It's the radical notion that women are people. Not, say, meat.
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This makes my head swim with random metaphors: You ain't nothin' but a hound dog . . . but dogs are unclean. An alley cat? At night, all cats are gray? (At least the shameless hussy-cats.) But that makes women cats instead of the Satanic meat-puppets. Oh well.
He is right about leaving food out, though. I'm going to go wash the dishes so Lily isn't tempted to rape and pillage my dinner plate.