I seem to have a pension for writing horrible, sex stories. This isn't all sex, really. I've been indulging in more personal narratives though, and it really seems as though kids can't be expressive without saying "dick" or "fucking" anymore, you know? Someone go invent a new genre of teen angst, please.
I don't expect you to like me. Hell, I don't even like me. Sometimes I'm not the strong person I need to be; other times I am the strong person I mustn't be. I can't handle it. Myself. And all the awful dirty things my mind wants me to think. You, I know this already, couldn't handle me + control me + pet me even if you tried. I am a scorned remainder of the minority, and I am always understood in all the wrong ways. No, you probably don't always get me, but no hard feelings, okay? No one can have me.
I can cradle my pain in the palm of my hand and nurse it off my veins. There are so many things my body aches for, can you blame me? I want. I want. I want.
I need to know some of the things you won't tell me.
Why do I still hate my body, I've tried everything, starving it. burning it. straining it. pleasing it. carving it. tasting it. using it. misusing it. I hated it for so long, so I looked for someone to care-take me; first was a boy. He made me promise to always belong to him => in exchange, he would scream love at me. Daily nights were spent with him on dirty sheets that stung my nostrils with traces of loneliness. Wet with our mutual sweat, they would wrap up against us and enclose us. Scattered used condoms would cling to my every move refusing to relinquish their host. Mostly, though, I would lie still and wait in eternal silence whilst every pore on my disintegrating body would leak in masked satisfaction. Love, love, do you love me too? I wouldn't have an answer for the hungry little boy on top of me. Screaming, he would become a man, and I his girl. Say it again. I can't hear you. Surrender needs only to occur once in battle, but in his war-zone bed, it became a constant/continual ritual.
Love hurt my body. The thrusting, the slamming of his softening parts against my self-consciously shaven body never felt loving. I gave him up, but this was long after the pain. Don't underestimate me: it's not the pain that hurts, it's the numbing hatred one develops from abuse. I mean, a little pain never hurt anyone.
Angry and spiteful, I found another sufferer to love: this time a woman. But she was wrong too; her intensity and her fire were scary to me. Unlike the boy, she was fully grown and knew things. She could touch me in ways the boy previous would have scorned + overlooked. She was bold and angry, angry for me; she and I hoped her rage could carry me along with her, but it couldn't. She took care of me, and in return I would need her; I ached without my sister-lover to take me over. I desired her empowering domination, if I had only known how to feel so strongly.
The passion + desire she offered at my feet were lost on the vast seas of white on my body and in my eyes. Then she brought me drugs, so I could see better, if feeling would never be mine. Now the vacant white was green + red + black + blue. She brought me these things so we could sit on the floor in our socks and naked bodies + explore the galaxy. She would laugh + laugh + tell me secrets to life no one should know; all this beautiful knowledge from speed and nicotine. I would play with her hair, which the acid allowed me to see in its true, celestial light. She was the ocean and the stars. All the bleach + pinks + greens from failed dyes would make up the layers to her sea. I could dive into her and explore there too. Her body was the universe, and each curve and cut was a mountain or a shooting star or traces of a dying star. Her cum created planets and life. She was the answer to everything. She was my meaning of life. Then she died. The colors whirred around her one day, and she was lost in them, she disappeared into the promised land with all those horrible singers she loved so much. Janis would be there, + Jimi.
sooo totally not done. maybe i'll finish; either that or simply delete. as usual, this one sucks.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Thursday, May 10, 2007
mommy can go out and kill tonight (wasted title)
I know, I know. You don't have to tell me,
I feel like the negligent alcoholic mother who keeps her kids in the basement and keeps promising to let them out when she's sober, but then takes some acid and thinks it's cinco de mayo for like, three weeks.
so i'm sorry, I'm working on two essays at this second. I'll stop drinking and get my kids out of the basement.
I feel like the negligent alcoholic mother who keeps her kids in the basement and keeps promising to let them out when she's sober, but then takes some acid and thinks it's cinco de mayo for like, three weeks.
so i'm sorry, I'm working on two essays at this second. I'll stop drinking and get my kids out of the basement.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Legalization Wishlist
My birthday's in.. 9 days now? I haven't given the entire bullshit event much thought, but I accidently stumbled into a whole website of books I decided I need. And a DVD too, isn't that fun?
Sooo, if you know me, this is what you are getting me, or giving me the money for:
Not For Sale (Whisnant & Stark)
Prostitution, Trafficking, and Traumatic Stress (Farley, Melissa)
Rated X: A Journey Through Porn (the documentary)
gimmie? =) because i obviously give porn like... a lot of thought. fuck.
Sooo, if you know me, this is what you are getting me, or giving me the money for:
Not For Sale (Whisnant & Stark)
Prostitution, Trafficking, and Traumatic Stress (Farley, Melissa)
Rated X: A Journey Through Porn (the documentary)
gimmie? =) because i obviously give porn like... a lot of thought. fuck.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
On Pornography: the Moralists vs The Feminists
Who has the authority to tell an individual what has been deemed 'appropriate' for his viewing? Is there a set group that should or should not monitor what is obscene? The debate of censorship, of free-speech, and of pornography has raged on with little progress to show for either end. Leading the attack against porn, specifically, has emerged two unusual bedfellows. These two forces have fought the same enemy, with their own particular arsenals of weaponry, and stemming from completely unique vendettas. But both groups have been mixed together in the flurry of their anti-pornograhic arguments; so is this necessarily a bad thing? Is there actually a mixed message in their initial sole message of banning pornography? In challenging the same nemesis, are these two parties even fighting on the same grounds, for the same goal?
Meet Reverend Jerry Falwell; he probably hates you, if you are any of the following: homosexual, alcoholic, divorcing, non-christian, promiscuous, Mohammad, a public school, a purple-and-triangle wearing child's t.v. star (think TeleTubies), bi-curious, or a feminist. A man quoted as saying "If you're not a born-again Christian, you're a failure as a human being" and "AIDS is not just God's punishment for homosexuals; it is God's punishment for the society that tolerates homosexuals", Falwell holds himself as an example of the Christian Right in its prime. On his agenda, taking down the pornographic empire ranks pretty high. The battle against obscenity and porn hit a personal chord with the reverend in 1982.
As editor of the nationally distributed magazine Hustler , Larry Flynt has never shied away from controversy. Starting his career off as the manager of multiple strip clubs, Flynt then moved on to bigger and better accomplishments with the first edition of his explicit magazine in 1974. Featured in every issue amongst shots of female genitalia and torture scenes, were his infamous satirical cartoons, which alternately portrayed gang bang rapes, abortions gone wrong, racism, incest, and sexual abuse: both towards adult women and minors alike, in a comical light. Apparently Flynt took things too far in one issue of his magazine, publishing a satyrical ad for an alcoholic beverage with Falwell's supposed stamp of approval. The advertisment that later took Flynt to court for 45 million dollars featured the reverend reminiscing over his first time while under the influence.
With his mother.
In an outhouse.
"Mom looked better than a Baptist whore with a $100 donation," boasted the caption under his smiling face. In the end, Flynt won out on the grounds that as an American, the First Amendment covered his rights to free speech.
Since then, Falwell and the Christian fundamentalists have continued to make no secret of their attitudes toward pornography. So what exactly does the Christian Right have against the matter? The moralists have admitted their opposition to any form of pre-or-extramarital sex; what this means is, sex is only for a husband and wife (take note this would mean a man and woman couple) to enjoy with one another. Pornography is wrong then, in the sense that watching it mean sinning against your current or would-be spouse. Pornography, the depiction of sex acts between individuals that aren't married, promotes lust, which is immoral. What is so wrong with porn, then, is that "unnecessary" arousal is wrong.
What strikes me as so nonproductive about this party is their equal disposition towards sexual education in schools. Over one-third of the schools in our country teach abstinence-only; but what does this really teach children? Telling students watching a porno can blind them, or that condoms cause cancer isn't a healthy approach to this. Maybe, instead of closing their eyes to the rise of unwanted pregnancy, and the fact "teens are having often unsatisfying and unsafe sex" (Feminism is For Everybody, Bell Hooks) the fundamentalists should focus more on a proper education for their children. Pretending pornography and sex don't exist while clutching a cross and screaming, "Stay away from my children!" isn't working out too well. Teaching students about STDs, and the existence of pornography, child prostitution, and rape could be an eye-opening and persuasive argument in favor of fidelity. Ignoring these real life situations, however, is not just counterproductive, but close-minded and ignorant. And the masses are starting to see this. "Proponents of pornography, not surprisingly, find it easy to defang these brands of opposition through mockery and exaggeration" (Pornified, Pamela Paul).
What Christian fundamentalists like Jerry Falwell need to consider is how the country is changing. In their attacks against pornography, little has actually been accomplished. "More and more legislators and judges have approached obscenity as a First Amendment freedom-of-expression issue rather than a moral issue to be resolved by society" (Pornography on Trial, Thomas C. Mackey).
Now on the other side of the pornography equation, we've got the anti-porn feminists. How do these two groups differ? Well, first of all, there are two views on pornography (for now, we're putting aside the pro-sex feminist p.o.v., that's for a completely different essay altogether) that a feminist can hold. Liberal feminists, although oftentimes overlooked in the Porn Wars, are seen as the most realistic. The torn, middle-ground sister to its more radical counterparts (pro-sex and anti-porn feminism), liberal feminists have backed away from the spotlight; personally uncomfortable with porn, these feminists "tend to be intimidated into silence" (Wendy McElroy). But perhaps a more correct term for this group could simply be "anti-censorship" feminists. "Liberal feminist share the general liberal bias toward free speech, but they are in flux on pornography" pro-porn feminist Wendy McElroy explains in her 'A Feminist Overview of Pornography' essay. She continues, "Many liberal feminists commonly reason as follows: 'as a woman I am appalled by Playboy... but as a writer I understand the need for free expression.'" Good point. This does not necessarily mean these women will go out to a strip club and bask in the lap dances; at the same time, they don't deny that censorship could very easily backfire. The very "victims" of pornography that we are trying to save would, in the end, find an equally appalling fate by means of repression.
I will address some of the various outcomes of censorship on feminism a little later on.
The more radical side to the feminist spectrum opposing pornography, the anti-porn feminists, adopted the outspoken Andrea Dworkin as their poster girl early on. As summarized by McElroy, the body of the anti-porn argument lies in that pornography degrades women, the viewing of such materials can lead to violence against women, the material itself is violent against woman as they are "phsyically coerced... and {those} involved in the production of pornography are so psychologically damaged by patriarchy that they are incapable of giving... 'real' consent." Whether or not all these arguments can withstand an examination or not isn't the focus of this particular issue. More on that will be mentioned in an upcoming essay.
One could say the primary reasoning behind the anti-porn movement could be summed up in one simple sentence: "Porn is the theory, rape is the practice." One of the more famous anti-porn feminists, Gloria Steinem, has said of pornography, "It is sex being used to reinforce some inequality or to create one, or to tell us that pain and humiliation are really the same as please." However, feminists aren't exactly opposed to sex in its entirety. Herein lies one of the major differences between the christian moralists and the feminists; where fundamentalists disapprove of sex before marriage, or experimentation even in the marital bed (as all these are violations of God's law), feminists only disapprove of sex in the context that is damaging to women. There is no mention of sexual arousal being wrong. Pornography scholar Diana Russell has said, "This isn't about being against arousal, it's arousal to degrading material that is so destructive." This in turn leads us to the loophole for the feminist libido: erotica.
Yes, erotica is allowed to turn a feminist on. And no, erotica is not the same thing as porn. Gloria Steinem comes to the defense of viewing this material. As the root word of erotica is eros, the passionate love or yearning for another person, Steinem describes the contents to be 'a mutually pleasurable, sexual expression between people who have enough power to be there by positive choice." The terms 'pornography' and 'erotica' are often mixed together, but the difference in their underlying messages means everything. Feminism was meant to embrace women's endeavors, and set them on a level playing field with men in all things economic, political, and social. From that foundation, one can easily say feminism is all for sexual freedom, which in fact has played a major role in the third-wave. None of the ladies want you to repress your sexual desires, but they don't want you to get hurt in the process either; and pleasuring someone with very little done in return is not liberating, or empowering, in any sense. Feminism sees arousal as a healthy thing, and embraces this. The fact of the matter is, for some women, the viewing of pornography isn't even all that arousing. "Playboy, with its airbrushing and fakeness, it 'deeply boring'; the women are made to look like dolls rather than people. Magazines like Maxim are vulgar. 'Women with abs of steel, gorgeous faces, and big round perfect breasts are presented with these lewd schoolboyish headlines' " (Pornified, Pamela Paul). Erotica can also be differentiated from pornos in the higher quality of production, the more developed story line, the credible characters, and bodies and attitudes that more accurately portray the way real women look.
Another alternative to porn is the experimentation with sex toys. "In contrast to the pornography industry, which is still," as Pamela Paul claims in Pornified, "largely controlled by men and primarily serves men, the sex-toy industry is dominated by women and caters to female consumers."
Alright, so once again: Jerry Falwell disagrees with viewing of porn on the philosophy that it is immoral and "wrong" and Gloria Steinem disagrees with viewing of porn, but encourages stimulation and arousal in ways less destructive to both the women being portrayed in the content and in general. Are there any other reasons why the Christian fundamentalists and anti-porn (and liberal) feminists should be given their respective space?
Yes.
What it comes down to is, feminists and Jerry Falwellinian-types are nothing alike; it is in fact damaging to the feminist's case to be grouped as such. Because Jerry Falwell, quite frankly, hates feminists. "I listen to feminists and all these radical gals... These women feminists just need a man in the house. That's all they need. Most of the feminists need a man to tell them what time of day is it and to lead them home. And they blew it and they're mad at all men. Feminists hate men. They're sexist. They hate men; that's their problem." Well, that's one way to look at it, Reverend.
While feminism only wants the best for its girls, as a spokesman of the Christian moralists-fundamentalists, Jerry Falwell does a pretty damn good job at swaying one to believe his particular religious party hates women; or at least those who speak out, as opposed to work under their "man"s rule. And really, that's what I, as a feminist, work to accomplish. Fuck your idea of my house needing a man, sir. My boyfriend has more trouble reading the time than me (I've passed the first grade, Reverend, does this make me any less of a "woman"?).
Now I direct my attention to the feminists: never forget censorship is a dangerous thing. Wendy McElroy makes a valid point: "inevitably, censorship will be used against the least popular views, against the weakest members of society... including feminists and lesbians." This means our treasured First Amendment wouldn't save our political beliefs from banishment. And this means you wouldn't be reading these words.
Censorship, when taken too far, can lead to the demise of feminism and any little girl or grown woman who dares to say "no". In attempting to protect women, anti-porn feminists must always take care not to let their self-righteous crusade get the best of them; all the work could easily go awry and backfire. Then, after working so hard to protect other women, no one will be around to protect your feminist views, or you for that matter. And no one should have the authority to undermine an individual's attempts to better their surroundings.
© 2007 Lucia Doyle
I started working on this brat-essay around 4 this afternoon (I've been researching since that time the day before) and I published it five minutes ago, making it around 2 in the morning. So.. love it?
Meet Reverend Jerry Falwell; he probably hates you, if you are any of the following: homosexual, alcoholic, divorcing, non-christian, promiscuous, Mohammad, a public school, a purple-and-triangle wearing child's t.v. star (think TeleTubies), bi-curious, or a feminist. A man quoted as saying "If you're not a born-again Christian, you're a failure as a human being" and "AIDS is not just God's punishment for homosexuals; it is God's punishment for the society that tolerates homosexuals", Falwell holds himself as an example of the Christian Right in its prime. On his agenda, taking down the pornographic empire ranks pretty high. The battle against obscenity and porn hit a personal chord with the reverend in 1982.
As editor of the nationally distributed magazine Hustler , Larry Flynt has never shied away from controversy. Starting his career off as the manager of multiple strip clubs, Flynt then moved on to bigger and better accomplishments with the first edition of his explicit magazine in 1974. Featured in every issue amongst shots of female genitalia and torture scenes, were his infamous satirical cartoons, which alternately portrayed gang bang rapes, abortions gone wrong, racism, incest, and sexual abuse: both towards adult women and minors alike, in a comical light. Apparently Flynt took things too far in one issue of his magazine, publishing a satyrical ad for an alcoholic beverage with Falwell's supposed stamp of approval. The advertisment that later took Flynt to court for 45 million dollars featured the reverend reminiscing over his first time while under the influence.
With his mother.
In an outhouse.
"Mom looked better than a Baptist whore with a $100 donation," boasted the caption under his smiling face. In the end, Flynt won out on the grounds that as an American, the First Amendment covered his rights to free speech.
Since then, Falwell and the Christian fundamentalists have continued to make no secret of their attitudes toward pornography. So what exactly does the Christian Right have against the matter? The moralists have admitted their opposition to any form of pre-or-extramarital sex; what this means is, sex is only for a husband and wife (take note this would mean a man and woman couple) to enjoy with one another. Pornography is wrong then, in the sense that watching it mean sinning against your current or would-be spouse. Pornography, the depiction of sex acts between individuals that aren't married, promotes lust, which is immoral. What is so wrong with porn, then, is that "unnecessary" arousal is wrong.
What strikes me as so nonproductive about this party is their equal disposition towards sexual education in schools. Over one-third of the schools in our country teach abstinence-only; but what does this really teach children? Telling students watching a porno can blind them, or that condoms cause cancer isn't a healthy approach to this. Maybe, instead of closing their eyes to the rise of unwanted pregnancy, and the fact "teens are having often unsatisfying and unsafe sex" (Feminism is For Everybody, Bell Hooks) the fundamentalists should focus more on a proper education for their children. Pretending pornography and sex don't exist while clutching a cross and screaming, "Stay away from my children!" isn't working out too well. Teaching students about STDs, and the existence of pornography, child prostitution, and rape could be an eye-opening and persuasive argument in favor of fidelity. Ignoring these real life situations, however, is not just counterproductive, but close-minded and ignorant. And the masses are starting to see this. "Proponents of pornography, not surprisingly, find it easy to defang these brands of opposition through mockery and exaggeration" (Pornified, Pamela Paul).
What Christian fundamentalists like Jerry Falwell need to consider is how the country is changing. In their attacks against pornography, little has actually been accomplished. "More and more legislators and judges have approached obscenity as a First Amendment freedom-of-expression issue rather than a moral issue to be resolved by society" (Pornography on Trial, Thomas C. Mackey).
Now on the other side of the pornography equation, we've got the anti-porn feminists. How do these two groups differ? Well, first of all, there are two views on pornography (for now, we're putting aside the pro-sex feminist p.o.v., that's for a completely different essay altogether) that a feminist can hold. Liberal feminists, although oftentimes overlooked in the Porn Wars, are seen as the most realistic. The torn, middle-ground sister to its more radical counterparts (pro-sex and anti-porn feminism), liberal feminists have backed away from the spotlight; personally uncomfortable with porn, these feminists "tend to be intimidated into silence" (Wendy McElroy). But perhaps a more correct term for this group could simply be "anti-censorship" feminists. "Liberal feminist share the general liberal bias toward free speech, but they are in flux on pornography" pro-porn feminist Wendy McElroy explains in her 'A Feminist Overview of Pornography' essay. She continues, "Many liberal feminists commonly reason as follows: 'as a woman I am appalled by Playboy... but as a writer I understand the need for free expression.'" Good point. This does not necessarily mean these women will go out to a strip club and bask in the lap dances; at the same time, they don't deny that censorship could very easily backfire. The very "victims" of pornography that we are trying to save would, in the end, find an equally appalling fate by means of repression.
I will address some of the various outcomes of censorship on feminism a little later on.
The more radical side to the feminist spectrum opposing pornography, the anti-porn feminists, adopted the outspoken Andrea Dworkin as their poster girl early on. As summarized by McElroy, the body of the anti-porn argument lies in that pornography degrades women, the viewing of such materials can lead to violence against women, the material itself is violent against woman as they are "phsyically coerced... and {those} involved in the production of pornography are so psychologically damaged by patriarchy that they are incapable of giving... 'real' consent." Whether or not all these arguments can withstand an examination or not isn't the focus of this particular issue. More on that will be mentioned in an upcoming essay.
One could say the primary reasoning behind the anti-porn movement could be summed up in one simple sentence: "Porn is the theory, rape is the practice." One of the more famous anti-porn feminists, Gloria Steinem, has said of pornography, "It is sex being used to reinforce some inequality or to create one, or to tell us that pain and humiliation are really the same as please." However, feminists aren't exactly opposed to sex in its entirety. Herein lies one of the major differences between the christian moralists and the feminists; where fundamentalists disapprove of sex before marriage, or experimentation even in the marital bed (as all these are violations of God's law), feminists only disapprove of sex in the context that is damaging to women. There is no mention of sexual arousal being wrong. Pornography scholar Diana Russell has said, "This isn't about being against arousal, it's arousal to degrading material that is so destructive." This in turn leads us to the loophole for the feminist libido: erotica.
Yes, erotica is allowed to turn a feminist on. And no, erotica is not the same thing as porn. Gloria Steinem comes to the defense of viewing this material. As the root word of erotica is eros, the passionate love or yearning for another person, Steinem describes the contents to be 'a mutually pleasurable, sexual expression between people who have enough power to be there by positive choice." The terms 'pornography' and 'erotica' are often mixed together, but the difference in their underlying messages means everything. Feminism was meant to embrace women's endeavors, and set them on a level playing field with men in all things economic, political, and social. From that foundation, one can easily say feminism is all for sexual freedom, which in fact has played a major role in the third-wave. None of the ladies want you to repress your sexual desires, but they don't want you to get hurt in the process either; and pleasuring someone with very little done in return is not liberating, or empowering, in any sense. Feminism sees arousal as a healthy thing, and embraces this. The fact of the matter is, for some women, the viewing of pornography isn't even all that arousing. "Playboy, with its airbrushing and fakeness, it 'deeply boring'; the women are made to look like dolls rather than people. Magazines like Maxim are vulgar. 'Women with abs of steel, gorgeous faces, and big round perfect breasts are presented with these lewd schoolboyish headlines' " (Pornified, Pamela Paul). Erotica can also be differentiated from pornos in the higher quality of production, the more developed story line, the credible characters, and bodies and attitudes that more accurately portray the way real women look.
Another alternative to porn is the experimentation with sex toys. "In contrast to the pornography industry, which is still," as Pamela Paul claims in Pornified, "largely controlled by men and primarily serves men, the sex-toy industry is dominated by women and caters to female consumers."
Alright, so once again: Jerry Falwell disagrees with viewing of porn on the philosophy that it is immoral and "wrong" and Gloria Steinem disagrees with viewing of porn, but encourages stimulation and arousal in ways less destructive to both the women being portrayed in the content and in general. Are there any other reasons why the Christian fundamentalists and anti-porn (and liberal) feminists should be given their respective space?
Yes.
What it comes down to is, feminists and Jerry Falwellinian-types are nothing alike; it is in fact damaging to the feminist's case to be grouped as such. Because Jerry Falwell, quite frankly, hates feminists. "I listen to feminists and all these radical gals... These women feminists just need a man in the house. That's all they need. Most of the feminists need a man to tell them what time of day is it and to lead them home. And they blew it and they're mad at all men. Feminists hate men. They're sexist. They hate men; that's their problem." Well, that's one way to look at it, Reverend.
While feminism only wants the best for its girls, as a spokesman of the Christian moralists-fundamentalists, Jerry Falwell does a pretty damn good job at swaying one to believe his particular religious party hates women; or at least those who speak out, as opposed to work under their "man"s rule. And really, that's what I, as a feminist, work to accomplish. Fuck your idea of my house needing a man, sir. My boyfriend has more trouble reading the time than me (I've passed the first grade, Reverend, does this make me any less of a "woman"?).
Now I direct my attention to the feminists: never forget censorship is a dangerous thing. Wendy McElroy makes a valid point: "inevitably, censorship will be used against the least popular views, against the weakest members of society... including feminists and lesbians." This means our treasured First Amendment wouldn't save our political beliefs from banishment. And this means you wouldn't be reading these words.
Censorship, when taken too far, can lead to the demise of feminism and any little girl or grown woman who dares to say "no". In attempting to protect women, anti-porn feminists must always take care not to let their self-righteous crusade get the best of them; all the work could easily go awry and backfire. Then, after working so hard to protect other women, no one will be around to protect your feminist views, or you for that matter. And no one should have the authority to undermine an individual's attempts to better their surroundings.
© 2007 Lucia Doyle
I started working on this brat-essay around 4 this afternoon (I've been researching since that time the day before) and I published it five minutes ago, making it around 2 in the morning. So.. love it?
What saves this from being pornographic?
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Do-Me of the Day (****?!)
what would you kids prefer hearing about:
~write: -introduction to book
-art vs. porn essay
-pornography under attack: the christian right vs. the feminists
or more 'personal narratives'? I'm up for anything, I haven't made any essay-progress in a few days and that makes me sick.
This is a list of essays i've written/plan on getting into soon. If you want clarification for anything, yell at me. This is how I write shit out, it doesn't necessarily make sense all the time:
Intro to my feminism
The Girl Suicides -> suicidegirls
flirting could be hurting (7th grade sex harrassment talk... why were we laughing?)
My Body -> feminist views on image
With Men Like You, Of Course I'm a Lesbian -> why bi? sex. exp. through sex... feminist is a sexual orientation now?
And The Men Went Wild <- guys gone wild vs. girls gone wild
Grrrlfuckinpower vs. Girl, um, powah -> spice girls
sex ed in school
Boy, Am I the Poster Girl<- xtina aguilara + the trend
'porn up, rape down' article
anti-porn: morals vs. feminists
The Last Dish I Washed Had Your Blood on It -> rad. fem. response to the happy housewife
Put Me Down, Punk -> chivalry
A Little Pain Never Hurt Anyone
I'd really like to get an essay done over the next two days. Tonight I'm working on a sequin-tulle skirt monster, so that should be the only thing I stop for.
p.s. I mentioned writing more on personal shit. This is the likes of what I'm talking about:
Undone
"Between alcoholic childhood mishaps and the circles under my eyes tonight lies a whole story. Between his legs is such an old story. Seeing as how the nearest pay phone is too distant for comfort, I nestle back into black, soft abyss.
You cannot tell me he isn't a beautiful creature. The way his eyes can dart and his lips can curl would make any narcotic skittish. He holds himself with some unforeseen grace and strength; but after knowing him as long as I have, I can tell you he possesses neither. He's as ugly as sin, the absolutely Venus of men. He wants to hold your hands and break each finger one by one, checking lists off in his mind as he watches your face for any sign of life. All he knows is life; he's been destroying his and everyone else's since mine began.
If I believed the red flags waving after our first date, I wouldn't be puking on his tacky 70s style carpet. Staring blindly at his tacky 70s style walls. Or his tacky 70s style cock. God, he's so punk though.
It's so cool the way he wants nothing to do with me.
I can't resist his resistance at liking me. He did me last night after slipping me all those jagged-rough drinks, why won't he hurt me again now? What about the embarrassing bleeding giveaway coming from between my legs makes him blush? I told him I was a virgin, right? Maybe I didn't... But he didn't tell me how he's been drugging me all along, either.
I haven't been sober since he let me into his tight bondage pants.
Right now, I know he isn't even looking at me. I might not be as pretty as he lied to me on a pillow just a few hours ago, but what's so bad about my blood and vomit? He's a filthy rat anyway, why hold back? Come here and come again."
Obviously unfinished. Please, btw, don't start writing hate-mail to anybody yet. The giveaway is that the antagonist is the chick's dad. Don't write to my dad now, please, because this isn't about him per se. The visual-characterists of the "dad" is someone I know from an old school of mine, and I won't get further than that. The relationship itself it based on one I had with a kid my own age (no incest, i promise), but because it's my short story, I can do whatever i want with it. I feel it probably fits the story better the way I've been writing it; and no, this is in no way a subconscious Iwantmydaddy kinda thing. Don't even suggest that, thats completely sick.
Once again, I'd really love feedback. Anything would count =)
© 2007 Lucia Doyle
~write: -introduction to book
-art vs. porn essay
-pornography under attack: the christian right vs. the feminists
or more 'personal narratives'? I'm up for anything, I haven't made any essay-progress in a few days and that makes me sick.
This is a list of essays i've written/plan on getting into soon. If you want clarification for anything, yell at me. This is how I write shit out, it doesn't necessarily make sense all the time:
Intro to my feminism
The Girl Suicides -> suicidegirls
flirting could be hurting (7th grade sex harrassment talk... why were we laughing?)
My Body -> feminist views on image
With Men Like You, Of Course I'm a Lesbian -> why bi? sex. exp. through sex... feminist is a sexual orientation now?
And The Men Went Wild <- guys gone wild vs. girls gone wild
Grrrlfuckinpower vs. Girl, um, powah -> spice girls
sex ed in school
Boy, Am I the Poster Girl<- xtina aguilara + the trend
'porn up, rape down' article
anti-porn: morals vs. feminists
The Last Dish I Washed Had Your Blood on It -> rad. fem. response to the happy housewife
Put Me Down, Punk -> chivalry
A Little Pain Never Hurt Anyone
I'd really like to get an essay done over the next two days. Tonight I'm working on a sequin-tulle skirt monster, so that should be the only thing I stop for.
p.s. I mentioned writing more on personal shit. This is the likes of what I'm talking about:
Undone
"Between alcoholic childhood mishaps and the circles under my eyes tonight lies a whole story. Between his legs is such an old story. Seeing as how the nearest pay phone is too distant for comfort, I nestle back into black, soft abyss.
You cannot tell me he isn't a beautiful creature. The way his eyes can dart and his lips can curl would make any narcotic skittish. He holds himself with some unforeseen grace and strength; but after knowing him as long as I have, I can tell you he possesses neither. He's as ugly as sin, the absolutely Venus of men. He wants to hold your hands and break each finger one by one, checking lists off in his mind as he watches your face for any sign of life. All he knows is life; he's been destroying his and everyone else's since mine began.
If I believed the red flags waving after our first date, I wouldn't be puking on his tacky 70s style carpet. Staring blindly at his tacky 70s style walls. Or his tacky 70s style cock. God, he's so punk though.
It's so cool the way he wants nothing to do with me.
I can't resist his resistance at liking me. He did me last night after slipping me all those jagged-rough drinks, why won't he hurt me again now? What about the embarrassing bleeding giveaway coming from between my legs makes him blush? I told him I was a virgin, right? Maybe I didn't... But he didn't tell me how he's been drugging me all along, either.
I haven't been sober since he let me into his tight bondage pants.
Right now, I know he isn't even looking at me. I might not be as pretty as he lied to me on a pillow just a few hours ago, but what's so bad about my blood and vomit? He's a filthy rat anyway, why hold back? Come here and come again."
Obviously unfinished. Please, btw, don't start writing hate-mail to anybody yet. The giveaway is that the antagonist is the chick's dad. Don't write to my dad now, please, because this isn't about him per se. The visual-characterists of the "dad" is someone I know from an old school of mine, and I won't get further than that. The relationship itself it based on one I had with a kid my own age (no incest, i promise), but because it's my short story, I can do whatever i want with it. I feel it probably fits the story better the way I've been writing it; and no, this is in no way a subconscious Iwantmydaddy kinda thing. Don't even suggest that, thats completely sick.
Once again, I'd really love feedback. Anything would count =)
© 2007 Lucia Doyle
Saturday, April 7, 2007
Joey Ramone Turned Me Lesbian
This is a personal narrative based loosely on actual events... I'm probably not going to get into details about. Almost everyone from my life was crammed in here; so if you want to know who this chick is, back off. You don't know her, and everyone I ever knew was somehow a part of this
"She looks very much like someone who could kick yer ass. What's more, she looks like someone who should kick yer ass. And you'd better like it.
I secretly harvest a hope she'll charge + put my bf of the moment into a headlock, then force him to relinquish me. She could take me home and we'd jump on her bed to Tracy + the Plastics all night long. That would make a better story than, say, 'We met through a mutual friend of a friend.' She could hold my hand just a little too tight while I tell everyone about how, 'and then she threatened to snap his neck if we didn't date.'
She'd be really shy about all the right things, like her childhood hell and where those other four piercings are located on her beautiful body. And honestly, I could always wonder to myself whether or not she was lying about everything. Maybe she wasn't even 19, like she would have told me. Her name could've been Karen, or Sunflower, and I wouldn't ever know the difference.
She'd be my sister, my secret idol, my best + only friend. But I'd never tell her all this; we would only let the secret out when she'd hold my warm body wrapped up against hers. Or when we walk back to the train station after getting kicked out of the show for hurting too many boys in the pit. Or when my lips nervously navigated their way around her pierced mouth. Or when she'd explore me with an inexplicable vigor. I'd always wonder what her real intentions are. She'd be too sexy, fast, or dangerous for me. I would know all this. But who cared.
My family could meet her. Of course they wouldn't get along; they'd mistrust her for the blue hair and hand holding. She'd mistrust them for the cuts on my legs and the nic fits I'd get late at night. She'd mean well, obviously. Anything that happened to me would happen to her, but worse; she'd blame herself for all the wrongs everyone but she had done unto me. When she would finally turn around and take her turn at hurting me, she'd be long gone + would never know it.
Sleater-Kinney would play while we made love. Bikini Kill would play while we drove aimlessly looking for some fun on a slow autumn night. We'd fight over Beth Ditto.
No one would like us, but we'd crash their parties even if they did. I would only find out about those angry looks later. All the boys + girls had had their hearts smashed into the ground by her Doc Martins in the years previous.
When finally we did meet our untimely end, it would be okay, but it would devastate me. No more cocaine and bad acid trips. No more headaches + afternoon hangovers in unknown bathrooms. My hair would have recovered from her haircuts + I would've given up cutting and Cloves for camomile + a nice boy from Lit class.
She would be gone just like that.
She would have showed up out of nowhere, and left me with an old amp of hers and a vibrator. Hell, it would've been worth it though.
Because honestly, one more sentence about Joey Ramone will push me over the edge. "
© 2007 Lucia Doyle
"She looks very much like someone who could kick yer ass. What's more, she looks like someone who should kick yer ass. And you'd better like it.
I secretly harvest a hope she'll charge + put my bf of the moment into a headlock, then force him to relinquish me. She could take me home and we'd jump on her bed to Tracy + the Plastics all night long. That would make a better story than, say, 'We met through a mutual friend of a friend.' She could hold my hand just a little too tight while I tell everyone about how, 'and then she threatened to snap his neck if we didn't date.'
She'd be really shy about all the right things, like her childhood hell and where those other four piercings are located on her beautiful body. And honestly, I could always wonder to myself whether or not she was lying about everything. Maybe she wasn't even 19, like she would have told me. Her name could've been Karen, or Sunflower, and I wouldn't ever know the difference.
She'd be my sister, my secret idol, my best + only friend. But I'd never tell her all this; we would only let the secret out when she'd hold my warm body wrapped up against hers. Or when we walk back to the train station after getting kicked out of the show for hurting too many boys in the pit. Or when my lips nervously navigated their way around her pierced mouth. Or when she'd explore me with an inexplicable vigor. I'd always wonder what her real intentions are. She'd be too sexy, fast, or dangerous for me. I would know all this. But who cared.
My family could meet her. Of course they wouldn't get along; they'd mistrust her for the blue hair and hand holding. She'd mistrust them for the cuts on my legs and the nic fits I'd get late at night. She'd mean well, obviously. Anything that happened to me would happen to her, but worse; she'd blame herself for all the wrongs everyone but she had done unto me. When she would finally turn around and take her turn at hurting me, she'd be long gone + would never know it.
Sleater-Kinney would play while we made love. Bikini Kill would play while we drove aimlessly looking for some fun on a slow autumn night. We'd fight over Beth Ditto.
No one would like us, but we'd crash their parties even if they did. I would only find out about those angry looks later. All the boys + girls had had their hearts smashed into the ground by her Doc Martins in the years previous.
When finally we did meet our untimely end, it would be okay, but it would devastate me. No more cocaine and bad acid trips. No more headaches + afternoon hangovers in unknown bathrooms. My hair would have recovered from her haircuts + I would've given up cutting and Cloves for camomile + a nice boy from Lit class.
She would be gone just like that.
She would have showed up out of nowhere, and left me with an old amp of hers and a vibrator. Hell, it would've been worth it though.
Because honestly, one more sentence about Joey Ramone will push me over the edge. "
© 2007 Lucia Doyle
Friday, April 6, 2007
My Body...
"has been holding its ground during my own personal civil war for the past 5 years"
((ever read the vagina monologues? one section starts the phrase "my vagina" (or something like that) and girls fill in the blanks with their own sentiments. i wanna do something more girl AND boy friendly, and i want to see what different people have to say.
what does a feminist think about her body?
please put yr first name or an alias down? i'm asking to put some answers in a book i'm writing and i want to keep privacy but give credit)) This is an exact quote from a feminist message board I put up about a month ago. Over the weeks I've gotten some pretty good answers from various feminists, and I'm still dying to hear more. Dying for it, seriously.
stylee
« Reply #1 on Mar 7, 2007, 1:47am »
My body... is an adventure. The ebb and flow of weight gain, weight loss, feeling good, feeling bad, looking good, looking bad, and so on gives me new surprises everyday. I like my body. I don't see a reason not to like it because it is me. The most important thing for me is feeling good. I don't care (necessarily) how I actually look. I want to feel beautiful and project genuine beauty into the universe.
Chez
« Reply #2 on Mar 7, 2007, 11:34pm »
...is sometimes foreign to me. I always laugh at how absurd the idea of something so abstract such as my mind, thoughts, feelings etc. fitting into something so physical and it feels like my body keeps them all together like a grocery sac.
Punched By Lady Luck
« Reply #3 on Mar 10, 2007, 3:27pm »
...is getting used to the idea that it's not getting any younger; it's reminding me that exercise and diet are not polite suggestions. I can feel the difference in every step.
elona
« Reply #4 on Mar 10, 2007, 4:44pm »
...is wonderful and terrible, a source of pleasure and pain. Some days I love it, other days I hate it, and sometimes I'm neutral about it. It is always here with me (except when I dream), but it is constantly changing, shifting slightly, and I'm still getting to know it. I should take better care of my body than I do, but it makes it hard for me because it rebels.
Dee
" MY BODY IS MY CANVAS. THE INK THAT IS UNDER MY SKIN, THE METAL THAT GOES THROUGH IT, AND THE CLOTHES I PUT ON IT ALL REPERSENT WHO I AM, WHERE I HAVE BEEN, AND WHERE I AM GOING. EVERY SCAR TELLS A STORY. I REFUSE TO HIDE MY CURVES, I REFUSE TO BE LESS SEXUAL OR LESS ANYTHING BECAUSE MY BODY ISNT THE NORM. I LOVE THAT I COULD NEVER FIT INTO A MOLD. MY BODY LETS ME SHOW THE WORLD WHO I AM. LOUD, ABBRASIVE, AND SOMEHOW ANTI-EVERYTHING AND PRO-EVERYTHING. THERE IS NOT ONE SINGLE THING THAT DEFINES ME. MY BODY IS MY CANVAS AND WHEN I DIE I HOPE IT SHOWS WHAT A LONG STRANGE TRIP THIS HAS BEEN
acidstars
« Reply #7 on Mar 16, 2007, 5:26pm »
..scares me. My brain scares me sometimes. I think of some really awful things and wonder how the hell my mind managed to conjure up that kind of stuff. Everything about my body is scary. its so fragile. I terrify myself by thinking about being in a horrible accident and being copmpletely paralysed and having my brain turn to liquid. The body conveys what we think, we communicate with it; we speak, dance, laugh, smile, cry, and its important for me, to be always talking and thinking and dreaming and using it in some way..so the idea of it breaking down and becoming an immobile bag of organs that can't do anything is my worst nightmare.
piratesmile21
« Reply #8 on Mar 17, 2007, 11:25am »
is a lion on my best days and a mouse on my worst.
b
« Reply #9 on Mar 18, 2007, 6:50pm »
...is the one thing in my life that I will always be able to call my own and nobody can take that away from me.
lezbianthezbian
« Reply #10 on Mar 20, 2007, 10:37pm »
....does not look the way society says it should. This taught me to question what society tells me. About my body, about what it is to be a woman, to be female, to be androgynous. It taught me to reject the eating disorders I could have fallen into, the makeup I was told to wear, and the heels I can't balance in. My body is my own, not a carbon copy of anyone else's ideal.
hollylalaith
« Reply #12 on Mar 20, 2007, 11:16pm »
...Is a site of many things, it is my own and nobody else's. It is a place of confusion and contradiction, but is slowly beginning to make sense. It is a place that has recently experienced many new situations, both good and bad, but more importantly, situations that make me who I am. It is a place where decisions are made about who I am, what I do, what I believe in and where I am going. It is a place that has recorded every little thing I have seen, heard, experienced and felt and has created my identity, whatever that may be or end up.
Suzy
« Reply #13 on Mar 21, 2007, 7:36am »
... is so really strange. I've just started liking it for a bit, after gaining a lot of weight. I'm still a little bit scared of it, because I always learnt that bodies are sinful and that we should be ashamed to have one. You won't see me in a bikini in the near future, but at least I'm no longer afraid of mirrors. And really, I'm starting to like the person in the mirror
Debasser
...is whatever I make it. Weak, strong, an instrument, a tool, a fantasy, made up, dressed up, dressed down... full of guts!
squiggle
...is never the same two days in a row. bad one day, and great the next. it has a mind of its own. i can do whatever i want (eat lots to gain weight, exercise to lose weight) without any effects. i cant control my stomach pudge, but i can control the way i feel about it, which i try to do every day.
varlagrrrl
« Reply #17 on Mar 27, 2007, 4:05pm »
....is a struggle
arienette
« Reply #22 on April 14, 2007 10:32am »
...is my enemy. I fight myself for no good reason; a switch in my head clicks for the worst and some days I no longer want to live. I want everything to end...until it clicks again and I am at the opposite extreme.
((I would love to hear more, now))
© 2007 Lucia Doyle
((ever read the vagina monologues? one section starts the phrase "my vagina" (or something like that) and girls fill in the blanks with their own sentiments. i wanna do something more girl AND boy friendly, and i want to see what different people have to say.
what does a feminist think about her body?
please put yr first name or an alias down? i'm asking to put some answers in a book i'm writing and i want to keep privacy but give credit)) This is an exact quote from a feminist message board I put up about a month ago. Over the weeks I've gotten some pretty good answers from various feminists, and I'm still dying to hear more. Dying for it, seriously.
stylee
« Reply #1 on Mar 7, 2007, 1:47am »
My body... is an adventure. The ebb and flow of weight gain, weight loss, feeling good, feeling bad, looking good, looking bad, and so on gives me new surprises everyday. I like my body. I don't see a reason not to like it because it is me. The most important thing for me is feeling good. I don't care (necessarily) how I actually look. I want to feel beautiful and project genuine beauty into the universe.
Chez
« Reply #2 on Mar 7, 2007, 11:34pm »
...is sometimes foreign to me. I always laugh at how absurd the idea of something so abstract such as my mind, thoughts, feelings etc. fitting into something so physical and it feels like my body keeps them all together like a grocery sac.
Punched By Lady Luck
« Reply #3 on Mar 10, 2007, 3:27pm »
...is getting used to the idea that it's not getting any younger; it's reminding me that exercise and diet are not polite suggestions. I can feel the difference in every step.
elona
« Reply #4 on Mar 10, 2007, 4:44pm »
...is wonderful and terrible, a source of pleasure and pain. Some days I love it, other days I hate it, and sometimes I'm neutral about it. It is always here with me (except when I dream), but it is constantly changing, shifting slightly, and I'm still getting to know it. I should take better care of my body than I do, but it makes it hard for me because it rebels.
Dee
" MY BODY IS MY CANVAS. THE INK THAT IS UNDER MY SKIN, THE METAL THAT GOES THROUGH IT, AND THE CLOTHES I PUT ON IT ALL REPERSENT WHO I AM, WHERE I HAVE BEEN, AND WHERE I AM GOING. EVERY SCAR TELLS A STORY. I REFUSE TO HIDE MY CURVES, I REFUSE TO BE LESS SEXUAL OR LESS ANYTHING BECAUSE MY BODY ISNT THE NORM. I LOVE THAT I COULD NEVER FIT INTO A MOLD. MY BODY LETS ME SHOW THE WORLD WHO I AM. LOUD, ABBRASIVE, AND SOMEHOW ANTI-EVERYTHING AND PRO-EVERYTHING. THERE IS NOT ONE SINGLE THING THAT DEFINES ME. MY BODY IS MY CANVAS AND WHEN I DIE I HOPE IT SHOWS WHAT A LONG STRANGE TRIP THIS HAS BEEN
acidstars
« Reply #7 on Mar 16, 2007, 5:26pm »
..scares me. My brain scares me sometimes. I think of some really awful things and wonder how the hell my mind managed to conjure up that kind of stuff. Everything about my body is scary. its so fragile. I terrify myself by thinking about being in a horrible accident and being copmpletely paralysed and having my brain turn to liquid. The body conveys what we think, we communicate with it; we speak, dance, laugh, smile, cry, and its important for me, to be always talking and thinking and dreaming and using it in some way..so the idea of it breaking down and becoming an immobile bag of organs that can't do anything is my worst nightmare.
piratesmile21
« Reply #8 on Mar 17, 2007, 11:25am »
is a lion on my best days and a mouse on my worst.
b
« Reply #9 on Mar 18, 2007, 6:50pm »
...is the one thing in my life that I will always be able to call my own and nobody can take that away from me.
lezbianthezbian
« Reply #10 on Mar 20, 2007, 10:37pm »
....does not look the way society says it should. This taught me to question what society tells me. About my body, about what it is to be a woman, to be female, to be androgynous. It taught me to reject the eating disorders I could have fallen into, the makeup I was told to wear, and the heels I can't balance in. My body is my own, not a carbon copy of anyone else's ideal.
hollylalaith
« Reply #12 on Mar 20, 2007, 11:16pm »
...Is a site of many things, it is my own and nobody else's. It is a place of confusion and contradiction, but is slowly beginning to make sense. It is a place that has recently experienced many new situations, both good and bad, but more importantly, situations that make me who I am. It is a place where decisions are made about who I am, what I do, what I believe in and where I am going. It is a place that has recorded every little thing I have seen, heard, experienced and felt and has created my identity, whatever that may be or end up.
Suzy
« Reply #13 on Mar 21, 2007, 7:36am »
... is so really strange. I've just started liking it for a bit, after gaining a lot of weight. I'm still a little bit scared of it, because I always learnt that bodies are sinful and that we should be ashamed to have one. You won't see me in a bikini in the near future, but at least I'm no longer afraid of mirrors. And really, I'm starting to like the person in the mirror
Debasser
...is whatever I make it. Weak, strong, an instrument, a tool, a fantasy, made up, dressed up, dressed down... full of guts!
squiggle
...is never the same two days in a row. bad one day, and great the next. it has a mind of its own. i can do whatever i want (eat lots to gain weight, exercise to lose weight) without any effects. i cant control my stomach pudge, but i can control the way i feel about it, which i try to do every day.
varlagrrrl
« Reply #17 on Mar 27, 2007, 4:05pm »
....is a struggle
arienette
« Reply #22 on April 14, 2007 10:32am »
...is my enemy. I fight myself for no good reason; a switch in my head clicks for the worst and some days I no longer want to live. I want everything to end...until it clicks again and I am at the opposite extreme.
((I would love to hear more, now))
© 2007 Lucia Doyle
Porn vs. Art (pt. 1)
This is just my own opinion (mixed in with lovely Akari's) on the subject-- and note I don't have any sort of degree in art, much less a high school diploma yet-- but fuck it. Everything has a start, and this is just another draft to me. Feel beyond free to tell me I'm wrong, or that I'm too cool for words, or whatever else you have.
In discerning the difference between pornographic images and artistic nudes, one should take into account...
The question of quality vs. quantity. On a typical porno site, you can access an entire photo shoot composed of a small handful of poses, or just one girl with different partners. With its few exceptions, artistic photographers seem to sift through multiple negatives and weed out only the Perfect shot, that depicts what they'd intended from the start. Porn will show anything and everything; art wants to control what it is you're looking at, and feeling based on this.
In fine photography, the camera is truly essential. In porn, the camera is only there because it isn't practical for YOU to be there; if you were, the crew would throw the camera aside. In fact, it isn't uncommon for pornographic material to maneuver the girl(s) into a position that allows the viewer to block out the actual man being pleasured. All this is in an effort to allow the viewer the option of placing him/herself into the male star's shoes.
Poise/shape/shadow/form/contrast make a difference to a seasoned photographer.
The environment/expression/and body positioning can make or break the close tie between artistic and erotic nudes.
"Porn is probably the fast food of nudity"
"Look at me, I'm a woman and proud of it" (Akari) Pornography doesn't seem to place empowerment too high in its priorities; the content shows no real emotion. The models seem to exist solely to say "I''m sexy, or I'm innocent, do you wanna do me? Do you? Huh? Yeah??"
That seems to be it for now. Oh yeah, and black + white photos tend to be seen as more "artistic". At first I thought this was just a silly cliche people were falling into, but point 3 seems to cover that explanation.
© 2007 Lucia Doyle
In discerning the difference between pornographic images and artistic nudes, one should take into account...
The question of quality vs. quantity. On a typical porno site, you can access an entire photo shoot composed of a small handful of poses, or just one girl with different partners. With its few exceptions, artistic photographers seem to sift through multiple negatives and weed out only the Perfect shot, that depicts what they'd intended from the start. Porn will show anything and everything; art wants to control what it is you're looking at, and feeling based on this.
In fine photography, the camera is truly essential. In porn, the camera is only there because it isn't practical for YOU to be there; if you were, the crew would throw the camera aside. In fact, it isn't uncommon for pornographic material to maneuver the girl(s) into a position that allows the viewer to block out the actual man being pleasured. All this is in an effort to allow the viewer the option of placing him/herself into the male star's shoes.
Poise/shape/shadow/form/contrast make a difference to a seasoned photographer.
The environment/expression/and body positioning can make or break the close tie between artistic and erotic nudes.
"Porn is probably the fast food of nudity"
"Look at me, I'm a woman and proud of it" (Akari) Pornography doesn't seem to place empowerment too high in its priorities; the content shows no real emotion. The models seem to exist solely to say "I''m sexy, or I'm innocent, do you wanna do me? Do you? Huh? Yeah??"
That seems to be it for now. Oh yeah, and black + white photos tend to be seen as more "artistic". At first I thought this was just a silly cliche people were falling into, but point 3 seems to cover that explanation.
© 2007 Lucia Doyle
sexual superpowers: the whole hole
This is basically my essay I had to put together to keep all my thoughts on third-wave Stripping=power ideology. I'm basing a lot of my book on this theory; it's a starter-thought-process though. Don't hate me too hard if it has its imperfections.
Sexual superpowers
It’s good to have a message. Where would we be without some sort of meaning dictating our direction? But unless we have our agendas spilled out on our tshirts or make our opinions louder than self conscious whispering, realistically, no one will “get it”. I’d love to think I lived in an area where I can wear what I want to wear without worrying about consequences. How is it that I’m flooded with reprocussions for a skirt?
Yet somehow it happens. Walking down my street just a block away from my house, I can get verbally “fucked” by a faceless car of boys. Hell, I could walk down the street in my boyfriend’s pajamas and still get unwanted attention; girls, let’s be honest with ourselves: we are women, and we will always be noticed for it.
I want to say, ‘girls, fuck them, let’s walk out in our keds and bras and who cares about the rest’. But right now, there’s no way that could happen. The moment we step outside our doors, we’re in the same world that values the selling of bodies. We’re in a world that sells lingerie to us, through our boyfriends. We’re in a world where you can be raped, because one individual took it upon himself to change your life for a few seconds of thrusting and coming. This isn’t safe, and no one should lie to herself about it; this, however, doesn’t mean we are going to lock our doors and build a bombshelter. It means we need to go out and change things--not even for us entirely, but for whatever hell the girls we may raise will live in. But to do so, we need to watch out steps; past fumbles in the way of feminism have left mines for us everywhere, and if we want to get out into the real battlefield, we have to pass across these rough spots.
Women’s suffrage had it right; this is where the boulder was dropped into the water. The second wave had its contradictions (to gain the same rights of men in the workplace--we must emulate them?) but the rippling effect had begun regardless. Then the thirdwave started with the hopes of opening gates in the bedroom for freedom; we wanted reproductive rights--our reproductive rights, to be recognized as so. We wanted dirty, old Uncle Sam to unlock some of those drawers in the bedroom, and we wanted to see what new toys were hiding in there. And somehow, this resulted in a hissy fit between the girls.
Do you like sex, or don’t you? If you like sex, fine; but it has to be with another woman for the act to be “feminist” and “right”. You cannot have equality in the bedroom, not with a man hovering over your body.
No!
I like sex, and I like men. What’s more, I want sex with men. And you know what? Now you’ve done it, I can have sex with whoever I want. Everyone, if I want. I’ll show you.
What the hell happened? Because no offense ladies, I don’t give a damn either way. The third-wave mothers, in their feud, accidently set us into a world through a black-and-white lens. You cannot be “pro sex” or “anti sex”, unless you really have never desired an orgasm, or if you really do plan on being lonely for a long time. Even if you make the decision not to partake in it yourself, truly you must grasp the fact other people will. To like sex is natural; where would we be without some people before us getting it on? To like sex with someone you’re attracted to is just as natural; and if you are attracted to numerous people, and you’d like to take it that far with all (willing) parties, so be it. If you, for any reason, aren’t comfortable with sex, and you can only roll your eyes at that co-worker who comes in late everyday with the same rumbled shirt you swear she donned the day before, no one will stop you. Maybe it doesn’t fit your code of ethics to sleep with a man who you met in the same day. Neither party is wrong; and neither party is right either.
It’s my personal opinion that you can’t be the same feminist you were on the street in the bedroom. [As Ludacris so adequately puts it, “We want a lady on the street but a freak in the bed.”] Safety and comfort are as far as the F-word should get you; because it’s in bed people take on that side you’d never want to run into on the street.
The same man that will put on his suit every morning and make that sluggish commute to his high paying, high-rise office job, he could be into some kinky shit. He could sit in a room with Harvard-taught women, and he could scoff to his drinking buddies at the strip club later; but this same man could take joy in a sexy blonde tying him down to his bed and having her way with him. You could meet a complete sexist on the street yelling every obscenity to you to take off your jacket and blouse, and he could get turned on by pleasuring a girl with oral later that night.
The point is, everyone is a contradiction when it comes to their libidos. A feminist can want to see her (male) lover orgasm from a blowjob by night, then come daylight she’ll donn her “feminist face” and take off the makeup and march to the front lines. Feminism is a political movement, and our goal should be to provide equality in all ways possible, not worrying over our experienced sisters in bed with men.
A nameless friend of mine calls herself a feminist every chance she gets; if you take the bait and ask, ‘why, darling?’ she’ll go on a lengthy rant about her completely submissive boyfriend eating her out at the drop of a hat, with nothing done back on her part. Because having a man on his knees, with no hope of gaining the love and attention back, is feminist to her. I think it was about two weeks ago we stopped talking.
Feminist isn’t getting “back” at the boys, that’s sexism. Ask ten men on the street what they think of feminists, and I can guarantee the term ‘man hater’ will come up at some point. Some “feminazi”, I believe the term is, scared the boys away from equality and now we’re back at war. And we were making such good progress, too.
On the flip side of this equation, pornography is probably one of the worst things to happen to feminism dating back to the Roman empire. Some feminists have declared pornography to be stimulating for all, and if you’re against it, you’re just our stiff mothers’ favorite daughter. Most “pro porn” feminists in fact turn very defensive on the topic, and seem to fight especially hard in proving themselves to be “hip” and “sexy” by an unseen code. It seems almost as though they are in fact trying to varify that by telling men they can masturbate to porn too, they should be seen as one of the boys. This seems awfully familiar (second wave women dressing like lineback men to land high paying positions?). Pro-porn feminists seem to want desperately to be seen as ‘sexy’ by the guys. And to be just one of the guys. Second wavers took a similar approach: to be equal to men, we must become the men. Take on their characteristics, go to their clubs, play their golf; women, in their struggle to gain equality, have jumped ship and are swimming away to sirens promising sex equals power. And some crazed captain hasn’t helped much, by preaching sex cannot be a priority in a strong woman’s life; that to be feminist, sex cannot happen the way your kinkiest, dirtiest desires may unfold.
Now, if one more feminist tries to stampede her views on female empowerment through mass/serial fucking sprees... I’ll cut her dick off myself. Using your body as almost, say, a weapon-- is that feminist? Although one is certainly free to express herself sexually without, theoretically, any if’s and’s or buts’, do you think equality can come from stripping? If Donald Trump landed his millions from late night meetings in hotel rooms with board executives, I sure as hell don’t want to picture it. Ladies, how is using your body for power feminism?
A girl, just like a male, should feel free sexually. She shouldn’t need to feel bound down by society as she practices what she wishes, in a safe and controlled atmosphere. That would be wonderful. To practice this, the girl should first have respect, and know she won’t be taken advantage of, just because she wants to find a person to engage sexually with. That didn’t happen.
There are some people who ran ahead and, toting feminism as one of their accessories, tried out the ‘I’m a sexually liberated female on the loose” approach without getting any real message across. Take the Suicide Girls empire, for example. In their introductory page, they get it right out in the open: they are the alternative to porn; all are strong, intelligent young women with sexuality in full bloom, and they want you to know it. And they don’t mind making a few bucks out of it, either.
Fine, if that’s your message, go for it. “Girl fucking power” or whatever. However, if you are going to put pornographic images onto the web, be ready for some misinterpretations. In one case, fuckinglesbo.com, is just such a site. The journal page takes pictures of girl-on-girl action from various addresses all over the internet and puts their own spin on the images. Nowhere in the midst of naked bodies do you see any sign of female empowerment. You see two or more women wrapped in each other’s tattooed bodies, licking, biting, and kissing for your entertainment; you never forget that, they watch you as you watch them.
But if all this is taking too long, and your attention is wearing thin, let me make this quick for you. This isn’t a shortcut solution in anyway, however.
Women should be allowed to wear what they want, and do what they want in the privacy of their own bedrooms. To parade our sexuality in front of the masses has only ended so far in chaos and mixed messages; it could be we haven’t found the correct approach, or it could be this is a message a lot of people just can’t seem to “get”. Feminism is really a fundmental idea, but is by no means easy. It can’t be described by women willing to take off their clothes for their idea of “power”. Yes, you’ve got the attention of whoever you may be arousing, but that doesn’t necessarily last much longer after he may come. And although emulating men to gain their power isn’t the correct way to address the issue, using sex against the one we’re having it with isn’t a fair game either. That will just land the rest of us, sexually active or not, into deep water we’re not ready for.
© 2007 Lucia Doyle
Sexual superpowers
It’s good to have a message. Where would we be without some sort of meaning dictating our direction? But unless we have our agendas spilled out on our tshirts or make our opinions louder than self conscious whispering, realistically, no one will “get it”. I’d love to think I lived in an area where I can wear what I want to wear without worrying about consequences. How is it that I’m flooded with reprocussions for a skirt?
Yet somehow it happens. Walking down my street just a block away from my house, I can get verbally “fucked” by a faceless car of boys. Hell, I could walk down the street in my boyfriend’s pajamas and still get unwanted attention; girls, let’s be honest with ourselves: we are women, and we will always be noticed for it.
I want to say, ‘girls, fuck them, let’s walk out in our keds and bras and who cares about the rest’. But right now, there’s no way that could happen. The moment we step outside our doors, we’re in the same world that values the selling of bodies. We’re in a world that sells lingerie to us, through our boyfriends. We’re in a world where you can be raped, because one individual took it upon himself to change your life for a few seconds of thrusting and coming. This isn’t safe, and no one should lie to herself about it; this, however, doesn’t mean we are going to lock our doors and build a bombshelter. It means we need to go out and change things--not even for us entirely, but for whatever hell the girls we may raise will live in. But to do so, we need to watch out steps; past fumbles in the way of feminism have left mines for us everywhere, and if we want to get out into the real battlefield, we have to pass across these rough spots.
Women’s suffrage had it right; this is where the boulder was dropped into the water. The second wave had its contradictions (to gain the same rights of men in the workplace--we must emulate them?) but the rippling effect had begun regardless. Then the thirdwave started with the hopes of opening gates in the bedroom for freedom; we wanted reproductive rights--our reproductive rights, to be recognized as so. We wanted dirty, old Uncle Sam to unlock some of those drawers in the bedroom, and we wanted to see what new toys were hiding in there. And somehow, this resulted in a hissy fit between the girls.
Do you like sex, or don’t you? If you like sex, fine; but it has to be with another woman for the act to be “feminist” and “right”. You cannot have equality in the bedroom, not with a man hovering over your body.
No!
I like sex, and I like men. What’s more, I want sex with men. And you know what? Now you’ve done it, I can have sex with whoever I want. Everyone, if I want. I’ll show you.
What the hell happened? Because no offense ladies, I don’t give a damn either way. The third-wave mothers, in their feud, accidently set us into a world through a black-and-white lens. You cannot be “pro sex” or “anti sex”, unless you really have never desired an orgasm, or if you really do plan on being lonely for a long time. Even if you make the decision not to partake in it yourself, truly you must grasp the fact other people will. To like sex is natural; where would we be without some people before us getting it on? To like sex with someone you’re attracted to is just as natural; and if you are attracted to numerous people, and you’d like to take it that far with all (willing) parties, so be it. If you, for any reason, aren’t comfortable with sex, and you can only roll your eyes at that co-worker who comes in late everyday with the same rumbled shirt you swear she donned the day before, no one will stop you. Maybe it doesn’t fit your code of ethics to sleep with a man who you met in the same day. Neither party is wrong; and neither party is right either.
It’s my personal opinion that you can’t be the same feminist you were on the street in the bedroom. [As Ludacris so adequately puts it, “We want a lady on the street but a freak in the bed.”] Safety and comfort are as far as the F-word should get you; because it’s in bed people take on that side you’d never want to run into on the street.
The same man that will put on his suit every morning and make that sluggish commute to his high paying, high-rise office job, he could be into some kinky shit. He could sit in a room with Harvard-taught women, and he could scoff to his drinking buddies at the strip club later; but this same man could take joy in a sexy blonde tying him down to his bed and having her way with him. You could meet a complete sexist on the street yelling every obscenity to you to take off your jacket and blouse, and he could get turned on by pleasuring a girl with oral later that night.
The point is, everyone is a contradiction when it comes to their libidos. A feminist can want to see her (male) lover orgasm from a blowjob by night, then come daylight she’ll donn her “feminist face” and take off the makeup and march to the front lines. Feminism is a political movement, and our goal should be to provide equality in all ways possible, not worrying over our experienced sisters in bed with men.
A nameless friend of mine calls herself a feminist every chance she gets; if you take the bait and ask, ‘why, darling?’ she’ll go on a lengthy rant about her completely submissive boyfriend eating her out at the drop of a hat, with nothing done back on her part. Because having a man on his knees, with no hope of gaining the love and attention back, is feminist to her. I think it was about two weeks ago we stopped talking.
Feminist isn’t getting “back” at the boys, that’s sexism. Ask ten men on the street what they think of feminists, and I can guarantee the term ‘man hater’ will come up at some point. Some “feminazi”, I believe the term is, scared the boys away from equality and now we’re back at war. And we were making such good progress, too.
On the flip side of this equation, pornography is probably one of the worst things to happen to feminism dating back to the Roman empire. Some feminists have declared pornography to be stimulating for all, and if you’re against it, you’re just our stiff mothers’ favorite daughter. Most “pro porn” feminists in fact turn very defensive on the topic, and seem to fight especially hard in proving themselves to be “hip” and “sexy” by an unseen code. It seems almost as though they are in fact trying to varify that by telling men they can masturbate to porn too, they should be seen as one of the boys. This seems awfully familiar (second wave women dressing like lineback men to land high paying positions?). Pro-porn feminists seem to want desperately to be seen as ‘sexy’ by the guys. And to be just one of the guys. Second wavers took a similar approach: to be equal to men, we must become the men. Take on their characteristics, go to their clubs, play their golf; women, in their struggle to gain equality, have jumped ship and are swimming away to sirens promising sex equals power. And some crazed captain hasn’t helped much, by preaching sex cannot be a priority in a strong woman’s life; that to be feminist, sex cannot happen the way your kinkiest, dirtiest desires may unfold.
Now, if one more feminist tries to stampede her views on female empowerment through mass/serial fucking sprees... I’ll cut her dick off myself. Using your body as almost, say, a weapon-- is that feminist? Although one is certainly free to express herself sexually without, theoretically, any if’s and’s or buts’, do you think equality can come from stripping? If Donald Trump landed his millions from late night meetings in hotel rooms with board executives, I sure as hell don’t want to picture it. Ladies, how is using your body for power feminism?
A girl, just like a male, should feel free sexually. She shouldn’t need to feel bound down by society as she practices what she wishes, in a safe and controlled atmosphere. That would be wonderful. To practice this, the girl should first have respect, and know she won’t be taken advantage of, just because she wants to find a person to engage sexually with. That didn’t happen.
There are some people who ran ahead and, toting feminism as one of their accessories, tried out the ‘I’m a sexually liberated female on the loose” approach without getting any real message across. Take the Suicide Girls empire, for example. In their introductory page, they get it right out in the open: they are the alternative to porn; all are strong, intelligent young women with sexuality in full bloom, and they want you to know it. And they don’t mind making a few bucks out of it, either.
Fine, if that’s your message, go for it. “Girl fucking power” or whatever. However, if you are going to put pornographic images onto the web, be ready for some misinterpretations. In one case, fuckinglesbo.com, is just such a site. The journal page takes pictures of girl-on-girl action from various addresses all over the internet and puts their own spin on the images. Nowhere in the midst of naked bodies do you see any sign of female empowerment. You see two or more women wrapped in each other’s tattooed bodies, licking, biting, and kissing for your entertainment; you never forget that, they watch you as you watch them.
But if all this is taking too long, and your attention is wearing thin, let me make this quick for you. This isn’t a shortcut solution in anyway, however.
Women should be allowed to wear what they want, and do what they want in the privacy of their own bedrooms. To parade our sexuality in front of the masses has only ended so far in chaos and mixed messages; it could be we haven’t found the correct approach, or it could be this is a message a lot of people just can’t seem to “get”. Feminism is really a fundmental idea, but is by no means easy. It can’t be described by women willing to take off their clothes for their idea of “power”. Yes, you’ve got the attention of whoever you may be arousing, but that doesn’t necessarily last much longer after he may come. And although emulating men to gain their power isn’t the correct way to address the issue, using sex against the one we’re having it with isn’t a fair game either. That will just land the rest of us, sexually active or not, into deep water we’re not ready for.
© 2007 Lucia Doyle
Thursday, April 5, 2007
hit list today
This is American Apparel
and they are going on my list of rantable-shit. I'm excited to tear Dov Charney apart, give me a few days for an essay though
and they are going on my list of rantable-shit. I'm excited to tear Dov Charney apart, give me a few days for an essay though
put me down, punk
Put Me Down, You Punk
When I first began dating my current boyfriend, he came with the disclaimer that it was his way to try his hardest to abide by chivalry. The entire, ‘Damsel in dainty distress’ never really suited me. Maybe it would’ve been fair of me to come prepackaged with a side note in my instructions stating in my angriest, punk-rockiest capitals: I DID NOT COME DISTRESSED, DON’T MAKE ME BE. What’s more, knights in shinning armor aren’t about to come rescue me; not because they all died out, but because they didn’t want to deal with me/the situation when this lady is “distressed”.
Maybe a better way to start off would be with my own disclaimer: chivalry can truly shove it.
According to my friends, this is foolish. Bashing a code of ethics set hundreds of years ago with the “sole intention” of sending a man off to strive towards virtuousness, and the utmost respect of women-- shouldn’t I embrace this golden period for feminism with open arms? No, not exactly. First of all, who said there were only two ways to treat a woman? A man can put on his white trashiest accent and start smacking me... or a man can adorn that shining armor he keeps next to that business suit in his closet, and whisk me away from the fire breathing dragon. Well, I don’t see any dragons around here I can’t handle, and abusing me won’t win me over either.
When I brought up my opposition to the pedestal chivalry wanted to set me up upon, I was shot down immediately. If I cared about women’s rights ever so much, why wouldn’t I want the gals treated well? This logic, I’m afraid, is oversimplfiying the situation/our basic rights as humans; because I don’t feel comfortable being hoisted above all on this ancient pedestal designated for women to sit their pretty behinds on, I’d much rather a man lower me to substandard levels. Well, Mr. Man, what if I’m afraid of heights? Maybe this pedestal of yours is just a little too high. Put me down, you punk.
Is Ani Difranco honestly the only one who understands? In a world of kittens in trees and dainty damsels, what would happen if we let all our shiny knights in on the secret feminists have known for the past fifty years? “Don't you think every kitten figures out how to get down/ whether or not you ever show up.” What’s more, “what if there are no damsels in distress”? This would upset the fabric of chivalry and the “good guys” everywhere: women (and kittens, apparently) aren’t waiting on you to get them. Am I “unfeminist” for refusing to wait? It’s not like me to get into a tree I know I can’t get out of, anyway.
Secondly, respect does not constitute as equality. In fact, putting a woman any higher or lower than the onlooker doesn’t strike me as equal at all; I’d much rather look you in the eye. Equality cannot be gained through women being trodden on, nor can it be gained by keeping our heads in the clouds, where it’s [been deemed] “safe”. I want in on all the action men have seen, good or bad. Maybe I don’t know “what I’m getting into”, but I think it’s up to the individual to truly decide what can be handled by said individual.
A great misconception I’ve seen through interviews and everyday encounters alike is the exact meaning of “equality”. Respect is a building block to our feminist goal, but we can’t stop there.
Gauri is a sweet natured, soft-spoken young lady, in all meanings of the word; a personal acquaintance of mine for five years now, she’s always held herself in a graceful, always respectful manner. She was just recently accepted into Columbia University. When asked of her Indian heritage, she immediately divulged into details of the severe respect and upheld traditions in the Asian home. During the hour long interview, she brought up an abridged version of middle-eastern and asian views of women in the home. “The woman is the most sacred part of the family. And,” she added after a thoughtful pause, “the family should do all they can to protect her.” From our discussion, two things were made clear.
Women are to be treated like gems; they are the center of the family, and whilst the father is typically seen as the head of the household, it’s the mother that must never be spoken back to, or abused in any way. Whatsoever. She is to be protected and cherished.
And pertaining to this point, any woman in general must be respected. Protected from society, and severely respected in her home.
“Would you consider it equality?”
After a pause, Gauri struggled to answer answer; “I wouldn’t consider [the treatment] equality... even though it’s severe respect.” This is not a bad thing, but again, we’re left with that gap.
Really, thank you sir noble knight, for going out of your way to protect me. Compared to other things a man could do to me, that’s really quite sweet. Now, we’ve all been told feminism has reached a stalemate, we’re equal now. So what’s left for a feminist to complain about? The funny thing with this situation is, well, would that nice man who walked you to your door because (although you’ve been living just fine up to this point) your neighborhood isn’t “safe” enough for a lovely lady such as yourself-- would he have walked his close guy friend to the door, then waited expectantly by the door as you went in without turning around [to meet his lips]?
The idea of chivalry is nice; and yes, I would not mind someone “watching my back” every once in awhile, but my girlfriends can do that for me too. And I don’t need a stranger showing me his kindness because he noticed I lack the bulge in his pants.
Respect is not equality, and I for one refuse to settle. Don’t you dare put me up on that pedestal, I just want to carry on a conversation with you at the bar after a long day at work. Eye-to-eye. Nothing higher, nothing lower. Hold the door for me if you wish; only if you would do it for that gruff man on the other side of the bar, or if you truly were listening to our conversation and enjoyed me. But don’t, pretty-please, rush to my dainty aid from across the street when I can step over the puddle just fine, with or without your jacket to trample upon. I don’t need it. Just because I was born with a clit does not entitle you to do everything for me; in fact, I’m pretty well off on my own.
As a young girl-- as a woman-- I refuse to leap into any man’s arms who totes a sword and a white horse. If anything, I might just keep a distance from this creep; I’ve got my own car, I don’t need to ride your stallion anytime soon. If you catch me in a tree, you should probably come right up with me; because if I’m truly that high up, there’s something down there I don’t want near me. Come to think of it, maybe it’s that sword-and-pony guy from before.
Speaking of knights in full-out chivalry mode, let’s take a closer look at the “damsel in distress” ideal. The definition for a damsel is a “young maiden or girl”. Well, what about that raving middle-aged woman in distress? Mid-life crisis can be a bitch too, you know.
(to be continued... because I lost my train of thought)
© 2007 Lucia Doyle
When I first began dating my current boyfriend, he came with the disclaimer that it was his way to try his hardest to abide by chivalry. The entire, ‘Damsel in dainty distress’ never really suited me. Maybe it would’ve been fair of me to come prepackaged with a side note in my instructions stating in my angriest, punk-rockiest capitals: I DID NOT COME DISTRESSED, DON’T MAKE ME BE. What’s more, knights in shinning armor aren’t about to come rescue me; not because they all died out, but because they didn’t want to deal with me/the situation when this lady is “distressed”.
Maybe a better way to start off would be with my own disclaimer: chivalry can truly shove it.
According to my friends, this is foolish. Bashing a code of ethics set hundreds of years ago with the “sole intention” of sending a man off to strive towards virtuousness, and the utmost respect of women-- shouldn’t I embrace this golden period for feminism with open arms? No, not exactly. First of all, who said there were only two ways to treat a woman? A man can put on his white trashiest accent and start smacking me... or a man can adorn that shining armor he keeps next to that business suit in his closet, and whisk me away from the fire breathing dragon. Well, I don’t see any dragons around here I can’t handle, and abusing me won’t win me over either.
When I brought up my opposition to the pedestal chivalry wanted to set me up upon, I was shot down immediately. If I cared about women’s rights ever so much, why wouldn’t I want the gals treated well? This logic, I’m afraid, is oversimplfiying the situation/our basic rights as humans; because I don’t feel comfortable being hoisted above all on this ancient pedestal designated for women to sit their pretty behinds on, I’d much rather a man lower me to substandard levels. Well, Mr. Man, what if I’m afraid of heights? Maybe this pedestal of yours is just a little too high. Put me down, you punk.
Is Ani Difranco honestly the only one who understands? In a world of kittens in trees and dainty damsels, what would happen if we let all our shiny knights in on the secret feminists have known for the past fifty years? “Don't you think every kitten figures out how to get down/ whether or not you ever show up.” What’s more, “what if there are no damsels in distress”? This would upset the fabric of chivalry and the “good guys” everywhere: women (and kittens, apparently) aren’t waiting on you to get them. Am I “unfeminist” for refusing to wait? It’s not like me to get into a tree I know I can’t get out of, anyway.
Secondly, respect does not constitute as equality. In fact, putting a woman any higher or lower than the onlooker doesn’t strike me as equal at all; I’d much rather look you in the eye. Equality cannot be gained through women being trodden on, nor can it be gained by keeping our heads in the clouds, where it’s [been deemed] “safe”. I want in on all the action men have seen, good or bad. Maybe I don’t know “what I’m getting into”, but I think it’s up to the individual to truly decide what can be handled by said individual.
A great misconception I’ve seen through interviews and everyday encounters alike is the exact meaning of “equality”. Respect is a building block to our feminist goal, but we can’t stop there.
Gauri is a sweet natured, soft-spoken young lady, in all meanings of the word; a personal acquaintance of mine for five years now, she’s always held herself in a graceful, always respectful manner. She was just recently accepted into Columbia University. When asked of her Indian heritage, she immediately divulged into details of the severe respect and upheld traditions in the Asian home. During the hour long interview, she brought up an abridged version of middle-eastern and asian views of women in the home. “The woman is the most sacred part of the family. And,” she added after a thoughtful pause, “the family should do all they can to protect her.” From our discussion, two things were made clear.
Women are to be treated like gems; they are the center of the family, and whilst the father is typically seen as the head of the household, it’s the mother that must never be spoken back to, or abused in any way. Whatsoever. She is to be protected and cherished.
And pertaining to this point, any woman in general must be respected. Protected from society, and severely respected in her home.
“Would you consider it equality?”
After a pause, Gauri struggled to answer answer; “I wouldn’t consider [the treatment] equality... even though it’s severe respect.” This is not a bad thing, but again, we’re left with that gap.
Really, thank you sir noble knight, for going out of your way to protect me. Compared to other things a man could do to me, that’s really quite sweet. Now, we’ve all been told feminism has reached a stalemate, we’re equal now. So what’s left for a feminist to complain about? The funny thing with this situation is, well, would that nice man who walked you to your door because (although you’ve been living just fine up to this point) your neighborhood isn’t “safe” enough for a lovely lady such as yourself-- would he have walked his close guy friend to the door, then waited expectantly by the door as you went in without turning around [to meet his lips]?
The idea of chivalry is nice; and yes, I would not mind someone “watching my back” every once in awhile, but my girlfriends can do that for me too. And I don’t need a stranger showing me his kindness because he noticed I lack the bulge in his pants.
Respect is not equality, and I for one refuse to settle. Don’t you dare put me up on that pedestal, I just want to carry on a conversation with you at the bar after a long day at work. Eye-to-eye. Nothing higher, nothing lower. Hold the door for me if you wish; only if you would do it for that gruff man on the other side of the bar, or if you truly were listening to our conversation and enjoyed me. But don’t, pretty-please, rush to my dainty aid from across the street when I can step over the puddle just fine, with or without your jacket to trample upon. I don’t need it. Just because I was born with a clit does not entitle you to do everything for me; in fact, I’m pretty well off on my own.
As a young girl-- as a woman-- I refuse to leap into any man’s arms who totes a sword and a white horse. If anything, I might just keep a distance from this creep; I’ve got my own car, I don’t need to ride your stallion anytime soon. If you catch me in a tree, you should probably come right up with me; because if I’m truly that high up, there’s something down there I don’t want near me. Come to think of it, maybe it’s that sword-and-pony guy from before.
Speaking of knights in full-out chivalry mode, let’s take a closer look at the “damsel in distress” ideal. The definition for a damsel is a “young maiden or girl”. Well, what about that raving middle-aged woman in distress? Mid-life crisis can be a bitch too, you know.
(to be continued... because I lost my train of thought)
© 2007 Lucia Doyle
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
Guys Gone "wild" ((dirrty))
“Dude, Where’s My Pants?” is filled with some of the downright sexiest studs we’ve ever seen on Spring Break. From naked second story jumps into hotel pools, to pizza deliveries in the buff, guys don’t get any sexier than this.” No bra-burning way.
Oh my, ladies, could it be there is some fantastic place filled to the testestrone brim we haven’t heard of? With staked, baseball-capped “studs” full of cheap beer and wielding four inch weapons of sexy destruction deep in their swim trunks? Really all we need to witness this cock-rock show is a camera, our most encouraging baby talk, and a few of our sexiest girlfriends? This is just too great, slow down a minute there.
Toting names like ‘Hunt Hotel’ and ‘Guys Gone Wild: American Jock’, of course multi-dimensional ladies with any self-respect would take this gift to woman-kind graciously. Holding the claim we’ll never find guys sexier than those willing to masturbate for another baseball hat to add to the collection, how could we turn this down? No, first the male-dominated industry of sex gets it wrong with Elexa, the condom geared to every chick-flick lovin’, ice-cream-when-our-man-leaves-us munchin’ typical woman’s needs; (an overly sentimental product that holds our manicured hands as we cross into big, bad sex.) And now they want us to watch the only representation of our fantasies played out onscreen: the “American Jock” drunk off his ass. Funny, after all those cat-calls on the street I imagined he’d be a little bigger than what we’re finally offered.
No wait, I’m not being fair. You can’t judge a porn by its cover, right? You can witness thirty second clips of all the action off their website, maybe you should check that out first. “That’s huge... can you put it around your arm-- can you make it a watch?” entices the overtly over-sexed girl behind the camera. Three-inch drunk frat king giggles, proud of himself, and tries her suggestion. Reality hits him.
“No, I can’t do that.” The boy’s got a point.
“Yeahh, you did!” encourages an equally drunk girl from somewhere in the distance. And we endure another twenty-nine seconds of hopeless encouragement.
The young man on screen is a heavily tanned, rather stacked specimen; his face turns, to my personal amazement, even more tan under his backwards hat as he works with what he’s got. The clip goes on longer than it should’ve really, and with nothing better to do with myself, I focus my attention on the sole tattoo on his chest. All the “Guys” have some tattoo or other and several beach tags on each wrist.
One clip features another tattooed badass lying back, eyes closed to the buzzing room. When he finally ejaculates, the side conversations in the hotel room have already come to a climax of their own. A girl takes a break from her friends to pay attention to him. “Your body is really hot,” she tries. “Wow” (surprising herself) “it’s growing!” Now his penis has gained another quarter inch and the camera crew is pleased, as they adorn him with more compliments.
“Guys don’t get any sexier than this.” Says who? These American Jocks, “Bad to the Bone”, adorning hats and tats, is this as good as our libidos will ever get?
Apparently the average viewer agrees. Every male reviewer from amazon.com-- who, as it just so happens to be, is the only viewer, gave one tape just two and a half out of five stars. While Girls Gone Wild: the better known, and apparently critically acclaimed counterpart to the GW franchise, gained four stars on the same ratings system for the ‘Best of Blondes” tape.
So, who, then, is supposed to bite this buffed-out bait?
“Based on the reactions I’ve gotten, college-age girls, maybe older,” Bill Horn of Mantra Entertainment (creator of the GW empire) explains. “I think it’s going to be a big gag gift, bachelorette kind of gift.” Now I get it: women-friendly porn, geared towards the softer sex, is actually supposed to be quite funny. Is this what the female libido is, a joke?
Well, ha...ha.
If you want to watch some good female-gear porn: American jerks jumping out of buildings into pools naked, delivering your pizza naked, or just plain masturbating in front of an entire camera crew naked, ignore anything I just said. In your case, “Guys Gone Wild” could be just what you needed. What’s $19.99, anyway? In my opinion, you might as well save yourself the money; after all, how much masterminding did it take to pool together enough cash for a six-pack, and ditribute it to boys with six-packs? Ingenious. The product really does just sell itself.
_March 1, 2007 © 2007 Lucia Doyle
Oh my, ladies, could it be there is some fantastic place filled to the testestrone brim we haven’t heard of? With staked, baseball-capped “studs” full of cheap beer and wielding four inch weapons of sexy destruction deep in their swim trunks? Really all we need to witness this cock-rock show is a camera, our most encouraging baby talk, and a few of our sexiest girlfriends? This is just too great, slow down a minute there.
Toting names like ‘Hunt Hotel’ and ‘Guys Gone Wild: American Jock’, of course multi-dimensional ladies with any self-respect would take this gift to woman-kind graciously. Holding the claim we’ll never find guys sexier than those willing to masturbate for another baseball hat to add to the collection, how could we turn this down? No, first the male-dominated industry of sex gets it wrong with Elexa, the condom geared to every chick-flick lovin’, ice-cream-when-our-man-leaves-us munchin’ typical woman’s needs; (an overly sentimental product that holds our manicured hands as we cross into big, bad sex.) And now they want us to watch the only representation of our fantasies played out onscreen: the “American Jock” drunk off his ass. Funny, after all those cat-calls on the street I imagined he’d be a little bigger than what we’re finally offered.
No wait, I’m not being fair. You can’t judge a porn by its cover, right? You can witness thirty second clips of all the action off their website, maybe you should check that out first. “That’s huge... can you put it around your arm-- can you make it a watch?” entices the overtly over-sexed girl behind the camera. Three-inch drunk frat king giggles, proud of himself, and tries her suggestion. Reality hits him.
“No, I can’t do that.” The boy’s got a point.
“Yeahh, you did!” encourages an equally drunk girl from somewhere in the distance. And we endure another twenty-nine seconds of hopeless encouragement.
The young man on screen is a heavily tanned, rather stacked specimen; his face turns, to my personal amazement, even more tan under his backwards hat as he works with what he’s got. The clip goes on longer than it should’ve really, and with nothing better to do with myself, I focus my attention on the sole tattoo on his chest. All the “Guys” have some tattoo or other and several beach tags on each wrist.
One clip features another tattooed badass lying back, eyes closed to the buzzing room. When he finally ejaculates, the side conversations in the hotel room have already come to a climax of their own. A girl takes a break from her friends to pay attention to him. “Your body is really hot,” she tries. “Wow” (surprising herself) “it’s growing!” Now his penis has gained another quarter inch and the camera crew is pleased, as they adorn him with more compliments.
“Guys don’t get any sexier than this.” Says who? These American Jocks, “Bad to the Bone”, adorning hats and tats, is this as good as our libidos will ever get?
Apparently the average viewer agrees. Every male reviewer from amazon.com-- who, as it just so happens to be, is the only viewer, gave one tape just two and a half out of five stars. While Girls Gone Wild: the better known, and apparently critically acclaimed counterpart to the GW franchise, gained four stars on the same ratings system for the ‘Best of Blondes” tape.
So, who, then, is supposed to bite this buffed-out bait?
“Based on the reactions I’ve gotten, college-age girls, maybe older,” Bill Horn of Mantra Entertainment (creator of the GW empire) explains. “I think it’s going to be a big gag gift, bachelorette kind of gift.” Now I get it: women-friendly porn, geared towards the softer sex, is actually supposed to be quite funny. Is this what the female libido is, a joke?
Well, ha...ha.
If you want to watch some good female-gear porn: American jerks jumping out of buildings into pools naked, delivering your pizza naked, or just plain masturbating in front of an entire camera crew naked, ignore anything I just said. In your case, “Guys Gone Wild” could be just what you needed. What’s $19.99, anyway? In my opinion, you might as well save yourself the money; after all, how much masterminding did it take to pool together enough cash for a six-pack, and ditribute it to boys with six-packs? Ingenious. The product really does just sell itself.
_March 1, 2007 © 2007 Lucia Doyle
Things You Say
This is basically my interview form I use for online interrogations. This (sorry, another excerpt) is an interview I had to answer myself, for someone with their own zine. I hate myself, now.
THE BASICS
~do riot grrrls exist today? ((Depends where you look; the riots haven't broken on the streets lately, but we're still in the third-wave. We are still 'the minority'. And we are still treated like it. The cause is there, but our women warriors are laying dormant after the last glorious explosion. The minute you stop questioning + start accepting, there will be no turning back. Riot grrrls still exist simply because... they have to.))
~what constitutes a female musician as a ‘riot grrrl’? ((Because the movement was based on a political view, i'd say a strong political stance would be a riot grrrl must. Singing or writing about (third-wave) feminist causes would make a girl a grrrl.))
-can a female songwriter NOT necessarily be feminist? ((If the songwriter at hand is addressing feminist issues, and agrees to take on the label, then sure. PJ Harvey has been cited as saying she herself isn't feminist; songs like 'Dress' + 'Sheela-Na-Gig' would make you think differently however. So this is really an difficult case.))
-is a feminist always riot grrrl? ((Not necessarily, but a lot of women-in-rock writers would push differently. Let's just go by stereotypes for a minute and say Aretha Franklin's 'respect' put the idea of giving ladies props into the mainstream for one of the first times; this would make her a riot grrrl, apparently. Well, not necessarily, a riot grrrl believes in third-wave ethics... not to say she isn't an all-around feminist, but now we're just getting broad here. It's easy to say any girl who takes off her makeup-- or puts it on-- then goes on stage and screams, sings, or whispers her angriest or saddest or dirties secrets makes her a riot grrrl. This is not always true.))
~can a “real” riot grrrl call herself a ‘riot grrrl’? Would this make her a poser? ((You can call yourself anything you want, but then what? R.G.s were activists, musicians, zinesters, artists, all with a DIY-ethic. Listening to all of Bikini Kill's obscurest songs-- and looking great in those cat eye glasses you bought-- that means so little. Anyone willing to march, + to write, + to yell the loudest, those are the grrrls who started (and continue) the riot. You can call yourself anything if you actually plan on living to the standards that come along with the name and the wardrobe.))
-do particular [new] bands classify themselves as R.G.s? ((I think back then, and now still, the riot grrrl bands we all came to know and love never really identified themselves as such; the term was coined through a misconception and the media swallowed it whole; riot grrrl is so much simpler than saying, 'A grassroots third wave feminist movement deeply connected to the punk rock scene in the early and mid 1990’s. Mostly youth oriented, riot grrrl was neither an organization or a specific thought, but instead thrived on non hierarchal “chapters” set up across America and parts of Europe connecting mostly young women with music, a thriving zine scene , and direct political action.' (the most popular definition off urbandictionary). 'this summer there will be a girl riot' was the first mention of those two words together. But pertaining to the question, I suppose fewer bands nowadays are getting the R.G. term, as it's the media who used it the most, and it's the media now who says the movement's dead. I, however, think Peaches picked up on her cue, the gossip too. True, mama Sleater-kInney broke up, and that's disheartening; but last I heard, aren't the Slits on tour again?))
~so darling, are you a riot grrrl? ((i hope so))
-who turned you on to it? ((A goddess I met when I came into the ninth grade, her name was Celeste))
-how old were you? ((Math? Alright, I guess fifteen sounds good... the Riot Grrrl revolution didn't hit me until late sophomore year, although Celeste had tried to push Le Tigre on me early on))
-which band took your viriginity? ((The first time I LIKED riot grrrl, well the band that turned me around was Sleater-Kinney; then when I reported back to the friend who'd 'told me so', she ecstaticly threw bikini kill and the gossip at me... I'm going to the gossip show on april 14, actually))
-anything else you’d like to add, hun? ((riot grrrl rules?))
~do you think the scene died? ((What a horrible thought; I want to say no. No, the feelings haven't subsided, no we haven't 'gotten over it' and no, something still feels wrong. Yes, the mention of 'riot grrrl' will roll some eyes now, yes we're supposed to be equal, and yes, I miss Bikini Kill. How dare ANYONE tell me my rage can be turned off just like 'that' though. No one can tell me to feel comfortable, if my goddamn 'women's intuition' tells me otherwise. The scene can't die, not if people continue to realize something's still off.))
-may I ask why, either way? ((I rambled like a jerk, everything's up there))
~ why did we need a third-wave? ((why wouldn't we? The almighty press told us feminism was dead, but women were still being abused. We were gainING notice in the business world, and we could vote. But any multi-demensional girl will tell you there's more to it; we want to be treated equally, but we don't want to pretend to be genderless, too. We wanted to have sex, safely. We didn't want to wake up the next morning, then have a random asshole tell us we were whores walking down the street while he inched his hand down his pants as he passed by in his car. Life isn't just lawbooks and print, we needed the everyday asshole to acknowledge change was happening.))
-was riot grrrl inevitable? ((Yes. Punk music was supposed to be the free-for-all revolution for all.. and the boys were leaving us behind. Their equality was never intended for a girl who didn't tote a mohawk and a six-pack; scrawny girls in pigtails with an education were left behind with busted guitars and some sharpies. The punk scene forced us to birth ourselves, while they tuned out our voices with their guitars.))
~what’s the difference (if there is one) between ‘grrrl fucking power’ and Spice Girls ‘girl powah’? ((If? Oh, there most certainly is one. Like a lot of people I've talked to, I completely agree that the spice girls' "message' was a prettier, cleaner, preteen-marketed version of the dirty, grimy, uncensored scorned punk grrrls' version. We didn't get any goddamn t-shirts or lollipops, no one was really making money off our zines and haircuts. our grrrl-fuckin-power was what you'd get if you touched us when we didn't wanna be. we would flip you off, then push an amp on you if you disrespected us. we didn't run around making movies about being cute and giving the peace sign to any living creature on the sidewalk. our names were allison, kathleen, tobi, corin, carrie, beth, theo. they weren't 'baby' 'posh' 'scary', any of that shit. we were in bands-- we weren't in studios, in limos, and in a record-producer's-bed-near-you.))
MILD POKING: WORD ASSOCIATION
First thought-descriptions for the following: (3-4 words if you can)
-masculine ((glistening, fear, bull[y]))
-feminine ((napkin [pad], motherdearest, etiquette))
-feminist ((aunty, sister, revolution))
PRODING JUST A LITTLE DEEPER
My focus points were the fifth and sixth paragraph (connecting states’ internet access to rape cases) and the eighth. But again, you may respond to any part of this article ((First of all, I want to know what a 'law professor' knows about psychology and world history. Now, the same man argues that violence doesn't cause crime because that's too basic of logic, says that porn could stop domestic abuse. Interesting, I'd think there would be other factors involved there, as well. Does it mean anything that with the states that have higher internet access... could it be that New Jersey has a high population than Arkansas? Oh that's right! it DOES have about 4 times the population... could that make a difference? Could it ALSO make a difference that New Jersey, Washington, Colorado, and Alaska are not run by Christian run traditional conservatives? If this is hitting to close to home, let's take a look at the other side of the ocean; "in places like Afghanistan....women are shot in soccer stadiums" He also points out that pornography happens to be illegal in middle eastern countries like the one mentioned; does he honestly think, however, that in a culture where women are already seen as lower-than-equals, that showing hardcore porn, where the woman is on her knees, taking it from five men and asking through sobs and drips of come, for more-- would that make the culture snap out of its traditions? "Oh my God... that slut on the floor, who's being used by those men to have come ejaculated on her face... she deserves some more credit. That whore (as the men in the porn would probably be identifying her as) she deserves more power! yes!" I doubt it. Tradition as deep-set as that in the East will NOT be changed by distributing images like that.))
DRAWING SOME BLOOD NOW
This is that “especially long” article; in short, the writer cites “xtina” as the new Bikini Kill, in her sexual rebuttle to popular culture beliefs of feminity and sexuality. I have my own thoughts on this, and it’s hard not to rant myself, but I don’t think I’m supposed to do that. If you aren’t interested in reading the entire article, I’ll send a few paragraphs that summarize.
“Pop music's rules are strict and strident for the ladies in the house. Socialized through the language of the radio, the dudes are out booty-calling hos in different area codes, putting keys in ignitions, and instructing us to shake it like a dog. Still, amid this gender-script minefield, one of pop's biggest stars has found her way, as an emergent leader of new feminism: Christina Aguilera, she of the honeyed warbles, the throaty vocal runs, the conviction mined from profound talent and powerful personal history.”
“It was last year, when Xtina released the single "Can't Hold Us Down," from her 2002 album Stripped--that's when she upset the clockwork. It was an inspirational anthem of girl-strength that called out the double standard. It was a revolt against the life-sucking notion that for a woman to do as a man does is impermissible, and punishable by scarlet letter.”
“I hadn't felt this deliberately included in such a personal/universal statement since hearing Bikini Kill for the first time. During my brief imprisonment in a Cheyenne, Wyoming high school, Bikini Kill verbalized the things I knew to be true, but what the male punks in my record collection had neglected to name. That band split my world open like a geode; 11 years later, speaking from the anonymous corridors of corporate FM radio, Xtina Aguilera did the same.”
“Xtina's persona, her lyrics, personal action and participation--and, most importantly, the ways in which she self-identifies and lives her message--are parallel to those of Bikini Kill. Xtina's girl-might embodies the collective mentality of riot grrrl, with all its confrontation and self-determination. Spouting lyrics that could have been ripped from the pages of Bikini Kill fanzine, Xtina Aguilera takes Riot Grrrl ideals to mass market, promoting revolutionary concepts through traditional means of the capitalism so hated by RG.” Do you think this concept makes sense: that “revolutionary” riot grrrl views could truly still be anti-captitalist coming from a mainstream radio, that feeds off of the same culture that devours capitalism whole? ((Does this need an answer? NO!))
“As Hanna wrote in the "riot girl" manifesto, printed in 1991 in issue two of Bikini Kill fanzine: "We hate capitalism in all its forms and see our main goal as sharing information and staying alive, instead of making profits off being cool according to traditional standards." While Christina profits from "Can't Hold Us Down," she's sharing information to stay alive...Stripped has sold over 10 million copies worldwide.”
“I'm not too bothered if some people get upset about what I wear... with my videos and my pictures of me, I am not an object. I am in control. I'm in the power position. I decide who I am and it's too bad if you don't get it... or want it." - ‘X-tina’
- is it odd to you, or is it perfectly normal that cited in this article, for all the interviews held with X-tina, were the following ‘feminist’ magazines: Blender, Australian and American Cosmo?
((it would be silly to blindly block out anyone who is willing to take on the 'feminist' symbol, especially someone with as much wide-spread (not necessarily in a sexual way) media attention as "xtina". there are just some discrepancies i can't get past.
first of all, the only cited magazines she interviewed with (as reported by this article, at least) were the following: Blender, Australian, and American Cosmo. If you were to 'come out' with news of yr newly found feminism, would these be yr feminist-mags-of-choice? I can't honestly say I've sat through an entire issue of cosmo, but to my knowledge, there doesn't seem to be feminism and empowerment crammed into any of their flashy advertisments for perfume or makeup or their covery story on what "hair style will turn your man on". i'm probably wrong though, considering i can't stand most of the stuff they try to pour down my throat, i'd rather stick to bitch, venus, bust, underground zines and things of that sort, if i want to see any hint of 'feminism enlightenment'.
secondly, i'm confused. i understand the whole 'i'll wear what i'll wear, and you can get off my case about it. as a woman, i have the right to wear what i feel comfortable in, and you can't tell me to wear that same t-shirt and jeans i wore a few years ago.' hell, i'll wear what i wanna wear, you know? HOWEVER, this is where things can get cloudy: toting the feminist name as just another accessory when you go out into the world isn't the way to treat it either. xtina claims to wear what SHE deems sexy... but it looks awfully similar to what all those men who buy her pinup posters and nude issues of maxim are calling sexy. who is she really doing this for, i can't help but wonder. who's idea of 'sexY" does she callher own?
I'm not seeing any empowerment in her ass-less chaps.))
SEXY BLOODY RESEARCH
the following is an excerpt from Pamela Paul’s Pornified. It will cover, in short, a male chatroom on a particular pornographic site.
“By commenting on women as a group, men keep women at a distance, parading their masculinity and proving their potency to one another, and to themselves...
‘Bjoobies!! I love dem Asian features,’ exclaims one man in a bulletin board of responses to a series of online photos showing a half-Asian,half-Caucasian woman, dubbed ‘Kitana,’ frolicking naked in a bathtub. ‘Damnit,’ writes another man. ‘I thought it was Kitana Baker... oh well this chick is still decent enough. She has a weird midriff though.’ He’s not alone in his opnion. ‘Looks like she’s had a few too many sandwiches!!!’ exclaims another viewer. ‘or she needs to stick to light beer!! She has no waistline-- goes straight down from her shoulders!!!’ A third man chimes in, ‘She does nuthin 4 me. Maybe the fugliness, i don’t know.’ A man who calls himself ‘Drexel’ agrees. He writes:
I’m confused. Whose idea of beauty are we subject to? What are the qual-
ifications needed to get one’s boobies on [this site]? The reason I ask, is that there doesn’t seem to be anything extraordinary about this particular young lady. No shocking hair color, exceptional beauty, fancy outfit, giant boobs, etc, etc, that seperate her from any other bathing booty. She’s fine,
I’d hit it and all but, I’m sure I could find 50 more interesting versions with-
in a few keystrokes.
... Another Web site, another forum: a blonde peels off her white bustier, French-cut bikini, and garters in a fram-by frame monstage, ending with her legs spread wide. She poses from the front, and now from the back, squatting, lying down, smiling. ‘I dunno, man, her face is screwy... The eyes/eyebrow combination is off one way or another,’ writes one observer. ‘What’s up with the beaver rash?’ asks a second. ‘Nice granny panties,’ sneers a third, the self-proclaimed I Dig Chicks. yet another viewer piles on: ‘This chick’s boobies are weird. how come her nipples aren’t somewhat centered within her areolas? I don’t think ever seen that before.’ Nobody seems to like the blonde very much... When one man complains that the others are being unduly harsh, a debate breaks out on the baord. ‘Any skank who appears naked on the internet automatically gains immunity from criticism?’ replies a poster. ‘I’ve seen plenty of nasty mean [online] that I wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole... Actually, now that I think of it, you’re right, from now on I’ll commence heaping praise on every used up skanky butterface implant ridden ho-bag that gets posted here.’
This isn’t quite the aesthetic appreciation that men make pornography viewing out to be, nor does it seem to be about men loving women. Comments in such porn forums generally fall into two categories: whether the viewer would have sex with the woman depicted or not and whether the image inspired him to masturabte, accompanied by a dissection of the woman’s attributes that turned him on. The prettiness of her face, the curve of her ass, whether she’s been too airbrushed or not airbrushed enough.”
(That was long, I’m sorry.)
-Any thoughts on the selected text? ((That's completely disgusting. Any woman who tells me putting images of herself onto the internet is empowering, or showing her tits for five dollars a month will get her some hard-earned feminist power, is being ridiculous. Pornography, this is an abridged version of my opinion, is just a way for men who couldn't score with the 'fugliest' of the girls they criticize to gather in awkward groups and point and stare. This is upsetting to me, and I don't find anything "equal" about what they were saying. We have not achieved equality yet, and this is just rubbing it in my face now.))
© 2007 Lucia Doyle
THE BASICS
~do riot grrrls exist today? ((Depends where you look; the riots haven't broken on the streets lately, but we're still in the third-wave. We are still 'the minority'. And we are still treated like it. The cause is there, but our women warriors are laying dormant after the last glorious explosion. The minute you stop questioning + start accepting, there will be no turning back. Riot grrrls still exist simply because... they have to.))
~what constitutes a female musician as a ‘riot grrrl’? ((Because the movement was based on a political view, i'd say a strong political stance would be a riot grrrl must. Singing or writing about (third-wave) feminist causes would make a girl a grrrl.))
-can a female songwriter NOT necessarily be feminist? ((If the songwriter at hand is addressing feminist issues, and agrees to take on the label, then sure. PJ Harvey has been cited as saying she herself isn't feminist; songs like 'Dress' + 'Sheela-Na-Gig' would make you think differently however. So this is really an difficult case.))
-is a feminist always riot grrrl? ((Not necessarily, but a lot of women-in-rock writers would push differently. Let's just go by stereotypes for a minute and say Aretha Franklin's 'respect' put the idea of giving ladies props into the mainstream for one of the first times; this would make her a riot grrrl, apparently. Well, not necessarily, a riot grrrl believes in third-wave ethics... not to say she isn't an all-around feminist, but now we're just getting broad here. It's easy to say any girl who takes off her makeup-- or puts it on-- then goes on stage and screams, sings, or whispers her angriest or saddest or dirties secrets makes her a riot grrrl. This is not always true.))
~can a “real” riot grrrl call herself a ‘riot grrrl’? Would this make her a poser? ((You can call yourself anything you want, but then what? R.G.s were activists, musicians, zinesters, artists, all with a DIY-ethic. Listening to all of Bikini Kill's obscurest songs-- and looking great in those cat eye glasses you bought-- that means so little. Anyone willing to march, + to write, + to yell the loudest, those are the grrrls who started (and continue) the riot. You can call yourself anything if you actually plan on living to the standards that come along with the name and the wardrobe.))
-do particular [new] bands classify themselves as R.G.s? ((I think back then, and now still, the riot grrrl bands we all came to know and love never really identified themselves as such; the term was coined through a misconception and the media swallowed it whole; riot grrrl is so much simpler than saying, 'A grassroots third wave feminist movement deeply connected to the punk rock scene in the early and mid 1990’s. Mostly youth oriented, riot grrrl was neither an organization or a specific thought, but instead thrived on non hierarchal “chapters” set up across America and parts of Europe connecting mostly young women with music, a thriving zine scene , and direct political action.' (the most popular definition off urbandictionary). 'this summer there will be a girl riot' was the first mention of those two words together. But pertaining to the question, I suppose fewer bands nowadays are getting the R.G. term, as it's the media who used it the most, and it's the media now who says the movement's dead. I, however, think Peaches picked up on her cue, the gossip too. True, mama Sleater-kInney broke up, and that's disheartening; but last I heard, aren't the Slits on tour again?))
~so darling, are you a riot grrrl? ((i hope so))
-who turned you on to it? ((A goddess I met when I came into the ninth grade, her name was Celeste))
-how old were you? ((Math? Alright, I guess fifteen sounds good... the Riot Grrrl revolution didn't hit me until late sophomore year, although Celeste had tried to push Le Tigre on me early on))
-which band took your viriginity? ((The first time I LIKED riot grrrl, well the band that turned me around was Sleater-Kinney; then when I reported back to the friend who'd 'told me so', she ecstaticly threw bikini kill and the gossip at me... I'm going to the gossip show on april 14, actually))
-anything else you’d like to add, hun? ((riot grrrl rules?))
~do you think the scene died? ((What a horrible thought; I want to say no. No, the feelings haven't subsided, no we haven't 'gotten over it' and no, something still feels wrong. Yes, the mention of 'riot grrrl' will roll some eyes now, yes we're supposed to be equal, and yes, I miss Bikini Kill. How dare ANYONE tell me my rage can be turned off just like 'that' though. No one can tell me to feel comfortable, if my goddamn 'women's intuition' tells me otherwise. The scene can't die, not if people continue to realize something's still off.))
-may I ask why, either way? ((I rambled like a jerk, everything's up there))
~ why did we need a third-wave? ((why wouldn't we? The almighty press told us feminism was dead, but women were still being abused. We were gainING notice in the business world, and we could vote. But any multi-demensional girl will tell you there's more to it; we want to be treated equally, but we don't want to pretend to be genderless, too. We wanted to have sex, safely. We didn't want to wake up the next morning, then have a random asshole tell us we were whores walking down the street while he inched his hand down his pants as he passed by in his car. Life isn't just lawbooks and print, we needed the everyday asshole to acknowledge change was happening.))
-was riot grrrl inevitable? ((Yes. Punk music was supposed to be the free-for-all revolution for all.. and the boys were leaving us behind. Their equality was never intended for a girl who didn't tote a mohawk and a six-pack; scrawny girls in pigtails with an education were left behind with busted guitars and some sharpies. The punk scene forced us to birth ourselves, while they tuned out our voices with their guitars.))
~what’s the difference (if there is one) between ‘grrrl fucking power’ and Spice Girls ‘girl powah’? ((If? Oh, there most certainly is one. Like a lot of people I've talked to, I completely agree that the spice girls' "message' was a prettier, cleaner, preteen-marketed version of the dirty, grimy, uncensored scorned punk grrrls' version. We didn't get any goddamn t-shirts or lollipops, no one was really making money off our zines and haircuts. our grrrl-fuckin-power was what you'd get if you touched us when we didn't wanna be. we would flip you off, then push an amp on you if you disrespected us. we didn't run around making movies about being cute and giving the peace sign to any living creature on the sidewalk. our names were allison, kathleen, tobi, corin, carrie, beth, theo. they weren't 'baby' 'posh' 'scary', any of that shit. we were in bands-- we weren't in studios, in limos, and in a record-producer's-bed-near-you.))
MILD POKING: WORD ASSOCIATION
First thought-descriptions for the following: (3-4 words if you can)
-masculine ((glistening, fear, bull[y]))
-feminine ((napkin [pad], motherdearest, etiquette))
-feminist ((aunty, sister, revolution))
PRODING JUST A LITTLE DEEPER
My focus points were the fifth and sixth paragraph (connecting states’ internet access to rape cases) and the eighth. But again, you may respond to any part of this article ((First of all, I want to know what a 'law professor' knows about psychology and world history. Now, the same man argues that violence doesn't cause crime because that's too basic of logic, says that porn could stop domestic abuse. Interesting, I'd think there would be other factors involved there, as well. Does it mean anything that with the states that have higher internet access... could it be that New Jersey has a high population than Arkansas? Oh that's right! it DOES have about 4 times the population... could that make a difference? Could it ALSO make a difference that New Jersey, Washington, Colorado, and Alaska are not run by Christian run traditional conservatives? If this is hitting to close to home, let's take a look at the other side of the ocean; "in places like Afghanistan....women are shot in soccer stadiums" He also points out that pornography happens to be illegal in middle eastern countries like the one mentioned; does he honestly think, however, that in a culture where women are already seen as lower-than-equals, that showing hardcore porn, where the woman is on her knees, taking it from five men and asking through sobs and drips of come, for more-- would that make the culture snap out of its traditions? "Oh my God... that slut on the floor, who's being used by those men to have come ejaculated on her face... she deserves some more credit. That whore (as the men in the porn would probably be identifying her as) she deserves more power! yes!" I doubt it. Tradition as deep-set as that in the East will NOT be changed by distributing images like that.))
DRAWING SOME BLOOD NOW
This is that “especially long” article; in short, the writer cites “xtina” as the new Bikini Kill, in her sexual rebuttle to popular culture beliefs of feminity and sexuality. I have my own thoughts on this, and it’s hard not to rant myself, but I don’t think I’m supposed to do that. If you aren’t interested in reading the entire article, I’ll send a few paragraphs that summarize.
“Pop music's rules are strict and strident for the ladies in the house. Socialized through the language of the radio, the dudes are out booty-calling hos in different area codes, putting keys in ignitions, and instructing us to shake it like a dog. Still, amid this gender-script minefield, one of pop's biggest stars has found her way, as an emergent leader of new feminism: Christina Aguilera, she of the honeyed warbles, the throaty vocal runs, the conviction mined from profound talent and powerful personal history.”
“It was last year, when Xtina released the single "Can't Hold Us Down," from her 2002 album Stripped--that's when she upset the clockwork. It was an inspirational anthem of girl-strength that called out the double standard. It was a revolt against the life-sucking notion that for a woman to do as a man does is impermissible, and punishable by scarlet letter.”
“I hadn't felt this deliberately included in such a personal/universal statement since hearing Bikini Kill for the first time. During my brief imprisonment in a Cheyenne, Wyoming high school, Bikini Kill verbalized the things I knew to be true, but what the male punks in my record collection had neglected to name. That band split my world open like a geode; 11 years later, speaking from the anonymous corridors of corporate FM radio, Xtina Aguilera did the same.”
“Xtina's persona, her lyrics, personal action and participation--and, most importantly, the ways in which she self-identifies and lives her message--are parallel to those of Bikini Kill. Xtina's girl-might embodies the collective mentality of riot grrrl, with all its confrontation and self-determination. Spouting lyrics that could have been ripped from the pages of Bikini Kill fanzine, Xtina Aguilera takes Riot Grrrl ideals to mass market, promoting revolutionary concepts through traditional means of the capitalism so hated by RG.” Do you think this concept makes sense: that “revolutionary” riot grrrl views could truly still be anti-captitalist coming from a mainstream radio, that feeds off of the same culture that devours capitalism whole? ((Does this need an answer? NO!))
“As Hanna wrote in the "riot girl" manifesto, printed in 1991 in issue two of Bikini Kill fanzine: "We hate capitalism in all its forms and see our main goal as sharing information and staying alive, instead of making profits off being cool according to traditional standards." While Christina profits from "Can't Hold Us Down," she's sharing information to stay alive...Stripped has sold over 10 million copies worldwide.”
“I'm not too bothered if some people get upset about what I wear... with my videos and my pictures of me, I am not an object. I am in control. I'm in the power position. I decide who I am and it's too bad if you don't get it... or want it." - ‘X-tina’
- is it odd to you, or is it perfectly normal that cited in this article, for all the interviews held with X-tina, were the following ‘feminist’ magazines: Blender, Australian and American Cosmo?
((it would be silly to blindly block out anyone who is willing to take on the 'feminist' symbol, especially someone with as much wide-spread (not necessarily in a sexual way) media attention as "xtina". there are just some discrepancies i can't get past.
first of all, the only cited magazines she interviewed with (as reported by this article, at least) were the following: Blender, Australian, and American Cosmo. If you were to 'come out' with news of yr newly found feminism, would these be yr feminist-mags-of-choice? I can't honestly say I've sat through an entire issue of cosmo, but to my knowledge, there doesn't seem to be feminism and empowerment crammed into any of their flashy advertisments for perfume or makeup or their covery story on what "hair style will turn your man on". i'm probably wrong though, considering i can't stand most of the stuff they try to pour down my throat, i'd rather stick to bitch, venus, bust, underground zines and things of that sort, if i want to see any hint of 'feminism enlightenment'.
secondly, i'm confused. i understand the whole 'i'll wear what i'll wear, and you can get off my case about it. as a woman, i have the right to wear what i feel comfortable in, and you can't tell me to wear that same t-shirt and jeans i wore a few years ago.' hell, i'll wear what i wanna wear, you know? HOWEVER, this is where things can get cloudy: toting the feminist name as just another accessory when you go out into the world isn't the way to treat it either. xtina claims to wear what SHE deems sexy... but it looks awfully similar to what all those men who buy her pinup posters and nude issues of maxim are calling sexy. who is she really doing this for, i can't help but wonder. who's idea of 'sexY" does she callher own?
I'm not seeing any empowerment in her ass-less chaps.))
SEXY BLOODY RESEARCH
the following is an excerpt from Pamela Paul’s Pornified. It will cover, in short, a male chatroom on a particular pornographic site.
“By commenting on women as a group, men keep women at a distance, parading their masculinity and proving their potency to one another, and to themselves...
‘Bjoobies!! I love dem Asian features,’ exclaims one man in a bulletin board of responses to a series of online photos showing a half-Asian,half-Caucasian woman, dubbed ‘Kitana,’ frolicking naked in a bathtub. ‘Damnit,’ writes another man. ‘I thought it was Kitana Baker... oh well this chick is still decent enough. She has a weird midriff though.’ He’s not alone in his opnion. ‘Looks like she’s had a few too many sandwiches!!!’ exclaims another viewer. ‘or she needs to stick to light beer!! She has no waistline-- goes straight down from her shoulders!!!’ A third man chimes in, ‘She does nuthin 4 me. Maybe the fugliness, i don’t know.’ A man who calls himself ‘Drexel’ agrees. He writes:
I’m confused. Whose idea of beauty are we subject to? What are the qual-
ifications needed to get one’s boobies on [this site]? The reason I ask, is that there doesn’t seem to be anything extraordinary about this particular young lady. No shocking hair color, exceptional beauty, fancy outfit, giant boobs, etc, etc, that seperate her from any other bathing booty. She’s fine,
I’d hit it and all but, I’m sure I could find 50 more interesting versions with-
in a few keystrokes.
... Another Web site, another forum: a blonde peels off her white bustier, French-cut bikini, and garters in a fram-by frame monstage, ending with her legs spread wide. She poses from the front, and now from the back, squatting, lying down, smiling. ‘I dunno, man, her face is screwy... The eyes/eyebrow combination is off one way or another,’ writes one observer. ‘What’s up with the beaver rash?’ asks a second. ‘Nice granny panties,’ sneers a third, the self-proclaimed I Dig Chicks. yet another viewer piles on: ‘This chick’s boobies are weird. how come her nipples aren’t somewhat centered within her areolas? I don’t think ever seen that before.’ Nobody seems to like the blonde very much... When one man complains that the others are being unduly harsh, a debate breaks out on the baord. ‘Any skank who appears naked on the internet automatically gains immunity from criticism?’ replies a poster. ‘I’ve seen plenty of nasty mean [online] that I wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole... Actually, now that I think of it, you’re right, from now on I’ll commence heaping praise on every used up skanky butterface implant ridden ho-bag that gets posted here.’
This isn’t quite the aesthetic appreciation that men make pornography viewing out to be, nor does it seem to be about men loving women. Comments in such porn forums generally fall into two categories: whether the viewer would have sex with the woman depicted or not and whether the image inspired him to masturabte, accompanied by a dissection of the woman’s attributes that turned him on. The prettiness of her face, the curve of her ass, whether she’s been too airbrushed or not airbrushed enough.”
(That was long, I’m sorry.)
-Any thoughts on the selected text? ((That's completely disgusting. Any woman who tells me putting images of herself onto the internet is empowering, or showing her tits for five dollars a month will get her some hard-earned feminist power, is being ridiculous. Pornography, this is an abridged version of my opinion, is just a way for men who couldn't score with the 'fugliest' of the girls they criticize to gather in awkward groups and point and stare. This is upsetting to me, and I don't find anything "equal" about what they were saying. We have not achieved equality yet, and this is just rubbing it in my face now.))
© 2007 Lucia Doyle
Shut me Up
Silly me.
I completely forgot.
My name is Lucy, I'm turning legal in 25 days or so, I could go for another root beer (4 for $1 at Shop Rite, you know), and I'm cute. And I'm writing a book on third-wave feminism; that's really why you should be reading this.
"I'm an 18 year old Jersey chick writing about third-wave feminism; for the past few months I've been interviewing feminists, lame anti-feminists, filmmakers, musicians, magazine editors, anyone I could find with an opinion. My writing project with put emphasis on the third-wave (with background history on the prior two waves), the kids that grew up in it, what the wave got wrong/right, who was overlooked/gained more credit than necessary, where feminism can go from here. I'll also try to touch on misconceptions of feminists, both from inside and outside the scene.
In addition, I wanted to talk about porn and what that's done to the feminist agenda" That came from an e-mail I sent to a writer last month, and that explains it all. My angelfire page (my first page, and it looks like it, so be nice) does a more thorough job of explaining myself. Fuck it, there's a good chance you might not check out my link; so...
"The book will break down as follows:
the history and analysis of feminism
personal views pertaining to feminism, from grrrls and bois at an "insider's" perspective, and those of girls and boys from an outside view
objections and praise of third-wavers
important literature, music, and citizens of the feminism world
an answer to the question "is feminism dead?" with suggestions for revitalization
a look at the problems no one bothered to answer yet
This book will be 40% bearing of my own soul and thoughts on particular issues, 50% history, and critiques from pro-and-anti feminists, and 10% history lesson and suggestions for surviving in a "post feminist" world.
Because this book is based so much on other girls and boys, men and women, interviews and contributions are appreciated at this point." Contributions = interviews, and personal essays from friendly people with very little else to do.
I promise I'll get more original later. This was my background and reasoning though, for whining about feminism as I plan to. Maybe I'll start putting up essays I'm basing the book around.
© 2007 Lucia Doyle
I completely forgot.
My name is Lucy, I'm turning legal in 25 days or so, I could go for another root beer (4 for $1 at Shop Rite, you know), and I'm cute. And I'm writing a book on third-wave feminism; that's really why you should be reading this.
"I'm an 18 year old Jersey chick writing about third-wave feminism; for the past few months I've been interviewing feminists, lame anti-feminists, filmmakers, musicians, magazine editors, anyone I could find with an opinion. My writing project with put emphasis on the third-wave (with background history on the prior two waves), the kids that grew up in it, what the wave got wrong/right, who was overlooked/gained more credit than necessary, where feminism can go from here. I'll also try to touch on misconceptions of feminists, both from inside and outside the scene.
In addition, I wanted to talk about porn and what that's done to the feminist agenda" That came from an e-mail I sent to a writer last month, and that explains it all. My angelfire page (my first page, and it looks like it, so be nice) does a more thorough job of explaining myself. Fuck it, there's a good chance you might not check out my link; so...
"The book will break down as follows:
the history and analysis of feminism
personal views pertaining to feminism, from grrrls and bois at an "insider's" perspective, and those of girls and boys from an outside view
objections and praise of third-wavers
important literature, music, and citizens of the feminism world
an answer to the question "is feminism dead?" with suggestions for revitalization
a look at the problems no one bothered to answer yet
This book will be 40% bearing of my own soul and thoughts on particular issues, 50% history, and critiques from pro-and-anti feminists, and 10% history lesson and suggestions for surviving in a "post feminist" world.
Because this book is based so much on other girls and boys, men and women, interviews and contributions are appreciated at this point." Contributions = interviews, and personal essays from friendly people with very little else to do.
I promise I'll get more original later. This was my background and reasoning though, for whining about feminism as I plan to. Maybe I'll start putting up essays I'm basing the book around.
© 2007 Lucia Doyle
"He thinks he can be a girl better than me" Intro
"Feminism can be a real bitch. Take that any way you want." Those are the first words I wrote on my first page of my book, and I'll let them be my first words here, as well.
I'm not sure exactly why this page exists; does there really need to be a reason? www.angelfire.com/blog/the-why-control that's my real site for my book. But this page will be where I post everything up until I get this damn thing published. I need a place for people to tell me I suck, and where I can rant on regardless. Sounds good.
To-Do list of the moment:
~write: -introduction to book
-art vs. porn
-pornography under attack: the christian right vs. the feminists
-critique of Suicide Girls empire
© 2007 Lucia Doyle
I'm not sure exactly why this page exists; does there really need to be a reason? www.angelfire.com/blog/the-why-control that's my real site for my book. But this page will be where I post everything up until I get this damn thing published. I need a place for people to tell me I suck, and where I can rant on regardless. Sounds good.
To-Do list of the moment:
~write: -introduction to book
-art vs. porn
-pornography under attack: the christian right vs. the feminists
-critique of Suicide Girls empire
© 2007 Lucia Doyle
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