Why so serious, trans men?

I mentioned in my last post that a lot of radical feminist blogs have gone silent. Well it would have been more accurate to say that many radical feminist bloggers have been silenced.

First of all, I want to say that I’m ASTOUNDED that of all the things for people to really trip the fuck out about radical feminists speaking on, it would be the question of transgenderism. People act as if there is some sort of fact supporting these claims that radical feminists are ignoring. Transgenderism is described as a MENTAL DISORDER in the DSM. There have been studies to see if there are any consistent differences in brain chemistry, hormone levels, environmental factors, DNA…all of those things have come up with zilch. It’s not just the opinion of radical feminism that trans isn’t a real thing…it’s the officially stated opinion of the medical establishment. Even the-rapists don’t believe it’s a real thing, and pretend it is only insofar as it lets them make money from mutilating delusional patients.

There are many types of body dysmorphia. People that feel that they should be disabled and live their lives insisting on wheelchairs, people who feel that they never should have had a full set of limbs, hate one or more of their limbs, try to get doctors to voluntarily amputate them, and even go so far as to try to lop off limbs themselves. There are forms of body dysmorphia that lead to people being addicted to plastic surgery and spending endless amounts of money chasing some imaginary perfected form, in the process winding up far less attractive than they began. There are forms of body dysmorphia that lead to eating disorders like anorexia and bulimia that cause a person to feel as if they are fat no matter how little they eat or how much they throw up, even past the point of appearing as walking skeletons with rotting teeth, no periods and being covered in fur.

It’s not like we have no basis in which to evaluate the question of a person feeling erroneously that their bodies are inadequate. The treatment for these sorts of disorders is consistently based on the idea of getting them to love and accept the bodies that they have. The prescribed treatment is never to slice them into whatever body they say they would rather have. Imagine if, rather than trying to get them a healthier relationship with food and their bodies, we instead treated anorexics by helping them along and giving them liposuction and voluntarily removing limbs if they still felt too large. That would validate their image of themselves, and, according to the logic of “physically transitioning” people, remove their unhappiness, right?

Maybe we should be thinking of ways to treat anorexia that don’t require patients to gain weight. For the people who want to be rid of a limb or two, maybe we should do voluntary amputations. It would be cleaner and less likely to cause them to have gangrene than if we let them take chainsaws to themselves. And after all, we can’t have them suffering when in their hearts they have always been amputees and their healthy limbs stare at them in the mirror taunting them with lies.

And what of women who feel their everything is inadequate because of a constant onslaught of rarefied bodies and faces in magazines? Should these women not be given free diet plans? What about free breast augmentations? Free cosmetics? Free corsetry? After all, it’s common for feelings of dissatisfaction with generally not measuring up to that impossible standard to cause serious unhappiness. Many women have starved themselves, died, cried and suffered immensely because their reflections don’t match the societal standard of what they ought to look like. Enough suicides, depressions, and cosmetic aisle shoplifts have taken place to surely justify treating that as a real thing.

And most importantly, anyone struggling with racism should just have their race changed. Blacks can lighten their skin and get nose jobs and buy fake hair. And they should all be covered by insurance, of course. Those big behinds? Lipo! They help people mis-race you and identify you as a black person. You can’t pass as white carrying that thing around. And why worry about trying to regulate the behavior of racists if everyone can just be the same race?

Now if the logic behind doctors “physically transitioning” people because they say that they feel they are/should be something physically impossible sounds ridiculous when applied to any other sort of bodily dissatisfaction, why does it apply in that case? It’s observably true that these people are physically the same as any person that was born and assigned the same sex as them. There has been found not a single thing to differentiate this. Because it is completely unsubstantiated that being trans is in some way, shape or form a real thing, why are people so alarmed when you question it?

It’s so odd to me. I mean PIV-criticism, radical lesbian separatism, general criticism of male necrophilia and violence…none of these things get blogs shut down. But criticism of trans rhetoric and exposure of violent behavior and language on the part of trans activists does. I wonder why that is?

Still in the World

Sorry I’ve literally not posted in like a year. The truth of the matter is that I haven’t had much to say. Most of the blogs that I had been following have gone silent, and I largely created my blog because I felt there were a lot of things I wanted to contribute to the conversation. And then the conversation largely silenced, so I kind of went on to do other things.

Of course, a girl who hasn’t blogged in a year can hardly complain about silence on blogs.

So I’m going to crawl out of the shadows, here. First of all, I want to say that becoming a radical feminist makes everything I see in the world mean completely different things to me now than they did before. Although I was never the sort of person to feel full on complimented if a man expressed a desire to sleep with me, I now have an understanding of just the sort of intention behind that that causes me to feel pretty disgusted. I now view all the constant inquiries about my intentions regarding children or marriage as what they really are, intrusive, constant pressure into being a brood mare.

When I watch the news and see the endless coverage of endless sorts of male violence, I don’t feel afraid or like the world is getting worse. Now I feel like it’s an intentional sort of terrorism and I just feel like switching off the television. They are not telling me anything I didn’t know, anything new or anything atypical. I don’t feel the need to be up on current events I felt before, because now they don’t even feel like current events. They feel like predictably repeating events that are so constant you could literally just put up a news form document and change the dates and names and replay it every day. And never worry of being incorrect in any way.

I’ve eliminated several people from my life. Usually people that make “jokes” that are offensive, or hold regressive political views. I don’t see any reason to give them the amount of energy that would be required to argue with them now that I understand they don’t even begin with the same idea of positive and negative as I do to begin with. Anyone that begins their explanation of their worldview with the fact that they fear, revere and worship a male god that abuses them is already in such a dysfunctional relationship with themselves there’s nowhere to go with them.

I especially see left-leaning views differently, particularly liberal feminism. It’s such a jumble. I remember recently being on a liberal feminist blog that was discussing enthusiastic consent. In the comments there were women saying “well what about women who consent enthusiastically. Like women who are asexual, or just not in the mood, but consent because they love their [Nigels.] What about survival sex? Are you saying all of these women are raped? What if they don’t feel they are?!” A mass of comments like that. Yes, they are all raped. All of them. Because they are all capitulating under the pressure of coercion. In fact ANY woman who has sex with a man because she is being coerced is being raped under the definition of rape? So where do we get confused in that and start talking about things being “rapey”? Or grey rape? Because that world view depends on ignoring the pressure, penalties and coercion. Once that fell into place, reading their blogs certainly became mind-exploding frustration.

One good thing about radical feminism is that it’s simple. The only complicated part is navigating your life once you realize how many social structures that surround you are built on necrophiliac bullshit.

Procession, Possession and Kitten Killing Christians

So I’ve expressed the intention to write some posts on Mary Daly’s work, but have not really delivered as I’ve been busy doing other things. Thing one: falling back into my habit of being distracted by male confusion. Thing two: feeling fatalistically exhausted with the subject of feminism because patriarchy is everywhere and I was feeling to suffocated by it to have much at all to say. Well I have resolved thing one by actually losing contact with the Kitten Killer. Deleted his number, I don’t know it by heart, and un-“friend”-ed him from Facebook. And thing two I’ve solved by starting a re-reading of Gyn/Ecology. Her work is always a good reminder of why I write and what it is that I need to say. And it contextualizes all of the icky feelings I’ve been having in a way that takes their weight off of me. And since it’s helped me contextualize the situations that in my previous post on them were largely scribbly, angry blather, I will go ahead and share what I learned about what happened to me.

So with that out of the way, this post will be on Procession, which is the first of her eight deadly sins of patriarchy that I will be speaking on. According to Google, a procession is:

A number of people or vehicles moving forward in an orderly fashion, esp. as part of a ceremony or festival.
The action of moving forward in such a way: “the dignitaries walk in procession”..

One of the more interesting things that I noted (I did highlight it) but I didn’t really think or speak about is the way that militarism and Christianity are inextricably and originally linked. To contextualize where I stand on this subject, I cannot remember believing the myths of Christianity, not even as a child in Catholic school. I pretended to in order to a avoid censure, but it was never genuine. When I was dealing with escalating abuse in my household in my early teen years, I tried to believe in it in hopes that doing so would resolve the situation. It did not, and the more I learned about it in my desperate attempt to get close enough to merit assistance based on my efforts, the more reason to doubt it arrived, finally culminating in me deciding at 16 that I wanted nothing to do with it, following a cover to cover reading of the Bible. The character of the god described therein sounded nothing like a being I wished to be associated with. Selfish, narcissistic, misogynist and overflowing with whimsical cruelty, I felt no sense of love or comfort. Honestly what I felt is that what must be happening is that followers don’t actually hear what he says about himself, they just ignore the words. I couldn’t imagine any other way people would willingly bow down and lay their lives at the feet of a being that would just as soon murder their entire family, destroy their possessions and afflict them with grave illness simply because it made a bet with its supposed enemy that you wouldn’t renounce him even if he did that. If I was suffering because he was betting I would be fool enough to follow him even as he punishes my devotion senselessly, then I didn’t care if he was real, I still wished to have nothing to do with him.

In time, I came to the conclusion that he wasn’t real anyway. The main component in that is learning how to apply logic in my introductory philosophy classes at university. Once I learned for real that applying logic was something that had rules and could be done with consistently in the same way that geometric proofs had rules, I was out of the gate. I started to research the origins of the documents currently described as the bible, the myths that those myths are based on (such as the myth of Horus and a dozen other sons of god that died, conquered the underworld and rose) an even how symbols like the cross had much older origins. I learned of the many inconsistencies, only some of which I caught in my reading because it can be a tedious read. I started to get a real understanding of the effects in the real world of the misogyny of Paul and how the slave holders justified themselves with the slave-holding of the prophets and I was pissed. And I wanted to hear not another word about any of it.

By extension, I also extended my certainty of non-validity to all other belief systems. I would say currently that disproving one line of thought doesn’t mean that all other lines of thought are equally valid. I would describe by current viewpoint as being pagan. I have found a connection to the divinity of the earth and female spirit. And I can totally thank Mary Daly for that, because it’s her books that allowed me to open myself to the possibility of spirituality (which I define as recognizing your connection to the interconnected Whole that is the universe) that is not a patchwork of illogical dogma and misogynist confusion. Realizing that there is a possibility of having a truly woman-centered spirituality is what made me want to open myself to exploring the subject again, but from an entirely different perspective.

With that said, I am going to bring this back to one of my many problems with the Kitten Killer. He is a Christian. The reason that we have not had conflict about this before is that he chooses to avoid preaching, generally, and as I have little to say to him about the subject, and he has little to say about the subject, it rarely came up. What I didn’t really get until the series of incidents described in the last post is that just because he doesn’t bore me to death with talk about it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t contextualize his worldview. And because it contextualizes his worldview, it would be wise for me not to forget what him viewing the world in that fashiln means for me if I elect to associate with him.

Earthly processions both generate and reflect the image of procession from and return to got the father…thus in this symbol system there is an eternal circular pattern/model for muted existence; separation from and return to the same immutable source.

Christians, according to to tradition, participate in the “supernatural” processions through the sacrament of baptism. That is they officially join the army of believers. Significantly, the word pagan is derived from the late Latin term paganus, meaning civilian, “because the Christians reckoned themselves soldiers of Christ.” The processions of Christians, then, are profoundly connected with military parades, mythically as well as historically…Thus the mythic procession toward god presupposes belief in possession by evil forces, release from which requires captivity by the church. Consequently the sacrament of initiation (baptism) explicitly contains a rite of exorcism, blatantly belying the fact that this is really a rite of entrance into the State of Possession.

This connection of the sins of Procession and Possession really rang a lot of bells. Primarily because I was being effected by both of them. Both his obsession with participating in the male myth of procession and his desire to possess me came crashing down at me when we hit the issue of procreation specifically. And neither of these confrontations were the least bit fun.

In the section “Flying Fetuses: Mythological\Technological Necrophilia,” Mary Daly speaks of Rovert Byrn, a man who chose to represent in court fetuses scheduled to be aborted. His attorney said that “the fetus mind well be described as an astronaut in a uterine spaceship.” She goes on to further describe the parallels, such as how although the astronaut is considered to be the captain of the ship, the truth of the matter is that the astronaut’s survival is dependent on the males outside the vessel. Without the vast network of male rocket scientists, computer programmers, architects, engineers, grant proposal writers, political lobbyists, corporate interests and politicians and so on, there would be no “captain,” and if this support were revoked even for a short amount of time after launch, he would be fucked. The idea that the astronaut is in control of the ship is desperately incomplete, yet that is the mythological image that we are given.

In the same way, the fetus is considered to be in control of the woman, and this illusion is maintained by a vast patriarchal army of doctors, fixers, priests, nigels, legislators and the like. Only by the combined power of these forces are fetuses able to control the lives of women.

Males do indeed identify with “unwanted fetal tissue,” for they sense their own condition in the role of controller, possessor, inhabitor of women. Draining female energy they feel “fetal.”

Following engaging in PIV with dear nigel, my period was late, I reasonably worried that I was pregnant. He told me that I was being unreasonable, since we used protection. NONE OF THAT SHIT IS FAIL-PROOF, READ THE PACKAGE! was my response. Pregnancy is the point of PIV, so it will never be the case that they will come up with anything entirely effective. It would defeat their purposes, since the purpose of having partially effective methods is so that they can convince prudent women who don’t wish for children not to reject them outright. But the fact that they are all fallible gives room for plausible deniability when repeatedly they are inflicted with unwanted pregnancies regardless. They shrug, say “whoopsie” and pretend that getting unlimited access to our time, energy and bodies was some sort of unfortunate accident.

I had always thought about the subject of having abortion in rather vague terms. PIV happening more than a few times a year is years back for me. My last nigel that I regularly scheduled for such an activity was in 2009. Since then it was something I simply did on occasion with the kitten killer when I was in town, as an aside. And I had never been failed by contraception, nor had strong reason to feel I had been. So I didn’t really think about having one myself, but I felt I probably would if the situation arose since I definitely don’t want children.

Well when faced with “situation arose” I knew it was in my best interest to decide how I was going to handle it, and do so before mentioning it to nigel, if I didn’t want his opinions muddying or confusing me. Surprisingly, it wasn’t a very lengthy deliberation at all. Within a day I was certain it was what I was going to do. So I went to discuss it with nigel, as I’ve heard that even if you’re sure what you want to do, it’s a formality you should engage with. Worth noting is that he and I had discussed what would happen in the event of an unwanted pregnancy. I had told him that I was going to have an abortion, full stop. I wasn’t actually that certain myself when we had that discussion, but I knew that it would be a lot easier for me in the long run to go with that as the established plan, and discuss the situation in that light than to go the other direction if I changed my mind and unexpectedly wanted to keep a child, because I’m aware that he wants children, so getting his hopes up about getting them from an accident would be an unhelpful thing to do.

So I tell him, and a few days after I tell him that I’m late, and it still hasn’t happened. We’re at a week late. So now he’s starting to believe me (since he either thought I was hallucinating/didn’t know when my own cycles would usually happen.) He is elated all “we’re gonna have such cute kids.” I am so angry at this reaction I’m almost beyond my powers of speech. What fucking part of “having an abortion” did you not hear? I am NOT having your goddamned bastards. So look somber plz. Fuck you.

I didn’t exactly say it in those words, but it’s true to the spirit of the conversation. And had the desired effect of being instantly sobering. Sorry astronaut, but mission control is out and your ship decided to eject you. Suck on that. And after getting pouty, he starts getting angry. Immediately I recognize the misogynist waves reverberating off of him, so really it got easier and easier to deal with once he was kind enough to clarify just how little I have to do with his little procreative fantasy.

…it is the condition of all males to be childless, and there is evidence that this condition is experienced as disturbing to those who are obsessed with reproduction of the male self…Males identify the immortal soul with biological offspring.

That is the first reason why men are so obsessed with forcing women to bear countless unwanted children; they cannot bear children themselves, and in identifying themselves with fetuses, they project their desire to propogate themselves in the propagation of fetuses. They see every last one of these fetuses as themselves, as being helpless before the fertility of women because lacking the ability to sustain lives without the assistance of women, they wither. I like that she goes a bit further than that, though. She goes on to say that womb envy is just a part of the picture, the other part of the picture is vampirism.

In order to survive, fetuses rely on the body of the mother. They are quite literally parasitic. In the same way, men are parasitic to women. They drain our time, attention, money, energy and creativity. They use that which we make for ourselves to nourish themselves. That vampirism is the big picture of why men are so attached to fetuses. Possession. They take possession of our bodies in order to turn us from independent beings into their own possessions. And these desires are intimately linked in the way that men are given access to women through forcible pregnancies. Because of fatherhood rights, in order to allow continued access of the child to the father, there is by extension continued access to the mother. All of those patriarchal religions blathering on and on about the importance of two parent homes, and demonizing mothers raising children on their own, they give themselves away if you have the right words for the feelings you get about what they’re doing. As men like Mitt Romney speak about the criminality and violence of children (cough men) raised by women, but mask it by instead calling it the importance of “family” for averting violence, as opposed to saying the importance of “unconditional access to women” as important for the aversion of reactionary violence from men, they tell the truth.

What the kitten killer wanted from me wasn’t just to carry on the procession of his soul, he wanted to stage a possession of me. when he told me not to worry because he has a job, he was very explicitly laying out his plans to trap me. Once he has laid this enormous expense on me, he’s created a situation where I must rely on him. Why? Because the Christian idealists in charge of government seek constantly to de-fund services for single parents–and by that I mean women, because the overwhelming majority of single parents are women. Why do these “family” organizations (as they consistently bill themselves) seek to make life more of a struggle for families that don’t include men? Because they seek to force women to take shelter with men. Christian mission control asserting itself in the form of someone who admitted he fantasizes about killing kittens telling me he’s fit to be a father is fascinating. Hearing him go into a rant about being still (years later) filled with rage about a former girlfriend of his having an abortion (for likely the exact same reasons I would have) was illuminating. He told me this woman had a miscarriage and that it was tragic. In fact the only tragedy is that once more his efforts to possess a woman were thwarted.

The analogy between the astronaut fetus, mission control patriarchy and the spaceship as the mother shows itself to be a false patriarchal projection when you get to the very last part: women are people and space ships are machines. Unlike that ship that the astronaut can pretend to be commanding, I am an animate object and I can force both that astronaut and mission control to admit they’re not driving SHIT.

Deadpan

Deadpan.

Lessons…learning them is tough

So I’m gong to start by saying remember the kitten-killer ex-nigel? Well I decided to apparently give myself amnesia and get involved with him. Why? Cause I got dumped by my girlfriend and I didn’t really feel like dealing with that. And he was being all nice and I thought “PIV-ing you used to be fun. I remember that. Let’s do that again, just for kicks and giggles.”

Then of course I remember both why I quit doing that and why I always turned him down when he asked for a “Relationship.” Because it’s a stupid fucking idea.

Immediately after aforementioned PIV I was consumed with paranoia that I was pregnant. Why? Probably because maybe I was, that’s what that activity is for and contraceptives are a total fucking joke. And I was out of the state that I currently live in and back in the “bible belt.” Which is “oh shit now” for: I can’t get a goddamned abortion unless I either take my ass back to where I’m from or go through some hardcore shit, like waiting periods, protestors, a definite fight about how to get that financed and who knows maybe a vaginal probe or something. And a note from the president. And a psychiatrist who says for real though I’m murdering both me and the parasite like HARD if they don’t do this. And a chest of faerie treasure. And whatever. I fucking HATE that state. And that clarified a whole lot of the why.

So I’m like crying because the crushing notion that I might be having kitten killer’s spawn is enough to reduce me to tears. For like two days. And he? Is overjoyed. Cause we’re having a BABY!!!! And hey, what am I so worried about, he’s got a job and I’m like two days late and maybe I don’t know when my period’s supposed to happen and it’s not like he’d try to ditch child support. And we can get married and be a family! I don’t know if he’s trying to make me barf and die or if he seriously things any of this ought to sound good to me, but really the nonstop crying ought to give a clue. But of course there’s always the not-unlikely possibility that it’s not a misunderstanding at all. And he understands clearly what I am feeling. And doesn’t give a SHIT because he gets what he wants out of it, which is trapping me.

Well I decided fuck that. I decided I’m going to take what cash I’ve got, greyhound back to the slightly less misogynist, but much better appointed city that I had nearly un-relocated from and get myself a fucking baby killer bumper sticker. And on the way my period started. WOO YEAH!

Oh and there are MORE WORDS about that pile of bullshit. First off, when I told him that that was what was happening and letting go of the fantasy that I would be dealing with that shit is imperative, he told me that is ex-Miss did that. And that he still hates her for it. He told me that ex-Miss had a miscarriage. Convenient timing for a rewrite. I guess that was some attempt to dissuade me. But dude fuck you, you’re gonna have to hate me because just like her, I find it imperative not to be stuck with your ass. As they say I’m not trying to buy a whole pig just to get a bit of sausage. And really that’s not that great. I think it managed to get over-valued because I hadn’t spent enough time with ladies. Because really, while a consuming diversion even that’s not all that and a bag of chips. I guess that explains why it had been nearly years before the relapse and I had spent that time not really giving a shit about its absence.

And in addition to that rather stressful guilt trip attempt, there is also an argument that we had. Well not really that as much as we both got so mad we just lapsed into silence and I booked tickets out of there on my phone and went to sleep and he played video games (because apparently I failed to notice that I was entangling myself with a literal child.) We had an argument about men’s violence. We had been talking about marriage (no I wasn’t considering it, but apparently he was trying to talk me into doing so but failing to point out any advantage it would have for me whatsoever.) He said that there’s no point in getting into one if you’re going to break it off, I said that nobody intends for it not to work, but if you’re brutally unhappy then rolling out makes more sense than dealing with endless drudgery because you promised you would. His response was that no matter how unhappy someone is, if they take the vows they should stay. And that he doesn’t believe in divorce. I was like “whut?” and said that idea implies that someone is your property, because if you didn’t feel you owned them then you wouldn’t feel entitled to try to force them to stay against their will. I followed that by saying the attitude that a woman is property is what leads to thousands of women, just in this country being killed ever year, because a woman is more likely to be killed by her Nigel upon leaving him than any other time.

He said that I “really wouldn’t like what he had to say about that” and kind of cackled. At this point I was rather fully livid, in fact I was so angry that I was speaking in measured, civil tones. When I’m seriously angry I cross the line into very quiet and serious speech. I asked him “what is it that he has to say?” Basically fucking dared him to complete that thought.

He said he doesn’t really give a shit about them. Which no shit, of course men don’t really give a shit about violence against women. If they did, then they wouldn’t perpetrate it.

I said that just because someone hurts his sorry ass fee fees and decides they’ve had enough of his bullshit doesn’t give him a right to do anything except fucking cry about it. And that it’s pathetic how boys go into little fits and rages of wounded pride and hurt feelings. That more than anything I think it’s worth laughing at anyone who failed to grow enough of a sense of adult responsibility for their actions and feelings to just get over shit when they don’t get what they want. And that any guy that attempts violence because of hurt feelings should face the death penalty because we really can’t afford to keep them in cages and feed them forever. And that any attempt to do some shit like that to me would result in a very grisly death because crimes of passion can go two ways and I’m very passionate about not being ended by some pathetic shit like that. And I laughed at him. Heartily and honestly. And left in the morning with a big grin on my face. After getting back that $20 he’s owed me forever. By the way, this nigel has never been my “boyfriend” because I think he’s mostly fucking useless, and always have. The only difference is I thought he was mostly useless but a suitable transition activity. Well so that’s over with.

I almost wish I had been pregnant so that I could have the abortion and mail him photos. With a note saying “nobody will ever ever ever have your fucking babies because you’re a useless child. You should start a scrapbook of these.”

A letter to the militantly apathetic

One thing that reliably irritates the fuck out of me is when lazy, complacent people that don’t really care about anything project their sorry ass attitudes and incompetence onto everyone else. Gotcha, you really think finding a new place to buy your shampoo is more important than not supporting people that give millions of dollars to make gay people second class citizens. You would rather quit your job to go birthing bastards for your asshole nigel so that you can have no financial security if he decides he’d rather PIV someone else? Do it. You think it’s more important to explode your heart eating hormone laden, overweight, pork raised on genetically modified corn than to go vegetarian and live a decade or so longer or pay an extra few dollars to eat dead pigs that got to run in a field and not spend its life living in its own shit, go right ahead. Really, if that floats your fucking boat, go right ahead and fucking do it. Do all that shit at the same time if you really want to.

But don’t talk shit to me if I decide not to do that shit. Don’t tell me I’m wasting my fucking time. Don’t tell me I’m CRAZY just because you’re too fucking complacent to take a stand. Don’t tell me my blog doesn’t matter. Don’t tell me there’s not a fucking cow that cares I’m a vegetarian. Don’t tell me that I’m just selling myself short opting out of PIV and don’t tell me I’m wasting my life just because I’m not cutting my life short to help the world overpopulate. I don’t want to hear it. Not just because it is annoying, invalidating and rude as fuck, but also because it is incorrect.

To quote Margaret Mead “never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.” Stuff changes all the time. It changes for the better, it changes for the worse. It changes every second, minute, hour, and day. The cause of the aforementioned change is people making efforts. If the problem is corporations, then we solve that shit with money. Amoral entities whose only goals are the attainment of profit by their very definition care about whether people support them or not. So why the hell would someone say that people are wasting their time by making conscious decisions from whom they will purchase? That is a stupid thing to say that is additionally untrue. It would be nice if people would stop fucking saying that.

They say “men will never change, all they care about is getting what they want.” Well doesn’t that sentence pretty much explain itself. They care about getting what they want. So in the event they are not getting what they want, they will make efforts to change that. So why would it make no difference for women to alter the level of access to our bodies, minds, finances and destinites that men have? Why exactly would that be a silly decision to make on women’s parts? It wouldn’t. Nobody looking at the situation logically would say that it was a waste or even not the best possible action to take.
But someone who is projecting their own pathetic nature onto all of humanity probably would say that’s a waste. And who really cares what someone who has no idea how people work would wish to offer on the subject on how people work? I don’t.

In the event that you have made the choice to be apathetic on a subject, by all means, keep not giving a fuck about it. And if this subject you are making the choice to not care about is negatively effecting you, then by all means keep making the choice to be negatively effected by it and not do any of the many things within your power about it. That’s on you. But expect that if you are making an effort to stop me from doing something about it I will be immediately telling you to shut the fuck up. And without wasting any time in downplaying the ability that I have to alter the direction of my life or those around me.

Reading Gyn/ecology

I am currently reading Mary Daly’s “Gyn/ecology.” I’ll have something to say about it after I’ve finished more book. Between reading this, getting some job training to avoid being perennially financially insolvent, and making some quite permanent measures to banish the ex-nigel from the “They are not shelter dogs” post, and get him to stop calling me, facebooking me, messaging me, texting me, showing up at my house, calling my girlfriend, and otherwise irritating the everlasting fuck out of me I’ve been a bit preoccupied. At least I’ve not been preoccupied without some radfem company, if only in absentia in the form of books. I’ve blocked his text messages, blocked him on facebook, had my awesome and startlingly patient girlfriend block him on facebook and send his calls (how did this asshole get her phone number anyway?) to voicemail, had his phone calls go straight to voicemail, and if he shows up at my house again, then he may tangle with my dog until the police arrive. Because fuck him.

And people wonder why so many radical feminists are lesbians…

 

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