2012-05-14 14:28
digitaldiscipline
I am going to commit a great taboo, and kick over what may be a large and messy can of legless invertebrates here, and discuss the F-word at some length.
No, not "fuck." (What the fuck, are you new?)
Feminism.
So,
chernobylred has this LJ icon. She is smart and interesting and says things worth reading; you should check her LJ out[1].
I find myself, if not actually embroiled in feminist struggles (which, by dint of my gender, I think I can reasonably and rightly be excluded from; other than being a short and somewhat bald atheist, I'm about as steeped in positional privilege as one is apt to be), then at least getting behind the car and pushing, if not at least standing nearby and cheering folks fighting that fight on and offering to behead those who wrongly oppose them. The entry linked there was not the beginning of this journey, but it's certainly an obvious splashdown, and link-chasing for it put me in touch with the inimitable bloggess Requires Only That You Hate, with whom I've had some enlightening, if prickly, conversations over on Teh Twitterz (mostly with ReqHate & Feminazgul, who, it must be said, has an awesome handle).
Some of that prickle comes from, to engage in some coy wordplay, the existence of my prick. There's a hardline stripe of feminism that simply excludes men; I'm less informed on whether that's a blanket statement about all genetic XY types, or if it's purely the cis-gendered. I take their point, but it's not going to stop me from shooting my mouth off for equal treatment for everybody; and a vigorous middle finger in the eye of anyone who attempts to Animal Farm their way into "more equal" territory. Whether that makes me a "feminist," a "feminist supporter," a "feminist ally," or just "not an asshole," I don't much give a shit. Of course, I'm not going to stop needling anyone who takes themself, or their -ism-identity too seriously, either; maybe that will end up with ReqHate wanting to fling me into a pit of angry bees or something, but that's okay. I recognize a kindred spirit who is willing and eager to say, "No, BECAUSE FUCK YOU," to get their point across.
As it says on the profile page: "Fuck this shit of 'respecting everyone's political opinions' - I'll respect your goddamn political opinions when your political opinions respect queers, minorities, women, the poor, and marginalized people everywhere. I have no obligation to be nice to assholes." -
raeling
So, there's that; this has suffused a lot of the secondary conversations
cassandrasimplx and I have, usually about the disappointment we feel towards the bottom half of the internet, primarily in comments made on Facebook by various folks of her extended social circle. I am, generally, bouncing between wanting to smack these people in the face with a lawnmower or brush up on my Proper Southern Etiquette and unload some mil-spec "Bless Their Heart" on 'em because they are, in general, working from the socially and intellectually handicapped position of being from Texas. (Look, I know some very nice Texans, by birth and by choice, but, goddamn, y'all elect, appoint, and tolerate some hideously back-asswards motherfuckers and their gender politics make the entire region (shit, the entire *country*) look bad.)
All of which is a big fucking pile of table-setting for a very animated conversation I had with a couple of women at my office on Friday afternoon. Nobody here ought to be surprised to hear that, if I work out with colleagues, I push them a little bit; a month or so ago, I went out with a couple of folks for a walk/run interval sojourn (they're newly active, I'm wearing my 40# weight vest; it was a reasonable workout for all of us), and in the wake of that, they (being a mother/daughter pair) have subsequentlytaken my name in vain turned me into a verb to mean "physically challenge with implied arduousness."
"You're not gonna Rafe me, are you?"
("That sound you hear is the sound of ultimate suffering; my heart make it when the six-fingered man kill my father. The man in black makes it now." - Inigo Montoya)
Sooo... yeah. They're popularizing the term among other gym-goers at my office, and becoming an unofficial cheerleading and marketing grassroots movement.... which I happened to walk in on Friday. "I've gotta say, I'm not really that comfortable with the term. I mean, my ego is robust and all, but... I really don't think that branding a difficult physical task with a close homophone to sexual assault is really anyplace I want to go, especially since it's my fucking name[2]."
I had the further realization that I've only worn pants to the office once in the last three and a half weeks. Utilikilts got OK'd by HR as being dresscode-compliant. A friend of a friend posted a "Kilt Etiquette 101" rant online, and, unsurprisingly, there's a lot of enthusiastic support for guys in kilts, not leastwise from the portion of the populace who thinks it's an attractive look. But there were comments made by guys who have been inappropriately kilt-checked, or who have heard, directly or indirectly, some pretty off-putting things said about their sartorial choices.
It's no shock that I don't put up with that kind of crap, and recognize that my pantslessness is doing double duty: on the one hand, changing perceptions of masculine presentation; while on the other, making the point, both to myself (as the object) and to those around me that the objectification of someone else is unsavory, dehumanizing, and generally not a cool thing to do. I have yet to bring out the rhetorical "nuclear option" of mentioning, "Would you say something like that to a woman because of something she's wearing? And if so, what the fuck is wrong with you?"
I find it a little weird that I am championing women's rights and fighting sexual victimization when, by all accounts, that conversation should be happening the other way. Just being acutely mindful of how pervasive this is, online an off, gives me an almost constant headache.
This shit needs to change. We're the people who need to make it happen.
[1] You should also totally get hip to the LJ of her paramour and partner in crime,
mckitterick, who is both an SF dude and a muscle car aficionado; come for the astro-porn, stay for the V8 burnouts and chassis rebuilds.
[2] Later, one of them came up to my desk on other business, and I had to further point out that I had spent twenty years dealing with the fact that my given name is a synonym for "vomit," so, yeah, that's something I've got experience with and fitted luggage for baggage handling purposes.
No, not "fuck." (What the fuck, are you new?)
Feminism.
So,
I find myself, if not actually embroiled in feminist struggles (which, by dint of my gender, I think I can reasonably and rightly be excluded from; other than being a short and somewhat bald atheist, I'm about as steeped in positional privilege as one is apt to be), then at least getting behind the car and pushing, if not at least standing nearby and cheering folks fighting that fight on and offering to behead those who wrongly oppose them. The entry linked there was not the beginning of this journey, but it's certainly an obvious splashdown, and link-chasing for it put me in touch with the inimitable bloggess Requires Only That You Hate, with whom I've had some enlightening, if prickly, conversations over on Teh Twitterz (mostly with ReqHate & Feminazgul, who, it must be said, has an awesome handle).
Some of that prickle comes from, to engage in some coy wordplay, the existence of my prick. There's a hardline stripe of feminism that simply excludes men; I'm less informed on whether that's a blanket statement about all genetic XY types, or if it's purely the cis-gendered. I take their point, but it's not going to stop me from shooting my mouth off for equal treatment for everybody; and a vigorous middle finger in the eye of anyone who attempts to Animal Farm their way into "more equal" territory. Whether that makes me a "feminist," a "feminist supporter," a "feminist ally," or just "not an asshole," I don't much give a shit. Of course, I'm not going to stop needling anyone who takes themself, or their -ism-identity too seriously, either; maybe that will end up with ReqHate wanting to fling me into a pit of angry bees or something, but that's okay. I recognize a kindred spirit who is willing and eager to say, "No, BECAUSE FUCK YOU," to get their point across.
As it says on the profile page: "Fuck this shit of 'respecting everyone's political opinions' - I'll respect your goddamn political opinions when your political opinions respect queers, minorities, women, the poor, and marginalized people everywhere. I have no obligation to be nice to assholes." -
So, there's that; this has suffused a lot of the secondary conversations
All of which is a big fucking pile of table-setting for a very animated conversation I had with a couple of women at my office on Friday afternoon. Nobody here ought to be surprised to hear that, if I work out with colleagues, I push them a little bit; a month or so ago, I went out with a couple of folks for a walk/run interval sojourn (they're newly active, I'm wearing my 40# weight vest; it was a reasonable workout for all of us), and in the wake of that, they (being a mother/daughter pair) have subsequently
"You're not gonna Rafe me, are you?"
("That sound you hear is the sound of ultimate suffering; my heart make it when the six-fingered man kill my father. The man in black makes it now." - Inigo Montoya)
Sooo... yeah. They're popularizing the term among other gym-goers at my office, and becoming an unofficial cheerleading and marketing grassroots movement.... which I happened to walk in on Friday. "I've gotta say, I'm not really that comfortable with the term. I mean, my ego is robust and all, but... I really don't think that branding a difficult physical task with a close homophone to sexual assault is really anyplace I want to go, especially since it's my fucking name[2]."
I had the further realization that I've only worn pants to the office once in the last three and a half weeks. Utilikilts got OK'd by HR as being dresscode-compliant. A friend of a friend posted a "Kilt Etiquette 101" rant online, and, unsurprisingly, there's a lot of enthusiastic support for guys in kilts, not leastwise from the portion of the populace who thinks it's an attractive look. But there were comments made by guys who have been inappropriately kilt-checked, or who have heard, directly or indirectly, some pretty off-putting things said about their sartorial choices.
It's no shock that I don't put up with that kind of crap, and recognize that my pantslessness is doing double duty: on the one hand, changing perceptions of masculine presentation; while on the other, making the point, both to myself (as the object) and to those around me that the objectification of someone else is unsavory, dehumanizing, and generally not a cool thing to do. I have yet to bring out the rhetorical "nuclear option" of mentioning, "Would you say something like that to a woman because of something she's wearing? And if so, what the fuck is wrong with you?"
I find it a little weird that I am championing women's rights and fighting sexual victimization when, by all accounts, that conversation should be happening the other way. Just being acutely mindful of how pervasive this is, online an off, gives me an almost constant headache.
This shit needs to change. We're the people who need to make it happen.
[1] You should also totally get hip to the LJ of her paramour and partner in crime,
[2] Later, one of them came up to my desk on other business, and I had to further point out that I had spent twenty years dealing with the fact that my given name is a synonym for "vomit," so, yeah, that's something I've got experience with and fitted luggage for baggage handling purposes.
(no subject)
I've never, in the nearly ten years I've been wearing Utilikilts, been checked without an ask (and maybe five times, ever, with the silliest being an "upskirt" shot in a dark club. You can almost make out the fact that I have knees), and as I said in my remarks on the FOAF's post, anyone who does that to me had better be a well-known acquaintance, or they're getting volubly dressed-down in front of all and sundry at best.
The plug was no problem at all; I miss the car porn. *grin* Your exploits have caused me to troll Craigslist looking for something similar, though I don't have the shade-tree mechanical inclination or the stocked garage (or a garage at all, for that matter) to take on projects of the scope you do.
You still totally need to take a video of that Chevelle wasting gas and revving. ;-)
(no subject)
(no subject)