In the course of human events (to borrow a phrase), individuals came along with Big Ideas that changed everything. Christ said nobodies could make it to Heaven. Newton was cool with the apple. Jefferson unleashed the human spirit. Edison lit up the place. But, except for spiffy technology, nothing big, nothing revolutionary, nothing cataclysmic, has altered the fundamental human experience for centuries. Until now. The newest Big Idea of this third millennium is what we now christen “The Gender Doctrine,” hereafter known as GD. Adoption of this tenet will rid the world of injustice, intolerance and inequity. It will lead to ultimate tranquility. It will save billions. It will alter the course of human history forever.

The Gender Doctrine: In the spirit of oneness with the universe, and in honor of total equality among all people everywhere, gender is prohibited, without exception, as a prerequisite to the creation, operation and use of public and private institutions, facilities and activities.

What does this mean? John Lennon would have put it this way: “Imagine there’s no gender; it’s easy if you try; no more male denials, or women asking why; imagine all the sexes, living just as one.” This unity is good news and bad news for feminists like Martha Burk. Remember her? The GD would prohibit Augusta National’s all-male status. In fact, 50% of the membership would be women and 50% of the Master’s field would be women. But, Gloria, NOW would be obsolete. As would the LPGA, WNBA, etc. All sports teams, professional and amateur alike, would include 50% of each sex, as would all civic, social and business organizations. Without question, Congress would be divided equally. The beauty of GD is its profound fairness, not to speak of its efficiency. Imagine coed bathrooms and locker rooms. As the sexes shower together, use toilet facilities together and dress together, we will witness true equality. Oh, there could be awkward moments in the beginning; but in time, imagine the benefits of unisex facilities in airports and other public places. As men and women, total strangers, literally face each other, shall we say, during life’s basic moments, the walls of bigotry come crashing down. GD would put an end to mean-spirited arguments over discrimination. Think of it. Very likely, GD would eliminate pornography and reduce crime. Essentially, the peeping toms, perverts and other sexual sadists would have no real incentives. As the sexes co-mingle, we would emulate the wholesomeness and freedom of primitive tribes who let it all hang out. Imagine the simplicity of college sports. Universities would field only one golf team, one basketball team, one soccer team, each needing only one coach, one weight room, one locker room. Imagine the end of sexual harassment in the work place. Productivity would rise dramatically; lawsuits would fall precipitously; marriages would be more secure. Dozens of agencies like the ACLU would disappear. It’s time for enactment of The Gender Doctrine. The Human Race has been stuck forever with the same old tired song. To be sure, there will be sticky issues to work out. Good job for Oprah. Or will we need her?

Let’s hear it for the Dark Side. Where would Goodness be without Sin to kick around? Take away evil, corruption and vile behavior, and this country would qualify for third-world status. If everyone walked the straight and narrow, did the right thing morally, spiritually, physiologically and psychologically—why, for Goodness sake, the gross national product would drop precipitously. Thud. Millions of jobs devoted to bettering mankind. Gone. Millions of jobs dedicated to punishing mankind. Axed. Millions of jobs consecrated to healing mankind. Slashed. Millions of jobs directed to governing mankind. Eliminated. Innately, we must be aware of our dependence on iniquity and misfortune. Somehow we know it’s okay for good guys to win as long as bad guys survive to once again flourish. As we mobilize thousands of sects and societies to benefit the unfortunate among us, we can be sure their numbers will grow exponentially. Were it not so, it would be the end of Oprah and her ilk. Goodbye Sally. And what would the boob tube be without COPS and GANGLAND and COURT TV? You get the picture. So give Old Harry his due. We need him and his cohorts to give birth to our heroes, to fuel our great achievements—to, in fact, help us learn the Meaning of Life. Anyhow, we need the jobs.

History proves that men need to kill. Sorry if that blanket statement offends anyone. It’s in the genes, you see. Think about modern hunters. Millions of men venture into the great outdoors for the expressed purpose of sneaking up on defenseless beasts and killing them for sport. Often they don’t have to sneak or stalk. Weapons technology turns a mile into a few yards. But that’s not the point because hunting does take skill. The question is: why? Do men need the food? Are they such avid environmentalists, they feel compelled to thin out the population for the good of the animal kingdom? These excuses for killing camouflage the truth. Men simply want to kill things. It’s in man’s nature to actually enjoy killing. In fact, killing something is the ultimate achievement. It’s certainly more satisfying than sacking the quarterback, smashing a serve or pummeling the heavyweight champ. Sport, especially violent sport, is simply a way for civilized men to slake their hunger for the real thing. In remote societies, killing humans is a mark of distinction. Imagine these earthly neighbors proudly displaying skulls and other body parts. “Wow, Joe, that’s a magnificant specimen. You ought to be real proud.” “Better believe it, Jack. I tracked him for three days and nailed him from 30 yards with a #2 dumdum dart.” This scenario is not unlike that of “civilized” men who, cocktails in hand, gather round majestic heads poking out of rich paneled walls. Thankfully, serial killers operate alone. Unlike the rest of us, their natural killing instinct goes ungoverned and can’t be satisfied with the simple slaughter of dumb beasts. They don’t kill to live. They live to kill. They don’t work long distance, but up close and personal. They aren’t interested in the massacre of many, but the conquest of one… by one… by one. At the moment of truth, they feel euphoria, relief and power. Wonder what it feels like? Look through the cross-hairs, squeeze the trigger and feel elation as the elk staggers drunkenly and collapses. See the thrashing of a graceful mallard as it plummets to the earth. Feels good, admit it. Satisfies a genetic primordial urge. Now, just imagine what it must have been like for the Bundys, Dahmers and Gaceys. Sheer ecstasy. Ahh, the human race.