It sounds strange, but this blog has made me less of a misogynist. I have come to view women as elegant machines — machines for using, to be sure — that mostly do a damned good job of doing what they were designed to do. As I get more comfortable and consistent at either aggressively torquing their levers or gently greasing their gears at just the right moments, my appreciation only deepens.
All this talk of talk of torque and gears and levers reminds me a little of one of my favorite songs by T. Rex, Jeepster, in which Marc Bolan offers a strangely similar, er, appreciation of women:
Just like a car you're pleasing to behold
I'll call you Jaguar if I may be so bold
'Cos you're my baby, 'cos you're my love
Oh girl I'm just a Jeepster for your love - oh
Now why is it that Marc Bolan could get away with comparing a woman to a luxury car without sounding like a complete douchenozzle? Well, for one thing, he's fucking MARC BOLAN, and his lyrics are always completely fucking insane. For another, he also compared himself to a car, specifically the Willys-Overland Jeepster. And, third, because he did it in one of the sleaziest, catchiest glam rock songs ever.