A Scold’s Bridle is an ancient primitive instrument of repression. They were used in the Middle Ages to curb the tongue of nagging women.
If I had lived during those times, I might… I wonder… for sure they have… but I don’t nag. I merely state the obvious (privately) and my opinions and verdict are always supported by hard facts and I only voiced them out (repeatedly if previous attempts were ignored) as a last resort when the object (or is it the subject) of my dissatisfaction refuses to listen to my case and deliberately missing the points.
Publicly I admit I have some difficulties holding my rather strong views of anything I disagree about (and my sense of humor may be dark, dry and cynical but at least I have a sense of humor) but disagreement is always done with respect and tact and always politically correct that no one can accuse me of being rude. I might say what I have to say too straightforward for everyone’s taste but never in insolence and never in the hope of embarrassing or discrediting someone but rather born out of curiosity and inquisitive mind that refuses to rest unless all the options had been explored. I just can’t accept anything at face value except if my instinct tells me they are true then I shut my mouth, smile, and nod.
No, I have to remove from my mind the possibility of wearing the said contraption if ever I have lived or find myself (you never know with time traveling being possible in the future and don’t forget reincarnation) stuck in that era. But the thought is rather unsettling. Much like the idea of not being able to read and write. Imagine… I can’t think of anything worse than not being able to speak my mind and form an opinion and the freedom to voice them out politically correct or not, which leads me to another question that is in my thoughts for quite some time now: Am I a feminist?
MY OWN PRIVATE IDAHO 