Being Amber Rhea

Via F-Words, I just came across this four-year-old post by Melissa McEwan. OMFG it is made of *WIN*!

Some quotes (and I will resist the urge to quote the entire post)…

Life is hard enough without my unexpectedly smacking people in the face who trust me not to be a jerk, and it’s in that same spirit that I’ve tried to convey how misogynist language is uncool—hey, I don’t want to get blindsided with shit like that from an ostensible ally. When I highlight the use of sexist language at a male-authored blog, it’s because such language is alienating and demeaning and infuriating and I’m operating under the assumption that those bloggers don’t want to alienate, demean, and infuriate their female readers. But that, as it turns out, usually tends to be a faulty assumption.

—

The truth is, if I actually spent my days actively paying attention to every example of misogyny around me, I would be a profoundly unhappy woman. Not bitchy or grumpy or short-tempered, but paralyzingly depressed. Women have to train themselves to avoid consciously reacting to every bit of misogynistic detritus permeating the culture through which we all move, lest they go quite insane. I write about the things I can’t not write about. If I wrote about all the examples of sexism I see every day, I’d never sleep.

—

As long as there are men, who would ostensibly be part of the “humanist” movement, yet retain a visceral and violent reaction to the feminine, there is no foundation for a sexless, “humanist” movement. Generally, those arguing in favor of a “humanist” movement won’t say they’re arguing for men’s inclusion, instead citing what they perceive as the limitations of feminism/womanism—”But what about gay people or people of color or the disabled or the poor or…?” they ask, as if there is something intrinsic to feminism that precludes also fighting other biases. The truth is, if one is genuinely concerned with the betterment of women, one is necessarily concerned with fighting biases against any marginalized group, because, half (give or take) of all such groups are women.

—

Making the personal public and political is serious business. Because women’s stories aren’t told, it’s incumbent upon female feminists to tell their own stories, to fill that void, to be unrepentant and loquacious raconteurs every chance we get, to talk about our bodies, our struggles, our triumphs, our needs, our lives in every aspect. It’s our obligation to create a cacophony with our personal narratives, until there is a constant din that translates into equality, into balance.

I missed it the first time around because I didn’t know about Shakesville (formerly Shakespeare’s Sister) four years ago. It was a brand new blog at the time.

-Actually, now I’m confused. Is that post really four years old? It is dated October 5, 2004 but includes links that are dated in 2006. :\ Oh well, whatever; the point is, the post is awesome and is a must-read.

READ IT.

This is so perfect I can hardly stand it:

I’m tangling hard with this notion of public persona. That for whatever reason, writing about sex gives some people the idea that you are available sexually to them (this is not new, this is something I’ve noticed a long time ago). But this being commonly understood as a consumable girl is hitting a breaking point for me. Does it mean I can’t flirt-for-real in public spaces without being perceived as buying into a role, without agreeing with that being pegged as The Sex Girl?

I was never that girl. I never played against my own intelligence to make men comfortable around me. I come on strong by being open, not teasing. I don’t look for strength in men’s eyes that way. As temporarily delightful as cocktail conversation may be — until our cabs come — I get my real and lasting courage from my own vulnerability. I can only trust my sense of worth to be safe with those unafraid to love me, not someone who finds me amusing five minutes at a time.

It kind of gives me déjà vu because it’s everything I’ve been thinking but, as usual, Melissa puts it into words so much better than I could hope to. (That sounds kind of assholish, doesn’t it? Argh…)

On Twitter I said: “This is what I would’ve talked about at BlogHer ATL” and “I’ll mention this at @blogorlando, too; I won’t have a prepared presentation but it’ll be a ‘talking point.’ We’ll see where *that* goes.”

I HATE it. I hate this stupid, asinine, absurd, insipid idea that if a woman writes about sex then she is The Sex Girl (as Melissa puts it). This pigeon-holing, it’s… well, there just aren’t enough adjectives for “ridiculous” to convey it!

I was never That Girl either - I wouldn’t even know how to be - and this is why, for instance, it makes me absolutely livid to see sex-positivity so COMPLETELY misrepresented by people who obviously have NO FUCKING CLUE what they are talking about. I’m staying out of blog wars with “radfems” for good - it’s just a waste of time - but occasionally I see them quoted on Ren’s blog or Caroline’s blog, prattling on about how “sex-pozzies” (yes, they really say that; can you believe it?) are all about pleasing men and the men love us because we do what they want and blah blah blah and I’m like, okay, this is the part where it is GLARINGLY obvious that you have absolutely NO GRASP of my life, my experience, my reality, and holy hell could your head possibly be FURTHER up your ass? I mean it’s kind of funny in a way, but it still just infuriates me. I cannot even convey to you how totally absurd it is.

Oh, and as for people assuming that because you write about sex, you obviously want to have sex WITH THEM - well, that’s nothing new, either. It’s as old as the hills and it, too, is a jaw-droppingly ridiculous depth of stupidity.

And, too, let’s revisit this.

melissa:

rkb:

You lose a lot by not being anonymous, and maybe the only thing you gain is the freedom from worrying about being outed. I’m with Melissa in that I’m not sure what Emily wrote is something I necessarily want to avoid. I’m still figuring all this out, and probably always will be. I don’t know that you can ever fully manage your online persona (or offline), because at the end of the day, whether you say everything or nothing or opt for somewhere in between, there will always be haters, there will always be misinterpretations, there will always be someone who’s uncomfortable with what you’ve said.

Also with Rachel here: I want to talk less about “oversharing” and more about the gutter. “Oversharing” has jumped the theoretical shark. In academia, we’d say the term and the way its deployed is overdetermined, but this is the Internet, and so, sharks it is. Chomp. We need better tools to take this thing apart. Using “oversharing” as our analytic lens is like using Gawker commenters to issue a Human Rights Declaration. And what I mean by the “gutter” is what Scott McCloud nailed in Understanding Comics — that we have been trained as readers to fill in the gaps between images (read also: blog posts, Twitter updates, News Feed items). This is where we as readers/users engage a text as authors (little “a,” Barthes bear with me). This is where the people formerly known as the audience get a front seat in our own lives, as writers, producers, creatives, insert overplayed word you’re too scared to apply to yourself and your work here. Plus all the connotations of the gutter are perfect for what we’re really pointing at here: body/bawdy talk, cum and tears, love and loss. Look at the examples Susan and Viviane pulled for their talk: girl, sex, blog.

Words of wisdom from Caroline:

Thirteen years ago, a firefighter referred to Tyra as an “it”. A month ago, Angie’s killer referred to her also as an “it”. Both young women (in the case of Angie very young, only 18) lay dying in front of those people that uttered those words. There is so much further to go. It is crucial for cis people to be educated and clued up about these issues to end the ignorance and the fear and hatred that can spawn from that. The deaths of these women and the violence other transwomen face at the hands of cis people must be acknowledged and not swept under the carpet.

Words of wisdom, from another twenty-something feminist with a degree in linguistics and an eye for bullshit (whose blog I discovered yesterday):

The language we use to talk about sex work (and the metaphorical extensions of sex-work related words) emphasizes this point - by charging a fee to have sex with someone, a woman has sold her body and herself. Linguistically speaking, there’s a metonymy there - the “part” (sexuality) has come to substitute for the whole woman.

That’s objectification, and it’s objectification in the narrow, limited, sex-specific sense of the word - the definition of a woman’s self has been reduced to her sexuality, her value has become inextricably attached to her sex. On the other hand, it’s perfectly acceptable - laudable, even - for me to charge for the use of my brain, or for me to be “valued” for my intelligence. That wouldn’t be considered being “used”, it wouldn’t be thought of as “selling myself”. Paradoxically, that’s like saying that my brain is less valuable, less connected to what I am as a person - it can be partitioned off, the use of it essentially “rented” by my employers, and I can joyfully and proudly accept payment for it while I continue to use my brain outside of the workplace to also attract potentially desirable mates. “Selling” my brain doesn’t take anything from me, doesn’t make me less whole, doesn’t make me damaged goods, and yet somehow, selling my body in a sexual manner (because, of course, if I were selling the use of my body for work in a factory, we again would not be having this conversation) would. If my sexuality is not the sum total of my humanity, if it is not even the primary source of my “value”, then this attitude towards sex work is nonsensical.

Read the whole post.

From the Good Vibrations blog:

Book burning is wrong and much of the time I feel like that’s what our culture does with written works that confront our anxieties and inadequacies as a society. If folks just read or listened to the words written on the pages they feel so desperately need to be destroyed, they might not feel such a desperate angst towards them in the first place. Catch 22, huh?

But seriously folks, I just peaked at CJ’s post on the Sex Worker’s Art Show and it really upset me. People can be very ignorant, which in and of itself is not wrong, but when people refuse to own that ignorance and then crusade it against others they don’t understand, we end up with epic tragedies like the Witch Trials, the Jim Crow laws, the Holocaust, and the Christian Right. Are those results worth saving our children from a little diversity?

So at last, your sex tip of the day… Speak up. Whenever you get the chance, talk to people about sex politics, sexuality, and sex-positivity. Attend art shows, performances, lectures, and films that promote open dialogue about sexuality. Support politicians who seek to decriminalize the sex industry. Watch porn, read erotica. Have sex, and talk to someone about it. Support your local sex shop and demand higher standards.

Doing just one or two of these things during your lifetime will help make this world a better one for your children, trust me. The more comfortable, open, and safe people feel about sex, the less danger there will be for you or your children to come up against in this world.

Annie Oakley really did handle herself with amazing grace on Fox News. Btw, the Midwest Teen Sex Show people will be on Fox tomorrow. Kudos to them for being way braver than I would be.

Ren has yet another spot-on post, from which I will quote at length, because it is very appropriate given that Monday is the 5th annual International Day to End Violence Against Sex Workers. (You ATL folks will be at Charis at 7:00 that night, right?)

And god, goddess and all the happy other deities, we can’t have that. We can’t have sex work being a profession. We can’t have sex workers being seen as workers, with rights and legal protections and safer working conditions and representation and recourse. We can’t have them having unions and power and voices. We can’t have them being human. FFS, they sell their bodies, those dirty, dirty whores! We can’t have them being treated with the same humanity and legal status as a steelworker or a miner or a factory worker on an assembly line. Giving their “jobs” any legitimacy, well, that will just cause so many people to rush right into their sleazy trade, just like people are lining up to be steelworkers, ect. Yes, we can say how awful when they are raped, or murdered, or harassed, or beat up, but actually work to give them legal rights, legal recourse, and legal status possessed by so many other humans? Well now, no, we can’t do that. We can’t have them being normalized or anything like that…

You say no woman, no person deserves to be treated like “…..”, but when you say no to sex workers rights, you enable it.

And my precious little deities, what about the men? Giving sex workers these things will just tell the men that they have the right to buy sex! We can’t have them thinking that, even if the woman, or man, or transperson, is selling it willingly! So no, we can’t let sex workers have these things. Bad for the cause you know.

Bad for the cause and our great future one day world. Damn the sex workers in the here and now. After all, to make an omelet, you need to splatter a few eggs. And it’s not like they’re contributing anything worthwhile to society anyway.

So, Robert Jensen has a new book out, called Getting Off: Pornography and the End of Masculinity. If you’ve been paying attention to this sort of thing, you already know my feelings about Mr. Jensen. But now, with the release of his book, plenty of people who call themselves progressive or liberal are falling all over themselves to praise him. And it makes me sick.

I don’t know if I want to read the book or not. On the one hand, I feel like I should, because of the “understand your enemies” thing (which is why I suffered through Female Chauvinist Pigs and Pornified), and also because I think if you talk about a book without having read it, you’re talking out of your ass (this was one of my main gripes about the Full Frontal Feminism fallout).

On the other hand, I don’t know how much head-desking I can take. I’ve read enough of his articles to know what Jensen’s M.O. is. And would a fisking of his book really accomplish anything? If it would, then I might be convinced to read it. But also, Chris Hall has already posted an excellent, thorough review at Sex In the Public Square. Here are a few key excerpts:

I can go on for hours and hours about what irredeemable psychic flotsam the great mass of porn is, and could probably fill several volumes thicker than Jensen’s on the mediocrity, body fascism, poor production values, labor abuses and sexism that dominate mainstream porn. These are all things that people of good conscience should find troubling about porn as it exists today. And yet, even as I calculate all the sins of pornography to the nth degree, and catalog the ways that I find it disappointing and trivial in taxonomies so detailed that the Library of Congress would have to invent a whole new indexing system, there’s something else: I think that in porn lies our salvation. For those of us who hate the ugly gordian knot of fear and loathing that our society ties our sexualities into, porn is essential. We need a genre of literature and art devoted to sexual arousal just as much as we need those that make us laugh, cry, or cringe in fear. And at the same time, we need to develop a critical language that we can use to think and speak about pornography. Without these things, we’ve resigned ourselves to remaining forever mute about our sexual desires.

[...]

By using this thin sliver of pornography to talk about the whole, Robert Jensen has eliminated alternative genders and sexualities entirely. He doesn’t have to wonder what it means to have a transgendered man like Buck Angel making a good living billing himself as a “man with a pussy.” Dykes who make porn for other women, like the Cyber-Dyke network, are not even acknowledged. There is not even a whisper of the thousands of web pages and videos and magazines that focus on women dominating men, or cock-and-ball torture, or any other of a million practices. These sexualities do not even exist in Robert Jensen’s cosmology; he has written them out of existence as neatly as a respectable family who resolutely doesn’t speak the name of the cousin living as a “confirmed bachelor.” But all of these identities and practices come with legal and social consequences. To simply discard so many lives in a book that claims to honestly explore the nature of desire in our society is not only intellectually dishonest, but hateful.

[...]

Robert Jensen’s passion is reserved for visualizing women’s sexual pain. Never once does he turn that passion the other direction to look at the possibilities for women’s sexual pleasure. There is not, in the end, so much difference between Jensen and the most misogynist, exploitative porn director; neither can imagine the sexual role of men as being anything other than to fuck, nor can they imagine women’s roles as being anything other than to be fucked. And that’s why, regardless of my doubts about mainstream porn, I can never, never imagine aligning myself with Jensen and his ilk. Because at the heart of his arguments, I see the same misogynist bullshit that I want to excise from pornography.

[...]

One of the things that keeps misogyny a thriving monster in our society is sexual shame and guilt. Violence against women and gays comes not from people who are comfortable being open about their desires, but by those who feel that their desires are somehow wrong. People have a limited capacity for accusing themselves. There are only so many times that a man will look at women and feel guilty about his lust before those thoughts whip around like a serpent devouring its tail. Then, the problem isn’t him. It’s that bitch in the short skirt, the whore who’s tempting him and who deserves whatever she gets. And then, we know the rest of the story. We’ve heard it too many times to forget. November 19 was the Transgender Day of Remembrance, and December 17 will be 5th Annual International Day to End Violence Against Sex Workers precisely because we know how the story of people driven by sexual self-hatred turned inside-out ends.

So what do you think? Should I bother reading this book and posting a review?

…from a commenter at the Pro-Porn Activism Blog. This was in response to the ubiquitous but ridiculous (it rhymes!) platitude, “Porn is a threat to relationships.”

It’s a threat to the relationships that base themselves on the idea of sexuality being taboo. Many religions push this view because they use [it] to invoke shame, and through shame they have control.

As long as sex is something dirty that should be locked away in the bedroom, relationships will remain entwined with shame.

Well said.

Btw, did I mention that I’m loving the Pro-Porn Activism blog? I feel very inspired.

How did I not see this post earlier? Oh, probably because I don’t often read Pandagon, since in general I don’t like that blog due to some shit that went down mostly last summer, and… well, never mind. I came across this post today and I’m glad I did. Filed under “reference.” Would’ve shown up in daily del.icio.us posting but that was broken again due to a 500 server not found error. :P Guess my blog was down for a while this afternoon.

Anyhow…

Let’s assume just for the sake of argument that you’re right. You aren’t. But just as a gedankenexperiment, let’s pretend you are, and that the women who are talking about the massive deadweight silence from men about the harassment they experience, and who are getting all upset and speaking in terms of “war zones” and “hate crimes” and such are just being emotional, hysterical even, and — like the people who forward that bogus email about the guy with the ropes and duct tape in his trunk in the mall parking lot — just need to be set straight with a calm, measured dose of logic and fact-checking.

In most situations, that’s a fine impulse. There really is no reason to get upset about LSD in blue star tattoos, and Bill Gates really isn’t paying people who forward a chain email.

But this situation is qualitatively different. When the topic at hand is men not taking an issue seriously, suggesting that the issue might not really be all that serious is not being dispassionate. It is, in fact, taking a side. And the people on the side you’re taking, incidentally, include the gropers, the rapists, the sexual-favor-demanding bosses.

In short, if you’re interested in quibbling with the data or suggesting alternate interpretations of what Kos really meant when he called Kathy Sierra a lying “crying blogger,” and your goal is not to be a flaming asshole, shut the fuck up.

It took serious restraint not to quote the entire post. So go read it. Seriously.

Molly Holzschlag posted an excerpt from Marianne Willamson. It’s very timely that she posts this, because just a few days ago I was thinking of this passage and trying to locate it. I couldn’t remember who it was by, but I remembered that Belledame had posted it a few times. I wasn’t able to find it, though. And now, how serendipitous! So I figure I’ll repost it here, for reference and inspiration.

Our greatest fear is not that we are inadequate,
but that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us.

We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant,
gorgeous, handsome, talented and fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.

Your playing small does not serve the world.
There is nothing enlightened about shrinking
so that other people won’t feel insecure around you.

We were born to make manifest the glory of God within us.
It is not just in some; it is in everyone.
And, as we let our own light shine,
we consciously give other people permission to do the same.

As we are liberated from our fear,
our presence automatically liberates others.

Interestingly, I seem to remember “child of God” being “child of the universe.” Which I guess just goes to show that Marianne Willamson, like me, doesn’t insist you hang your hat on the Judeo-Christian idea of God in order to be fully self-actualized.

I think I need to remind myself of these words on a daily basis. I really do.

My bloggy friends are smart. Here’s what Belledame said on an interesting thread at (soon to be renamed?) I Shame the Matriarchy. -Er, actually, backing up… first, here’s what a commenter called “Trespassers W” said:

Maye some photos look less harmful than others but for me what it really boils down to is whether the woman had any choice about being in porn, and the disturbing fact that so many men despise her for being in it.

And Belledame responds:

See, but my concern is: how does this get any better by continuing to stigmatize porn & sex work. If it’s such an awful awful thing, -categorically,- no matter -what- any given woman says, i.e. she -can’t- like it, then, how does this encourage people to -stop- seeing the women who still are in it as “degraded.”

i mean, to me the desire to believe that the woman -isn’t- enjoying it is truly fucked up; but that is a legacy of our Puritan heritage. and is, i believe, actually in the minority, albeit no doubt a substantial one.

but a lot of men, even in my limited contact with hetpron and its enthusiasts, they -like- the fantasy that the woman -is- enjoying it. That’s -why- they’re watching it. “Oh, you’re so hot. Oh, I love it when you do this to me. Oh, I love your male body bits and everything that comes from them; it’s not disgusting or icky, it TURNS ME ON.”

Now, one can certainly make a case that the insistence that a woman -must- like thus and so because say-hey! i saw it on the Internets/in a movie onc’t! is deeply problematic, and, yup, objectifying, yadda.

but. the problem -there- istm is the dogged insistence of the man in question in

1) not being able or willing to distinguish fantasy from reality

2) not being able or willing to hear what he doesn’t want to hear. i.e. “no.”

THAT is a MAJOR problem; that attitude may be reflected in any number of pr0n flicks, sure, and a man watching such flicks may well use it, along with the acts viewed therein, as justification for whatever he’s demanding;

however, the ROOT problem is STILL -not- that movie; it is the guy’s -entitlement-, it is what he has been taught by a lifetime of parental and societal messages -across the boards- that getting what he wants from a woman is his right and proper due (even or especially if he’s not entitled to much else, he should “at least” get -that,- goddamit) it is his lack of empathy, it is his, well? generally being an asshole.

and, i really don’t see how focusing on the porn, porn, PORN really helps to address that problem. and while I get the concerns about exploitation as well as sexist imagery, once again, my concern is that relentless focus on the porn itself aids and abets the reactionary forces who would be all too happy to ban the pr0n and still be even -more- repressive, sexist, teaching of male entitlement, etc., than even the current climate. And, once again, doesn’t really address the heart of the problem, either personal or political.

*standing ovation*

See? Smart.

I continued to be mystified at how it’s possible for people not to grasp this, especially when it’s spelled out so eloquently.

I learned many years ago that having a holier-than-thou* attitude is a reflection of ignorance at best, and a failure to comprehend that the entire world does not revolve around oneself at worst. I learned this because of certain situations that made me catch myself at it, realize my own ignorance, and have an “oh shit, what am I doing?” moment. Humbling, and important.

It is for this reason that I feel thoroughly confident in saying (for example), “Fuck you and your judgement. You don’t know everything there is to know about me, so don’t go drawing all kinds of dumbass conclusions based on the minute sliver of my life that you see.”

Anyway, I could relate to what Always Aroused Girl wrote yesterday - not because I have a child who receives government assistance, but because I’ve felt that judgemental eye on me countless times, in a variety of situations.

One of these days I’ve got to find a way to say some of the things that need to be said, that should be said. These words that I’m too scared to say, they are boiling over. They need to be set free. Perhaps not to sanctimonious twits in the grocery, but to others more deserving of the truth.

So, from me, AAG, and anyone else who would like to join in, we’ll scream it right here: to all the sanctimonous twits out there, here’s a big fuck you!

* Ha, as if this damn heathen could ever be construed as being “holy” in any way, shape, or form. Hell, it was just last week that I gave head in a church parking lot as people streamed in the door to Wednesday night Bible study.

Patrick says: “Create a horse race, get a winner.” So that’s what I intend to do, social decorum and self-respect be damned.* Let’s get it started! Post time is NOW. I’m driving, and I wanna see ‘em all out! [your guide to the terminology used herein]

* Disclaimer: this may or may not actually happen. As you can see, this was written at a very late hour, and probably not in the clearest state of mind.