A topic I know something about, since Mrs Towers is one of them, and my collaborator on The Project is another. And on reflection, many of the previous women who tolerated my presence in their lives/beds were very smart (“with,” I can hear readers mutter, “one obvious common blindspot.”)
Do I mean academic? Meh. You can be whipsmart and not academic. And you can be academic and mind-dessicatingly dull in a Gradgrind kind of way.
I mean, smart. Looks fade; everyone’s body (male, female etc) heads south. Having a cultivated brain – at least until the dementia kicks in – means having fresh perspectives, interesting things to talk about and do. I really cannot understand (or sympathise) with people who want – or aspire to – trophy wife one-more-facelift-and-she’ll-be-needing-to-shave status. Why lobotomise yourself and stick mattress foam in your tits? Why tolerate a society that encourages that to half its members? Alarming. Obscene.
Yes, I know, “post-material values” and all that. I’ve read my Inglehart. But the whole smart women are way cool thing goes back a bit further than the 70s…
Now I am wittering, so I shall say “that is all.”