I recently watched, with horrified amusement, a tv program about short men who choose to undergo excruciatingly painful surgical procedures (which basically involve breaking their legs and then keeping the bones slightly apart while they mend) in order to become a few inches taller.

Asked why they would choose to undergo such a drastic, and excruciatingly painful, procedure, they said things like ‘Do you have any idea what it’s like to go through life as a short person? To sit in a chair and only your toes reach the floor, you can’t put your feet flat on the floor? To not be able to reach stuff on the upper shelves in grocery stores? To be unable to drive trucks because you can’t reach the pedals properly? To have people always looking down at you? Do you know what that’s like?’

Well, yes, actually I do. I’m a woman.

Oh, but that’s different, I suppose. Why? Because we’re supposed to go through life inconvenienced? Feeling subordinate?

Ah. That’s the real problem. These poor guys can’t take their rightful place over women. (As one man, 5’6” before the surgery, explained, “I’ll be a better father and husband and son.” Yup. Sure you will.)