As we get ready to take off for the Thanksgiving Holiday, and are in the midst of fighting for reproductive health to be included in health care reform, I wanted to take a moment to make a list of what I’m thankful for:

• That there are currently 850 Planned Parenthood health centers operating across the country, offering a wide range of safe, reliable and affordable health care services to women and men in need.
• That we’ve received such an overwhelming response in our call to action to stop the Stupak amendment. We’ve already filled up our buses down to DC for the December 2 Day of Action, and tens of thousands of you have signed our online petition to keep language like what’s in the Stupak amendment out of health care reform.
• That despite setbacks many women in this country not only have access to safe, legal abortion services but a range of family planning options.
• That our country is no longer funneling massive funds into harmful abstinence-only sex education.
• That PPNYC has so many amazing and inspiring activists working with us.
• That Baltimore just passed a law requiring Crisis Pregnancy Centers to clearly state that they do not provide abortion or birth control referrals.
• That women today have such an amazing online feminist community to turn to with blogs like feministing, feministe, RH Realiity Check and more.

What else are you thankful for?

Thanks to Flickr user abbietabbie for the photo.

Je vois déjà les associations féministes s’indigner à l’aide de futurs posts déchaînés, qui vont pleuvoir comme des gifles sur le côté machiste et dégradant du jeu en ligne “Hit the Bitch“.

Parce que le concept est à la fois simple et dingue: une jeune demoiselle s’approche gentiment de vous et vous devez la taper suffisamment fort pour passer du stade “Pussy” au niveau “Gangsta” (dédicace au passage à MC Brandon, plus connu sous le nom de Lil Gangsta Wow). Et pour être plus efficace, vous avez le choix des armes: la souris ou la webcam, pour ceux qui veulent bénéficier d’une jouabilité façon Wii Sport Resort.

Sauf que bien évidemment, il s’agit d’une opération marketing, un message traitant d’idiots ceux ayant mis plus de 5 claques à la jeune femme sans défense. Problème: le message est incompréhensible parce que diffusé en danois. Reste que le site permet de se déguiser en Chris Brown ou en Bertrand Cantat, même si Halloween est déjà passé.

Si vous êtes curieux ou que vous comprenez le danois, cliquez ici

Je revis ces jours-ci les symptômes d’une crise récurrente. Je m’impatiente pour des détails impossibles à contrôler au quotidien, par exemple :

les habits ou chaussures retirés n’importe où et laissés pour compte, les paires que l’on dépareille, les pots mals vissés dont le contenu (sauce piment toxique) s’écoule lentement dans le frigo, les bacs de vêtements pliés avec effort et dilligence dans lesquels on farfouille jusqu’à en brouiller tout le contenu, les restes de tables jetés à côté du sac mal ajusté qui souillent irrémédiablement la poubelle…

Les négligences de ma tribu ont pour moi des conséquences sérieuses car je suis une femme moderne et mon emploi du temps est réglé au quart de tour.

J’ai le temps d’habiller mon petit le matin, mais pas de chercher un slip propre gros comme ma main dans un fouilli d’habits, encore moins de retrouver l’autre chaussure, l’autre chaussette, l’autre mitaine…
J’ai le temps de changer le sac de la poubelle mais pas de gratter l’amas en putréfaction qui en orne le fond.
J’ai le temps pour un ménage rapide des vieux restes dans le frigo, mais pas pour un lavage en profondeur à l’eau chaude et au savon sur trois étages de rayons.

Je me demande parfois si je suis la seule à vivre un agacement aussi profond pour ces imperfections du quotidien qui me brouillent la vue et me donnent l’impression que je sombre irrémédiablement dans le chaos. J’ai le sentiment que le reste de la planète opère nettement mieux que moi pour contrôler ces petits travers et que mon domicile est en fait un bastion inégalé d’inefficacité ménagère.

Il existe une ribambelle de superhéros, mais pas un seul (à part M. Net, dont je ne possède pas le numéro) pour venir à ma rescousse. Ma culture religieuse est limitée, mais peut-être qu’un bon vieux saint ou plus plausiblement, une sainte, a été sacrée patronnesse des ingratitudes domestiques ?

Je remercie mes précurseures féministes, qui m’ont libérée du foyer et donné une chance de me réaliser, mais sincèrement, certains détails de la vie domestique ne sont tout simplement pas détectés par le radar de nos partenaires de corvées, aussi bien disposés fussent-ils à faire leur part.

Je me surprends parfois à rêver d’être ménagère à temps plein. J’imagine un chez-moi bien astiqué, fleurant bon le ragoût et la tarte aux pommes.

Je vous le dis, ces jours-ci, je suis vraiment malade.

P.S. N’hésitez pas à me faire part de vos trucs à vous, pour remédier au chaos.

En veille de la manifestation féministe à Bastille, voilà ce qu’on pouvait voir au Salon de la Photo 2009 : chez Panasonic, deux modèles : jeunes femmes en soutien-gorge léopard et mini-jupe, portant un serpent sur leurs épaules et dansant au rythme de la musique.

]]> http://renartleveille.wordpress.com/2009/10/15/georges-laraque-sexisme-pu/ Thu, 15 Oct 2009 07:04:26 +0000 renartleveille http://renartleveille.wordpress.com/2009/10/15/georges-laraque-sexisme-pu/ http://theyellowkid.wordpress.com/2009/10/09/orelsan-est-nomine-au-prix-constantin/ Fri, 09 Oct 2009 11:05:41 +0000 The Yellow Kid http://theyellowkid.wordpress.com/2009/10/09/orelsan-est-nomine-au-prix-constantin/

Je sais que je devrais soutenir ce genre d’initiative, être content que le hip hop soit admis à la table des hautes instances, que les lyricistes aient enfin leur place aux côtés des autres auteurs de variété et que la valeur de leurs textes soient enfin reconnue, mais non. Le Prix Constantin, qui récompense lors d’une cérémonie à l’Olympia (le 9 novembre cette année) le “meilleur artiste révélation ayant marqué l’année musicale” à l’aide d’un jury composé de professionnels issus de l’industrie du disque, commence à sérieusement se foutre de notre gueule.

Pour ne pas être taxé de sectaire et s’attirer les foudres (pas très dangereuses quand même) des “journalistes hip hop”, le Prix a tacitement décidé de nominer chaque année un artiste plus ou moins hip hop, histoire de calmer cette masse qui râle tout le temps. Alors après avoir récompensé Abd Al Malik (vous comprenez tout de suite mieux le “plus ou moins hip hop” précédent) et nominé Keny Arkana (qui pour le coup aurait du gagner), c’est au tour d’Orelsan de figurer dans la liste des 10 potentiels lauréats.

Et même si j’aime beaucoup Orelsan, parce qu’on se reconnaît forcément dans ses couplets assez justes, de là à dire qu’il a marqué l’année musicale, faut pas pousser. Parce que musicalement, le succès commercial n’a pas du tout été évident et l’album, bien qu’intéressant et bien fait, n’a pas marqué les esprits de manière indélébile. La prochaine fois, au lieu de prendre l’artiste consensuel qui résonne le plus à l’oreille du grand public, n’ayez pas peur de dire que 2009 n’a pas été une année exceptionnelle pour le rap français et que vous n’avez retenu personne, on vous en voudra pas d’être lucide.

A moins qu’en fait, le problème soit ailleurs, et que l’on parle d’un domaine autre que la musique en elle même. Mais à ce que je sache, ça s’appelle le Prix Constantin, pas le “Prix de la plus grosse victime qui n’a pas osé assumer son morceau, qui soit dit en passant a choqué uniquement les abruti(e)s (attention aux féministes) en quête de buzz, de fausse polémique et de sens à leur blog”. Mais quoiqu’il arrive, il faut qu’Orelsan se fasse une raison: c’est perdu d’avance.

Hold the hankies, girls. Here comes the heresy. To wit, maybe we’re actually a lot happier than Marcus Buckingham et al think we are.

It’s not that anyone disputes the data. Clearly, the numbers are all there, and they show that quantitatively, women rate themselves lower on the happiness scale than they did back in the seventies.

But amidst all this media blowback, I can’t help wondering: are we once again being sold a bill of goods? Are we maybe defining happiness a little narrowly? Confusing unhappiness with stress? And is all this talk about the happiness gap some sort of subtle ploy to convince us that, really, we were better off when we stuck to the kitchen? That there’s no path like the safe path?

Before the “woe is me” goes viral, maybe we’d be better off wondering why.

Because here’s the thing. The more our opportunities, our choices, our expectations grow — the more our lives expand, the more we juggle. And of course we’re angsty. We have more demands on our time and our abilities, both personally and professionally. More responsibilities. More relationships. We reach outside ourselves, we stretch, we put ourselves out there in a way that means others are going to judge us. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist — or a social scientist — to note that of course we would feel pulled, stretched and stressed. But see, here comes the heresy. I don’t think that is necessarily how you measure happy. Sure, you work all day. Then you come home and wrangle all the stuff of real life — dinner, laundry, kids, bills, you name it — and maybe work some more before bed. Tired, yeah. Stressed, maybe. Pissed off, quite possibly. But truly unhappy? Depends on how you define it.

Or how you parse it out. Check out this smart counterpoint on HuffPo by Morra Aarons-Mele and Ellen Galinski, who offer some good data to suggest that men, too, might have some of this unhappiness action as well.

As Shannon wrote on Sunday:

... by focusing on self-reported, empirical measurements of happiness, are we conveniently missing the harder point, making what is, at its core, a societal issue personal instead? Is this issue of happiness just a smokescreen, to keep the discussion light and distract us from what lies beneath: that, despite all the strides we’ve made towards equality, we are simply not there yet?

Feministe blogger Jillian Hewitt seems to get it:

… Perhaps there’s something to be said for the fact that with greater opportunities, higher standards of living, etc. come more opportunities for problems… Maybe we just need to face up to the fact that there are simply more things to be unhappy about. But even if we are more unhappy, I would argue that we still have reason to feel more fulfilled. Even if we fail—fail to get into the school we want, fail to get the job we want, fail to find the man or woman of our dreams—we can still be grateful that we had the opportunity to do so.

….The final point I want to make is actually drawn off of a quote used by Gracie earlier in the week. She quotes Betsey Stevenson, who explains that “Across the happiness data, the one thing in life that will make you less happy is having children…Yet I know very few people who would tell me they wish they hadn’t had kids or who would tell me they feel their kids were the destroyer of their happiness.” And I think the same logic applies in light of this situation, too: maybe it’s true that our “greater educational, political, and employment opportunities” have made us less happy. But those opportunities aren’t ones that I’m willing to give back.

Nor should any of us. If we’re truly in a funk because life has dealt us more opportunity, maybe it’s not the choices themselves that have made us unhappy. But rather, the fact that we haven’t quite mastered the art of dealing with them.

And then there’s this. Despite all those new sources of stress out there — job, grad school, the kids and the dog, the blog (oops, did I type that out loud?) — on balance, isn’t the satisfaction and fullfillment we get out of any or all worth a dose of angst now and then?

I don’t call that unhappy. I call it growing pains.

This ad against prop. 1 in Maine made me feel uncomfortable in a lot of ways I think are worth delving into a little bit. First, the caveats before I get started so I’m in no way misunderstood. I’m for marriage equality because I think anti-gay laws are hateful and have no place in our country. I’m against marriage as defined or categorized by the government, who should not be enshrining religious conventions in law with tax benefits. The government in my opinion has no business legitimating or even less so delegitimating any relationship between consulting adults. We need to find a way to rid ourselves of laws that picture average Americans as Beverly and June Cleaver. The World isn’t like that. But as long as the government is going to keep recognizing marriages, we ought not exclude any consenting adults. I find the issue enraging and I can’t stand the bigots either, but I don’t think it’s the civil rights movement of the 21st century or some shit like that. I don’t think it should even be the biggest issue for whatever the “queer rights” movement is at the moment, especially considering the epidemic of homelessness among queer youth. But I also understand the emotional importance and cheered my parents from afar when they responded to a pro Prop 8 sign across the street by instigating a wave of anti signs around the block.
The Sam Putnam video is I think largely representative of how the gay equality movement has mobilized message-wise. The video has this adorable, nonthreatening and shaggy-headed kid with his dignified and caring mothers. Together the three of them are standing on what looks to be the porch of their large home (whether it is their home or not doesn’t really matter). This is the image the movement has been projecting, nonthreatening upper-class white gays and lesbians who are just like straight people except gay. Turning a demand for equal protection under the law into asking nicely for a tax break because you’re not like “scary gay” or anything makes me a bit sick. As Monica at Feministe points out, there hasn’t been much attention within the marriage equality fight to issues of intersectionality. The Putnam’s aren’t going to look a bit out of place at a P.T.A. meeting, but if they did would it be okay to discriminate against them?
All that said, if you need more commercial families, my cousins Oliver and Lucy (who just had her first day of kindergarten I might add) are freaking adorable.

“Quand on touche au sujet des femmes, je crois qu’il est difficile d’éviter de parler politique.”

It’s Friday night and the streets are filled

With rich little fucking college pussy faggots

I’m gonna get a fucking gun

And shoot them all right in the balls

…

So like when I’m on Lansdowne and I’m looking to score

I say, “Hey baby, you wanna boogie?”

And they say, “Why don’t you buy me a drink?”

And I say, “Why I don’t tear your clothes off

And spit in your face, bitch!”

Dropkick Murphys, “Pipebomb on Lansdowne (Dance Remix)”

Much like how Chuck reads Feministing as a guilty pleasure, I’m fond of flipping through the pages of College Candy from time to time. If hilariously bad blogs were gold mines, College Candy would generate enough bullion to close the U.S. budget deficit. The site isn’t explicitly feminist like Feministing, Feministe (very original names there), Jezebel, or the other she-blogs out there, but still derives its comedy from the utter cluelessness of its contributors. A couple of recent items caught my attention because of their sheer stupidity. Join me, my readers, as we take a jaunt into the sewers of Retardation Nation.

First up, this piece introducing CC’s new column, “Ask a Dude”:

Fact: Women don’t understand men.
Fact: For the past 6 months, I’ve attempted to get some answers from some men to help all the ladies out there truly understand what the eff those turds are thinking.
Fact: After seeing a guy for two months and being “dumped” via email (where he called me the wrong name), I’m still horribly confused.

The only answer this broad needs is a slap upside the head. The reason those “turds” are screwing with you is because you sleep with them. Much like how people who try to break into popular career paths such as acting are mistreated by their superiors, the men you date treat you horribly because there are plenty of you and only a few of them, so they can get away with it. The sexual marketplace, like any marketplace, is beholden to supply and demand.

While our resident guy gave some pretty sound advice, there are so many tricky situations we women find ourselves in with men on a daily basis. Situations that can’t be summed up in some general question about dating or life or fake boobs.

So, I went on a quest to find a man who can be our voice of reason when we need him most. Like when our crush isn’t returning our calls, or, I don’t know, a guy says he loves us but wants to take the relationship back a few notches. WTF?

Tons of guys expressed interest in advising the ladies of CollegeCandy (why can’t this many dudes express interest in me!?), but I needed the perfect guy: a dude with an understanding of both men and women, a douchey past and a good-guy present. And I found him! (Unfortch, he’s taken, ladies.) He’ll be answering your questions weekly, so if you’ve got something you’re dying to figure out – and your girlfriends don’t know what they’re talking about – send ‘em over to [REDACTED]. Our dude will give it to you straight, no matter how much it hurts.

Any guy who would pass muster for a squishy, estrogenized website like College Candy would have to be lacking in the testicle department. Skedaddle over to the website and take a look at their “dude” to see what I mean. Don’t you just want to punch that jackass in the face? He looks exactly like the “rich fucking college pussy faggots” that clog the streets of Albany every weekend night, crowding the bars, embarrassing themselves with their weak-ass game, and making it harder for guys like myself to get with their nubile lady classmates.

But it gets better. Take a look at the answers “the Dude” gives to this chick’s questions:

What is one thing that all girls need to know about men?

The Dude: That men are only as complicated as women make them. Although I’d like to say that I’m a deep and thoughtful guy, it pretty much goes without saying that I think about one thing all the time…nothing. If I am at work, carrying out a task, eating a burger, or having sex…that is exactly what I’m thinking about. There is no deeper meaning, there is no analysis of my day, and there is no perfectly meditated intent behind my actions. Frankly, we’re just that simple.

Well, actually, he gets this one right. But he’ll screw up – I know he will.

What is the most romantic thing you’ve ever done for a lady?

The Dude: I wish I could say that a long list of tender, considerate moments are running through my (ever understanding) mind, but unfortunately, I was either too broke, too drunk, or too into the latest football game to ever truly sweep a chick of her feet. However, I have found that the most romantic thing a guy can do is to pay attention to the little things that really matter to a woman. For example, although past girlfriends have loved big gestures involving diamonds and various trips to Jared, my lady prefers an ice cold latte, trashy tabloid magazine, and two dudes named Ben & Jerry.

See, what did I tell ya? The most romantic thing a man can do for a woman is keep her enthralled with him, namely by having game. If you buy expensive gifts for your girl, you’re a grade-A sucker and you’re setting yourself up to be dumped. And this guy’s current girlfriend likes Ben & Jerry? Who wants to bet she has more rolls then a bakery?

What’s the douchiest thing you’ve ever done to a woman?

The Dude: Here is where my long list comes into play. After much thought (and an extensive selection process), I’ve narrowed it down to the following douchy incident. A few years back, I put a ton of time (and dinner at pretentious restaurants) into a girl I was into, but moved to Europe shortly after things started getting serious. Although I was abroad for a year, I kept things burning with the (faithful and loyal) girlfriend stateside, while actually taking in more than just the local culture (if you know what I mean.) Even worse, I broke up with her within 5 minutes of returning home.

Guys, don’t ever go on dinner dates. There is no woman alive worth three hours and a hundred dollars worth of food. “The Dude” just disqualified himself from giving any advice aside from how to be a beta. As for screwing foreign hotties while on vacation, isn’t that part of the fun of traveling?

What’s the biggest lesson you’ve learned about women?

The Dude: Alright, time for me to redeem myself from my supremely douchy past. Here is what I know about women: no matter how deep under the surface it may be…all women love to be loved. They want someone to adore and care for them (without playing games or going behind their back). They love talking about love, they love analyzing love with their friends, they love reading books and watching (occasionally tolerable) movies about love, they love pretending they don’t need love, they love hating love… You get my point? It’s one of the most endearing and amazing things about women, and why men are so mesmerized by them.

And we have officially reached the critical mass of ass. Women “want someone to adore and care for them?” If you believe that, then you deserve to come home after work and find your blushing bride giving a hummer to some tattooed asshole she met in a meat bar. And “men are so mesmerized by [women]” because they “love to be loved”? You’ve earned a second punch to the face for that one. Men are “mesmerized” by hot women because they make our groin-soldiers stand at attention, and nothing more.

Why do you want to do this column?

The Dude: To put it bluntly (and would I ever put it any other way?), I am unbelievably sick of women taking, toting and living by advice about men…that was written by women. Whether it’s women’s magazines, your friends or (though you try to deny) your frequent calls to your mother, advice about men is rarely about men, it’s about what women think about men. And to be honest, men just don’t think that much.

Given that you’re one scrotamectomy away from being a woman, “Dude,” your advice isn’t going to be any better.

See? Isn’t he perfect? He knows us and he knows us well. Now send him some questions, dammit!

“Perfect[ly]” catering to your prejudices and insecurities, sweetcheeks. And people wonder why female-targeted dating advice is so goddamn useless.

The second article I came across is by some chick who is single, sexless, and not happy:

My roommate has recently entered a relationship with a really hot, sexy Puerto Rican guy. As a result she has been having lots of hot, sexy sex. And as a result of this, I have been hearing every detail about it.

“I got an alpha male and you don’t! Nyah nyah, nyah nyah nyah!” And “hot, sexy sex”? As opposed to un-hot, unsexy sex?

Being open beyond acceptable social norms, this doesn’t bug me. But while we were out recently and had one too many beers (hey, at 2 bucks a pitcher, I’m only being economical at this point), she made a comment that kind of got my wheels turning.

“Gosh. I wish you were having tons of sex too so we could freaking exchange stories already.”

And here I thought the point of sex was to have an orgasm and possibly make babies.

Pause.

What?!

“Hello, my whole ‘thing’ is that I’m okay with being single. Who the eff are you to tell me that I need a man to be happy? Also, I think you should have to pay more rent this month cause you have just severely offended me. Jerk.” I stuck my (angry) face in the pitcher and took a gulp.

She grabbed the pitcher from me, splashing Keystone all over my face, and responded calmly. “I never said I wanted you to get a boyfriend. I said I wanted you to have lots of sex. You don’t need a boyfriend for that.”

Boys, we have a potential fuckbuddy on our hands! The world needs “good time girls,” and I encourage all of them to turn themselves out as soon as possible so we guys know who to avoid for anything more than a night of ass-slapping, hair-yanking, no-strings-attached sex.

Oh. Right. I forgot that little tiny detail. Because while I believe that you can have fun, fulfillment, enjoyment, and close personal relationships without romantic relationships…I have always been on the fence over whether or not you should have sex.

I’ve never thought it was wrong to have sex without being in a relationship. Look, this isn’t the 1950’s anymore; you don’t need someone’s letterman jacket before you crawl into the backseat of his Mustang. And while I’d never consider sleeping with seven anonymous strangers in a night, I will admit there are some (okay, a BILLION) gray areas between anonymity and monogamy. If you know the person is safe, and you know you can handle it emotionally, do you really have to be in a relationship to have sex? (And at any rate, shouldn’t physical and emotional safety be things you check up on even in a relationship?)

Do you have to be in a relationship to get it on? No, not really. Thing is, too many one-night stands and flings and eventually the only thing men will want you for is one-night stands and flings. If spending the rest of your years cleaning your cats’ litterboxes and taking Valtrex appeals to you, then by all means, ignore what I have to say.

But, I’ve just always wondered if casual sex could be as fulfilling.

While I tend to actively ignore most societal standards, I like to be aware of them. My guy friends seemed to almost unanimously agree that you didn’t need to be in a relationship to be having fulfilling sex. (Some of them even offered to help me find out for myself. Oh, how kind.)  The female counterparts seemed more divided on the issue; some of my girlfriends told me as long as you make sure he’s not a creep and he wraps his tool, sex is sex. It is a natural human need, and you don’t need a relationship to fulfill it.

“Societal standards?” Oh, screw you. Being a slut in modern America is like being a drunk at an AA meeting – it’s expected. You’re not being subversive by climbing up on top of dozens of dudes’ dongs. You’re not striking a blow against the Man. You’re not a rebel. You’re as common as dog shit in a public park.

And others insisted to me that the boyfriend label makes it magically better, since there is more trust, comfort, and emotion. Hey, thanks for doing absolutely nothing to help my confusion, guys.

From a purely logical standpoint (and we know how well those work in relationships, right?), I guess sex could be completely separated from relationships. Look, it’s something we all wanna do, and we’re gonna do it one way or another. We also live in a generation where commitment has become something of an urban myth, and it’s kind of sucky if we’re expected to live like nuns just because someone won’t become Facebook official with us. On the other hand, we can’t deny that for most people, sex is a very emotional thing. Even if there are no strings attached, things can still manage to get all tangled (and I’m not taking about body parts).

Commitment is “an urban myth” because skanks made it that way. No one wants to pay full price (marry) or even half-price (relationship) for a broken-down clunker (slut).

Right now, considering I’m not getting any, the idea of sex outside of a relationship is looking pretty, pretty good. But I just don’t know where I stand (lay?) on the topic. I guess I’ll have plently of time to mull it over during this little dry spell drought.

If you’re a woman and you can’t get any, you have failed as a human being. Unless you’re disgustingly overweight, unfathomably ugly, or both, getting a crotch rocket to lay waste to your seedy underbelly is as easy as walking out the door each morning. And if you’re so addicted to dick that you worry about not getting any, you should seek professional help before you do something that will lower your sexual market value. Ladies reading this, if you are a hot, lovely co-ed who is currently single, dial 1-800-BARDAMU and I’ll fix your problem right quick. BYOB.

But the stupidity doesn’t stop there. Here’s a sampling of truly deluded comments:

i think the whole attachment after sex is bullshit. there’s attachment because you initially felt an attraction, that led to sex. there might even be a bigger desire because you might feel that you “lost” him now that you two had a one night stand. that being said, i’d say random sex is crappy just because of the quality – there’s usually a lot of alcohol involved and the guy doesn’t have any obligations to you

Apparently this chick never heard of oxytocin.

ok, in college, everyone is a dirty skankin whore.. but when that’s all over and done with, you find someone that means more to you and who you can agree to not be a dirty skankin whore with.

and it’s all good. seriously!

YOU are your worst critic!

have fun and live loud WHILE YOU CAN! you know, before you have babies, a husband, and a full time job.

No, honey, it’s NOT all good. No dude worth a damn is going to marry or have a long-term relationship with a chick whose vagina has seen more action then a war vet.

Whoa, slow down Ashley. We are not all in agreement that all girls who are “hyper-sexual” as you call it were sexually abused. I’m astonished you are shallow enough to believe that. It’s so laughably fake that I’m tempted to think you’re just posting that comment as a joke.

The reason people think there’s something wrong with a girl who actually wants to have sex is because people like you are always telling us that’s the way it’s supposed to be. It’s not genetics – it’s society. I’m highly insulted that you’re saying sexual desires (a.k.a. actually having feelings instead of being a completely composed, unfeeling doll with boobs) means I had to have been sexually abused as a child. Stop spreading your vicious, shallow lies around.

Wanting to have sex != being a cockoholic. Whenever you hear a chick using this line of argument, know that she’s in all probability a hosebag. Bring your industrial strength rubbers and don’t forget to delete her number in the morning.

And so ends this journey into the minds of college girls, the future of America. God help us all.

I’m headed back to the States and scenic College Park today, which means I get a 29-hour day while y’all are stuck with the regular 24. Suckas. Enjoy the tabs.

- Thomas Jefferson: child rapist.
- Lisa Duggan cares more about health care for all than gay marriage, and she’s queer! (h/t Renee).
-  Salon lists the top post-college summer movies.
- McSweeney’s gets an interview with The Man. Yeah, that one.
- And finally, aw hell no.

- Congrats to my dad who just got his final security clearence to join the foreign service, an agonizing and intense process you can (and should!) read about on his blog DiploJournal. A great resource for anyone interested in a career in foreign service.
- Kind of Blue is the best album ever. It turns 50 this week, read about its history on Slate.
- Bob Herbert and Robert Reich hold it down on health care and reveals the real winner at this point: insurance and pharmaceutical companies.
- Andrew O’Hehir is not optimistic about some big upcoming movies. And he’s probably right.
- Is Sonic the Hedghog a socialist?
-  Awesome Feministe posts (1 and 2) on polyamory.

Post and comment thread at Feministe on things that give people hope.

Afirmam undeva total greşit şi eronat că femeile din RM, în majoritatea lor se percep ca nişte obiecte, ca o marfă, uneori de lux, preluând entuziasmate opiniile bărbaţilor despre ele, care le valorifică la justa lor valoare (femeia brăţară de aur, uneori e mai necesară decât un autoturism şi altele), spre deosebire de europenii pirpirii şi stilaţi.

Deci acum îmi retrag cuvintele şi mă căiesc pentru afirmaţiile nefondate la adresa femeilor. Asta mai ales după ce am citit pe situl monden Unimedia un articol despre o manifestaţie a femeilor, Coconadă îi zice (eu aş fi botezat-o mai degrabă “Elochika Liudoiedova”). Vaaaai cât stil, vaaaai cât rafinament, vaaaaaai….

Să mai spună cineva că moldovencele nu se emancipează. Majoritatea lor visează să participe la un concurs de miss, să fie frumoase, să fie stilate. Şi liceenele, pardon majoretele, nu se lasă mai prejos. Deci, cu ce sunt mai rele femeile din RM decât cele din SUA? Poate să-mi spună cineva? Mai ales că aici nu avem feministe, şi încă din alea militante, pentru că noi ştim să alegem grâul de neghină şi să preluăm numai ce-i bun de la ei!

Din câte am înţeles, GenderDoc-M e un Centru de informare pus la dispoziţia minorităţilor sexuale din RM. Totuşi, găsesc foarte stranie denumirea Centrului. Prima asociere care mi se creează când aud denumirea lui este legată de problemele cu care se confruntă femeia şi bărbatul heterosexual, cauzate de rolurile specifice care le sunt atribuite şi pe care trebuie să le joace în viaţa de toate zilele într-un cuplu, ori de preocupările feministelor, legate de discriminarea gender, dar în niciun caz nu-mi aminteşte de dilemele unei organizaţii LGBT.

De ce totuşi un Centru sau o organizaţie axată pe interesele minorităţilor sexuale poartă o denumire atât de nepotrivită? Căci pentru un homosexual neîndopat cu stereotipuri, să zicem, nimic nu poate fi mai odios decât teoriile rolurilor, în care prostimea îi rezervă rolul şi comportamentul tradiţional al femeii. Ce ar trebui să afle un homosexual de la un astfel de Centru? Cum să păşească cât mai graţios, cum să lungească cât mai afectat silabele când vorbeşte ca nu cumva, doamne fereşte, să fie luat drept heterosexual, cum să aleagă haine cât mai ţipătoare ca să îndreptăţească segregarea bazată pe gusturi sexuale şi să creeze DIFERENŢĂ?

Nu ştiu dacă am descris corect preocupările şi obiectivele acestei organizaţii, de aceea sper că cineva din cei vizaţi vor face corectările de rigoare în comentarii, în cazul în care nu va fi de acord cu cele expuse. Mi-ar plăcea totuşi ca o organizaţie LGBT să aibă o denumire care să o reprezinte şi să nu fie confundată cu tot felul de organizaţii feminine sau feministe.

Astăzi, mulţi dintre vizitatorii Enervant-ului au nimerit aici accesând mai ales sintagme gen: futai cu negre, futai moldovenesc, futai cu eleve şi profi, futai cu femei foarte slabe, futai cu gay, futai bisexual, futai cu homosexuali, futai în postul de poliţie, futai în primărie, futai obligat,  futai cu fata sa, dar şi multe alte derivate şi variaţii ale futai-ului.

În continuare, le voi satisface un pic curiozitatea celor care au căutat “futai cu negre”. Preferinţa pentru negrese este, cred, destul întâlnită la bărbaţii albi, probabil în aceeaşi proporţie ca şi la femeile albe. Numai în sec. XIX, doi scriitori geniali – Ch. Baudelaire şi E.A.Poe – erau fascinaţi de reprezentantele acestei rase, ultimul se pare că era fixat doar pe femeile de culoare. Se spune că Jeanne Duval sau “Venus cea neagră”, prostituata africană de care se îndrăgostise Baudelaire, l-ar fi infestat pe acesta cu sifilis – o boală mortală pe atunci, ca şi SIDA acum. Este adevărat că unele feministe din sec. XX susţineau că, dimpotrivă, genialul poet i-ar fi dăruit sifilisul, cu tot cu sentimentele lui nobile şi înălţătoare.

Deci, dragostea interrasială a fost, este şi va exista întotdeauna, indiferent de tot felul de rasisme, Ku Klux Klan-uri şi alţi încuiaţi la minte, o dovadă în acest sens fiind şi căutările înfrigurate ale internauţilor privitoare la subiectul pus în discuţie.

I’ll be guest-blogging at Feministe for the next two weeks, which I’m pretty amped about. I hope to keep up the regular blogging pace over here while pulling double duty.

Drop in and check me out.

Qu’est ce que ça lui foute que cette femme met le foulard ou la Burqa ? Toute une polémique de rien, rien n’explique toute cette médiatisation d’un habit qui devait normalement être un choix personnel? Ou sont passer les puritains de l’esprit du choix d’une vision propre a chacun de faire son choix.

Je ne comprend pas comment on peut trouver normal qu’une tapette, une pétasse, un homo ou une lesbienne trouvent tout le privilège d’être défendu par les instances et de l’autre revers on trouve toute une hourde de lâches prompt a tirer les sonnettes d’un danger ; s’attaquent aux plus faibles Une musulmane est là pour qu’on tire sur elle !! On tape sur la burqa, sa porteuse est si faible qu’on se permet de lui ôter ses choix ; parler en son nom ça de la gueule et surtout s’occupe les sans cause.

Cette polémique à la con au sujet de la Burqa et si puante qu’on peut sentir sa merde dans un rayon de 1000 km à la ronde. Une merde est toujours là pour faire le jeu d’une raison d’être pour un trou de cul, des polémistes vivent dans les eaux troubles. Le débat n’a de sens, la burqa est comme le string ; on trouve toujours l’un ou l’autre pour le mettre.

Je suis pour un choix total, la liberté de choisir un habit doit répondre du choix de la personne qui le met, elle seule et sans l’avis d’une tierce personne. Une burqa si ca fait le bonheur d’une femme ? Je m’en fous si ça couvre se seins ou son cul, je m’en tape la zigouille. Qu’es ce que ça peut foutre a un trou de cul de féministe ; cet homme ou cette femme qui tourne son cul là où il faut pas? Qu’il ouvre sa gueule là où la terre tourne sans les enculés? Ce féministe peut bien s’occuper des poils qui couvre son cul

Une pute qui se permet d’être filmer nue dans une publicité est vite traiter d’artiste. Il ne faut pas oublier que les occidentaux n’ont pas connais le sexe qu’après la révolution 68 ! C’est con de vivre tout un siècle sans avoir connait la joie d’un orgasme.

La planète terre vivra mieux sans les féministes. Ce groupe de personne ingrats ; dans la majeure partie des hommes -disons des femmelettes pour visé juste- qui trouvent une joie a défendre les poiles d’une femme. Ce groupe de féministes peuvent bien s’intéresser a des choses qui font dans le sens et surtout qu’ils fassent du vrai travail là ou des personnes meurent. Une féministe doit avant tout se trouver un mari, qu’elle finit avec son célibat choisi ; qu’elle laisse pour le futur une progéniture qui changera bien la vision des choses.

Je préfère une femme dans une burqa, au moins t’es sûr d’avoir de la bonne chair sous l’emballage. Une femme se doit d’abord mettre l’accent sur le respect sa personne et non pas tenir le rôle d’un jouet de marketing, d’un joujou pour les fantasmes d’une bande désembobinés sexuels.

Je fini ce billet pas dire : La burqa est d’abord un choix personnel comme le choix de se faire vider le fion avec une torche!! Toute personne doit respecter le droit d’emballer son corps ; comme l’autre a le droit de couvrir son fion sous les spotlights d’un film porno!!