Sometimes The Drastic Is Called For

In my last little missive, dealing with the horrific things that women are subjected to in certain cultures and countries, I indicated that a good way out of the mess lies in the kitchen. But before this way can be utilized, one great hurdle must be overcome.

I first became cognizant of this hurdle at a Man Booker reception, where my good friend Peggy Atwood was reading selections from her work. One sentence, germane to the discussion at hand, will forever resonate in my memory. It goes as follows: "This above all, to refuse to be a victim. Unless I can do that, I am nothing."

This deserves some thought. First, as one believes, so it is. Or, as the poet Wallace Stephens put it, "Let be be the finale of seem." Now if the seeming makes it so, something I take to be inarguable, then it follows that if one sees oneself as a victim, well, doors just shut all over the place, and it all continues. The abusive relationship. The adherence to a male code of behaviour (calling it ethics is not on) rooted in the 9th century. The stoning to death for adultery, proven or not. And so on, for ever and ever, world without end.

To stop this idiocy, the seeing yourself as a victim has to stop as well. Not easy, but it can be done. Only then do various options present themselves, and this brings me back to the kitchen.

Girls, think about it. No other room in the house, hut or hovel contains such weaponry. Knives (for vegetables must be cut) spices (some dangerous if applied too liberally) foodstuffs (which can be added to in certain ways) -- the list goes on. And you don't have to kill the tyrant immediately (which would call for suspicion) , just debilitate, and tend with not so loving care. Of course, in extreme cases, where speed becomes a necessity, "spices" such as arsenic, belladonna and strychnine come to mind. And stash what monies you can in the flour bowl. Or wherever.

Along with the above, a good deal of thought should be given to developing a sound exit strategy after your "beloved" has shuffled off his mortal coil. This is not overly difficult in most cases. The 9th century doesn't have much time for widows, and they will be glad to see the backside of you.

And your flour bowl will not be missed.

Good luck, and should you manage to make it to Canada, you will always have a welcome at Strunsky Manor.