Some time ago, an acquaintance sent me a cryptic text message. “Thought of you after I saw one of your recent articles,” they said. “Thank you for saying it.”
I write columns regularly. Some are about vaginas; some are about the genocide in Gaza. Was this person thanking me for drawing attention to the desperate plight of people on eBay who are prepared to pay five times the original sales price for Gwyneth Paltrow’s delisted This Smells Like My Vagina candle? Or were they referencing Gaza?
