I’ve been a lot more feminist lately. I’ve been pretty angry at men. I think the impetus is all this hateful rhetoric about a woman’s right to choose that’s been aflame among the tea partying types. That it’s even a question pisses me off and totally mystifies me. Similar with homosexual marriage. Why is it even a thing? Live and let live. Anybody should be able to marry anybody else, so long as it makes them happy and they’re not hurting anybody.
That anyone still thinks Dr. Nerdlove’s theory of Male Privilege is wrong, is evidence of the hapless man brain having been influenced from birth by our largely misogynist culture.
I realized something about my young self today as I had a conversation I always wanted to have with my sisters (or that I always wanted some older, worldly woman to have with me) with a young woman.
I was able to tell her a thing I wish someone had told me, and while it’s crass, especially in junior high, it is absolutely true, and I am pretty sure almost any man would cop to it:
A dude will say just about anything if he thinks there’s even a remote chance that you’ll take off you clothes around him, hell, if he thinks he might get to palm your breast. Over clothes. So especially beware of platitudes without context.
Once upon a time, I had guilt about being a feminist. In my very young youth (teenage years, when I was still pickled by the ideas of the Christians I’d been reared by), I would’ve actually blamed myself or other women for the misdeeds of a man. If those women just loved him more, or gave him more sex, or trusted God more, or dressed less slutty, their man wouldn’t have had to hit them or go on a bender or beat their kids.
I’m overstating for effect, people. I’ve never been that caliber of nitwit. But thought things along those lines.
Here are two true things that occurred to me today:
1. Christian mythology absolutely gives man carte blanche to blame women for all of his misdeeds and shortcomings. “Really, God. Eve did it. Eve tempted me with the apple. I’m powerless against her wiles.”
2. That notion is so incredibly pervasive, that it stops men from dealing with the real reasons they do things. “Wah wah wah, I’m an irresponsible drunk, but it’s not my fault because some girl I knocked up didn’t get an abortion like I told her to, and I just can’t live knowing there’s some little kid out there who doesn’t have my last name.” But there’re clearly bigger problems than women for this penis holder. What’s the source of his self loathing? What would drive him to tie a noose? In his last living breath, he would blame “that bitch.” But what if he looked deeper into himself for the psychic answer to that question? For the root of his misery that would drive him to slog off, a petulant ninny, when a woman he was only too happy to put his penis into had the nerve to choose not to abort, despite his whining and temper tantrums?
But two things happened on the internet this week that I feel particularly heartened and encouraged to be more aggressively feminist by.
Ms. Judd, though your rail wasn’t as eloquent as I wanted it to be (I wanted you to be Nobel bright. I’ll take 3.0 bright, though.), you said something that more people like you should say. Sing it.
And Mr. Trump? I’m a cynical man-hater this week, so I’m sure you did it for capitalist reasons, but f*cking yes! Thank you! I don’t get it, but women who want to be Miss Universe, regardless of whether they are biologically female or not, should ABSOLUTELY be allowed to.
That’s all I got for you peeps today. I’m going to go the the Comic Con tomorrow and dig up some Bust worthy material. Feminist Geek Journalism, here I come.
And finally, before I depart, thanks blog readers for making this one of the most successful blog weeks in the (short) history of my serious blogging. Good times. Good times.
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