June 2012
23 posts
Here's the thing about men's rights and general cluelessness
(tw for mention of rape, general misogyny)
These are responses to an article about a campaign to prevent rape and sexual harassment on college campuses.
I feel like there’s a need to break stuff down, not for these douchebags, but more like a rant for my own future reference.
“Y U TALKING ABOUT PREVENTING RAPE, PREVENTING FALSE RAPE ACCUSATIONS IS WAY MORE IMPORTANT AND WOMEN GET FREE DRINKS AT BARS AND CAN FUCK ANYONE AND NEVER GET FRIENDZONED AND MEN ARE RAPED TOO AND I WANT MY MOMMY”
no, Mike Hunter, alleged rapists are not zealously prosecuted by law enforcement. Actually the scenario looks a bit more like this:
And here’s the thing about the “False rape accusations” that you care about so much (and why wouldn’t you, it’s the only part of this lame feminist bullshit that applies directly to you). Do you know what’s the feminist stance on false rape accusations? Do you know what is the women’s stance on false rape accusations? We fucking hate them.
Yeah, we hate them. Because being falsely accused of raping someone, like false accusations of stealing, murdering or molesting, can destroy a person’s reputation. And they are usually done with the purpose of destroying someone’s reputation and/or get money. And also, false accusations of rape are one of the things that make it so much harder for women who were actually raped to get justice, and more importantly, to put these rapists in jail, where they can’t rape any more innocent people.
Meanwhile, a lot of people get the death penalty for things that they didn’t do, and I don’t see you getting all worked up about that.
What’s wrong with the process of accusing people of rape, rape trials and whatnot is how they’re conducted. When a woman is raped, they ask what she was wearing, how she was dancing, if she was drinking. The victim is attacked as much as the alleged rapist is, some times even more. And the victim is also attacked by her peers, whom many times are quick to judge her as an attention seeking whore. Mix that with the rape and post traumatic disorder and you have a real life ruiner right there.
What people judge in rape trials: If the woman actually wanted to have sex and is just a lying slut - usually confirmed by the fact that she has many sexual partners, drinks, has fun, dresses provocatively.
What people should be judging in rape trials: The rapist’s past sexual conduct, and general attitude towards women. Showing signs of misogyny, past accusations, past relationships, his character. And the victim’s past in LYING.
Because if a woman had many sexual partners before accusing this man of raping her, this should not make her case weaker. If anything, it should make her case stronger, because duh, look at how many men she had consensual sex with, and never tried accusing them of anything.
Another interesting point that clueless people usually add to conversations, is the fact that women get free drinks in bars, often get in for free in places that charge entrance for men, and, as a friend dearly pointed out to me: “If you stand up at this bar right now and say - who wants to fuck me? - i bet at least 10 guys would raise their hands”.
But here’s the thing. From a privileged white male perspective, getting free drinks and being able to have sex whenever you want are just the cherry on the top of your beautiful cake. It would be literally the last thing you’ll need to make your life perfect. And to women, it makes for a shitty consolation prize for being born and raised as a second class citizen, and it actually increases her chances of getting sexually assaulted or raped. Oh and by the way, the “free drinks” and “10 men raising hands” only count for women who are considered suitably fuckable by strange men and bartenders. You may guess that this is not exactly a fair game for women who don’t resemble the current beauty standard.
And men are raped, too. And their rapes are even less reported, because men feel so much shame in admitting that they suffered this, when they’re supposed to be raised to be strong and invincible. And the fact that men don’t get the same paternity leave as a mother does is unfair. And the fact that children almost automatically are in custody of the mother in cases of divorce is also unfair as fuck. Guess what’s the cause of all of these 3 things being an issue? Your dear patriarchy. The same one that grants you the respect and rights that are denied to women. Because that’s what defines gender roles that make men so afraid to report their rapes and sexual assaults. That’s what defines that the moms are the ones who should care for children and kick you out of your child’s life.
So guess what? We’re on the same side. And if you could only stop whining, you’d realize that.
SHIT I CAN'T MAKE UP: Convo between my 7year-old students today
- (Names have been altered slightly, just in case.)
- Josie: I have a new crusshhhhh
- Matt: Me too! On a boy!
- Pearl: You're a boy with a crush on a boy?
- Matt: Yeah he's really cute.
- Pearl: Oh.
- (pause for a bit)
- Matt: Boys can like boys. I just can't marry him because boys can't marry boys.
- Me: Yeah they can. You can marry whoever you want.
- Matt: Really?
- Josie: YEAH my tia has a wife so now I have a titi and a auntie.
- Matt: Okay. Then maybe I'll marry him.
- Dave: (from across the room) No you can't you're seven.
- (Age was apparently the only foreseeable problem anyone of my elementary schoolers could see with gay marriage. I almost cried out of happiness. Later, when I was asked if boys could kiss anyone they wanted, I replied "only if they want to kiss you back." And Josie responded "Yeah! Your body your life.")
- My students are the shit.
“
The winter I told you I think icicles are magic
you stole an enormous one from a neighbors drooping shingle
and gave it to me as a gift.
I kept it in my freezer for seven months
‘til the day I hurt my leg
and needed something to reduce the swelling.
Love
isn’t always magic.
Sometimes it’s just melting.
Where it’s black and blue.
Where it hurts the most.
Last night I saw your ghost
peddling a bicycle with a basket
towards a moon as full as my heavy head
and I wanted nothing more
than to be sitting in that basket
like ET, with my glowing heart glowing right through
my chest, and my glowing finger
pointing in the direction
of our home.
Two years ago I said, “I never want
to write our break-up poem.”
You built me a time capsule full of Big League Chew
and promised to never burst my bubble.
I loved you from our first date
at the batting cages
when I missed twenty-three balls in a row
and you looked at me like I was a home run
in the ninth inning of the World Series.
Now every time I hear the word love
I think, going, going…
The first week you were gone
I kept seeing your hand wave goodbye
like a windshield wiper in a flooding car
in the last real moment I believed
the hurricane would let me out alive.
Yesterday I carved your name into the surface
of an ice cube then held it against my chest
‘til it melted into my aching pores.
Today I cried so hard the neighbors knocked on my door
and asked if I wanted to borrow some sugar.
I told them if I left my sweet tooth in your belly button.
Love
isn’t always magic.
But if I offered my body to the magician,
if I told him to cut me in half
so after that I could come to you whole
and ask for you back
would you listen
for this dark alley love song?
For the winter we heated our home
from the steam off our own bodies?
I wrote you too many poems in a language
I did not yet know how to speak
but I know now
it doesn’t matter how well I say grace
if I am sitting at a table where I have no bread to eat.
So this is my wheat field.
You can have every acre, love.
This is my garden song.
This is my thunderstorm,
this is my fistfight with that bitter frost.
Tonight I begged another stage light
to become that back-alley street lamp we danced beneath
that night your warm mouth fell on my timid cheek
as I sang, “Maybe I Need You”
off key
but in tune.
Maybe I need you the way that big moon
needs that open sea.
Maybe I didn’t even know I was here
‘til I saw you holding me.
Give me one room to come home to.
Give me the palm of your hand.
Every strand of my hair is a kite string
and I have been blue in the face with your sky,
crying a flood over Iowa
so your mother can wake to Venice.
Love, I smashed my glass slipper
to build a stained glass window
for every wall inside my chest.
Now my heart is a pressed flower in a tattered Bible.
It is the one verse you can trust.
So I’m putting all of my words in your collection plate.
I am setting the table with bread and grace.
My knees are bent
like the corner of a page.
I am saving your place.
Tintinnabulation: An Open Letter to People Who Are Now Engaging In BDSM-relationships and Impact Play Because They Read the "50 Shades"... →
elysethekraken.tumblr.com
No, stop, seriously, no, stop stop stop.
That series is not a good model for a healthy, consensual, supportive BDSM/impact play relationship.
That series disregards the feelings of Ana. That series disregards safe words. It is a very problematic series and not one to be learned from.
Look, BDSM and impact play can bring out a lot of emotions in people. Some of them are not good feelings. People can feel threatened, exhausted, unsupported, hurt, scared, angry, frustrated, defensive, disgusted, triggered, unloved, unworthy, “evil,” etc.
BDSM is not a toy. Impact Play is not a toy. These are actual things that are actual identities and you need a good, supported, experienced person explaining them to you before you decide to try them out (if you want to do it right, that is).
This silly book does not and will not supply this for you.
Look, I can’t tell you what to do, but safe words are important, and do not trust anything that tells you otherwise. Safe words are called safe words because they are safe. It doesn’t matter what they are. They can range from the forward, easy-to-understand phrases of “red,” “stop,” “no,” to the more complicated and personal phrases that some people hold special connection to, whether it be emotional or intellectual.
Safe words can stop people from being triggered. Triggering someone is an awful experience, and being triggered is an even worse experience, and sometimes people do not come out intact from them. A safe word is important in a relationship because you can grow together as partners. What turns you on? What turns your partner(s) on? What turns them off? What scares them? What makes them feel good? What makes them uncomfortable? What is good and healthy and enjoyable for all involved?
The “50 Shades” series is a terrible, terrible model for a healthy, happy, loving relationship, BDSM or not.
Sex-positivity is important. Please, please, please respect that.
Sometimes what we are told feels good and what is right is not and never will be the case. You are allowed to experiment. You are allowed to be fluid. But you need to know what you are doing. You need to know how to do it right. Sometimes what you see is a mockery of the truth, and that is not okay.
Here are some places to start:
http://fuckyeahsexpositivity.tumblr.com/
http://www.positivelivingbc.org/files/bcpwa/articles/sex-positive-reader.pdf
http://www.kinkabuse.com/?page_id=54
http://www.feroniaproject.org/a-sex-positive-view-of-bdsm/
Here is an essay on the importance of safe words.
Always remember that when trying out something new, you need to know about it first.
Sex and sexuality and sexual identity is no different.
Have I ever had “ANY unwanted/undesired physical or sexual contact”? →
firsttheegg.com
Earlier in this pregnancy, I filled out my “Initial Health History” form for prenatal and birth care. You know: check the box if you’ve experienced severe headaches, diabetes, all sorts of things. After the usual “Emotional abuse,” “Physical abuse,” “Sexual abuse,” I got to this very interesting item: ”ANY unwanted/undesired physical or sexual contact.”
A must-read.
My rules for being a girl and respecting myself
1. Stay thin
2. Close your legs.
Juliana’s Rules for Being Human
- Love yourself (it’s hard.)
- Express that love however the hell you want (even harder.)
<3
Go Juliana!
Things parents forget to tell their children: →
amodernmanifesto.tumblr.com
- Bodies are hairy. No matter the gender, your face will have hair and that is more than okay.
- Your butthole is going to have some hair too. And maybe your nipples. And your tummy. And where ever else.
- Stretch marks. Those are a thing. Everyone gets ‘em. If you don’t, you probably don’t have skin.
- Vaginas smell. Every vagina has a scent. Don’t worry about it! (Unless something seems wrong, then go get it checked out! No need to feel embarrassed or ashamed.)
- Vaginas come in all different shapes, sizes, colors, flavors. All are beautiful.
- Penises come in all different shapes, sizes, colors, flavors. All are beautiful.
- You don’t need to shave anything if you don’t want to. It’s tooootally not mandatory.
- Sometimes people get butt acne.
- You can have a vagina and want short hair and think dresses are just the worst.
- You can have a penis and want long hair and think dresses are just the best.
- You can wear whatever you want and style your hair however you want.
- You can even think whatever the hell you want.
- People might tell you that you are a girl because you have a vagina. People might tell you that you are a boy because you have a penis. People will tell you what your gender is. But in reality, you don’t have to be that gender. You don’t have to be either of those genders.
- You are what you are and it’s just the worst thing if you try and hide that.
