Category Archives: Violence

If you Hit my Daughter to Show her you like her…

I will beat you to a bloody pulp to show you how much I love you for it. Deal?

Thought inspired by this:

I am sure every girl can recall, at least once as a child, coming home and telling their parents, uncle, aunt or grandparent about a boy who had pulled her hair, hit her, teased her, pushed her or committed some other playground crime.

‘I will bet money that most of those, if not all, will tell you that they were told “Oh, that just means he likes you”. I never really thought much about it before having a daughter of my own. I find it appalling that this line of bullshit is still being fed to young children.

‘Look, if you want to tell your child that being verbally and/or physically abused is an acceptable sign of affection, i urge you to rethink your parenting strategy.

‘If you try and feed MY daughter that crap, you better bring protective gear because I am going to shower you with the brand of “affection” you are endorsing.’

Read the rest by Queen of the Couch here.

Just to be clear, if you hit my son for the same reason, I’ll extend the deal to you, too.


Moving Through Male Violence

It’s really not that often I just post a link, mainly because it’s really not that often that something makes my heart sink slowly and swim in my stomach for a half hour or so. But this piece by Lidia Yuknavitch, is one such thing.

‘When my father raised his hand to me in our garage at eighteen, I said, “Do it.”

‘When the poet punched me in the nose in my pick-up truck at a stop light, I said, “Get the fuck out of my car or I will kill you.” And I meant it.

‘I’m telling you this because I know I’m not the only one who came of age like this. Up and through male violence. ‘I’m telling you because there are all the things that need to be done “out there” to stop it. But then there are also all the things that needed to be done in me. To stop it.

‘Listen, these are not the sad stories. Worse things happened to me. Those aren’t the sad stories either. These stories don’t carry the pathos to signify culturally in my culture. These stories I’m telling you are commonplace. That’s the point. They just happen and you live them and as you go you have to decide who you want to be.’

Read it. If you don’t marvel at the courage of the woman who can write this kind of truth, and want to invite her round for a cup of tea at the same time, I’ll be amazed.

Via Feministing.
Read it.


We Love Self-Defence!

I don’t advocate violence.  Really I don’t.

But I very much advocate self-defence.  I love self-defence!

And so much love goes to the Egyptian women featured here.

Vigilante gangs of ultra-conservative Salafi men have been harassing shop owners and female customers in rural towns around Egypt for “indecent behavior,” according to reports in the Egyptian news media.

‘But when they burst into a beauty salon in the Nile delta town of Benha this week and ordered the women inside to stop what they were doing or face physical punishment, the women struck back, whipping them with their own canes before kicking them out to the street in front of an astonished crowd of onlookers.’

What can I say?  Kick arse women like these make me feel happy.  Oh, and very cowardly.  But I’m a happy coward today.


Today Aims High

You will of course know this: today is the UN International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women.

I of course knew this, but what with one thing or another, it had slipped my mind.  ‘One thing or another’ for me, today, not including direct violence against me.  Is this privilege or just luck?

This, according to the UN, is the problem:

Violence against women and girls takes many forms and is widespread throughout the globe. It includes rape, domestic violence, harassment at work, abuse in school, female genital mutilation and sexual violence in armed conflicts. It is predominantly inflicted by men.’

What does that discription miss out?  I’ve been thinking of all the violence against women which is not spelt out there.  I’ve come up with a lot of stuff, but I’ll just leave you with one, in the words of somebody far more eloquent by me on the subject:

There is nothing safe for the women in porn, or for those who are pushed by their partners to emulate the painful and unsafe practices porn promotes. Porn treats women as disposable -literally, it fucks them over, and then moves onto ‘fresh pussy’.

Porn is also everywhere – it is now mainstream. How can we be so blind as to miss the glaring contradiction between promoting safe sex practices and glorifying porn? The two are totally incompatible.

The words ‘safe’ and ‘pornography’ don’t even belong in the same sentence. Porn damages – body, mind and spirit. Fact. I’m still working on unknotting the damage it’s done me.’ [by Angel K at Surviving]


Y’All Get that these People are Bat Shit Crazy, Right?

It’s not just me, right?

I’ve got no truck (well, not really), with people believing in ‘god’ per se; I see that there are many reasons why people choose to do so and, hey, who am I to judge?

Course, when those people ally that belief to a belief system which judges me – for swearing like a trooper, for having children out of wedlock, for eating chicken fried rice on a (gasp!) Friday or, say, oh, just being female – then I am exactly the person to judge.  ‘Belief system’ here obviously therefore covers every major, and every minor, religion on this planet.  And no, don’t argue with me because when even buddhism, the ‘belief system’ so beloved of left wing hippies it’s almost like it couldn’t exist if drugs didn’t, discriminates against women, you know you’re up shit creek and, regardless of the availability of propulsion systems, it frickin’ stinks.

I would say that this is what happens when religion turns bad, but this is just what happens when you have religion.  More specifically, it’s what happens when people decide they know what ‘god’ wants.

And God advocates child abuse.  No, not that kind of religious child abuse; cripes, even the Catholic priests didn’t try and pretend that ‘god’ told them to do it.

Bat. Shit. Crazy.


Women Run the World but Have Really Odd Priorities

Symbol of feminist oppression

Seriously.  If there’s one thing your average MRAer will tell you without even being asked – or even being on topic – it’s that women, by and large of the feminist persuasion, actually run the world.  Coo, I bet they felt good when Beyonce released that Run the World shit; she’d let the secret out!

That of course is why she had to fall ‘pregnant’; as punishment for showing those MRAs that they’d been right all along, the World Feminist Council forced her to retreat from global super-pop stardom into her kitchen making endless batches of blueberry muffins and practising saying ‘I find motherhood far more satisfying than global super-pop stardom and I never again will suggest erroneously that women run anything other than their mouths, gossipy things that we are’ with a modicum of conviction.  Any minute now, people.

OK, I’m joking.  There is no World Feminist Council except the one in my head (which I’m in charge of, by the way; ain’t no collectivist power shit in my WFC because I know best, hurumph!)

But the really odd thing is that whilst we run the world, instead of crowing about it (as MRAs will tell you we’re prone to doing) and using our power to bring in policies to, oh I don’t know, dismantle capitalism, fight global poverty, make abortion universally available, enforce equal pay legislation, force men to walk around for a day in those newly fashionable ‘stripper’ 7 inch platform heels and then see if it’s even possible to find them ‘sexy’, or, oh, you know, something remotely feminist or even just woman-ist, we instead choose to exercise our power covertly – going so far as to not only deny we have power but to set up a small contingent of women to whine about our lack of power (cunning, cunning!) – and in the frankly oddest of ways.

Yes, we could put an end to a culture of rape and domination, stop domestic violence in its tracks, or outlaw ‘Shipwrecked’, but instead we put…flashing lights on school buses in the States.  Oh, and paint them yellow.  Both of these things are how we turn school buses into symbols of feminist oppression.  Don’t look at me, I’m not the one making this shit up.  So with thanks to Manboobz for the biggest laugh I’ve had all day:

School Buses: A Symbol of Women Dominating Men and Boys

Now what I want to know – and I will be addressing the WFC with this later – is why?  What end of the feminist revolution is served by turning buses into symbols of gender oppression?  Answers on a postcard.


Links Count

Yes, they fucking do.  Despite having 37 (yes, 37) draft posts currently cluttering up my dashboard, precisely none (yes, none) take my fancy.  Not even remotely.

Happily – because it would just be too fricking depressing if I didn’t post on the first day after announcing I would post every day, so depressing I would have to grow another moustache out of my bum to even vaguely re-balance the universe – there are those things called ‘Links’ – ta-dah!

A review over at BitchBuzz of Miss Representation, a US film looking at media portrayals of females and how they basically lead to Boogie declining to be a neurosurgeon (‘you can’t be what you can’t see‘).  Or is that because I described to Boogie what a neurosurgeon actually does?  Potato, potahto.

[The film's] findings are depressing, showing that while women continue to be seriously under-represented in politics, business and journalism, they’re continuously judged on their looks, age and weight. Its aim is to get people thinking about just what is so wrong with all this.’

An ‘expose’ (now where is that e with an acute accent…no fucking idea) over at New Statesman of the abuse suffered by women daring (ooh, how very dare you!) to have opinions and express them on t’internet.  As so often with so many things you read in the ‘mainstream’ (but friendly) press, you read the article and think, fuck, this is really fucked up, fucking hell (you may not think in quite as many swearwords as me, but still), and then you read the comments…and you realise what’s really fucked up.

And, yes, I know this is a bit old (the basic idea has been around forever in feminist circles, though this may be it’s first time it’s been ‘formalised’ by a ‘formal’ organisation), but it still makes me laugh like a fucking drain (in an ironic, post-modern – or is that ‘pathetically grateful’ – way).  In fact, I like it so much, I’ll show it you here for the benefit of those too lazy to click the link:

Read that and you start to see things kind of from my point of view.  No, really; this is actually how I think.  That it’s people who rape people who need to address their behaviour.  Rather than, y’know, the people those people might rape.  I really am just coming at you from that far out of left field.  Yes, yes, I’m a lesbian communist with a neat sideline in child snatching.  Goes without saying, right?

And this from the always affecting Surviving Prostitution and Addiction, on why Pretty Woman was not a fucking documentary.

And that’s enough, for it is Friday night and my pizza has just arrived…


Amber Cole

I am not in the least zeitgeisty.

I’d go so far as to say that if we take the Wiki definition of zeitgeist as being ‘the general cultural, intellectual, ethical, spiritual, and/or political climate within a nation or even specific groups, along with the general ambiance, morals, sociocultural direction, and mood associated with an era’ then I’m so far out of being zeitgeisty that I am, in fact the Anti-Zeitgeist.  All hail and tremble before me, trendy people!

From not understanding the point of Twitter to not knowing my Pop Idol from my X-Factor from my Britain’s Got Talent, to being unable to order a Happy Meal, I am not of the moment.  When younger, this used to cause me some discomfort (‘Why?  Why?? WHY??? can’t I be normal??!?), but not now.  Now I’ve realised that it’s the rest of the fucking world which is loop-juice fucking crazy.

Which partially explains why I’ve only just come across Amber Cole, but more importantly explains why I just don’t get how people – and I mean everybody, people! – can’t see how fucked up this whole thing is.  How people can’t hear about what has happened to Amber Cole and to a fucking person understand how fucked up it is that:

A 14 year old girl gives a blow job to make a guy like her.

That she does it whilst being watched by another guy.

That the recipient is happy to receive a blow job while being watched by another guy.

That the watcher videos the whole thing.

That the watcher and/or recipient puts the whole thing up on the internet.

That people don’t immediately recognise, when they stumble on the video, that they are watching, at best, a form of child sexual abuse.

That those people don’t immediately notify the site showing the video and the site don’t immediately pull it.

That, instead, people actually discuss at great length, the girl’s sexual technique.

That, instead, people actually discuss at great length, what a complete and utter fucking slut/whore/ho the girl is.

That, instead, people actually discuss at great length, how she’s some nasty-assed black girl who lets down her race and gives black women a bad name.

That people never talk about the nasty-assedness of the boys involved.

That people never talk about where the fuck these boys‘ morals have come from.

That people never talk about where the fuck these boys‘ parents were.

Fucked up.  And you wonder why I’m not at all concerned about being normal anymore.  Ha!

And that’s just the misogyny.

I read about Amber Cole via Womanist Musings (not Twitter, obvs – waaaay too zeitgeisty), which also accuses the white feminist community of ignoring Amber Cole.

When I wrote about this last week, a commenter brought up the issue of lack of coverage of the incident in the feminist sphere.

‘I know that as bloggers, we have limited resources and we have to make careful consideration over what we bring attention to, but the glaring silence about Amber Cole is painful. Black women have spoken up in droves to claim #teamambercole, as a method of rejecting the slut shaming and the cyber bullying involved in this incident.

‘The silence of our supposed White female activist allies speaks loudly.’

Given that the only reference in white-feminist-spaces I could find was to a frankly jaw-dropping piece on Jezebel, entitled ‘I am Amber Cole’s Father’ by somebody who isn’t (but who actually says shit like ‘where was her mother?’ – read this to get a flavour without having to actually eat any of it), I would have to agree.  Sure, some people will miss it (like, er, me), some people will just be holiday that week, some people will have spilled coffee on their computer…but, no one?  Really?

Every time something about women doesn’t get reported (like, oh, every day for, oh, the last however long since people first communicated via drawings on cave walls…have I mentioned Women\’s Views on News?), I immediately think ‘Really?  Really?  Are you frickin’ kidding me?  Sexism, much?’

I’m thinking that now, only ending with ‘Racism, much?’

I get that feminism tends to be dominated by white women and I get that white privilege still seems to get in the way of white feminists understanding that it’s not enough to simply say, ‘well, why don’t women of colour just get involved then, yada, yada?’ and that there is an active obligation on the movement to create a safe space to welcome those women, whilst said feminists simultaneously insist that the Patriarchy creates a safe space for them.  I don’t like it, but I get it.

But are white feminists really so wrapped in privilege that we really don’t see that what has happened with Amber Cole is more important to speak about because it happened to a black girl than to a white one?  Because Amber Cole is being shamed not only as a female but as a black female?  Because black women are essentially, again, being told to shut up about sexism because they’ll ‘divide’ the anti-racism movement?  Like women of all colours are being told vis-a-vis the Occupy movement?  People, this shit is all connected!

‘...if Black women don’t stand beside [Amber Cole] and declare that cyber bullying is absolutely wrong, and that slut shaming a young girl for failing to make a wise decision is indefensible, then no one will.

‘The only people we can reliably count on is each other. I have been told many times since I started Womanist Musings that my approach is divisive, and that I cause harm to the delicate fabric of female solidarity.

‘If being angry at being neglected, when we are so clearly being attacked is considered divisive, then you don’t really have a vested interest in women.’

I can only really agree.  I mean, jeez, I’m still a novice when it comes to examining my own privilege but surely white feminists everywhere have at least read a bit of bell hooks?  Surely?


Abortion Saved My Life

I’m not prone to crying, but this just made me weep.

Abortion Saved My Life

Read it and weep for a woman who almost died  because nobody would abort a foetus that was already dead.


Mistress’s New Law No.4

With thanks to Kenneth Clarke for the inspiration.

Following on from his white guy patriarchal misogynistic rape apologist comments, we have Mistress’s New law No. 4.

Given that the current definition of consent seems to cause so much confusion (‘well, she didn’t cut my cock off, so she must’ve been OK with it’), Law N0.4 will bring some much needed clarity to the area.  Henceforth, a woman’s consent to any sexual act is to be defined in accordance with the principles put forward in Hole’s Asking for It.

Thus, in the event of any dispute as to whether valid consent was in fact given, the following questions will be posed:

Was she asking for it?

Was she asking nice?

If she was asking for it,

Did she ask you twice?

Subsequent to these requirements, anyone accused of rape or sexual assault must provide evidence that not only did the woman positively consent to the act in a happily enthusiastic fashion, she positively reiterated that consent a second time, just to make sure there would be no misunderstanding.  Failure to provide such evidence will lead to a presumption of no consent.

And yes, I realise this tips the current notion of consent on its head – silence will not be enough, I’m afraid, my ‘date’ raping friends – and it will lead to some written contract probably becoming normalised prior to any consensual sexual interaction, but this is a fucking revolution, my friends.  Change is kind of what it’s all about.


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