It’s been a very long time since I last committed an act of civil disobedience but, as you can see, the poster was totally asking for it.
This is not the first time I have seen this particular poster. We’ve met on several occasions, exchanging glances across the short distance outside of a multistory car park. It tempted me, I know it. The insidious, misogynist message. The graphic imagery straight out of 1950s era pulp fiction cover art. The victim-blaming propaganda pouring from its tight-fitted lamination.
This poster was totally asking for it.
And so, after a lengthy period of intense flirtation, I acted. I ripped it down. I shoved it into my car. I kidnapped it, defiled it and then stuffed the ruined remains in the bin.
Of course, before its final desecration, I had to make it understand just what it had done wrong. But that would be selfish…