In 1972 a man spoke to a woman in a bathroom and said, “You want some man you love to protect and take care of you. You want this golden, shining, powerful warrior to build a fortress where you can hide so you don’t have to ever be afraid. You don’t have to feel lonely or empty. Well, you’ll never find him. You’re alone. You’re all alone. And you won’t be free of that feeling of being alone until you look death right in the face. I mean, that sounds like bullshit, some romantic crap. Until you go right up into the ass of death. Right up in his ass. Until you find the womb of fear. And then…maybe…maybe then, you’ll be able to find him.”

Two years later a woman asked a professional man, “Are you alone?” And the professional man said, “Aren’t we all?” The issue was settled.