I bought the domain “feminist.dad”. My first thought is a public intranet of revolutionary, radical, pragmatic, probably all textuals? Some hopecore from caring fatherers? A carrier bag, a wiki, a vade mecum, a graph database, a slim mold. Pornographic, squishy, mossy, watery, rivers, estuaries. Bodies without organs, motherings, and humour. A perfume, a toxin spreading mindfully. Rococo and paratactic pizzaz to disturb the phallus, but pellucid splashes of communism and retrofitting social safety, and walkable matrices of allyship at conversation pace. My friends will be in there. My loves with white, hairy dicks, gone soft on the vine in their patience.