Being Amber Rhea

I have an idea: let’s make a BINGO card for media representation of sex workers!

A BINGO card has 25 squares (including on “free square” in the center that can be adapted creatively as necessary), so help me out with your suggestions. Here’s what I’ve got so far off the top of my head.

Terminology:

• The world’s oldest profession
• High-end / high-class
• Working girls
• Virtual street corner
• Ply their trade
• Sell their bodies

Other characteristics:

• Dismissive/snarky quotation marks (e.g., “work”)
• Photo of scantily-clad woman leaning into car window

Hell, we might have to make more than one card!

Note: this post was inspired by Monica at $pread Blog.

I’m making a personal vow (yet again - maybe it’ll stick this time) to cease and desist reading all blogs that try to make you (general “you”) feel guilty about saying there are any problems in your life, if you’re not living in a cardboard box and selling your children for beans. Or whatever it is. (And usually living in another country, because certainly we don’t have any real problems here, and if people aren’t DYING DYING DYING then it’s not all that bad, now is it.)

Also, certain blogs where the word “privilege” is used as an accusation, a means of silencing.

And, of course, as usual, the blogs that deny that such a thing as privilege even exists - the ones that make me feel like I have a to put in a disclaimer every time I write a sentence like the one above, because they’re such amazing ASSHOLES and that is not what I’m talking about. But then, I don’t actually need a new vow for them, because I stopped reading them years ago - it’s the others that are a problem for me.

Race trumps gender… gender trumps race… this -ism is worse than that -ism… I’m sick of it having to be a fucking CONTEST! That’s not what intersectionality is!

The annoyance level, it is high.

I am so irritated! A few weeks ago I bought a new vacuum cleaner. It’s a Dirt Devil and I can’t really tell if it has an actual model number or name, but it says “D2″ and “Reaction Fresh” on it. I resisted getting the super-fancy super-expensive Dyson because I thought it was silly to spend that much money on a vacuum cleaner. Maybe if I just had tons of money burning a hole in my pocket, but as a normal person, no. So I bought the “mid-range,” I guess… I don’t remember exactly how much it cost but probably like $130-$150?

I used to have a great vacuum cleaner that I got as a wedding present in 2000 and then I got rid of it in 2006 when I moved… I don’t remember why now. I think maybe it died… it must have, I wouldn’t have just thrown it away for no good reason. Anyway after that I had a crappy little thing that I bought for like $30 because I didn’t have much money to spare. Finally I got sick of it and even though I hate spending money I decided to buy a better one. But maybe this wasn’t a better one after all! You know what it does? It shoots a bunch of stuff out the back! I was trying to figure out how that even could happen, and I can’t see anyway. So I don’t understand. I haven’t taken it apart or anything yet, because first I want to talk to the manufacturer (I already tried calling but they’re closed on Sundays; I’ll try back tomorrow even though they’ll probably be out for the holiday, so it’ll probably be Tuesday before I talk to them).

Can anyone recommend a good vacuum cleaner that actually works? I don’t want to keep throwing money away (and really I think I should get my money back, or a replacement that works, for this one). Having a clean home is very important to my mental health. I cannot function well in a space that is not clean. And that brings me to another rant… my ex used to make fun of me about that. Never again!! It is not okay to mock something that’s important to me, especially when it’s, oh, not being a slob like your nasty ass. Anyway. That’s another rant for another time. Right now I just want to get to the bottom of this vacuum cleaner issue!

Re: this Feministe post (which a friend emailed me, because as I mentioned, I’ve been taking a break from reading most blogs)…

I must rant as if no one is looking, briefly.

I’m fed up w/ this bullshit. FED UP. I am just sick of all this groupthink/lockstep mentality going on. And I’m sorry but I’ve always thought that the people who think socialism is so awesome are privileged in their OWN way (as much as I’m sick of the word “privilege” being thrown around so much, too…) because it’s like, you know what, I know what it’s like to NOT have money, and I know it’s not romantic or revolutionary or transgressive - it SUCKS. So for me, having money is empowering not to mention “empaychecking.” Not everybody has the luxury to worry about what the best economic system is when they have to put food on the table, ever think of that? Plus the same old thing I keep coming back to… WHY is having money BAD?? It’s what you do with that money that counts, and yeah, feeding your family is pretty damn awesome. If you also have enough money to help others outside your family? GREAT!! But serious change takes economic leverage, and if we constantly vilify anybody who has a certain amount of money, we’re going to shoot ourselves in the foot.

I’m fucking sick of it.

So there yo go. Cast me out, if you will. *shrug*

If you haven’t read Amanda’s series of posts chronicling her now-completed stint at Bella’s, you are really missing out on some of the best, most insightful writing in a long time. So get on over there and read it. I’ll wait.

Tonight as I was trying to catch up on my almost 300 unread posts in Bloglines (I’ve been on a self-mandated break from reading many blogs other than a select few; this crap really made me feel down in the dumps about blogging for a while), I noticed that someone else, heretofore unknown-to-me blogger Mariko Passion, has now started a journal of her experiences at Bella’s. Cool! Maybe Amanda has started a trend.

Recently I had dinner w/ Lia of Star Light Ministries. And, no surprise, she is awesome. At one point during our extended dinner conversation, we were talking about all the assumptions that are made about women in sex work, and the problem of assuming that the goal of a ministry for sex workers is for the workers to “get out” of sex work. Because as Lia said, that’s judging the work they do and therefore judging them. Plus it’s just the same old stereotypes - obviously no woman would want to be in sex work, obviously they would all do something else if only they had the chance, etc. ad nauseum. I said that even though I feel like it’s not a popular thing to say in activist communities, because I feel like it makes me look like I’m being selfish (ah, that old meme in my head) or shifting the focus, the truth is that beyond just being irritated w/ these assumptions on general principles, I also take them personally. Sex work is something I’ve been drawn to for a long time - at least 10 years - and although as of now I haven’t actually done anything about it, I do take offense to the notion that there must be some pathological explanation for my interest in sex work. I know myself, I know how I feel, and I know that I feel that sex work is something that is interesting/appealing to me. You don’t have to understand it, but hey, I don’t understand why some people want to become lawyers or sales reps or flight attendants, so there you go. I’m smart, responsible, self-aware, capable - and I shouldn’t have to go into this defensive mode of justifying myself, but that’s how it always happens.

Lia asked why I hadn’t tried sex work. With stripping, my answer used to be* that I couldn’t walk in heels, much less dance (with or without heels). That’s obviously no longer a problem, but my issues with it now are:

• I don’t know of any non-smoking strip clubs in Atlanta. Being around cigarette smoke for extended periods of time, especially in poorly-ventilated areas, gives me a pounding headache and makes me feel generally like shit.
• I hate approaching strangers. I really just can’t do it; I get panicky about it. So obviously a job where I have to hustle for lap dances isn’t a good fit for me.
• The bullshit. We’ll come back to this in a minute.

As for escorting or even stuff like FBSM, when Lia asked why I’d never done it, my answer was much shorter: “I’m afraid of getting arrested.” That’s it, plain and simple. And more specifically, I’m afraid of getting arrested and being victimized by the cops. Insert here yet another diatribe about the importance of decriminalization of prostitution.

(To be fair, there are other issues w/ escorting in particular, like the fact that it seems like you have to pretend to give a shit about what the clients are talking about, really really enjoy their company and hang on their every fascinating word… and as Dacia has said about herself, I, too, have no poker face. I have tons of respect for people who can do it, but I just can’t. But that’s not really relevant, because there are many other kinds of sex work that are vaguely escort-like but not as focused on being a companion.)

Lia said she thought I should (only if I wanted to, of course) do what Amanda was doing: try a brief stint at a legal brothel and just see how it goes. I told her there’s no way I would do that. Why? Because of the bullshit.

Just read Amanda’s posts and you’ll see what I’m talking about. The nickel-and-diming with all kinds of fees. The customers trying to lowball you all the time. The cabin fever. Having to do shifts on the damn CB radio.

And the stuff that’s not just annoying, but potentially dangerous: The lack of adequate security. The creepy (yet required by law - ’cause prostitution is legal and therefore the girls are safe, see!) doctor. The drunkenness of customers, and of people to whom you’re entrusting your safety. The lack of easy access to an exit in case of an emergency. The pressure to potentially put one’s health at risk for the sake of not letting “money” walk out the door.

Obviously all jobs have their annoyances. But these are above and beyond what I could put up with. The second set, the ones that are downright dangerous, are obviously conditions that no job should have, ever. The first set, the “annoyances,” all exemplify a huge pet peeve of mine, something that just drives me up a wall: micromanagement by people on little power trips.

It seems to me that that’s what’s behind a lot of this stuff. It’s the same at strip clubs, with the house fees and drink quotas and tipping every damn person on staff… on and on… to me it reeks of people trying to control things and make themselves feel like Oooh Big Important People in whatever tiny way possible. Insecurity. Bred out of a stigmatized industry, not surprisingly. It seems like a vicious cycle.

Major respect to Amanda for doing this and documenting it. What she’s doing is extremely important, and she is an amazing person to have the patience to deal with it at all. I really can’t convey how much respect I have for her w/ this series.

One thing’s sure, her posts have confirmed what I’d suspected for a long time: if I were to be an escort (or whatever), I’d be independent, no doubt about it. Of course I have plenty of issues w/ freelancing in general, but in this case it is definitely the way to go, no question.

* And just look at the comments on that thread for a perfect example of the “explanations on demand” thing. It’s crazy-making, I tell you.

From Monica at the $pread Blog:

Again, what other profession would we do this with? “I was going to help with the open heart surgery for my article, but…at the last minute I threw up and ran out of the room.” “I was going to sit on the 10th floor’s ceiling beams with the construction workers so I could bond with them over lunch, but my fear of heights was just too great, so I just stayed on the second floor, crying and shaking in my hard hat.”

A-freakin’-men.

So this girl was giving me a hard time, ostensibly in a friendly way, about how I wear “baggy clothes” and therefore she didn’t know I had “such a nice body” until she saw my pole dancing videos on YouTube. I should’ve said something to her at the time - and there is a slim but existent chance that she may read this, and I’m okay with that - but I haven’t had the energy for confrontation lately, especially with her, because she’s been such a good friend in so many other ways since my dad’s death. When I look at it objectively it’s a rather minor annoyance in the grand scheme of things. But she just kept going ON and ON about it, telling me things like I need to wear a small not a medium (um, sometimes I do; sizes vary, after all), and you know, at a certain point, it grates. Badly.

And she isn’t the first to do this. Not at all - she just took it further than most people have. I mean, even Rusty said I have “stealth tits” (not mad at him about that; but just saying). People say they’re surprised, as if my measurements snuck up on them, because I “don’t wear tight clothes” (their words). This girl in particular was the first in a while (if ever; I really don’t know) to actually say “baggy clothes.” It got to the point with her where even though I knew she was trying to be complimentary, it was starting to make me feel like I was in middle school all over again, being critiqued about what’s not good enough about me.

And anyway, give me a break! First of all, I don’t think I wear baggy clothes. No, I don’t wear skin-tight clothes, either; but you know why? Because it’s not comfortable to me, especially when it’s HOT out, like it happens to be right now in mid-summer Georgia.

I think the next time I talk to this girl, if she brings it up, I’m going to say something like, “I appreciate your compliments about my figure, but I dress the way I want to dress and the subject is not open for debate.” If I have the energy, that is. I’ll probably be talking to her after work today, so we’ll see if she mentions it. Hopefully she won’t and that’ll be that.

Here’s a list of What I Think about some recent and not-so-recent happenings, designed to illustrate the fact that very few issues are cut and dry, and context matters. To some I might look like a big ol’ contradiction with all this. I’m okay with that.

White progressive bloggers Photoshopping blackface on politicians and claiming it’s satire or “ironic” - Not cool. Totally agree w/ Liza Sabater and many other bloggers who pointed out that, hey, white dude, you don’t get to be the arbiter of what is and isn’t racist. And the more you try to defend your shit with “It’s satire!” the more of an ass you sound like - especially when you go on to tell a woman of color not to “assail [her] betters.” I remember how shocked I was with T-Rex’s behavior when all this went down. Big ol’ FAIL stamp, except, sadly, I didn’t have one of those two years ago.

New Yorker cover - I feel the opposite of above, although I do understand and appreciate the same sentiment at work. I think it is a good example of actual satire; and after all, this is the New Yorker, not the New York Post. Overall, I lean toward Jon Stewart’s “It’s just a fucking cartoon!” but I want to be very very careful about that, because I don’t think “It’s just _____” is or should be a justification for anything. Just look at this, for a particularly timely and unfortunate example. Also, it’s the same kind of rhetoric assholes of various Republicanish-leaning stripes use against progressives, especially feminists: the old “no sense of humor” trope. Hi, here’s a thought: maybe it’s not that we don’t have a sense of humor, maybe it’s that your jokes aren’t funny.

The stripper cartoon referenced in the above graf - I don’t think it’s racist. I’m trying to just chill out and appreciate where/how some other folks whom I respect do think that, but I admit to feeling a little exasperated with it. But, I don’t think I have to say there’s about a million things wrong with that cartoon anyway. I just wonder why the focus has to shift away from the obvious central message, which is that strippers are too stupid and deluded to make their own decisions and it doesn’t matter what they think anyway.

Toby Keith lyrics (not satire) - This hadn’t even been on my radar; let’s just say I’ve had more pressing things to deal with. Then I saw Griftdrift had a post about it. I didn’t read the Huffington Post article because I didn’t care enough; I did go read the lyrics to the song out of curiosity, though. At Manuel’s I was telling Griftdrift that I can see how you could interpret the lyrics as being about racist lynching, and he started to get all up in my face about it (right after I’d told that story about the guy on the plane who could’ve been in first class but ended up in jail, with his name on the no-fly list!) but I kept talking so I could finish my sentence, which was something like, “But it’s pretty flimsy.” I definitely agree about self-identified progressives having preconceived notions about the South, and being big fat fucking hypocrites. Anyway, about the song, mostly I don’t care. It’s Toby Keith for fuck’s sake.

Cliff Bostock’s column about political correctness and a 1967 essay that uses the N-word - I agree with Cliff’s main point that flying off the handle about any usage of the N-word without considering context is a bit much. I think there are some good points to be made here, but he weakens his entire argument by resorting to the “lack a sense of humor” thing. Come on, Cliff, you can do better than that. Why go for the low-hanging (not to mention totally irrelevant) fruit?

John Kerry says “tar baby” (and Tony Snow said it a while back, too; also not satire) - Not racist. Sorry, sticking to that one (oh, ha!). I get that the term “tar baby” has also been used as a racial slur. But that’s not the case here. Here’s what it actually means. And I hate that saying this lumps me in with people like Daily Kos denizens (or Firedoglake!), but there you go.

—

Consider this yet another attempt at writing as if no one is reading. I’m nervous about hitting Publish, but I might as well get some practice in. And besides, as Joseph reminded me via email today (thanks, Joseph!) it’s not like I haven’t dealt with a whole hell of a lot of shit on my blog already.

*sigh* Oh well.

I’ve lost what little patience I had left.

The following words and phrases, as so often tossed about in the blogosphere, mainstream media - hell, most anywhere - by people sitting up on their high horses feeling so proud of themselves, get me steaming; and with rare exception (as I will always reiterate that context matters), are cues for me to stop listening, because I’ve better things to do than hop aboard the Bullshit Train for another trip round the Armchair Psych Ward.

• Can’t take a joke
• Credibility
• Criticism
• Critique
• Defensive
• Ethics
• Humorless
• Integrity
• Just disagreeing
• Race card
• Satire
• Sensitive
• 4:38 p.m., ETA: Thin-skinned
• Whiners

Congratulations, you’ve got a non-argument. How about a little originality, for once?

Everybody’s a damn expert. I’m sick of it.

12:16 p.m.: Edited to put in alpha order.

I think all this talk of “ask permission before you link to someone’s blog” is fairly ridiculous. That’s not how the internet works. And especially for blog carnivals? That would take forever. I think the people who are asking have never put together a blog carnival.

So, we have this:

For God’s sake you and Ren are the most negative, rage-filled bloggers I know for all your raving about sex ‘positive’ this and that. Like taking every single critical thought about sex positve as personal attacks against your desire to pole dance (did anyone criticize you for pole dancing by the way? I missed that part) or do sex work. Banging your heads constantly against that brick wall of how stuuuuuupppppiiiiid everyone is for not comprehensively understanding the terminology and the meeeaanning and history of “sex positive.” Who fucking cares? Be a feminist and enjoy your pole dancing and write something about how women are being treated outside blogland. Between Twitter updates and disecting comments from ‘radfem’ blogs, your blog has gone down.

So, anonymous commenter, does dissecting comments in my moderation queue that talk about how much this blog sucks because I spend so much time disecting [sic] radfem comments (funny, I thought my high point with that was around mid-2006) further contribute to the downward slide of my blog? Congratulations, we’ve just gone meta!

The possible perceived irony is not lost on me that I am posting the comment here as a jumping-off point for a post, but won’t be letting it out of the moderation queue to show up where this person tried to post it. Well, I don’t care.

And that (”Well, I don’t care”) would typically be the extent of my reaction to such a comment anyway - I mean really, I don’t understand what motivates people to leave such comments (especially anonymously; if you really feel that strongly, at least have the guts to put your name to your words). If you find yourself “bored to death” (this is the clever little fake email address the person entered; boredtodeath@brickwall.com, to be exact, brought to you courtesy of IP address 67.159.46.12) with a blog and think the blog has “gone down,” then truly, I cannot understand the motivation to leave a comment saying as much. To me the solution is simple: STOP READING THAT BLOG. No one’s putting a gun to your head and forcing you to read it, and anyway, as I’ve said countless times, the primary reason this blog exists is for ME, not for anyone else. Or, as Pink would say, “I’m not here for your entertainment.” You don’t like Twitter updates? You don’t like dissection of radfem comments? *shrug* The door’s thattaway, I won’t miss you.

Some things truly do just roll right off me. I think that under normal circumstances, the above comment would. But maybe not, who knows. Because, even under normal circumstances (whatever those are - but I mean, when I’m not dealing with some major life upheaval, I guess) there are some comments that even though objectively I know I shouldn’t give a shit about, because who the fuck is this person and why would I care what they think and it doesn’t matter anyway - well, the comment will get under my skin anyway. I’ll feel that familiar “sting,” that’s the only way I can describe it. And rather than try to quell those reactions, walk it off, suck it up, tell myself it doesn’t matter, I think it’s better to allow myself to feel what I’m feeling, and explore why a particular comment hurts me when another, objectively comparable comment does not. I’m a fan of the introspection and examination, after all (which is why radfems who constantly implore sex-positive feminists to do more “examining” really make my blood boil!).

This comment above, when I first saw it earlier today, made me want to cry. I don’t accept the “If you get upset the bully has won” line. I also don’t believe that crying equals weakness. I could puff out my chest and protect myself with snark and pretend like it didn’t affect me, but the truth is, that comment made me sad. Angry, too, definitely; but sadness was the immediate feeling that swept over me.

I’m on this new/old pursuit of trying to write as if no one is reading. That’s why I started this blog: to write for me. Granted, I won’t do some of the stupid things I did at first, bless my heart, like mention my employer, talk about the details of their ordering system and why it sucks, mention my boss by name and talk about why she sucks, etc. But hey, it was 2002 and not many people were reading blogs - such as, fortunately, the manager of the Borders in Athens!

Oops, digression. But as I was saying, I’m trying to get back to writing for me and no one else - but when I get comments like this, it shakes me up and reminds me that yes, there are people reading, and some of them are downright despicable and will try to hurt me. Either they don’t think of me as a person with feelings (I guess for some people the internet really does lead to depersonalization?) or, more disturbingly, they know full well I’m a person with feelings but they don’t care and they WANT to hurt me. And yes, I know that says much more about them than it does about me, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m hurting.

Believe me, I have plenty of experience with people being malicious toward me for being openly and unashamedly sexual, for being a feminist, for refusing to “know my place” or laugh at their stupid, offensive jokes. So while I understand that this kind of vitriol/backlash/hatefulness happens often and to many people, when I really think about it I still cannot really understand WHY someone would feel the need to lash out at someone for being a feminist, for example. What are they so scared of? (And yes, I know full well what they’re scared of - not that they’d ever admit it. But still, what makes people, even if they’re scared, lash out like that in such an unthinking way?)

As to this particular comment: Did anyone criticize me for pole dancing? Oh, honey, you did miss that part, didn’t you! I have a whole stable of comments from people telling me just how deluded I am, and won’t I please examine some more, and WHY do I do it, c’mon, explain WHY, because the fifty explanations prior weren’t good enough, and apparently I DO have to provide explanations on demand, because if I don’t then it just shows how defensive and insecure I am, and certainly a point-blank “fuck you” would be totally inappropriate…

Maybe one day I will get to a place where all or most of these comments roll right off of me, instead of just some. I’m working on it.

All this reminds me, I have another post started in draft mode about how I think people should be nicer in general, and I don’t buy the “proud New Yorker” thing some people do where they’re like, I’m an asshole and I’m proud of it, I’m going to be blunt, so there! I think that sucks. I don’t think bluntness by itself is anything to be proud of, although at times it can be (e.g., calling out BS, not sugar-coating difficult truths, not gossiping behind people’s backs). Again: context, people. I should finish that post.

Busy today, and if I’m going to be blogging, I want to get back to writing personal stuff; but I made the mistake of going back to that thread (which has exploded), and I saw this comment from Emilie Dice and it irritated me:

Because men are already “sex positive” by cultural default. It’s not an issue for them. Of course they want women making the right choice to cater to their sexist demands. It’s a given.

That really annoys me because it is so NOT what being sex-positive is about. It reminds me of non-sex-positive feminists who say, “I like sex! So how can I be sex-negative?” Because it’s not about whether you personally like sex. It’s about so much more than that. And the traditional patriarchal construct of how male and female heteronormative sexuality is played out is NOT sex-positive. So a guy not being afraid to say he likes to fuck isn’t necessarily sex-positive, either. Does he subscribe to the virgin/whore dichotomy? How does he view women who are openly, actively, unabashedly sexual? Does he speak in denigrating terms about some women and/or some types of consensual sex? Does he think “gay” is an insult? Does he use gendered insults? On and on and on. And of course, anything that is sexist (see Emilie’s comment) is by definition NOT sex-positive.

A few weeks ago I collected some sex-positive links to serve as reference for explaining what I mean, since I seem to be so often repeating myself.

So I know that last post of mine wasn’t very “fair.” Part of me feels bad but part of me just can’t get too worked up about it.

I just feel like in BlogLand recently (well, and not so recently, too), there’s a lot of “group think” and generalizations going on, and if you don’t fall in lock-step, then you’re out of the Cool Kids Club.

There are some situations where generalizations are helpful, instructive, and necessary. I think making a blanket statement of “no blanket statements” is just as ignorant as, well, most blanket statements! Because sometimes it’s appropriate. But I think that’s the exception rather than the rule. And I get the impression that a lot of bloggers who move in some of the same circles I do kind of blog with an iron fist.

It’s hard to write about this, too, because I’m afraid I’ll end up sounding like those whiny assholes who come to feminist blogs and go, “Not all men are [x]!” YES, we know, thanks for making it all about you YET AGAIN, now please to be shutting your dumb mouth.

I’m not a patient person in general, BUT, with friends and on a one-on-one basis, I can be very patient. See, nuance. What might look like a contradiction to the casual observer is actually just the fact of nuance and complexity that we all have within us. And I think a lot of what is missing from some of this blog drama (which I’ve mostly just been observing and shaking my head at, rather than getting involved in, as I know I wouldn’t be welcome anyway) is nuance. Context. Because guess what, context matters. A lot of things have to be taken on a case by case basis.

Like I said at Trinity’s, wrt porn and such: (as usual, double blockquotes are me quoting someone else)

So uh, “men ask women to do Those Things” is true, but not really worth getting furious at people for, to me. Again, even if that’s sexist: mosquito bite. Not worth my worry.

It seems to me that a lot of the time, the asking is set up as a bad thing. And I’ve never really grokked that. Because what always comes to my mind is, “So, one partner is communicating with the other partner about hir sexual desires.” What’s bad about that?? It’s a GOOD thing to be able to tell your partner, openly and with no shame, “[x] turns me on” or “I’d really love to try [y].” The part where good or bad comes into play, I think, is what happens next - and even that is a lot more complex and nuanced than a lot of these scripts make it out to be.

It’s not enough to just say “[x] is wrong.” [x] doesn’t exist in a vacuum, and all the internal and external factors surrounding it have to be parsed in order to get an accurate understanding.

And yet, with all that said? Yeah, there are still plenty of times when the motivation, intent, etc. doesn’t matter AT ALL; what matters is the resultant action. But again: nuance! None of this applies across the board!

I’m having a hard time trying to explain this but I don’t actually think it’s that hard of a concept to grasp, mentally, without words.

Next thing I want to write about: the fallacy of assuming that just because someone’s poor, it gives them special insight into, well, everything. There’s a term for that but I can’t remember what it is.

Dear “that guy” at the sex club last night,

Let’s get right to it. First of all, if you see my boyfriend and I getting our things out of our locker and getting dressed, you make yourself look stupid by coming up and saying, “So, you gettin’ ready to leave?” Thanks, Captain Obvious! However, I could’ve toned down my internal snark and forgiven that awkward attempt at small talk (lord knows I’m no master of it myself) if it weren’t for where you went next.

“I been seein’ her all night. Just wanted to touch her once.”

HELLO. If there ever was the remote possibility that I might have a smidgen of interest in your dumb ass? You just shattered it by speaking to Rusty, about me, AS IF I’M NOT THERE!! If you want to “touch [me] just once” so badly, it would behoove you address me directly, since I am, amazingly, a fully-functioning adult capable of speaking for myself.

Further, I mentally kicked myself the second after the response (see, I can talk!) left my mouth: “Sorry, no.”

Ah, there’s that lovely social conditioning as a woman again. Sorry? I most certainly was NOT sorry. If only I’d had the presence of mind to say, while you were still standing there, the biting things I said a few seconds after you’d skulked away. I would’ve said, “No. And let me give you a word of advice, hon” - and thence recited the third paragraph above.

This is not the first time this has happened, either. What is it with creepy guys at sex clubs, speaking about rather than to a woman who is right in front of them?? Surely you weren’t suggesting that, basically, Rusty is my owner, and thereby grants or retracts consent on my behalf. Surely not.

It was couples-only night, so you must’ve come with a lady friend. I hope for her sake that she’s the Patron Saint of Perpetual Patience.

Wishing you a clue,

Amber

Yet again, I say worthwhile things on other people’s blogs, and then cross-post to mine.

I’m not linking to where I originally said this, because 1) my comment is still in moderation; and 2) the blogger in question might not want me to link, and I want to respect that possibility until I know for sure.

Oh, and typos in the original have been corrected, because yes, I can rewrite history like that! Ha!

Anyhow:

Activists who are intolerant of people who don’t “get it” annoy me, because it’s like, wait, were you just BORN “getting it?” Maybe, but probably not. And if you can help someone see the err of their ways without villifying them, they’re more likely to be a good ally.

On the other hand, though, I do have a BIG problem with what I see all too often from a lot of people who are rightly called out on their sexist/racist/homophobic/whatever behavior: “But I didn’t MEAN it!” So?? The intent is irrelevant. The impact is made. The damage is done. The hurt is real. Now, the adult thing to do is deal with the consequences of your (general “you”) actions instead of expecting the person you hurt to take care of YOUR feelings.

As a blogger I sometimes read recently said:

The pragmatics of the argument are obvious, but it misses the basic human element: oppression is ugly and it hurts. And it’s unfair to tell the victim to “suck it up” and “play nice” in order to force the change and equality that they deserve.

As for certain words, the thing I can’t wrap my head around is: what’s the motivation to continue using them? Why is it so IMPORTANT? What do you LOSE by not using those words? This is what I never understand w/ people - or wait, I’ll say it, ASSHOLES - who talk about how they feel so “attacked” by gay rights activists saying they shouldn’t throw around “faggot,” for example. Why is it so important for you to be able to use a homophobic insult?? What do you gain? I want to say to them (and sometimes do, on the rare occasions when I can stomach dealing with them), you better take a good hard look at yourself if that hurtful word is THAT important to you.

And as for “retard” in particular, I cannot grasp how or why anyone would continue using it after, say, reading Bastante Kim’s posts. Using the word out of ignorance is one thing; it doesn’t make it any less offensive or hurtful, but ignorance can be changed. If one is NOT ignorant and yet continues to use the word, I can only conclude that they are stupid or spiteful.

Update: Linked, per blogger’s permission!

Seriously. What the hell, people.

On that increasingly headdesk-inducing thread - where the word “strawman” would be applicable, but I loathe that word, so I’m refraining from using it for now - I said (double blockquotes are me quoting someone else):

Feminism is about standing up for women, all women, I agree. I do struggle with standing up for a woman who as First Lady would be part of implementing anti-women policies, but gotta do it anyway. Pretty far down on my list though. Really far down. Somewhere below “check out Laura Bush’s chili recipe” and “what is Phyllis Schlafly up to these days?”

I think you’re still missing the point. I didn’t read this post as a defense of Cindy McCain, or really anything specific to her at all - she was an example, of which there are countless others. The point I got was, it’s not okay to vilify women based on some perceived stereotypical external traits that we really know jack shit about. If we talk shit about a woman for being blonde and thin, we’re no better than the assholes we call out for talking shit about a woman being the opposite.

and:

But even if we DID prove that her policies were not egalitarian, which to me is unclear at this point, it STILL doesn’t give us license to call her a Barbie or “stupid hair” or Stepford.

And this is REALLY Feminism 101. How many of us have lamented the seeming inability of men to argue with us based on our views, and not bring our looks into it? Surely we’ve all noticed that attacks on a woman’s looks are de rigeur when one disagrees with her. We need to lead by example. You can absolutely HATE a woman’s position on certain issues, hell, her entire philosophy on LIFE - but that does not give you license to attack her looks. I cannot stand Ann Coulter - I think she’s a hateful person. But you’ll never hear me making cracks about her looks. Unfortunately the same can’t be said for other self-identified progressives. (”Man Coulter,” anyone?)

and:

But what does that boil down to, dismissing? Is it dismissive to not write laudatory blog posts about CMcC? Is it ok if I simply ignore her?

Seems like you’re arguing against an argument Octo (nor anyone else on this thread) did not actually make. It’s not about whether or not you like Cindy McCain. It’s about using sexist language to refer to her (or any other woman). That’s NOT OKAY no matter who the woman is. You can hate her guts, but if you start taking jabs at her looks or calling her a cunt or what-have-you, you’ve crossed a line into unacceptable territory.

and lastly:

Calling someone a Stepford isn’t so much an insult as naming her oppression.

Nope, what it’s doing is taking away her agency, much in the same way as this bullshit.

I do not see why this is a difficult concept.

You can hate Cindy McCain, but you cannot substitute critiques of her *looks* for critiques of her *political views* and expect the argument that sexist language is unacceptable to hold a whole hell of a lot of water elsewhere.

I fully support Ren declaring herself the god-emperor of Rome for the day.

Common sense, people. Let me show you it.

I do not understand that while there is no question that sexism affects everyone, there is such a refusal to see that there is a great difference between “slut” and “stud”. Or that cat-calling, honking, or otherwise making loud overtures towards a woman will, often, annoy the shit out of that woman and it is, generally, not something men have to deal with as often, if at all. I give a thumbs up to the idea that attraction is natural, but a thumbs down to “society expects/forces this behavior on us, thus I must”…the God Emperor of Rome believes in free will. And that both men and women are capable of employing it and using it to not do what society tells them to do all the time.

And seriously, I do not understand why more men are not, apparently, offended at the idea that they’re basically mindless automatons doing whatever society or “biology” (to which they often nebulously appeal) tells them to do. ‘Cause I’d be pretty offended if people were suggesting I’m incapable of making my own decisions. Oh wait, people are suggesting that, and yeah, I’m offended!

Sometimes my mind just boggles at the, well, mind-boggling stupidity of it all.

Which reminds me of the title of a post I need to write: “I am not a patient person.”

Ren gave me kudos for engaging on this thread; and frankly, I surprised myself by having the stomach for it.

Quote of the morning goes to Ren, commenting about this particular installation of hand-wringing. (It was hard not to quote her entire post!)

MAYBE for people with kinks or rougher preferences feminist sex includes being aware enough of what they like to ASK for it, do it, enjoy it, explore it WITH other CONSENTING ADULTS! Wow! There’s a fucking thought…

I’ll tell you what, I think the woman who has the spine to tell her partner “I want you to pin me down, choke me, fuck the hell out of me and call me names” is a hell of a lot more empowered sexually than the vanilla woman who lays there and thinks of England rather than telling her partner amid sex what she really wants…no matter what that is. The woman who says “tonight, you’re going to fuck me like an animal, and tomorrow, I’m gonna fuck you like an animal” is light years ahead of the woman too ashamed or afraid to say that. The woman who tells her partner she wants to tie them up, do them with a strap on, and smack them around is better off that the woman who takes what she is given because she is ashamed to mention she’d like to do that.

And I sure as fuck want everyone to examine why they think they can tell other adult consenting people how to fuck or that they are doing it wrong and why they feel they can shame them for it.

I’ll have more to say about this later, when I get a free moment.

I recently had to ban another commenter. He left two bizarre, assholish comments. And I had no idea who he was, even though he claimed to have met me. (It wasn’t until after I’d banned him that I recollected who he was, thanks to a Twitter reminder from a mutual acquaintance… but I won’t go into that, out of respect for said mutual acquaintance [whom I consider a friend, actually]).

His work can be seen here and here.

After noticing he’d been banned, he sent me the following email, with the subject line “pardon me”:

Apologies for, apparently, shitting on your blog. Whatever it was that pissed you off was unintentional.

have a nice life

This, dear readers and generally sane people of the world, is what we call a NON-APOLOGY.

Not to mention the nearly unfathomable obtuseness of it all. Whatever it was that pissed me off? As if it’s just so difficult to imagine just what that might have been. No clue, really! I must be off my gourd, because seriously, what could it have been!

And then, the clincher… the trademark of non-apologies…

“It was unintentional.”

Well whoopdy-freakin’-do! That makes everything okay, then!

You know, I really do not understand why so many people use the “I didn’t mean to!” thing as some kind of shield. Why do they think that matters?? You didn’t mean to. Okay, great - so you’re not a complete sociopath. And? The act is done. The impact is made. You’ve gotta deal with the fallout caused by YOUR action - intentional or not.

I keep coming back to this post.

All kinds of people do this. Hell, I’ve done it myself, on occasion. And I do think there are rare (I repeat, rare) occasions where clarification of intent does matter. But those are the exception, not the rule, and the ones I can think of would all involve people who know each other really well.

The non-apology. It’s a perennial non-favorite.

As usual, inimitable Susie nails it:

For her, it’s like Iggy Pop spotting a CBGB T-shirt for sale at the mall. What “Sex and the City” did was co-opt a very real, very important movement at the time that was dedicated to female sexuality and was in no small part spearheaded by Bright. Unfortunately, “in some cases, like with ‘Sex and the City,’ the fantasy became bigger than the reality of women speaking about their sexuality.” As “Sex and the City” returns, “everyone knows who Sarah Jessica Parker is, but Sarah Jessica Parker is not a pioneer in sex-positive feminism.”

The women of “Sex and the City,” asserts Bright, aren’t political. “They’re desperate to get married. They obsess about their marital status.” And they turned the sexual revolution for women of the new millennium into a business. To make her point, Bright references a recent New Yorker essay, “The Fall of Conservatism” by George Packer, in which Pat Buchanan paraphrased social theorist Eric Hoffer: “Every great cause begins as a movement, becomes a business, and eventually degenerates into a racket.” Comments Bright: “‘Sex and the City’ is the racket part of what once was recognizable as the sexual self-emancipation of the feminist movement.” For her, the commodification of the 21st century female sexual revolution hits too close to home. “I can’t watch these women, you know, make asses of themselves and be so petty and small-minded about sexual possibility. I take it too personally.”

Says Bright, “I feel like someone drove over me with a truck. I feel invisible. I feel — you know what I feel like? I feel like Trotsky when Stalin airbrushed him out of all the pictures of the Russian Revolution. I feel like the revisionist version of the sexual liberation movement is so stupid and shallow. If the original idea was about self-knowledge, and being orgasmically aware, and large and in charge, and independent, and not pathetically hung up on a man’s approval, then the show is a failure.” But, she adds, “I take it very seriously. I’m sure the people who make the show would say, ‘Lighten up. Susie Bright — what a pain.’”

This is what bothers me so much about Sex and the City.

And the money quote:

You have to laugh sometimes, how these things finally enter the mainstream vocabulary, what becomes exploitable, and what becomes lost.

And once again I find myself feeling like I did when I first read Full Exposure ten years ago: wishing that I could be like Susie when I grow up.

More good that pole dancing can do:

The 18-year-old, from Honiton, suffers from cystic fibrosis and said the activity has changed her life and improved her health dramatically.

She said: “Because my condition mainly affects my lungs, this sort of vigorous workout has improved my lung function.

“I have not been in hospital so much since starting pole dancing and it has opened up other activities to me as well, like swimming and hill walking.”

Unfortunately, officials at her college shot down her idea of holding a pole dancing workshop. Their reasoning? It was “inappropriate” and has “negative connotations.”

Uh yeah and thanks for UPHOLDING those connotations by being total assholes!

I’ve had this pinned in Bloglines for a while now. I quoted from it on my Tumblr, too. I guess I kept thinking I’d come back and write more lengthy commentary, but I realize there isn’t much else I could say, other than just: I relate. So I submit now without comment, a rather lengthy excerpt from Miss Syl’s post Type cast.

One thing that’s interesting about this internet world–and the written word in general–is the perception aspect. That is, the perceptions one builds of the people one reads. Much like reading a book where you create a mental image of the character, people read a blogger’s words and filter them through their own imaginations and experience. And whether deliberately or no, a picture of what the person would be like to interact with in “real life” develops–you invent an imaginary voice for the person, an imaginary height, body type…you think you “get” how that person would move or respond or act in real life.

I suppose this response is only natural. But it’s good to remember that this imagined perception is all you, not them.

…

Assumption #3: Because I talk about sex it means I want to fuck you, or that I’m an emotion-free Fembot designed specifically for your pleasure.

This one I feel really deserves no explanation–it should be an obvious fact of life. But it is shocking to me how often men themselves are shocked by a woman who will talk about sex with frankness and openly say she enjoys it. And equally shocking to me are the assumptions some of them make based on that reality. I mean, come on fellas, is it really that rare these days? When a GUY talks to you about sex, do you assume he wants to fuck you, regardless of his orientation?

So for the record: just because I talk about sex with you doesn’t mean I want to have sex with you. It means simply that I like talking about sex as one of many topics I enjoy talking about. It doesn’t mean I am trying to turn you on, even if you do get turned on. Saying that I enjoy sex doesn’t mean I’m thinking of having it with you. Necessarily. Of course, any of those conditions may be true: in some cases I might want to fuck the guy I’m talking to, or tease him to arousal, or I might be thinking about having sex with him. But this is not the rule by a long shot.

…

End point: A blog gives you very little to go on. Even when people are totally genuine, we are all of us more than we appear in the little glimpses of ourselves we give you. I myself have been surprised multiple times when I’ve met online people in real life and something about them has completely clashed with my perception of them.

And, I will end by posing to my readers the same questions Miss Syl poses to hers (the “what do I look like” one is less relevant, since I post plenty of photos).

I’m curious: Just for fun, what image of me do/did you have in your head? What do I look like, sound like, act like, dress like? I promise to debunk all misconceptions offered with the real picture (unless you ask me not to).

And for those of you who already know me off blog a bit–or for anyone else–what misperceptions do you run into most between your writing and in-the-flesh selves?