Another day another bloody lapel ribbon.
The ribbon de jour today is white, I think. Wearing one today tells everyone how 'right-on' you are. How much you care. Or at least, how much you want everyone to know that you care.
What you're caring about today is Violence Against Women, okay?
Violence Against Women is Bad. It's Not Okay. Let's All Just Get Along. If you and your friends can just wish hard enough and recite those mantras to each other long enough and loud enough (loud enough to drown out the voice of reason that tells you mantras alone won't fix anything) then bad men will become good, bad relationships will heal themselves, and everyone everywhere will get their pony.
What a load of self-deluded bollocks. It's a white ribbon, arseholes, not a bloody tool of self-defence -- or a means of self-reflection for the self-deluded.
But wearing your ribbon isn't really about fixing anything, is it -- it's just about showing your friends how worthy you are. That you care. That you're one of them. One of us! You'll sit around today in your little coffee groups and luncheon circles with your little white ribbons on -- or whatever the colour of today's 'I-Care-a-thon' is -- and agree with each other that hitting women is a bad thing, that 'we' shouldn't do it, that violence doesn't solve anything, that men have a lot to answer for blah, blah, blah ...
And you know what: you won't make a blind bit of difference. Men will go on hitting women. Women will carry on staying with men who hit them. And you and your friends wringing your hands about it? Not going to change a thing.
But you'll feel better for your worthiness, won't you, as you sip your trim latte and nibble on your biscotti -- and that's all the white ribbon's about, isn't it. Saying, "I care."
So bloody what. It's appropriate that white is the colour of surrender, don't you think?