The period; holy double-standard, Batman! The women of this world may use this as an excuse for a wide variety of social situations—“I can’t have gym today; I’m on my period!” “Sorry, can’t go out, I’m on my period,” “Of course I’m on my period; you think I’m this bitchy usually?”—whereas a man—well, what fury will befall your average Y-chromosomian for attributing anything to this force of nature can only be wondered upon…
A man last week was murdered in his duplex by a female co-worker whom he’d accused of being premenstrual; she later got off by temporary insanity, citing that she was; in the Middle East, menstruating women were kept in red tents until their cycle had ended; though viewed as a punishment for being “unclean” by the rest of their village, this was often the only time allotted for these women to speak with each other; the first calendars were lunar, and women were both revered and feared for their connection with the moon (perhaps the word “lunatic” meaning “moon madness” was the first description of a pre-menstrual woman); with such paradox surrounding it, is it any wonder why there has never been anything that so baffled men as menstruation?
This bafflement—manifested first as awe in more matriarchal times—led to fear as centuries marched onward: how can you trust something that bleeds for five days and doesn’t die? Couple this your typical woman, who has no qualms about using her period—pre-menstrual, post-menstrual, or mid-menstrual—as an excuse to get out of things she’d really rather not do (“Not tonight, honey, I‘m on my period,”), and your average man—if he’s keeping track—must believe that women menstruate all the time!
Because of this ignorance, men, by and large, have an extreme sense of period-fear: not only do they detest the subject being brought up in front of them, but most men even leave the room if so much as a Tampax commercial plays on the television!
It is for this very period-fear—coupled with the patriarchal tendencies of publishing companies—that there has been a recall in periods in every news article, essay, short story, and poem—though poets never had much problem disregarding punctuation anyway, did they?
I urge you, the public, to cry out against this blatant abuse of power! First they take away our periods; what next? Will the soft and gentle ellipses fall victim for resembling a triad of periods? Will the question mark lose its definitive dot underneath, and get lost in the text of a story, reduced to no more than a squiggle? Will the exclaimation point be diminished to a line? Wretched semi-colon; what’s to become of you, forced to bear the weight of the period? I say no! No more substituting punctuation! No more tyranny of publishers! No more period-fear!
And it is out of quiet rebellion, dear reader, that I end this missive with a period; it’s not much—only a little something I made from a worn-out colon, but, well, here it is: hope you enjoy.
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