner violence and general violence occurs with high regularity every year in North America, whether in a marriage, relationship, in public or private spaces, by someone known to the woman in her family or by a stranger. To all the men who like to trot out their 'gotcha' comments, when they post in replies, citing the small number of women found guilty of causing bodily harm to men, or to children, know that it's not the flex you think it is, and these deflective comments often originate from men with daughters. So, I'd like to suggest that when your daughter comes to you, if she trusts you enough to do so, that you keep your list of guilty women handy, to throw it in her face, when all she wants and hopes for is to receive your support for having been victimized.
Every man's young daughter will inherit r*pe culture, and the violence that is dismissed, whenever a man or group of men are let off without so much as an inquiry to confirm culpability, never mind being charged. If I hear one more man state that men are protectors of women, I won't ever stop retching. Men protect each other. Men close ranks when one comes under fire. Men do not protect women, for if men truly protected women, they wouldn't need to remind women that 'men protect women' each and every time someone exposes men for their violent tendencies.
Women are the ones suffering, merely wanting to ride their bicycle, to navigate safely on the roads, along with the cars being driven by angry, lonely men who view themselves as worthy, their male friends as the be all and end all. Meanwhile, women are viewed by men as an object of pleasure or scorn.
Men are cars. Women are bicycles.
2026-10-08
It's amazing really. I've been living for decades without comprehending that I was born with what's called in the science community as 'Aphantasia', an inability to voluntarily create images in my mind's eye. Close your eyes, to understand what I mean. Think of a bright, red candy-apple with a glimmering sheen. If you see immediately some form of an image, then you don't have aphantasia. I see nothing.😢
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2026-10-06
I haven't always understood this concept, which has been explained well enough in physics to suggest that any time we observe something, we end up changing its state. Here is where it gets murky for me. Merely looking at something cannot change its physical structure, yet those who study physics contend that the act of observing doesn't require a conscious mind or even an eye. The actual act of observing, which can result in carrying out the measurements of objects, may have an impact on its state.
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2026-10-05
I feel like a Goddess
on four-inch, candy-apple red, tilted points,
one tenth,
the width of my callused heel.
Those bastards prey on my weakness—an orgiastic table of discounted rejects.
It's something I was born with, I think.
My niece is only two.
She walks past a department store and freaks out.
I know why,
I collect blisters every summer.
Running shoes are anathema.
I feel Romanesque with naked ankles,
swathed in leather.
My angular, sloping hips work
in tandem, together,
far better than a pair of boots with arch support,
I am told, I have a firm and hardy sole.
Gouge out my eyes
with pokers!
I would rather glide on higher air.
Right here,
would be as good a place as any
to sit and try on a new pair.
I am an aphrodisiac on spikes.
Maroon, Canary-yellow, hot Pink will surely suffice.
I need the colors of the prism
right under my toes,
to shoo away the blues in statuesque, Italian style.
Tapering daggers,
on a shoestring budget,
Viva la stiletto!
COPYRIGHT © Patricia K McCarthy
on four-inch, candy-apple red, tilted points,
one tenth,
the width of my callused heel.
Those bastards prey on my weakness—an orgiastic table of discounted rejects.
It's something I was born with, I think.
My niece is only two.
She walks past a department store and freaks out.
I know why,
I collect blisters every summer.
Running shoes are anathema.
I feel Romanesque with naked ankles,
swathed in leather.
My angular, sloping hips work
in tandem, together,
far better than a pair of boots with arch support,
I am told, I have a firm and hardy sole.
Gouge out my eyes
with pokers!
I would rather glide on higher air.
Right here,
would be as good a place as any
to sit and try on a new pair.
I am an aphrodisiac on spikes.
Maroon, Canary-yellow, hot Pink will surely suffice.
I need the colors of the prism
right under my toes,
to shoo away the blues in statuesque, Italian style.
Tapering daggers,
on a shoestring budget,
Viva la stiletto!
COPYRIGHT © Patricia K McCarthy
2026-10-01
Whistleblowers are not a dime a dozen. In fact, those fearless persons who are willing to stick their neck on the line are the last persons you'd suspect. And this is due to the fact that there are so few brave enough to come forward, to put their reputation out there, for all to trash. If you were to single out anyone in your life who stood up and took a stand, you'd be hard-pressed to find even one person.
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