Like so many mildly neurotic, twenty-something female citizens who never actually got around to finishing their arts degrees (ooh, but we are a largish demographic) I had this misguided lust to articulate my anger. Sadly, somewhere between the conceptual and practical processes, I sort of forgot what I was angry about. Or rather, I became angry at my anger, and shortly thereafter, if I recall correctly, angry at my inability to remember what I was angry about. And frankly, just damn angry about my inability to buy a fetching frock in size 12. Imagine what it's like for poor Camille Paglia, who certainly does have the look of a woman in intensive beauty therapy. 'Camille, do you want *Wine With Everything* or *Urban Decay Pigeon*? And while we're at it, have you ever considered how your lurid brand of populist revolution is both reactionary and facile? And can I please have a go at your enormous eyebrow?' While I am tempted to hold *The First Stone* entirely responsible for rewriting feminism to the point where it became about as unifying and useful to the girl-in-the-street as a wonder bra, I'm not quite that small-minded and brittle. There are lots of other folks to blame as well. Nothing is sacred in this brilliantly ballistic offering from Triple J star Helen Razer, co-author of the bestselling *Three Beers and a Chinese Meal*.