If I were any good at drawing, I’d create a sketch of a woman on her hands on her knees.
Her belly would be very pregnant and we’d see the foetus inside, and the umbilical cord would stretch from her belly to a couple holding a big wad of cash.
Her breasts would be connected to tubes leading to cans labelled Nestle, and standing behind the cans would be a man with pockets overflowing with cash.
A cock would be in her mouth and another, from behind, in her vagina, and both cocks would be attached to men holding wads of cash
Women are not domesticated animals for the purpose of breedstock or riding.
We are HUMAN. As are the babies we grow in our wombs, as are our breasts, our mouths, our vaginas, and our anuses.
It is not our labour that the marketplace depicted in my drawing is buying — we are not producing goods as makers, via human imagination wedded to the skill of human hands. It is our bodily function itself that is the marketplace, the facts of our bodies, and this is why NO MAN could supply this marketplace with what it’s buying.
Whereas in every other labour marketplace, there is not one job a man could do that somehow somewhere a woman could not.
Only the female body is commodified this way, and that commodification goes all the way back to the domestication of animals, the development of private property, and the needs of men to pass on property to male children and therefore dominate and sell women as slaves or in marriage to birth those children.
All contemporary principles of human rights recoil at the sale of human bodies.
Except, it seems, women’s bodies, and their children.
As it was, so is it now.
A new marketplace term has entered the lexicon: surrogacy farms.