Dear Levi's: You Suck

So Levi's apparently thinks the only thing wrong with the world is that men don't have enough rights. Yep, in an attempt to sell pants they're trying to convince dudes that they should be in charge of everything, all the time, and that will make the world a better place and make everyone happier.

Hey Levi's?

FUCK. YOU.

InfamousQbert has a post up about it with a screenshot, which I copied. See the fail for yourself.

I just can't even deal with how fucked up that is. Anybody else care to weigh in? And feel free to repost this everywhere. And I mean, everywhere. It worked with Method- who's to say it can't work again?

Hat tip to InfamousQbert.

Life Is Pain, People

Here at Things That Piss Me Off dot com, we're having an influx of annoyance.

People who annoy me today include:

-People who respond to my criticism of pop culture with something like: "You shouldn't take it seriously, it's just supposed to be mindless entertainment, it's not for criticizing (what does that even mean?), you're reading too much into it, blah blah blah I have no native intelligence blah". I get so fucking tired of that. It's not that I'm taking it too seriously, it's that you're not taking it seriously enough. For fuck's sake.

-The guy in my landlord's office today. The receptionist jokingly said "Would I lie to you?" at one point in the conversation. His reply? "Sure you would! You're female!" and then kept going "Never had a woman not lie to me". In a room full of women- the employees and me and another tenant! I felt my eyes get big. I turned and left as soon as I could, but what I wanted to do was say "Hey, asshole- maybe there's a reason all those women keep lying to you." I hope that guy steps in an ankle-deep puddle and has to slosh around with wet socks all day.

-The librarian who acts like I'M the criminal when a library book is stolen from me. It was rather difficult to hold on to my temper when she asked me for the third time how I could be sure the book was stolen. How could I be sure? Because there was a big empty spot in the place where I left it, that's how!

-Libertarians. Just in general.

That's it right now. I had a good post planned about the effects of art on our psyches, and about my upcoming TV blogging, but fuck it. My brain hurts. People suck today. That's it.

I Watch TV

So in stunning news, I watch TV! This TV-watching doesn't just include educational things like MSNBC, the History Channel (a favorite of Ferret, actually), or the Bran Network. I watch cartoons, oh yes I do. Among others, I watch Chowder, and Spongebob, and Phineas and Ferb. Now what do these shows have in common? Well, the first two were both worked on by the same guy, C. H. Greenblatt. (Yes, that's his real name. He also worked on The Grim Adventured of Billy and Mandy, which I also LOVE.)

Anyway, that AND! They are some of my favorties to watch. They are all lots of fun and not too think-require-y and generally not problematic in terms of the messages or ideas behind the storylines. They usually have good messages or (in the case of Chowder) are so cool to look at that I don't care that the message is something like "Don't fill up your boss's kitchen with a family of fart-clouds". Don't ask.

The not-silver lining here, the problem that I have with these 3 particular cartoons- but not JUST these 3- is the female characters. All 3 shows are centered loosely around a pair of male characters. When they have ladiez onscreen, it's to be a romantic interest or a punchline. The female characters are usually more 2-dimensional and less sympathetic than the guys. And that makes me sad, because I wish there was something I could watch on TV for pleasure that didn't make me wince at every girly giggle or shrieking harpy caricature.

But alas, guess not.

Let's get started, shall we? I'll be listing the main characters in each show, a couple supporting characters, and some traits, as well as whether or not we are meant to like each character. Me snarking about gendered behavior will be in italics.

SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS: Who lives in a pineapple under the sea? This show is about a sponge who's a fry cook being happy and well-dressed at the bottom of the ocean. Has been applauded for lack of sex and violence. Most of the characters don't exhibit stereotypical gendered behavior, which is refreshing. However, there're a few, and my main problem is that the female characters get way less screen time and are more often the butt of the joke than the male characters. Another case of male-as-default.

-Spongebob: Likable. Happy. Naive. The star of the show. Loves being a fry-cook, weirdly.

-Patrick: Likable, sort of. Very, very stupid. The literal star(fish).

-Mr Krabs: Crusty and really stingy, but sometimes sympathetic.

-Squidward: A squid, Spongebob's neighbor. Not likable. At all.

-Sandy Cheeks: Her name is a pun. Ha, ha. She's a literal outsider (a squirrel, underwater). She is shown as being smart, usually. Also a tough, athletic karate expert, which is refreshing. Unfortunately, she is in less episodes than, say, Squidward.

-Mrs. Puff: Spongebob's long-suffering driving instructor. A widow. Not a main character, but the only other regular lady in the series, besides

-Pearl: Mr Krabs's incongruous whale daughter. Spoiled girly teenager <-- Gasp! I've never seen a teenage girl depicted as bratty and spoiled before!

-Plankton: The bad guy on the show. Shouts a lot, and is really small. Has some issues, and I think this because of

-Karin: Plankton's wife, whom he made. Because she's a COMPUTER. Yeah. And every once in awhile he threatens to "unplug her" or "take her apart and build a new model" cause that's not creepy at all. <-- Wife as nagging and unsupportive.

CHOWDER: Fairly new to the scene. Features cool animation and visuals, as well as several different media like puppets or claymation. It's about an apprentice chef in a fantastic city where everyone has the name of a food. A lot of the humor is crude or absurdist. We are meant to understand that there are flaws in all these characters. Strangely enough, we don't often see anyone else cooking besides Mung and Chowder. Not sure why.

-Chowder: Happy. Gluttonous. Inept and scatterbrained. Seriously, would rather eat than cook, and in later episodes, endangers everybody with stupidity.

-Mung Daal: Head chef. Not a bad cook, I think? Patient with Chowder. Married, but still loves "the ladies", who don't generally love him back, as he is not quite as irresistible as he thinks. <--Oh look! Gendered behavior!

-Truffles: Mung's wife. Small and irascible. Everyone in the kitchen is afraid of her. Often yells, especially at her husband. She's the receptionist; we don't see her cook. <-- This would be nice, except it's a catering company. So, yup, lady-as-secretary. Also, lady-as-bitch.

-Schnitzel: Rock monster, sous chef. Really strong, serious, and often aggravated by Chowder. Responsible and long-suffering. Only says "radda".

-Panini: Ms. Endive's apprentice. Competent cook (we assume), feminine and very aggressive. Better cook than Chowder (not that that's hard), but we rarely see her cook. Freakily obsessed with being Chowder's girlfriend. Chowder isn't interested, so of course she stalks him compulsively and calls him "Num-nums". She gets pretty scary. <-- Do I even need to go into detail?

-Ms. Endive: Not likable. Image-conscious. Probably a better chef than Mung, her rival, but we don't get to see her cook often. She's huge, and her size is often a joke. Kind of deranged. Lonely, but treats everyone so badly we see why she's so unpopular. Simultaneously hates men and longs for a relationship. <--Really?? Come on. It's been done, people!

-Gazpacho: Runs the fruit stand. Mung and Chowder are customers, friends, and apparently neighbors. Neurotic and socially awkward. Lives with his mother, who is implied in one episode to be a split personality of him, a la 'Psycho'. Not sure if this is canon, but we never see her. He talks a lot about 'Mother' and describes some pretty creepy things. <--Another dude henpecked by a lady, even if she is... him. Maybe.

Mostly the gender jokes in this show are "Aren't women crazy/demanding/irrational/heartless/really crazy?" There's at least one or two per episode.

PHINEAS AND FERB- This is an awesome show about 2 stepbrothers who spend every day of their summer vacation inventing crazy things and having wild adventures. Lots of running gags and at least one catchy song per episode. Very little meanness and lots of creativity and friendship. They also have several female characters, it's just... you'll see.

-Phineas: Genius kid who has awesome ideas.

-Ferb: Genius kid who's quiet and knows how to build incredible things. The series revolves primarily around the crazy things these two build in their backyard every day of summer, despite the efforts of

-Candace: Their sister who's obsessed with 1)Getting them in trouble for their wacky inventions- meaning first getting their mother to believe her and 2)Her love-interest, Jeremy. <--Lady as spoilsport? Also, does crazy things for a man. Sigh.

-Stacy: Best friend to Candace. Kind of ditzy. Gives advice on shopping and boys. That's about all we see. <--Cause girls don't think about anything else! Unless of course they're

-Isabella: Smart, intrepid, goes on lots of adventures with Phineas and Ferb. Also adorably cute and infatuated with Phineas <--Aww, we were doing so well til that sentence! She's also the leader of

-The Fireside Girls: Mostly-unnamed (they're usually just shown as a group) and ethnically diverse troop of Girl-Scout types who are adventurous, smart and resourceful. Yay!

-Linda: Phineas and Candace's mom, who hides a past as a pop-star and goes around all day doing "mom" stuff. Doesn't seem to have a job. Never believes Candace and in fact, usually suggests she's crazy and mocks her behind her back. <--She's a mom, and that's about all we get.

-Laurence: Ferb's dad. British. Easygoing and a little loopy.

-Dr. Doofenshmirtz: Inept bad guy inventor out to take over the world, starting with "The Tri-State Area!" Played for laughs, definitely. Constantly thwarted by his battles with

-Perry the Platypus: Phineas and Ferb's pet platypus, who's actually a secret agent. Yeah, don't ask. It's funny though.

So essentially, this show is one of the better ones, it's just they have a lot of problematic issues with their treatment of girls. Candace is never believed and told she's crazy, Stacy's a ditz, and their Mom is apparently a SAHM who's utterly clueless. Other than that, though...

So you see? I feel like, even in cartoons we're not safe from gendered stereotypes. These shows are fun shows! Cool to look at, they make me laugh, and they usually aren't so stupid I want to cry (see the later episodes of Fairly OddParents for that). Are there any cartoons out there that're free from the bullshit?

100% Customer Satisfaction

This has been going around the feminist tubes lately and was far too awesome-tastic not to re-post in its entirety. Hat tip to No, Not You.

Sexual Assault Prevention Tips Guaranteed to Work!

1. Don’t put drugs in people’s drinks in order to control their behavior.

2. When you see someone walking by themselves, leave them alone!

3. If you pull over to help someone with car problems, remember not to assault them!

4. NEVER open an unlocked door or window uninvited.

5. If you are in an elevator and someone else gets in, DON’T ASSAULT THEM!

6. Remember, people go to laundry to do their laundry, do not attempt to molest someone who is alone in a laundry room.

7. USE THE BUDDY SYSTEM! If you are not able to stop yourself from assaulting people, ask a friend to stay with you while you are in public.

8. Always be honest with people! Don’t pretend to be a caring friend in order to gain the trust of someone you want to assault. Consider telling them you plan to assault them. If you don’t communicate your intentions, the other person may take that as a sign that you do not plan to rape them.

9. Don’t forget: you can’t have sex with someone unless they are awake!

10. Carry a whistle! If you are worried you might assault someone “on accident” you can hand it to the person you are with, so they can blow it if you do.

And, ALWAYS REMEMBER: if you didn’t ask permission and then respect the answer the first time, you are commiting a crime- no matter how “into it” others appear to be.

Language Is Never Innocent; Also, Much Capitalization!

So I am one of those ladies who is Friends With My Ex. I seem to notice ladies want to stay friends with their exes more often. Guys tend to avoid exes (when they don't hate them entirely). I'm not sure why- maybe it's because women are encouraged to be introspective and sort out the feelings of "You're Not A Bad Guy And I Like Spending Time With You" from the knowledge that "We Have Issues That Make Dating A Not-Fun Idea". Guys (she says, generalizing away) seem to not be trained to compartmentalize relationships like that. If a woman isn't romantically interested in them [anymore], it's a Total Rejection of his Entire Being. Yada yadda. I have a few ex-boyfriends who got over that and with whom I'm still friendly. And one of the reasons I ended it was because of his amused dismissal of my (highly feminist) worldview. It makes for some interesting discussions, which is what this post is actually about.

My ex-now-friend, referred to as S, thinks of himself as a stand-up guy (don't they all). His actions are (usually) benevolent; if you go by the rule that says Actions are More Important than Words, he's right.

What if you think that the things you say are maybe even more important, because they are the things you're thinking?

He accuses me of being "too PC". He makes racist jokes, and then points out that he has "Black Friends who think [those jokes] are funny as hell". He refers to women as "bitches", and then claims he respects women (because he's not saying it in a mean way, don'tchaknow!). This is the same guy who once called me "easy".

He's an able-bodied, hertero white cis male who *will not* acknowledge his privelege in any way. Every time we have a discussion about feminism/racism, I end up frustrated. Because eventually the subject gets around to language, and his total misunderstanding of The Way Language Works. His claim is that "words don't have power unless we (personally) give them power. If we treat certain words as taboo, that only gives them more power." He's like Randal from Clerks 2, wearing a shirt with "Porch Monkey" on the back with the claim that he's "taking [the phrase] back." At which point Dante loses it and tells him that that's incredibly racist and he can't "take back" a phrase referring to black people if he's not black!

I outlined this comparison to S, who came down on Randal's side. Sheesh.

His idea is that if he personally treats a normally taboo word as if it has no power, eventually other people will pick up on this and do the same, and in time, racial and other slurs will lose their ability to wound. It's a nice idea. It's my opinion that it's also totally unrealistic to think that one, non-famous, whitemaledude has that much influence over how minority slurs are heard. In the meantime, it's also a really good excuse for using those words without thinking about them, or apologizing.

Am I right, or does he have a point? What's an Angry Feminist^TM to say?

Newspapers: Hey, We Eradicated Rape!

So I was reading this blog post of Cara's about a woman who was murdered, and also this [trigger warning] disgusting story from Shakesville, and I can't help but notice something.
It's kind of scary how I never see the word "rape" in newspapers anymore, even when it's the kind of "extreme" rape that not even MRAs can argue with. What's with the self-censorship of newspapers on just this word? They're supposed to keep us informed- that is, tell the truth objectively. What the fuck is this bullshit then?

I'm wondering if there's a protest group or something I can join, just to stop newspapers confusing 'rape' and 'sex'. How many letters and emails and phone calls will it take?

You know what's fucked up? I hear people all the time saying women get confused about 'what is rape and what is sex' (IE, "buyer's remorse" and oh how I hate that fucking term when it's applied to this), but these newspapers seem way more 'confused' than any woman I ever heard of.
What is so hard about the concept: "consent should be informed, enthusiastic, and oh yeah, conscious"?
It's a big freakin' difference, journalists. It's not a fine line, okay? It's a big fat glow-in-the-dark line!

But everyone seems to be telling us there isn't one. Including the newspapers.

Rape isn't sex. Rape isn't sexy. Please don't use it for titillation value in your articles. Treat it as the violent and fucked-up crime that it is.
See, look: "Couple has sex on street corner as performance art" is fine. "Man has sex with unconscious woman" is so far from fine it's in a different country. The difference is not hard to learn. And it's not a minor issue. It affects how everyone thinks of sex and rape.

To all newspapers everywhere: Stop. Doing this. To us.

h/t Cara and Liss

Femme Is A Gift: Hedonism, Choices and Subversion

So I'm supposed to be writing for the Femmethology tour. Visible: A Femmethology is a sigh-of-happiness book- it's always a relief to me to read the stories and experiences of other femmes. They asked me to participate. Didn't give me any limits or anything. Very cool, right?

...And I have no idea what to write. The pressure, the pressure! Am I supposed to be witty? Intellectual? Original? Yeah, right. Me?

So I decided that I would do my favorite thing, which is to ask questions that may or may not have an answer.

How do I talk about femme as a shared experience, discuss it in a way that is meaningful? And my everfabulous Ferret had a good starting place. "Being femme means paying more attention to culture, to the world around you."

I wasn't sure I liked that. Doesn't that mean conformity? Some people would see it as a weakness, that paying attention to them means they tell you what to do.

"Awareness doesn't always equal conformity. Don't you say, know the rules so you can break them?"

Well, yes, but that's because I'm intrinsically diabolical. But she had a point.

I think we do discard a lot of society's mandates in our effort not to be this Neo-June Cleaver, vacuuming the house in pearls and putting pies in the oven. I think for a lot of people femme conjurs up this vision of a lesbian housewife in lipstick and Laura Ashley, and for some femmes that's true, and they're happy that way.

Most of us are feminists, and maybe it's not just me who has trouble reconciling femme, with its traditional-feminine overtones, with being at least somewhat subversive. We are subversive; unique, I think, simply by existing. Lesbians! Without bad haircuts and flannel! What will society do?!

So why do we do it? What makes us unique? My butch has the answer, again: "Femmes give us butches the femme side of them; you give it like a gift. If I demanded it of you, being feminine, all that- I'd never get it."

And she went on (I'm paraphrasing here): It doesn't mean we aren't subversive, or that we're falling into the usual cultural mandates; it just means we're more selective about who we give us to, about who we care for, and how we do it.

It also doesn't mean that we can't take care of ourselves. We can hang pictures, squish bugs, replace lightbulbs, get stuff off the high shelves, and stand up for ourselves all on our own. And we can usually do it, my darlings, with style. But.

There are different ways to take care of someone. We care for them the way they need, and they care for us. And that is huge. And incredible. That makes us pretty freaking awesome.

I chose femme. Are there queer girls out there who didn't, who just went through life knowing that one day they were destined for corsets and style and a butch boifriend? Probably. I can tell you it surprised the hell out of me.

I love performing femme because I think we do hedonism so very well. Can you imagine a Puritanical femme? If it's in our life it has to look good, or feel good; better if it's both. Does that make us shallow, frivolous like they say we are? (Don't tell me you've never heard it said.) I don't think so. Maybe the people who call us frivolous are jealous. Maybe they don't know how to enjoy a little healthy hedonism, or maybe they don't understand that life is too short to waste on things that give no pleasure. ...We have a lot to teach you.

To me, femme is what we do. Femme is the sex we have, the who and how. It is the way we walk and talk and flirt. It is the clothes we wear, whether we wear silk and heels or skater shorts or blue jeans that slide down because we've forgotten to wear a belt (maybe that's just me). It is the pillow talk with a lover and the way we take care of them, the way we listen, the way we tell them what they want or need to hear. The way we demand things- attention, respect, compliments (you know it's true).

We perform femme. We do it, every day. We are tops as well as bottoms, we do partner with non-butch queers, we do wear sneakers, we are tough, we are even fashion impaired! Sometimes.

So have I talked too much, been pompous? Yeah, probably. Forgive me- it's my first blog tour!

This book made me so happy because it says: you are not alone. You are not wrong if you're confused. You're not weak. You're just who you are.

Which is something everyone needs to hear sometimes, no matter how fabulous they are.

PS- Go see the other posts on the tour this month because they rock!

4/1. Sugarbutch Chronicles

4/2. Ellie Lumpesse

4/3. Queer-o-mat

4/4. CyDy Blog

4/6. Catalina Loves

4/7. cross-post: The Femme’s Guide and Femme Fagette

4/8. Daphne Gottlieb

4/9. Bilerico Project

4/10. Screaming Lemur: Femme-inism and Other Things

4/13. The Femme Hinterland

4/14. Bochinche Bilingüe: Borderlands Writing and The Vagina Adventures

4/15. Dorothy Surrenders

4/16. Miss Avarice Speaks Her Mind

4/17. The Femme Show

4/19. Sexuality Happens

4/20. Queer Fat Femme

4/21. Sublimefemme Unbound

4/22. Tina-cious.com and Jess I Am (butch-femme couple day!)

4/23. FemmeIsMyGender

4/24. The Lesbian Lifestyle

4/25. Femme Fluff

4/26. Weldable Cookies

\4/27. The Verbosery

4/28. A Consuming Desire and Creative Xicana

4/29. Queercents

4/30. en|Gender

Embrace the Pain, Dammit!

Wow... so this is kind of a scary discussion. There's a whole series of it, by the way, and I am not the only one who's taking offense, apparently.

ND, speaking as someone who generally likes your stuff, not cool. Why would you ask these questions if you don't think there's a possibility of changing your mind? Why, if you're going to discuss BDSM, would you only take on this one aspect of it? And I don't know how you can agree with your commenters who treat the sub (and dom) women (and men) who answer you as though their actual, lived experiences don't matter. As though they're crazy, brainwashed, anti-feminist nutjobs if they're submissive women, and sadistic misogynist serial-rapist bastards if they're men.

I mean hell, where do I even fit in with all that? What am I, chopped liver?

It's hard not to take it as a personal attack on my own agency and sexuality. I'm a bisexual feminist in a relationship with a Dom woman- so what does that make me? Deluded, abused, not actually extant? Is it better because Ferret's a woman, or worse because she's butch, so that makes her "like a man"? 

FFS, nobody "groomed" either one of us to like what we like. We just do. And yes, I've been in relationships that were strictly "vanilla" and it was fine. So? Just because I can be content with that, does it mean I should limit myself to only "plain" sex because anything else is "disgusting"? 

Just because I can enjoy sex and relationships with men, does that mean I shouldn't be with my Ferret, because Xtian fundies think it's "disgusting"?  

Because my partner enjoys being dominant, rough, and violent in bed with me, that makes her an abuser, sick, demented? Because she enjoys that dark side of herself, she should kill herself? Come the fuck on.

I enjoy the adrenaline rush that comes with fear during sex-- it's controlled fear like a rollercoaster, not the sickening helplessness of real rape-panic. I enjoy the endorphin rush that accompanies pain done well, and wouldn't do it with anyone I didn't trust totally. 

I love my partner and I'm sorry but I get a little offended at anyone telling me that what I like is "sick" or "abuse". I was in an abusive relationship, thanks. He never beat me, the sex was vanilla, and I was still miserable. Now I have a partner who sometimes whips me with a belt during sex and I've never been so happy. I've given a LOT of thought to BDSM and its feminist implications; thought about whether I'm defective, thought about whether I really enjoy it or whether I'm just doing it because Ferret loves it. 

Is it kinda weird? Yeah. Is it abuse? I'm gonna say no. Do I know the difference? I think so.

I can understand why ND feels the way she does; I get it. It's hard for me to watch a man tie up and flog a woman and NOT associate it with "actual" torture, even knowing the woman in question has not just consented but probably requested this treatment- because she enjoys it. Because yeah, women have been and still are abused that way and it's hard not to see enjoyment of it as a pathology. 

So I get how it would horrify her. 

But...but! It's not the whole story, and it is indeed a long and complicated story. And reducing it to a few sentences- leaving half the numbers out of the equation- means you get a flawed answer. And telling the multitude of men and women who swear they enjoy BDSM that they are sick, deluded, or brainwashed doesn't give enough credit to the agency or free will of strong, intelligent adults- myself among them.

Why Lemur Doesn't Make Lawyer Jokes, Part 2

Continuing from Part 1,  we have a very frightened Lemur, who finally managed to leave her abusive boyfriend. 

She was running out of strength. Her friends were distant, her family was losing patience, and she was becoming afraid to leave the house because every white truck she saw triggered fear. So as a last resort, she did what she'd been taught: she went to the police. She had called them before, but they never seemed to be able to help. This time, though, she had a goal: a restraining order. Something, anything, to make him stop! So she went- and got an interview with a bored-looking officer who not-quite-sneered at her lack of "hard evidence" and told her there was nothing he could do; a judge wouldn't grant a restraining order without evidence of threats of physical harm, which she didn't have. She walked out, feeling alone and helpless.

This was it. There was no way to stop him; the only other option was to try and avoid him- even though he knew her phone number, where she worked, where she lived, where her friends lived... even though he'd accosted her in daylight, in a public place, in his work uniform and seemed to have gotten away with it. There would be time to gather her strength and self-reliance and work out a plan later; at that point, Lemur was defeated. She sat in her car in the police station parking lot and gave in to misery and fear. As Lemur sat there and sobbed, there was a tap on her car window.
A lady stood there in the parking lot next to her car, looking concerned. Lemur opened the door and looked at her. "Are you ok?" asked the lady. At this bit of concern, Lemur lost her reserve and broke down, explaining that her ex-boyfriend was stalking and harassing her and that the police had told her there was nothing they could do about it. The lady's face darkened. "Like hell there's not! You come with me." Lemur followed the woman  across the parking lot toward a different part of the police building, at a complete loss. The lady explained as they walked that she was a public defender; when they got to her office, she sat Lemur down and told her in no uncertain terms that there were, in fact, laws for cases just such as hers, adding her professional opinion that the cop Lemur had spoken to "just didn't want to do the damn paperwork. Lazy ass. You realize if you'd gotten hurt, he's guilty of negligence?"

The lady looked up the laws, showed them to Lemur and gave her a copy of the relevant pages, and then asked for Jerkoff's phone number.
She left a message on his phone: "You should call me for some free legal advice, unless you'd like the first time you speak to me be when you're in jail on a felony charge." She hung up the phone and smiled. "Here's my card. Call me if he bothers you again, but I don't think he will."
She was right. Lemur waited anxiously for a day, two days, a week, a month. Nothing. It was like he'd disappeared. She was finally free, she could leave the house! (Still, it took several more  weeks before she stopped being afraid of white trucks.) She could drive by Jerkoff's neighborhood without detouring to avoid it. Several months later, she met someone nice and realized she was strong enough to try dating again. She grew, and she learned, and she mourned the things she had lost and the time she had wasted. And she held on to the lessons she'd learned, and swore she'd never be such a fool again. (So far, so good.)
But she never forgot the lady lawyer who saved her, gave her her life back, and gave her hope when she was on the edge of despair. Not the police. Not the system. One strong woman, one lawyer who cared about an anonymous wreck of a girl in a parking lot. She didn't forget.

And that is why this Lemur- badass irreverent feminist bitch- doesn't make lawyer jokes. Because a lawyer saved me when no one else would or could. Why did I tell this story? I don't know. Because I felt it important to share my experience. Because someone reading may recognize their own past or present; because someone may avoid that future. 

Because- thank you, Carol-  hope comes from unlikely places.

Why Lemur Doesn't Make Lawyer Jokes: A Long and Painful Story, Part 1

Let me tell you a story:

Several years ago, in a far-away place in the South, there was a young Lemur. This Lemur didn't consider herself naive or easily led; she was sexy and strong and confident. But one day through some friends, this Lemur met a guy when she was newly-single and rebounding. This guy, we'll call him Jerkoff, was in fact a handsome and charming guy, and Lemur soon found herself dating him, despite the occasional... difference of opinion. To make a VERY long story short, Jerkoff soon proved himself to be a manipulative, abusive bastard. Miserable and fearful, having lost many of the things in life most important to her, Lemur struggled with the relationship for nearly two years before she finally found the strength to leave him behind for good.

Jerkoff, however, was determined not to go quietly. Oh, no. He had her under his thumb (despite her repeated attempts at independence) and he knew how to make her cry. He knew how to make her angry and frustrated, and he decided to get his revenge on her for having the audacity to leave him. He began his campaign: he called her phone dozens of times a day. He tried to get into her car when she left him for the final time. He followed her to friends' houses and tried to see her. He began vandalizing her car, nearly injuring her twice. He called and threatened her, threatened her parents and threatened to kill the pet cats she'd been forced to leave with him. He cornered her at a gas station and threw soda on her car: seemingly not a big thing, but humiliating and demoralizing.

To be continued on Part 2...

"My House Is Not On Fire"

So sometimes I worry about my friends. I worry about everyone who just. doesn't. understand! about why this whole feminism thing is so important. And I get angry about it. In theory, I understand that not everyone will think like me or even agree with me, and it doesn't make them wrong. But when it comes to this, and especially when it comes to other women who are deliberately, bilssfully ignorant about the shit that happens all around us, it's hard to keep a level head.

Case in point: my friend B. We have been friends for years and are used to each others' quirks. I was visiting her yesterday and while reading teh interwebz, I saw this post from Hoyden About Town and was bitching to her about the tendency of advertising to treat women as interchangeable body parts. Her response: "I don't care about that stuff. I'm not a feminist, Lemur, you know that." 

"Yes, B, you are. Do you like going to college? Choosing who to marry? Having a career? Owning property? Hell, getting to vote?? Feminists did that. You're a feminist."

"Okay, fine, but I'm not as much of one as you are. I don't care about that stuff, Lemur. I'm not angry about ads and commercials and stuff like you are- they don't affect me. I don't leave the house (and she really doesn't if she can help it), I don't watch TV or read magazines, I don't watch the news. That stuff is just depressing, and I'm happy where I am."

At this point I lose my patience. I tell her about the Global Gag rule, the HHS "conscience rule" that Shrub just passed, about 9 year old child brides in Afghanistan, about rape culture, about the effects of popular media. 

I finish with, "This stuff is allowed to happen because people don't want to worry about it. Because people sat back and didn't care about it, until at some point we realize we've lost all our rights, we're in too deep, and there's no way to fix it. 

Maybe you don't care about these ads, but they care about you! They make you into a demographic, a commodity, an object. This stuff affects how the world sees you, and even though you don't realize it, they affect how you see the world! Your boyfriend, in the other room? He's a good guy, yeah. These "stupid, unimportant ads and stuff" affect how sees you, and me, and himself. No one is immune. This IS important, and someone has to care about it."

I can see by her face that she feels that I'm lecturing her, trying to browbeat her. I can tell she's annoyed, put out, not listening. She doesn't understand, and I feel like crying. I don't know what I can say, what the magic words of realization might be. I can't make her care, but I am baffled that she doesn't. How can any woman not care about this?

I feel as though I am telling her: "The house is on fire! We have to do something!" And she only says: "I am in my room, the door is closed, and it's not warm in here at all."

"Be A Man"

Sorry I haven't updated- still no internet at the house, and still more sick than well. I understand now that seasonal depression thing some people go through. Never thought I'd miss SoFlo, but dear Goddess I just wanna be warm again.

...Anyway. Today's rant is on something I've been seeing in Christian websites just lately (I was looking for a feminist book review and my Google-fu went awry). Actually, I see it all the time whenever Fundies get together and discuss how The Liberals Are Ruining Society. It's this: "We have to encourage our men to be men!" Or some equivalent. Has anyone else noticed this creepy meme?

One commenter on catholicexchange.com (which I will not link) babbles happily "Sometimes my friends who have a “super sized” family like I have sit around and discuss that our large families have forced our husbands to step up to the plate and become a man. They shoulder immense burdens for the sake of their families when they could’ve limited their family’s size through sterilization, the IUD, or the pill and used their wives as objects while they pursued personal interests." 

Yeah, that truckload of brats "forced him" to step up and work back breaking hours to feed all those dependents. Good thing, too- who knows what would've happened if you hadn't been there to add to the world's overpopulation. It's not like he was probably a decent guy from the start or anything. But without all those kids, he might've pursued *gasp* outside interests- like friends, a hobby, or career ambitions. Hey, we all know having a shit-ton of kids prevents an otherwise irresponsible, unfaithful man from chasing other women and/or divorcing his wife and leaving her with 5 kids to feed. Also, good thing to know that the woman who's basically a uterus on legs doesn't feel like an object! Whew! I'm so relieved.

She also adds a cute little aside about how she makes a MUCH better chocolate chip cookie than hubby, but golly, he's her best taster! Tee hee! Cause he's a man and, you know, they love to eat but can't cook! Those menz- they'd starve without a wifey in an apron! 

Excuse me while I go throw up.

And now the church is saying than men aren't manly enough, and that, obviously, old-fashioned gender roles and huge families are the ticket to making them "step up and be men".

I'm guessing what that means is: they should be responsible, loving, considerate, and do their best to care for and protect the ones they love. Be strong enough to take care of their kids, homes, and livelihoods. Treat others as you'd want to treated. Not act like 35-year-old children, not act as though the world and everything in it is their personal toy. 

Great. Awesome. I couldn't agree more. Except... why is this the purview of men? Why do we need to go back to traditional gender roles? Aren't these qualities important for, um, everyone? What- responsibility and steadfastness are only desirable if you have a penis? And us laydeez are just supposed to stand back and giggle/applaud, or something?

Ick. Is it just me, or does that logic not resemble our Earth logic?

Look, my thing is- what is a man, anyway? And why do we make boys work so hard to conform to that narrow ideal? Why can't a woman work and support her family (wage gap aside)? Why can't a man be the one to take care of and nurture his kids? 

Why, other than that we're taught from a young age "this is how things are"? Why is it so important to 'be a man' when what we should all be striving for is to 'be a decent human being'?

Well, catholics and fundies? I'm waiting.   ...Bueller? Anybody?

"Did Your Mother Abort You?"

That's the question an anti-choicer says he raised to various people in South Dakota.

I have asked many people: “Did your Mother abort you?” Before they could answer, I answered for them, saying, “No, she did not. She gave you life.”

What a stupid fucking question. And how convenient that he answers for them. Y'know, I was gonna quote Cara's response to that, and then reply, but instead I'm just gonna link to her article about the SD Abortion Ban Attempt of ought-eight! and you can read her takedown of that awful trope.

And instead of posting this as a long-ass comment on Cara's thread, I decided to post it here and see if I'd get my Very First Troll! So here goes:

I was a wanted baby. Really wanted, first child, mom-standing-on-her-head-after-sex-to-get-pregnant wanted. That makes me really happy, and my mom's never seemed to find her firstborn lacking in redeeming qualities, so I feel I haven't been a letdown in the face of all that anticipation (kinda like having a kid that's the equivalent of socks and underwear for Christmas). And oh by the way, now that I'm here on Earth, I kinda dig it, so that's cool. I'm glad my mom had me, don't get me wrong.

But you know what? Had circumstances been different? Had my mom gotten pregnant at a bad time (couldn't afford, wouldn't have been able to go to school, in a bad relationship, etc.), or before she was ready, or if she just hadn't wanted a kid? Had that been the case, if I could *magically* have told my mother what I, the zygote/fetus/embryo, would've wanted? It would've been for her to have an abortion. I love my mother, and wouldn't have wanted her to give birth to a child she wasn't ready for, couldn't take care of, that might damage her life and that she might resent having to raise. It wouldn't have been to subject her body to nine months of physical and emotional stress only to have to deal with the (probable) emotional wrench of handing me over as soon as I was born to strangers or an indifferent State system. 

For my sake, I wouldn't have wanted to grow up in the overcrowded, oft-hostile fostercare system. I wouldn't have wanted to grow up knowing I was responsible for family hardships or that I was an unwanted burden, or worse, being told that by my parents. And oh yeah, there are some sanctimonious pricks who preach that "We should all Choose Life, because they/she had an Unplanned Pregnancy, but they/she Had The Baby" and they do indeed say just those things to their kid. 

If your mother had aborted you, you'd have no consciousness to know it, and thus it wouldn't bother "you", the embryo, about whom the whole fuss is about. If your mother had you because she was forced/coerced/had no other choice, your life and your mother's are likely to be a whole lot different.

And since I'm not afraid to put the personal in the political, I'll say this. If it were me, making this choice, having an unplanned pregnancy? Well, (aside from the fact that it's highly unlikely at this point and that I'd have to do a lot of explaining to my girlfriend,) I know I don't want children. Not now, pretty much not ever. If I do go crazy enough to decide I want that kind of sacrifice and responsibility, I'll adopt a kid: there're way too many kids who need a home to be just bringin' more into the world, willy-nilly. So IF I were to get pregnant? I'd have an abortion. I've known that from the first time I contemplated third base. I don't presume to tell other women what they must do, and I'm unapologetic about the choice I would make.

The life of a living, breathing, thinking woman should top the rights of a bunch of cells using her for a life support system. Sorry, sounds harsh. But true.