Every time I'm about to make an entry in this journal, I hear Paul telling me I've been vaginized.
The turmoil went on—no rest, no peace. […] It was nearly eleven o'clock now, and he strolled out again. In the little fair created by the costers' barrows the evening only seemed beginning; and the naphtha flares made one's eyes ache, the men's voices grated harshly, and the girls' faces saddened one.
We buy these plates and cups from the Park Slope co-op, said one popular Brooklyn hostess ruefully, that are eco-correct and dishwashable.
In actual fact, it is hard to see how anyone could defend the prescriptive approach. In any other field of enquiry, it would be seen as patently absurd. What would we say of the social anthropologist who, instead of describing the way a given society is, sets about prescribing the way he thinks it ought to be? (We'd probably suggest he ought to give up Anthropology and take up Politics!) …
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