Being Amber Rhea

Insert sophomoric joke here about “commentary on briefs.” Hey, I can’t help it; Dacia’s excellent Naked City interview with Sadie Lune reminded me that I once had my photo taken on Ho Plaza:

Anyway, somehow I’ve ended up with 7 items pinned in Bloglines again. Oh, bother. So here’s some stuff I wanted to talk about at greater length:

• porn law follies (from Open Source Sex)

  Violet Blue explains some of the profuse idiocy that is Section 2257. If you don’t know much about 2257, don’t care, or (especially) if you think it’s a good idea because who would want to repeal it except sickos who dig child porn, you should definitely read this post. Money quote, emphasis original:

  You know, I’m really in favor of laws that make sense when it comes to kids, adults and porn. Too bad we don’t have any.

• Oh, the irony (from Mistress Maeve)

  I could really relate to Maeve here. I’ve experienced that feeling of revealing something to a sex partner (a fantasy, desire, preference, etc.) and having them not respond positively, and feeling utterly crushed and embarrassed - and of course, with my annoying idiosyncrasy of crying at inopportune times, having the tears sting my eyes. And I don’t think there’s any shame in that - it shows that we’re human, and when we open ourselves up and make ourselves vulnerable, as you have to do with sex (even casual, no-strings-attached hook-ups require a certain level of vulnerability; all sex does), deeply-felt emotions are on the line. Especially living as we do in a sex-negative society that has told us all along that our desires are wrong and bad and shouldn’t be discussed in “polite company.”

  So, really I think it’s good for those of us who advocate for sex-positivity and open, healthy communication in relationships to have experienced that kind of thing, because it helps us remember that this stuff is hard - but so worthwhile.

• Previous Posts Revisited (from $pread Blog)

  An excerpt will speak for itself for this one:

  For instance, when Lyderson claims “the vast majority of young women in prostitution are controlled by pimps and suffer worse conditions in terms of violence, number of clients and lack of autonomy the longer they stay in the trade”, what is actually meant is that the vast majority of prostitutes in the DePaul study fit that description, and this is a study of only 100 women. Similarly, when she goes on to talk about percentages (”58 percent of women were transported to different locations for prostitution”) it would be equally true to say simply “58 of the respondents were transported”….but “percentage” sounds more dramatic and substantial than providing the actual number.

• Booty 911: Butt Pimples B-Gone! (from Naked City)

  I pinned this post as a reminder to myself. I am so ordering this product.

…okay, there are others I want to mention, but I’m too damn sleepy to write anymore. Bed beckons.

Check out these interviews Rachel Kramer Bussel did with me, Viviane, and Twanna. They’re a precursor to an upcoming Huffington Post piece. Here’s an excerpt from my interview:

How do you see the “sexual community” where you live vs. the community you’ve found online? What do online communities offer that offline ones don’t regarding sexual openness?

It’s not always a simple matter of delineating “online” and “offline” community; the beauty of social media is that those barriers are breaking down. My online community is my offline community. Maybe not all the time, when things like geographic distance comes into play; but all these people who knew of each other thanks to the internet came together at Sex 2.0 and had a really kick-ass time in Atlanta.

But speaking of geographic barriers, online community can fill the gaps when people aren’t able to get together IRL. If you live in an isolated area, you might feel pretty cut off from others who share your sexual interests; but with access to the internet, suddenly you’re not so alone anymore.

Also, online, people may feel more comfortable talking about things that are painful or embarrassing for them to discuss face-to-face. This is a useful facet of online community regardless of what one’s offline community looks like.

This post at Bound, Not Gagged really touched me.

Her death has been heavy on the hearts of many a sex worker, indicative as it is of this juggernaut of a system that could grind us into nothing if we get caught up. For me, I think her death translates into real fear. A fear that is about fighting the good fight, and still going down. If we manage to survive and thrive in a crazy industry; if we live ethically as sex workers and use all our faculties to operate our businesses and maintain what we believe is right, we still might end up dead. Ms. Palfrey was a resourceful woman. A woman connected, perhaps dangerously, to big players in the government. And she got royally fucked. Someone, somewhere said, we’re going to bring her down. We’re going to make an example of this one. And they didn’t stop until she was swinging from a rope.

…

I regret deeply now that I, we, did not do something more concrete to support her in her struggle. It is a bare and unpleasant truth that the moment a sex worker comes under legal fire, s/he becomes untouchable. Abandoned by clients, friends, etc…how did Palfrey end up in her mother’s home? Why wasn’t she staying with me? Where were her friends? Where was her support network?

This blog was begun as a response to her original arrest. She has, inadvertently, been an enormous catalyst in the sex workers rights movement. And now she’s dead.

What the fuck.

Keep Deborah Jeane Palfrey, and what her death means, in your thoughts starting at 7:00 p.m. (Atlanta time) today, for the next 24 hours. And all the time, really.

Figleaf posts about pole dancing, and includes this footnote:

[Quick note: The post by 100% Injury Rate, the source of the version of photo I used, above, mentions that the Australian program teaches girls *and* boys, which is at least one step in a positive direction, although it sounds like it’s for kids as early as age seven. –fl]

I’m just going to repost the comment I left over there:

I don’t understand why something has to be done by boys/men for it to be seen as valid.

And Figleaf, as I’m sure you will appreciate, if I see one more person dismissively refer to pole dancing as “spreading your legs around a pole” and otherwise talking out of their ass about it, my head is going to fucking explode. Seriously people. If you have never tried it? SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT IT. You don’t know what you’re talking about.

I have NO patience for this. NONE.

On a side note, Figleaf, if you are reading this, I have to say… you know I value and respect your writing, but I’ve been pretty baffled by some of the things you’ve written lately, and what appears to be (in many cases) a regression to more “conservative” sexual and social views. What gives?

And no, before anybody asks, I am not going to fly off the handle about “OMG they’re teaching pole dancing to children!!!“, which is what the expected/approved reaction seems to be. Look. Perceptions never change if we don’t challenge them. Get the fuck over it. And, the meaning of something is different depending on the context! This should not be a difficult concept! (Jenny, I know you’ve written about this, but if it was on your blog, I can’t find the post right now. Or maybe it was in a comment here?) Yes, pole dancing originated in strip clubs. So what?? Jazz music has its roots in slavery… does that mean if you like jazz you’re giving the stamp of approval to slavery?

(Besides, kids climb on poles all the time, we just don’t call it “pole dancing!”)

Detritus from my “Stuff to Post” label (with my notes to self, where included):

January 4, 2006

• http://davemerrill.livejournal.com/310920.html
  Maybe reference in post about ATL intown neighbhorhoods, addressing homeless problem, etc… (also idea of “yuppies”?)

February 21, 2006

• AJC women-to-woman porn thing
• UGA Beer class
• For the CSS blog - CSS3 selectors - http://www.evolt.org/article/CSS3_The_new_Frontier/17/60319/ and http://www.456bereastreet.com/archive/200601/css_3_selectors_explained/

February 26, 2006

• The Top 10 Clues That You Are an Amateur Blogger
  Hmmmm…

March 16, 2006

• Objectification (expand on this in detail)
• Newspaper usage of gay and transgender
• C Loaf transdude story
• Nikki’s rant about contraceptives and “men’s rights” BS
• Gender and blogging - also the implicitly sexist remark on the referring blog about blogging tools being “tricky” - http://a.bunchof.us/2006/03/14/gender-and-blogging/

August 29, 2006

• Interesting comment to blog about

November 27, 2006

• Interesting:
  

  Is it a white liberal American thing this fallacious idea that there are always two equal sides to an argument and that the answer or the truth must lie somewhere in between, thus everybody must have their say in every forum? It certainly seems to be a popular belief on those blogs that give a platform to anti-feminists to air their views.

  YES and I should probably write an essay about it. “Free speech” and “the right to hold an opinion” have been entirely misunderstood in this country, I think. And of course, there are never ONLY two sides, and the ‘truth’ is NOT necessarily in between.

  The right to free speech is NOT the right to speak everywhere, all the time, and the “right to an opinion” does not mean opinions cannot be debated or examined - or ignored.

  Some people seem to be really insecure about their opinions, and yet want them protected: as though they were like body parts they were dissatisfied with, but do not want to be teased about. Of course, one shouldn’t be mean to people about such things, or about experiences they’ve had … but that is a very far cry from deciding or not to engage someone’s opinion, or to disagree with it, or not to give it weight.

  People do NOT understand this, it seems, and I think it is some sort of ideological effect - and control mechanism - “free speech” gets twisted around to mean censorship of free thinking, if I am being clear.

  (Comment by profacero at http://womensspace.wordpress.com/2006/11/24/trolls-and-anti-feminists/)

  [Ed. note: From Heart’s blog, aaahhhh!!!]

August 2, 2007

• http://saraspeaking.wordpress.com/2007/07/07/what-kind-of-friend-are-you/
  

  Since the gist of the thread is about whether a statement has to intend to be sexist in order to actually be sexist, we have the following quote:

  Assuming that there were no hard feelings intended from the offender how do you make the offender aware of what he has just said? Who wins when it’s largely a difference of opinion?

  “who wins?” That’s your problem right there. This isn’t about winning or losing. This is about you having said something that offends/hurts someone else, and whether you’re going to continue offending/hurting them by arguing about the offense, or whether you’re going to apologise and attempt to make amends. In short, whether you’re going to be hostile or friendly.

  Frankly, I don’t think you’re a very good friend at all if you’re going to take the former route. Denise has a good analogy:

  Say you’re sitting at a table with several friends. You stretch, and unintentionally hit the person next to you in the face, hard. Is the correct response to berate the person who has been hurt for leaning forward, or is it to apologize and keep greater awareness of your surroundings? Nic’s response has been telling the person who has been hit to stop being so sensistive and continuing on in ignorance. Intent is a part of what matters. Your friend would likely find the anger at being struck easier to let go of once he or she knew it was an accident. BUT that the injury was unintended does not make the injury go away. A failure to apologize and an insisitence that you are in the right when you injure people because you’re not paying attention makes you look like a jackass.

  Exactly. Not meaning to do something doesn’t undo the fact that it has been done. I didn’t mean to overdraft my bank account, but that sure as hell doesn’t change the fact that I’m a couple hundred dollars in the hole. I didn’t mean to hurt my friend’s feelings, but that doesn’t change the fact that she is, in fact, hurt. And I can either argue — oh, oops, I mean “have a difference of opinion” with her as to the state of her feelings and the justification thereof. Or I can be a friend, apologise, and kiss and make up.

Some of these links might not work anymore. I haven’t checked. Now I can clear out that label, though!

I don’t subscribe to Shakesville (or any other “big” blog, because I can’t handle the pressure of a constantly overflowing RSS reader), so I’m just now seeing this, even though it’s over a month old. It’s well worth reposting, though. Hence:

Feminism is an integral part of progressivism.

If you’re not a feminist, you’re not a progressive.

No matter how much you hate Bush.

No matter how much you hate the Iraq war.

No matter how much you hate our current torture policy.

No matter how much you want to restore habeas corpus.

No matter how much you’re totally going to vote for the Democrat in November.

If you’re not a feminist, you’re not a progressive.

You’re a fauxgressive.

End of story.

Hell yeah.

And I hate that this is even something that has to be said, but it does, and there it is. It’s part of why I have such disdain/disinterest/reluctance/irritability surrounding partisan-type politics… I just can’t get worked up about debates, or so-and-so’s campaign signs, or all the other gossip. Frankly I don’t understand how so many people can, but since a lot of ‘em are people I consider friends, I just have to shrug my shoulders and say “To each their own.” (And yet if there’s an election returns watching party in November, I’ll be there; because, I’ll be honest, to me it’s all an excuse to socialize. And it’s not that I don’t care on any level. I vote, after all.)

But if you dismiss feminism as a “special interest” (hello, Kos!), all bets are off, and it’s “fuck you” time. You are on notice, or perhaps even dead to me.

I mean believe it or not, Melissa even had to post an update, because apparently (and I wish I could say I was surprised) a lot of people had trouble getting this rather simple concept through their thick skulls. If she had a FAIL stamp, I bet the inkpad would be dry by now.

You see? This is why I just do not have the patience to be some kind of Bringer of the Progressive Message, unless it’s on a one-on-one or very small group basis.

I don’t overuse the “pin” feature in Bloglines Beta; I use it strictly to keep track of stuff I want to read later, re-read in while paying closer attention, or blog about. So whenever I have more than 3 or 4 pinned items, I start to get antsy.

Currently I have 7, and they’re all posts that I’m brimming with Strong Opinions about, but at this rate I don’t think I’ll have time to write in-depth responses to each of them. So, link round-up cop-out it is!

• Antidepressants don’t work (from Uncool)

  Yes, once again, some Very Important Organization or other has released a results of a study that supposedly proves that anti-depressants are worthless. Hmm, if that’s true, then why are there so many people (myself included) who, whenever this shit happens, stand up and say very loudly that anti-depressants most certainly do work?

  I don’t understand why anti-depressants’ effectiveness needs to be proved or disproved. Tons of people are living proof that they do work. (Sure, we can study how or why - but if? That’s not a question.) I can say with 100% assurance of no hyperbole on my part, that if it weren’t for anti-depressant meds, I would not be alive today.

• Teenagers as Sexual Beings (from Miss Nomered)

  I found this blog a few weeks ago, I think via Ren’s, and reading it makes me feel hopeful about the future and the up-and-coming generation. When I was in high school, blogs didn’t exist, but I did keep a journal (I even kept it on my computer for a while, in SimpleText!) and I wrote about all kinds of stuff. I like to think that if I’d had a blog, it would’ve been similar to this.

  Anyway, the post about teenagers being sexual beings reminded me of my fourth year at TIP. There was a girl in my class who just seemed to exude sexuality. I think she was a year younger than me, which would’ve made her 15. I remember her talking in class one day about being frustrated with how adults don’t want to admit that teenagers are sexual beings and are not children. The rest of us in the class were nodding in agreement.

  I don’t know why adults tend to get so weirded out at the idea of teenagers having sexual feelings. Do they not remember being a teenager themselves? And ya know, admitting that teenagers are sexual beings doesn’t mean you’re saying you want to have sex with them! Get over it!

• Media and a Sex Worker (from After Hours)

  My heart goes out to Amanda, with everything she’s been through lately. And this post, just… well, at the moment I can’t really put my feelings about it into words. But it really struck me, maybe because I feel like I can relate to Amanda after reading a lot of her writing and identifying with some of her experiences and feelings? You should just read it. Here’s an excerpt:

  A definite downside is that I’ve attracted the attention of every shock-jock in the country, it seems. I’m a chance for them to use as many dirty words on the air as possible and a chance to score points off me. Seems women are only fodder for men’s lame sex jokes. I’m done with these shows. No more. ‘Course, it’s actually easier to screen clients than screen radio stations (they tend to be misleading about the nature of their show, of course).

  Or there’s an accusatory tone that would not be there if I were a client. Men get a “wink wink nudge nudge” thing when paid companionship is discussed. Women are branded and I bring out the self-righteous prig in everyone. The only explanation is that there must be something wrong with me. Being female and openly sexual means I’m off my rocker; something to be either pitied or reviled.

  More infuriating, they think they know everything about sex work (escort work in particular) because they believe every stereotype they’ve ever come across. This makes them an “expert.” Which makes me wonder why they bother to have me on. None of my interviewers have yet to actually admit to having experience as a sex worker — only me. Yet apparently I’m not to be believed.

• 5 Tips for Hot Menstrual Sex (from Naked City)

  I’m so glad Dacia wrote about menstrual sex! And I have immense respect for Furry Girl and Trixie for their menstrual sites (well, and for their general awesomeness). This post is informative, sex-positive, body-positive, menstrual-positive… all-around positive! Which is really something, since menstrual sex is typically either not talked about at all, or talked about with “OMG ewwww!!!” histrionics that you would expect maybe out of middle schoolers but certainly not adults, and yet here are adults acting as if getting your period is the most disgusting thing that could ever happen to you. FAIL.

  This post, however, gets the WIN stamp.

• “Please, anyone can do what you do…” (from Renegade Evolution)

  I hate when people act like sex work isn’t real work. Especially when they use snark quotes - “sex work.” Here’s what I said in a comment on Ren’s post:

  I think this whole “anyone can do it” thing is totally reactionary and full of projection. Because the same people who say that are usually the ones who are talking about how awful and degrading it is… so, therefore, NOT anyone can do it, right? It’s a contradiction, which leads me to believe they don’t have an actual argument.

Okay, there are two others I have pinned, but they both deserve longer write-ups… especially Caroline’s post about the new UK porn law. Holy crap.

Via Melissa (I would never read Gawker Media blogs if it weren’t for her!), powerful words from someone called Slut Machine, on Jezebel:

I’m pissed. It’s an anger that’s been on a slow boil that’s beginning to bubble over, and at this point, there’s no putting a lid on it. I’ve been writing about sex on a pretty public platform for some time now, at first anonymously, and then under my real name. I’ve had to endure ignorant assumptions and cheap shots made about my looks, my weight, my vagina, my tits, my sexual health, my mental health, my morality, my character — and all for what? Being honest? For liking sex? I’ve poured my guts out all over my keyboard, and I’m well aware that that invites criticism, particularly on the internet, where people think they can say whatever the fuck they please — in the most offensive manner possible that they would never employ in real life — with impunity because they’re protected behind a shroud of anonymity. It’s frustrating. And lemme tell you, I am so sick of people telling me, “You write about sex and personal issues. You have to accept that people will sling insults.” Fuck. That. Shit. I don’t have to accept it. I refuse to accept it. Mostly because I know that this wouldn’t happen if I were a man.

Rock on, lady! I can relate. (Today’s understatement.)

And yeah, this is related to the last post because it’s yet another manifestation of the sexual double standard and bullshit sexism in our society. (I kind of hate whenever I type “in our society,” because it reminds me of freshman year of college when my friend Kira and I used to hang out in Washington Square Park between classes with this very disaffected emo guy who was in a punk band, and one time Kira and I went to see them play and their music was all screaming commentary, and one song was just repeating “society” and “brutality” over and over, and Kira said, “I can’t listen to songs with the word ’society’ in them.” But really, there’s no other way to put it that I can think of.)

From Chris Hall at Sex in the Public Square (be sure to read the full post). Chris is a wonderful writer.

The real tragedy of [Palfrey’s] death, from where I’m standing, is not anything extraordinary about her story, but how common and familiar it is, to the point of being cliché. If the story of Deborah Jean Palfrey had been laid out in a novel or play or screenplay, I would be angry at having my time wasted by a writer who was unable or unwilling to rise above cheap hackery that was old and worn out in the days of the Victorian penny dreadfuls. But Palfrey was a real person, and it makes me sick and angry to think how often the lives of people who should live peaceful, untroubled lives are forced into old patterns.

When I heard that Palfrey had hung herself, one of the first things that I thought of was the story of Ida Craddock. Craddock was a freethinker and feminist who wrote several sexual education manuals and pamphlets in the late 19th century. She was hounded and pursued for over a decade by the moralists of the day, in particular the infamous Anthony Comstock. In 1902, she was finally convicted for sending obscene materials through the mail and sentenced to five years in prison. Craddock was 45 years old at the time of her conviction and didn’t think that she could survive her sentence; the night before she was supposed to report for incarceration, she slit her wrists. Comstock showed no signs of regretting her suicide; in fact, he commonly bragged that he had driven as many as 15 people to suicide in his crusade for public morality.

One hundred and six years later, I want Ida Craddock’s story to seem quaint and old-fashioned, like an aged relic of less enlightened times. But Deborah Jean Palfrey is dead, hung from the neck by a nylon rope; her former employee, Brandy Britton, went the same way. David Vitter is still in the Senate. So it goes.

In the eye of the media, Palfrey’s death was regarded almost without a blasé fascination, as if the urge for a woman who transgressed to hang herself in her mother’s shed was as natural and unavoidable as birds migrating. And it seems unbelievable that one hundred and six years after Ida Craddock, we have to work so hard to justify not only the course that she chose to make for her life, but that we also have to fight to make others see that her death was a stupid waste, and not the inevitable end to a badly-written melodrama.

What we do, all the blogging and writing and organizing sometimes can seem futile, especially with stories like Palfrey’s. The one thing that we can be grateful for, in a somewhat grim way, is that Palfrey had to do more than merely write about sex before she was hounded and shamed into her grave. That, at least, is something that we’ve accomplished in the one hundred years since Ida Craddock opened her veins with a straight razor. But it’s not enough.

And I’m crying, again.

Yeah, I’ve mentioned before that I can be pretty emotional, and cry at inopportune times. But this week, I think it’s appropriate.

Straight privilege… this is it.

Very moving post up at Shakesville, written by Portly Dyke:

I doubt that most straight, cisgendered people think about, or notice, how frequently they touch their partner in public in ways that are not necessarily “sexual” (in addition to kissing, cuddling, and the odd bum-squeeze) — ie. holding hands, walking with an arm around the waist, smoothing the other’s hair back out of their eyes — nor do I think that most straight, cisgendered people are probably aware of the fact that when I touch my partner in public, it’s nearly always a considered act.

I don’t obsess about this — as in — it doesn’t eat up my days and nights — and I’m probably about as “out” as a queer can be in this country — but every single time I take my partner’s hand on the street, or toss my arm over her shoulder or around her waist, hug her goodbye or hello, I do a little, tiny “security sweep”.

I notice who is around, and where I am, and what the energy feels like — before I touch her in public. It’s a tiny amount of attention, most often, but it’s there.

I just noticed recently that in an unknown situation that seems “sort of” safe, (like walking in a crowded mall) I’m more likely to curl her arm through mine than to hold her hand — which may seem counter-intuitive, since arm-in-arm actually affords much closer body contact — but after I thought about this, I realized that walking “arm-in-arm” is something that I see straight girl-friends do more often than holding hands (after they’re 12, anyway). In considering this choice, I also realized that in many situations, I’m happy to give any possible bigots in an uncertain setting the option of assuming that we’re just a couple of straight girls.

Which sorta sucks.

I recognize this as the internalized homophobia that it is, but I can’t deny that it’s present in me. The fact is, that I stop, look, and listen before I demonstrate physical affection toward my beloved in nearly every public setting that is not clearly “queer safe”.

A must-read.

(Yes, I’m aware I’m speaking in sentence fragments today.)

Later this month, Rusty and I are going to Balticon. Yay! I’m looking forward to seeing Jenny (either at the con or just within Baltimore), hanging out with Regina Lynn, and being on some panels about sex, tech, and other related stuff. One of the panels I’m going to be on is called “Don’t Be That Guy: Advice From the Women of New Media.”

Serendipitously, Ren recently had a “don’t be that guy” open thread on her blog. It’s full of good stuff, including a damn perfect object lesson of someone being that guy. (I like and respect Ernest, but seriously, again with the “I believe in gender equality” line? Please. I wish I had a nickel for every time I’ve heard that!) And then today, I came upon synecdochic’s post entitled Don’t Be That Guy, which is all about being a feminist ally.

Guys, read it and learn, especially if you consider yourself progressive, feminist-identified, not a troglodyte, etc. Here’s an excerpt:

If you consider yourself an ally, and you wind up doing or saying something that gets a really strong negative reaction, and you see one of your friends saying something along the lines of “it’s okay, he’s one of the good guys, it’s not like that”, that should be a warning sign that it’s time to immediately apologize. A real apology, not an “I’m sorry if you were offended” — because that kind of language isn’t an apology at all. You clearly did offend someone, or else the dogpile wouldn’t have happened. “I’m sorry that I offended you, and I’d like to make sure I understand why, so it doesn’t happen again; what I’m getting is that it was such-and-such, and I’m sorry I did that, and if that wasn’t it, I’d like to listen to anything else you have to say…”

If you hear a guy who says “I’m a feminist”, but who behaves in ways that trip women’s creepdar, call him on it. It is a very sad fact that nine times out of ten, people with privilege, who are exercising that privilege in a way that makes other people feel uncomfortable, will not hear the fact that they are making other people uncomfortable until it’s pointed out to them by someone with the same privilege. They literally will not process what people are saying. It happens all the time, and it is so subtle and pervasive that people don’t see it even when someone calls them on it. You can, however, use this for good in terms of pulling another guy aside and saying: dude, you’re being a creep. The sad fact is, that guy is way more likely to listen to you.

Read the whole post, seriously.

It’s like I was saying to Rusty earlier today… one thing that bugs the shit out of me is when guys try to ingratiate themselves with feminists but clearly have no idea what the fuck they’re talking about, and then when someone calls them on sexist/assholish behavior, they get all petulant and sulk away with their tail between their legs, or trot out the old tried-and-true “YOU’RE the sexist one!” trope.

I think I’ll have plenty to talk about at Balticon!

Update: Check out this object lesson, as if on cue!

Apostate and I have had our disagreements, and I imagine we’ll continue to do so. Some of what she’s written (especially wrt sex workers’ rights) has made me downright livid. But I am nodding my head in 100% agreement with this:

It’s very easy to trivialize discriminatory attitudes against women’s sexuality, because who cares about your right to screw around while people are dying!

You know, someone’s always dying. It’s not our job as feminists to make women feel bad for focusing on what matters to them and what makes it harder for them to live in this male-dominated world on a day to day basis. Anti-feminists are doing a terrific job on that without our help.

Black civil rights workers are not going to take a break from their earth-shakingly important work and tell us about sexist condom commercials and sexist media in general. They’re not going to point out all the videos out there that our young women’s male peers make about how screamingly funny rape is. But someone needs to.

We’re well-aware that our concerns always come last. It’s why women are self-conscious about calling themselves feminists. It’s very trivial to worry about your body and your safety while other people are dying. After all, you’re a privileged white woman. And black men get raped in prison too! Who cares what your concerns are, and never mind that you’re still a second class citizen even if higher on the totem pole than the people who are dying.

This is another sneaky technique to put women last. This is yet another way to confuse women about themselves, about their place in the world, about their importance.

To put it another way (via Mint Jelly)…

Unless you’re a female you just don’t get the experience of catcalls and “playful” followers and hard-held stares. How men pretend that suddenly the whole world is small town america, - they’re just saying hi, they’re just being friendly, women like it they say, when they know full well that’s not what they’re doing and that’s why they’re shouting from cars, waiting outside of convenience stores and following you home from the mall. If a man gave them the finger, they wouldn’t say, “oh yeah! is that what you want baby!?”

If I were president (i know, i know) there would be a recipe for immediate corporal punishment: grab throat, throw to ground, beatings until there is sufficient whimpering, vary ingredients and amounts according to need. And one would be allowed to walk with a spark plug in hand, to smash the windows of offending men in vehicles who think that slowing down and pacing you while you walk is cute.

There would be public service messages on television, with rainbow graphics and shiny faces telling you to not be such an idiot all the time.

That’s just how I feel. If my humanity isn’t acknowledged I will have to act like a thing, a monster. Women don’t get credit for the courage they find and the normalcy and humor they apply to it. It takes balls to be a girl, to walk around being a girl.

Couldn’t have said it better.

Note: As I’ve mentioned before, I do dislike the use of “female” as a noun to refer to women; but other than that slight nit-pick, this is brill.

Sex in the Public Square has put out the call for a sex-positive wiki.

One of the things that made this seem like such a good idea to me was the surge of media coverage in the wake of the Spitzer scandal, and especially the Diane Sawyer 20/20 special, which repeatedly seemed to make a deliberate effort to snatch bullshit from the maw of truth.

We really do have an incredible collection of fiercely intelligent, independent people in what can loosely (VERY loosely) be called the sex-positive community. We have everything from dedicated activists working at clubs and agencies to scholars like Elizabeth, and I think that putting all those brains together to build a resource devoted to providing information about the intersections of sex and culture could produce a helluva powerful and valuable site.

The question I usually get when pitching this idea at people is, “What about Wikipedia?” Wikipedia is a great resource. If the rest of the web was as useful as Wikipedia, I’d probably spend the other 10% of my life plugged into the internet as well. The Sexology and Sexuality Project on Wikipedia, among others, deserves praise for their work. But Wikipedia itself isn’t specifically focused on sexuality, and a focus can be invaluable in attaining depth of insight into a topic. Also, Wikipedia is, by definition, open to just about any damn fool with a computer and an attitude. Most of the truly obvious lunatics get combed out by the collective efforts of the saner majority, but in working on volatile subjects like sex work or pornography, there are often polarized factions trying to get their viewpoint into the article. The Talk section of the Wikipedia pornography article has a lot of long arguments over the nature and appropriateness of various approaches to the subject. In short, it takes an effort just to be able to get to the starting line for sex-poz people. One of the benefits of having our own wiki would be that we’re already at a comfortable starting point, where we can begin with the assumption, for instance, that sex work can be a legitimate occupation. Then from that point, we can move on to our our own internecine battles. We don’t have to waste time explaining why prostitution and trafficking aren’t necessarily the same thing.

(emphasis mine)

Read more here.

It is definitely time for this. Please contact Elizabeth and Chris if you would like to get involved! The more people/ideas/perspectives/knowledge, the better!

In addition to all its other benefits, think this is a wonderful opportunity to foster more of a sense of cohesion among what is and has been a very loosely-defined community.

And I agree that Wikipedia is not the place for this project. Unfortunately until sex-positivity makes more inroads into mainstream society (which is what projects like this can help accomplish!) we really do need a space where we know we won’t be inundated with BS.

Perfect example of male privilege, from a commenter on Jenny’s blog:

I said something about how it’s evident to me that sexism still exists in our society because women get cat-called and belittled and judged on their looks by strangers, and he said…

“Can’t you just yell back at them? There’s nothing stopping you from yelling back at them! You can do it too!”

:|

I cannot tell you how many times I have had a similar exchange with some dude. My reaction has gone from flustered to outraged to nonplussed and now to a feeling I can describe only as, “Would you prefer to be kicked in the pants, or the head? Here, just sign on the dotted line.”

Jenny has written another post that makes me want to do a little happy dance over the fact that she finally has a blog.

An excerpt from Sex, Guys, and Videotape:

Similarly, my experience on the way home last night can be written off as No Big Deal. It’s harmless, right? Silly, right? There’s nothing wrong with being called beautiful, right? Wrong. And, honestly, I do write off situations like this pretty much every day.

Which makes me part of the problem.

I put it to you, dear readers: How does a feminist respond firmly and unequivocally to this type of innate sexism without escalating a situation? When you cannot (and really should not) take the time to explain the inappropriate and harmful nature of these comments, what is a productive response? I’m at a loss.

Rusty and I were talking about this the other day. I can’t remember the specific thing we were talking about… something like a woman being verbally harassed while walking down the street, but it wasn’t that. Whatever it was, it was something asshole-ish, and Rusty said something like, “He turned it into a situation no one should have to experience.”

And I said, “But see, the thing is, women experience shit like that all the time. So much so that, unfortunately, we tend to forget how fucked up it really is.” Or to put it another way: of course it was a situation no one should have to experience. But women experience such situations on a daily basis, and no one (including the women, half the time) bats an eye.

And how fucked up is THAT??

Then I described a blog post I read a while back (too lazy to search for it right now, might do so tomorrow though) written by a guy who didn’t used to consider himself a feminist… you know the type, women have the vote and can get jobs and wear pants, so why do we need feminism anymore, and anyway shouldn’t it be called humanism, because otherwise that’s sexist. But then one day he was talking with a female friend of his and she was complaining about some asshole who’d just cat-called to her or something, and he was OUTRAGED, and was outraged that SHE wasn’t MORE outraged. And she was like, “Um, yeah, it sucks, but that happens to me all the freaking time” and that was when the light bulb went on over his head that, hello, feminism is VERY necessary! (Hello, male privilege… ah, how weird it must be NOT to know that women put up with this shit all the time and to truly believe that feminism’s work is done.)

Do we, as women, sometimes forget that men don’t know all the shit we put up with?

Maybe… but also part of it is, it’s not as easy as just calling them on it all the time, because 1) then we’re responsible for policing other adults’ behavior; 2) we’re humorless hairy-legged bitches if we do; 3) often there is the real threat of violence if we do; 4) we’d never have time to get anything else done.

So, what do we do, indeed? I don’t know. I’ve asked this question many times before and it sucks because I just don’t know.

And until more men have that light bulb go on over their heads, of the bind women are truly in with this stuff, unfortunately I think I’ll have to keep wondering (and trying to flip the switch myself, if possible…).

My good friend Miss Debris Blanche has moved to Wordpress.com, with a new blog name, a new layout - and, I believe, a first post that should win a prize for “best first post.”

In addition to just being hilarious and a great writer, she does a good job of putting into words an approximation of why I love the South:

So, why haven’t I left yet??? I guess b/c, for better or worse, it’s my home. There is a special vein of insanity in the South that can’t be duplicated. The city I live in has a law on the books requiring everyone to own a handgun. And, for some reason, a great number of Southerners enjoy Civil War re-enactment — I guess so they can lose over and over and over again!

On the other hand, we have the best food, (many of) the best writers, and (many of) the best bands/musicians (such as R.E.M., the B-52’s, Ray Charles and James Brown … and the Allman Brothers, if that’s your thing).

This is a very friendly, hospitable place, yet it’s also an incredibly warped and haunted place. Love it or leave it, they say … if the right opportunity arose, I might go. (Though I’d probably come back eventually!) But in the meantime, it makes great copy, and maybe, just maybe, us thinkin’ folk who stay behind can keep fighting the good fight and help drag our homeland into the 21st century. Even if it’s as small a start as being able to buy a 6-pack at Kroger on Sunday.

This is something I’ve found hard to convey to non-Southerners, and so I’ve taken the tack of saying, “If you’re not from the South, you don’t get it.” Now I can just point people to this description!

I’ll bemoan certain aspects of the South from time to time - and believe me, there is plenty worth bemoaning - but whenever I hear someone who isn’t from here talking about the South this and the South that, I can get pretty vitriolic. (Like the friend who started pontificating about “What I don’t like about the South is…” sophomore year at NYU, until I stopped him and asked, “Have you ever been to the South?” Yeah, I think you can figure out what his answer was.) I guess it’s like, if you have siblings, you can make fun of your siblings but nobody else better dare.

One difference between the excerpt above, though, and my feeling on the matter: the opportunity has arisen, and I did leave, and I came back - twice. And I never want to leave again. This is my home, and when I was away, I missed something that I hadn’t even realized I valued. I ran to New York after high school, and really, can you blame me? 18 years in Augusta was rough, to use a wild understatement. And that year and a half at NYU was a wonderful experience that I wouldn’t trade for anything. I wouldn’t know Dacia if it weren’t for that, or a few other friends who, admittedly, I mainly keep in touch with via Facebook these days. I probably would’ve stayed at NYU for the whole four years if money and other life circumstances hadn’t intervened, and I wonder what my life would be like now if I’d done that?

-But anyway, not to get off on a tangent… the time when I really felt a seering homesickness was when I lived in Texas. Granted, I had other really difficult stuff going on at the time, but I don’t think Dallas and I were ever meant for each other. My one consolation, as silly as it might sound now, was sweet tea from the Chick-Fil-A on the other side of Central Expressway. And for as much as I used to hate on Atlanta when I’d never even really been here before, isn’t it hilarious (and ironic?) that this place feels more like home to me than anywhere else ever has.

Can’t say I care for the Allman Brothers, though!

Feministe » Feministe Feedback: Being a Feminist Boyfriend

The discussion here has me thinking about some of the pretty damaging stuff that happened during my marriage, a lot of which I didn’t recognize for what it was until much later. I look back on the times he would “tease” me for, you know, not wanting to live in a filthy house like a damn slob, or accuse me of “nagging”… that stuff was really harmful to me. It makes me so angry, to this day, thinking about how it has affected me.

The “equal partnership” thing is important for the sanity, agency, and self-respect of both partners in a heterosexual relationship. It’s something that takes work, not just lip service. And yet so many guys still fall short, and as women thanks to our socialization, we don’t speak up because god forbid we be perceived as “nags.” Disempowering much?

The Barefoot Bum: Whining and complaining

On a similar note, here’s another word that’s often used to knock down legitimate arguments (especially from women): whining.

The portion I quoted in del.icio.us from the above post sums it up: “What’s the difference between a complaint and a whine? Why is objecting to ‘nappy-headed ho’s’ a legitimate complaint, but objecting to ‘Take out the garbage’ a loser’s whine?”

Boinkology: Sexploitation In Anti-Drug Ads Isn’t Normal… No Wait, It Is.

How fucked up is this ad? There are so many things wrong with it, I hardly know where to begin. I suppose “blaming the victim” would be a reasonable start, though.

Astarte’s Circus: I am a feminist

Octogalore explains why disavowing the label “feminist” is harmful. I agree, and I could ramble on this for days!

But, for now, back to bed with me. I need more Aleve Cold & Sinus. It seems to be helping. (Fingers crossed.) I want to be able to go back to work tomorrow, dammit!

She describes it perfectly…

As smart, sensitive and educated as this good man is, he still has difficulty really understanding the female experience. That’s how insidious misogyny is in our culture; men just can’t see it. And when it’s pointed out, it makes them uncomfortable & defensive. “Hey, not all men say/think/do that… I don’t!”

As if that’s what I am saying when I point out the crap; as if I am blaming him personally.

Then there’s the, “If it’s not everyone, then don’t worry about it,” and the looks that say, “Oh, gawd, there she goes again…” as if I’m “one of those foaming at the mouth feminists” because I won’t just sit there silently and take it.

This is what I was trying to describe to Rusty the other night, about a certain asshole commenter who used to come around my blog all the time until I banned him, and even though he was an intelligent person he would ALWAYS try to find ANY other explanation for an obviously sexist situation than, well, sexism. It’s like, if YOU’RE “not like that,” then why are you so fucking afraid of admitting that YES, sexism exists, and calling it out when it does??

Oh wait, because maybe you are “like that.” That’s the ugly truth.

So frustrating!

Some out-of-towners like Atlanta for waffles, others for peaches… but all like it for sex.

Thanks to Dacia for writing about Sex 2.0 in her latest Hot Movies For Her column, entitled “Perverts and Peaches: Sex 2.0 Brings Internetophiles to Atlanta.”

The internet is for geeks with bad acne and missing limbs. Internet dating is a last ditch effort and can attract stalkers. People who do cybersex don’t have healthy sex lives. The sex industry is using the internet to exploit women.

These are all mildly to majorly ridiculous stereotypes of people who use the internet, stereotypes that will shatter this coming weekend in Atlanta. The first Sex 2.0 conference, primarily organized by blogger and podcaster Amber Rhea, is being held at BDSM community space 1763 in Atlanta on April 12th, and people from all over the United States will be there. The thing they all have in common is their interest in the conference’s subtitle: the intersection of social media, feminism, and sexuality. Hopefully most of them are also interested in hearing me talk, since I’m the keynote speaker and will be delivering a short (but fierce!) talk promptly at 9:15 am.

I talked (by email, of course!) with a few different people who are planning to attend the conference to find out what kind of company I’ll be in. It turns out that the participants are a pretty eclectic group who will be coming from near and far to meet up, share ideas, educate each other and have a little fun.

Full article here.

[Cross-posted on the Sex 2.0 blog]

Figleaf has been sayin’, too.

Anyway, SnowdropExplodes makes an excellent (yet rather common sense) point, re: a discussion about what a “feminist relationship” looks like:

One thing that, as a guy who’s learnt enough skills to be able to contribute properly around the home (cooking/kitchen work especially, also laundry and ironing shirts - not so much tidying and hoovering, despite my best efforts to improve my skills there) - one of the big “red flag” things for me was when a woman observed me contributing in a place where I’m living (it was usually when I was living at my parents’ home) and says within my earshot to my mother (or some other female acquaintance of mine), “I see you’ve got him well house-trained”. Sometimes it’s even been said to my face. It’s a different effect when men say something similar, because they’re just likening me to a woman (since I believe women are equal to men, I don’t have a big issue with that to take personal affront - although I might very well speak up to say that everything I do is manly, because I am a man!) When a woman says it, it not only affirms the patriarchal gender roles, but is also a direct belittling of my choices, and says that I do not deserve respect because of it. Whether she identifies as feminist or not, that’s not going to fly with me as a statement of gender equality or egalitarian living.

Viewing men as needing to be trained, tamed and/or “made acceptable”, almost as if we are animals, is not feminism. It’s gender essentialism and legitimises the “boys will be boys” approach.

Of course, we have learned that “common sense” is not always quite so common.

Seems pretty obvious to me: not expecting each partner in a relationship to do 50% of the work (assuming both are in good health, and related caveats) is, well, pretty damn insulting to that partner. Kind of makes you shake your head at all the MRAs who whine about “ball-busting feminazis” and whatever else they say… they’re not exactly setting a high bar for their own gender, are they?

“You’re doing it wrong.”

I first read this amazing, powerful, inspirational post by Jill Brenneman a few weeks ago, but I rediscovered it this morning while combing through my feed reader.

It’s hard to find a portion to quote, because the it’s imperative that you read it in its entirety. Here is an excerpt, but please, read the whole thing.

But we are fighting for social justice, we are fighting against oppression, we are fighting for human, civil and labor rights for reasons and those are often being missed by the media or the messages are being hijacked by the prohibitionists and their misguided conflagrations and stereotypes. Prohibitionist researchers who were never sex workers and know little about them other than their 2 hour interviews with loaded questions slanted for desired results. I’ve been to the big prohibitionist conferences and the biggest topics tend to be the number of stars of the hotel rating, how disappointing the eggs were at the continental breakfast or that their hotel suites had bad color schemes. I’ve been to their conferences and been given the list of prohibited words, phrases and ideologies that will be stricken from the record if used and/or lead to expulsion from the conference. These are some of the reasons I left that movement in 2002. I’ve never seen that kind of garbage at sex worker rights meetings conferences, events, even if those same events are nothing more than a meeting at an unheated, poorly lit space that some other org is letting us borrow, with no meal service other than what we bring for ourselves, but we are there because we are working on issues, social change and fighting oppression. Not because we are being funded by the USDOJ to stay in Washington DC Hotels after having to suffer the “indignity” of flying in coach because the Government wouldn’t agree to pay first class as some of the suffering prohibitionists did in 2002.

I’ve never known a more passionate, tolerant, empathetic, and authentic group of people than I have met in the sex worker rights movement. There is a great amount of humanity in our movement. Let’s make sure media sees that. Yes I suffered in the sex industry and as a child. But I want to choose my own path, my own career choices, and determine the propriety of my own experiences not have them reframed as some prohibitionist based projects would do for me. We don’t need to be rescued, we need fucking rights and the people who best know this are the sex workers themselves, not the politicians, not the researchers, not the media.