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Lady K's Big Fat Feminism Talk Part 3

Kishiria
I was about to write that what 2015 feminist have to do is "grow up", but the adults they know have too often not let them do that. In a world where playgrounds no longer have sharp edges and parents helicopter over their offspring in order that no negative experience ever plague them, growing up has become something that doesn't happen with age.

They would do well by realizing that the world is a harsh and dangerous place. Like any wilderness, it's full of peril and beauty. It is not safe. Fullstop.

Every girl should be taught to throw a punch and use a weapon. Adults of both sexes should strive towards a world where needing to use those tools is rarely necessary, but since the world is not and never will be safe, they need to know.

2015 feminists need to understand that they have to close the Tumblr app, leave their houses, and participate in society. They need to set actual goals for feminism. They need to set actual goals for themselves. Once they've set the goals, they have to realize the work will be hard. People WILL call them mean names. The answer isn't to cry on the internet about how oppressed you are, but to see yourself as a bulldozer smashing through the obstacles thrown in front of you. You are not a baby, you are an adult. Act like it! 2015 feminists have resources at their disposal that generations of women have not had. Take advantage! Resist! Fight! Break! We laid the groundwork for you, and the laws you need to back yourself are now in place. Use them.

In closing, I'll quote Margaret Atwood again: "Refuse to be a victim. And that is ultimately what it comes down to.

Lady K's Big Fat Feminism Talk Part 2

Kishiria
Now, more than ever, rule 2 is being ignored. No one is responsible for anything. This is a societal problem and it's infested feminism in a terrible way. Rule 1 is still true; men are afraid of women laughing at them, and women are afraid men will kill them. Men are still killing women. About a year ago, a boy stabbed a girl to death because she wouldn't go to prom with him. He knew she wasn't interested, he knew she had a boyfriend. He killed her in a pure example of Rule 1. Women are penalized for defending themselves, and when men are penalized for raping or killing women, often they are seen as the victims, not the women who suffered the harm themselves.

Feminism is good for men. It points out that patriarchy (a word you seldom hear me use, but it's operative here) forces men into roles they may not want either. A boy who likes the arts and expresses his feelings is no less masculine than the football player. An adult man should be able to cry over loss. Patriarchy tells them they shouldn't, so men should be able to claim feminism as a movement for themselves, too.

That would also address Rule 1. The more men teach their sons that they are not entitled to women's bodies, the healthier society will be. The more boys learn that they have the right to the toys and games they like, the hobbies they like, and the clothing they like, the healthier they will be.

Unfortunately, young feminists have become a bunch of spoiled babies who ignore Rule 2. What has caused this is an essay unto itself. I saw this starting to happen in the mid-90s, and it's borne fruit now.

20-something feminists have all too often become "Tumblr feminists" whose interest is in getting what they want, without working towards it, or prioritizing anything. I summarize it in the sentence, "2010s feminists are afraid someone will call them a name." When someone does call them a name, they run to Mommy and Daddy, and the role of Mommy and Daddy is played by Government.

For decades I have been saying over and over that if you are a woman, government is NOT your friend. Don't engage with it! Instead, governments, particularly those in universities where young men and women are often on their own for the very first time, are invoked as parents. Personal responsibility is in the trash bin. Did a young woman regret having sex with that young man? Cry rape! Did she not get into the university she wanted? Cry racism! Does she not receive the pay she wants after going to university? Cry oppression! But under no circumstances, NONE, should she ever consider that she's a grown woman with agency who perhaps shouldn't have slept with that guy, or studied a semester at another school in order to get into the university she prefers, or not taken that liberal arts degree and taken a science or trade instead.

(That last example is my personal glass house and I'll throw rocks in it if I want to.)

Recently, Rolling Stone ran an article about a brutal rape at University of Virginia that apparently never took place. When the woman who claimed to be the victim was confronted, she blamed a man who did not know her, her friends, and the university. Take responsibility for her own words? Under no circumstances. Realize she got an uninvolved person in trouble with his reputation? Not her problem. This kind of thing has to end.

On the other hand, we have the Steubenville rapists, with whom CNN sympathized, lamenting that these poor young men are having their futures taken away from them. Far be it from these boys to take responsibility for what they did. When you consider that they were enabled by adults who had responsibility for them, the situation becomes even worse.

This is the paradox of 2015 feminism. We are still being attacked by men, and men are still being covered for. In response, young women "reclaim" the word slut, invent or exaggerate attacks on them, and look to governments to make laws about their grievances. The laws exist, actually. Nothing new needs creating. What 2015 feminists need to do is woman up and start acting responsible for themselves. (to be continued...oh yes.)

Lady K's Big Fat Feminism Talk

Kishiria
This has been long in coming. My feminism comes from two concepts:

1. Margaret Atwood wrote in the 70s, and it's still true today, "Men are afraid women will laugh at them. Women are afraid men will kill them." This shouldn't still be true 40 years later.

2. You, yes YOU, are responsible for yourself. Man, woman, trans, intersex, it doesn't matter. YOU are responsible for yourself. If you are an adult, you may be responsible for more than yourself. You may be responsible for your kids, your subordinates and in some cases, the youngsters you encounter on the internet.

In the 70s, feminism was radical because there was a lot to be radical about. Ads from the 50s and 60s cheerfully show narrow gender roles, and situations where women are turned into objects for laughs. Women fought for the radical concept that women are people. People deserve equal pay for equal work, the right to have children or not, the right to own property. And you know what? Women won. The big steps were made, so there was only some small cleanup of the vestiges to do, right?

In the 80s, that's what happened. We became aware of the vestiges and worked on them, largely in media presentation. The idea that gender roles weren't helpful to men or women started to raise its head.

In the 90s, feminism turned to re-examining sexuality. Now that preventing pregnancy or having a pregnancy without the traditional family structure was possible, the idea of female pleasure and sexuality without men became huge. Feminists started talking positively about pornography, S/M, and new forms of family, looking back to the 70s for ideas.

Now it's the 21st century and what the hell happened to my movement?

Self-Explanatory

Toast
Leonard_Nimoy_by_Gage_Skidmore

From Mr. Spock to the host of "In Search Of" to a photographer who lovingly captured images of fat women, a poet, an actor, and a mystic. Thank you for being part of my horizon. Rest in poetry.

Weather changes

astrology, sun
The sky was somewhat overcast and the wind was cold. This was a perfect recipe for depression, which sank in as usual. That being said, I still managed to achieve my goals for the day.

I took the basil plant Steve had bought and put in the kitchen windowsill and planted it out front. I watered it with Miracle Gro and a couple of hours later it looked perkier than it had previously.

We had a little potato that had sprouted, so I planted that in the tomato box where my tomato plants had been doing so well until the two nights of freezing temperatures. I noticed that one of the plants was green at the base so I took off the brown branches and am hoping it will resurrect for the second time.

I picked up a lot of bottles and aluminum cans and put them in a bag to take to California with me in two weeks for recycling.

Steve and I made a trip out to get some pizza. On the way I stopped at Michael's craft supply, a store I do not enjoy at all, so I could get some elastic cord for my meta-journal and something to hold a book open while I type from it. I also found a package of paintbrushes for $7.99. Since I need a new fine-detail brush I picked that up.

We watched the WWE pay per view and it was meh. They should go back to having them every other month, or even quarterly as they did in the 90s.

I'll take extra Paxil tonight and hopefully I won't wake up hating life, because I really have no reason to do so.

Gone to church

Virgin of Ocotlan
Yesterday, February 20, was the first anniversary of my abuela's death. I felt that she would want me to go to Mass. I wasn't comfortable with the idea, but there have been times when I have been hesitant to do something or go somewhere and it's been worth it in the end. My specific fear was that Catholicism is kind of like heroin to me.

So I went to St. Augustine Cathedral at lunch. St Augustine's is a Spanish-style church with traditional architecture. Walking in, it felt as if nothing had changed since I left, although the responses and part of the Consecration have been altered to make them closer to the Latin. Since I've been reading a lot about Judaism, the first reading from Isaiah, about true fasting, didn't point towards the New Testament to me, nor did Psalm 51. The reading did reflect the Jewish origins of Christianity, though.

All in all, it felt like "going home again" but finding that home wasn't home anymore. I didn't leave feeling like my homesickness for it would be a problem.

It probably didn't help that yesterday was dark and overcast, although it didn't rain. Today was sunny, but I had errands before I went to Games Workshop to paint figures again. Jon the manager wasn't there; it was his birthday so he left the store to his part-time guy. Some kids did come in with parents to check it out, and had fun playing little ten-minute games, which was fun to see.

Back at home, Steve made Greek grilled chicken over rice. I ate about half of my dinner and the rest can be my lunch Monday, when it has some feta added to it.

Clamshell et al

Mei-Mei and me
I keep buying power cords for my blue Mac clamshell laptop, and they keep breaking. I finally bought an off brand one for a whopping $12. Both it and the computer work just fine. I have no idea what to do with it, so I'll be putting it on Craigslist. It does go on the internet, but it has no Wifi. From what I can tell, there are people out there who would be happy to buy it, though.

I discovered that the gym a block from work is nearly empty at lunchtime. I didn't expect that, so for the past couple of days I've been going there for a half hour cardio workout. I'm gathering everything I need so I can take a fast shower there and head back to work. It's much easier for me to do a half hour workout Monday-Friday than to go for a longer workout after work. Mainly because at 4:30 I just want to go home. Tomorrow will be the fourth day of me doing lunchtime workouts. I might change this when it gets OMG hot, but I'm taking this day by day.

Weekend plan: Plant potatoes and herbs. Steve has been sick with a crud going around that keeps a person down for the count for weeks. He can't garden, but I really love it and want to.

Tomorrow will be the first anniversary of my abuela's death. I want to go to Mass because I think she would like that, but on the other hand, that might be like giving an alcoholic a drink. Catholicism is my heroin. I don't want to be craving that needle.

materialism

astrology, sun
In the past week, I've purchased the miniatures to make the Brothers Hematic, a power cord for my clamshell Powerbook G3, and ordered these sneakers:

Ivory African Jogger



Granted, I got a 10% off coupon for the shoes, and I actually do need a new pair of gym shoes. These are actually cheaper than many. But still, I feel guilty, even though I need them, can afford them, and they support African small business. Plus I'm adhering to my "one in, one out" rule. In fact, two pairs of shoes will be going out in exchange for this one. Why, then, do I feel guilty?

Ready to go back to work!

God Emperor
Usually I'm bummed out at the idea of going to work after a three day weekend, but not this time. I know I have things to do lined up, and the past three days have been lazy and restful although I did get things done.

Steve and I were married on a Friday the 13th, and Saturday was Valentine's Day, so we went to a place we frequent called Vero Amore here in Marana. They don't do reservations, they do a "call ahead". We tried doing that, but no one answered the phone. We told them this when we arrived, and they put us right at the top of the list in order to make things right. We were very happy about that. Steve ordered cioppino and I ordered a chicken sausage pizza. The owner has a certificate saying he's qualified to make Napolitan-style pizzas, and while I cannot swear that they are authentic, having not been to Naples, they are some of the best pizzas I've ever had. We walked out happy enough, went to Fry's (grocery chain here) and acted like a pair of fools, then home again where I kept watching "Arrow".

Saturday was the comic convention I wrote about already. Yesterday and today, we just did stuff around the house. Steve does not have valley fever, but he's still not well, so he sleeps a lot. I organized our tax documents so they can be scanned and sent to our accountant. Today I worked a little bit on my next Warhammer 40k squad. Steve and I tried watching the AMC show "Better Call Saul" but didn't like it and gave up.

Steve wanted to go see another show by the local wrestling league we saw a few weeks ago but I said no, he had to rest.

When I was working on the Brothers Hematic, I did it out in the enclosed porch. I always let the cats out with me when I do this, so if you've seen pictures of Miss Lalat up high above the door, that's what it's from. The cats usually just ignore me, although Bucky came along to check out what I was doing a few times. He really is a fun little love.

An actual Comic Convention

tattoo
I had planned to go to Comix It Up, an event down at Maker House that was supposed to be a day of comics, local artists, gaming, etc., but Mandel told us about the comic convention he was going to in Phoenix, where he lives. So even though Steve was feeling worn out because he's still sick-but-not-contagious, we went out to Phoenix and met Mandel there. The convention was an actual comic book convention, something SDCC hasn't been in years. However, I'm not really into comic books, because they were always a monthly expense that resulted in heavy boxes of stored comics. That was never something I wanted in my life, so I never got into comic book fandom.

There were some good costumes, including a bang-on Pam Poovey from the animated show "Archer", two Pyramid Heads, and quite a number of cool-things-I-couldn't-identify. There was almost no programming, which was odd. There were lots of anime-related items for shows I don't want swag from, and of course comics, comics, comics. I did get three things, a collection of "Walking Dead" comics done by 100 different artists as a fundraiser for elderly comic artists and writers; a Captain America anthology for myself, and a World of Warcraft hardcover graphic novel for my friend Linn in the Netherlands. She has the first two of the series, this was #3. The first two also cost her 25 Euros each, and I scored this for the equivalent of 8 Euros. She is over the moon about this; we were texting each other while I was there.

After that we went to Welcome Diner in the hipster district. This was a neighbourhood of badly kept yards and Craftsman style homes that held art galleries, vintage clothing shops, cafes, and so on. It reminded me a lot of Kensington Market back in Toronto, except that the establishments all looked like businesses that wouldn't have staying power. Welcome Diner was neat though. Most of the dining area was on the patio and you ordered through a window on the building. Mandel ordered a poutine that wasn't: fries, cheddar cheese, and sausage gravy. Steve got a burger that he really, really liked and I got a strange fried chicken sandwich. The chicken was in a tasty spicy batter, but over-coated. It was served on a nice grilled biscuit with a great aioli, a slice of tomato and a pile of arugula. Odd, but except for the thick batter it was again very good.

The plan for tomorrow is to work on Army paperwork and gathering up all the receipts and W2s for this year's taxes. We'll scan them and send them off to our accountant in San Diego. Whee.

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