Open letter to a friend who must go nameless

It has recently come to my attention that another friend, a progressive blogger, has become the target of a cyberstalker. The culprit: you, her (former) collaborator.

Now, I should state in advance that I did not see the blog entries (she tells me there were two) in which you started blaming women and feminism for all your current problems. She deleted them because they were so ugly that she could have gotten into trouble with her supervisors at work.

But you, rather than understanding her legitimate concerns, decided to step up your attacks. Now, not content to blame women and feminists in general, you seem to have fixated on her in particular as the cause of all your woes. You have repeatedly blocked her on Twitter, only to harass her afresh under new handles, but with the same old bizarre accusations. I haven’t been on the tweeter myself that much lately, so I missed all that.

However, I have seen your latest entry on your own (formerly deleted, now resurrected) blog, in which you go on to trash her and claim that she’s the reason you’re mentally ill, you’ve gone through more than $100,000 of your savings, and you’re just a few thousand more away from landing on the street. You seem to think it’s her fault that you are sick, broke, and can’t get laid (your words). Or is it the fault of feminism? Either way, your barely coherent rant appalled me, and I will not link to it; in your shoes, I would delete it and refrain from blogging for the time being, as such defamatory rambling could only hurt you in your efforts to rebuild your life. That is why I am not addressing you here by name.

I don’t know what it’s like to lose $100,000 in savings, as I have never been able to accumulate anywhere near that much. I do, however, know what it’s like to be depressed. I’ve been lucky; thanks to good self-care and daily doses of Vitamin B complex, I haven’t had a relapse in nearly 20 years. If you cannot afford a shrink, at least spend a few dollars on vitamins; they can’t hurt you, and who knows how much they will help? All I know is that they lifted the pall from my own mind and enabled me to function fully as a human being again. Before that, I was much like you: paranoid, irrational, all too willing to blame everyone and everything else, and unable to take responsibility for myself. I couldn’t see past the end of my nose, and I was forever flailing about in a grey fog of pain and exhaustion. The things I did when I was sick still make me blanch with humiliation to this day, nearly 20 years after the fact. And I deeply regret the things I was not well enough to do, too.

That’s why I advise you, as your friend, to cease and desist from tweeting, blogging, and online ranting. Back when I was sick, I didn’t have recourse to any of those things, and it’s a good thing I didn’t; I could so easily have cyberstalked the former boyfriend who wronged me, too. I am grateful that it never came to that, because what with the ol’ Google Cache, those things could have come back forever to haunt me. Luckily, Google was not yet a “thing” back then.

You can ill afford to be sued for defamation of character, and should you find yourself in the position of applying for a job, the last thing you want is for your prospective employer to run an online search on you and find that you wrote all sorts of nasty, ugly things about a woman you wrongly blamed for all your woes while you were sick. I think you know that, since I’m told that you deleted your old blog, where you first started spewing these spurious accusations. In your shoes, I’d delete your new one too, since carrying on in the same vein is self-destructive and counter-productive.

If you are not seeing a psychologist already, start now. Write your thoughts in a paper journal, not a blog, so that there is no electronic record of your worst moments. Share this journal with your therapist if asked to do so. Use it to reorganize yourself and reorient yourself mentally, because if what our friend told me is true, you have gotten very badly disoriented.

As for what you said about feminism turning women into abusers, that is straight-up MRA bullshit and you ought to know it. You say you grew up as the only male in an otherwise all-female household; therefore, you have no excuses for spewing such a load of misogyny. Being the guy who grew up surrounded by women, and presumably more sensitive to their issues, does not excuse it. It means, on the contrary, that you, of all men, should know better than to go tarring women with a broad brush of blame.

So why did you do it, then? Because you had a bad female boss? Because you had a couple of them? Listen, my friend, so did I. I don’t blame feminism for them; I blame THEM for them. And I blame another ism, too: CAPITALISM, which rewards psychopathy in the ruling classes, particularly corporate bosses. Profit is not only unpaid wages that should accrue to the worker, it is the reward of corporate psychopathy; you know this, and I know this. I’ve also had some seriously dickish male bosses, for what this is worth. But you won’t hear me going off on a man-hating tangent because of them. I know that dickishness is a depressingly common trait of the boss class, not males in general. And dickishness, in this context, knows no gender.

Feminism is not your foe; it is your ally, and at this time, you are obviously in no fit state to realize it. After all, it is not about female supremacy, reverse sexism, or penis-bashing as you seem to think; it is plainly and simply about social equality, and human rights for all.

Right now you seem to feel that you have been denied a fair share of something; I’m not sure exactly what you expected, but you sound to me like you have jumped the rails of reason. I am not so much afraid OF you as FOR you. I worry that you might hurt yourself.

Assuming that one day you will be well enough to work again, and that the odds are roughly 50-50 that you will be working for a female employer, again, I advise you to delete that blog. It can only hurt your prospects, and it can only embarrass you when you are well enough to look back and regret the damage you have done. The fellow blogger at whom you have aimed your ire deserves better than that, and so do you.

Iraq, ten years later: Rumsfeld edition

I don’t know if Rummy tweeted this himself, or if he had a flunkie do it for him. But I rather hope he did it himself, just to see the outpouring of, er, AFFECTION that followed:

rummy-10-yrs-later

Steubenville: It really IS Rapeville.

Traci Lords makes a connection that the media have by and large (and, in my opinion, quite willfully) missed. Actually, several connections. One, the connection between rape and prostitution (and porn, which is also tied to prostitution). She says the fact that she was raped in her hometown — Steubenville, Ohio, near the West Virginia border — is “absolutely the reason” she ended up on the streets, prostituted, and later, “starring” in porn while still under 18. The report doesn’t elaborate, but the reason isn’t hard to guess: Rape degrades, it inflicts a sense of being less of a person than those who raped you. When you’re already beaten down in mind, and constantly reminded of what happened by the fact that you have to see these same smug, hypocritical people every day, the only escape is often to run away to the big city streets. And those streets can be motherfucking MEAN. You do whatever you must to survive. And for many runaway girls, that’s spelled prostitution. Which, by its very nature, often repeats and reinforces the initial trauma of the rape.

Another connection: the fact that small towns where jocks enjoy a special, elevated status (especially in such heavily commercialized team sports as football) are NOT “great places to raise a kid”. They are actually places where bullying, beatings, sexual assaults, pedophilia, and even gang rapes happen all the time, but are rarely ever brought to the light of day. This is because the guys who commit the crime are lionized not merely in spite of, but sometimes BECAUSE of what they do to girls. It’s a sexist culture, where jocks are elevated and girls are relegated to second-place status. You get to bask in the reflected glory of the jocks if you’re a cheerleader and/or girlfriend of a jock, but that’s about it. It’s all about the guys, in the end. And the whole town, its authorities, its police, its lawyers and judges, will move heaven and earth to shield the perpetrators from anything that might damage their “bright futures” playing commercial football…and perpetuating the jock brand of rape culture.

And this is the Steubenville culture that has Traci Lords so angry and outraged still, so many years after what happened to her. In fact, this is the culture of small-town USA, period. All the old prejudices and hypocrisies are still firmly in place. The only thing that’s different here is that the “clean-cut” mask slipped, and someone got caught. That’s what bugged me about the sobby courtroom performance of those two guys. One of them expressed sorrow, not for what he had done, but for the fact that pictures got taken of it and circulated. He had no apparent remorse for the rape part, because rape is a jock’s entitlement; his regret was only for being indiscreet about it. His life won’t be ruined because he committed rape; it will be put on hold for a few short years because he was caught in the act by a camera.

The media, too, must bear a share of the blame for the perpetuation of this small-town jock rape culture. Aren’t they the ones constantly selling the wholesome image of the small town, the great place to raise kids, the golden jocks, the big fucking lie? Of course they are. And even now, those faithful crapaganda mills are churning out the rape apologia. On CNN, they’re all boo-hoo for the poor maligned boys, and not one word for the abused girl. FUX Snooze? Well, they did devote a few words to her; they divulged her identity, so she could be harassed and bullied still further. Maybe they’re hoping she’ll kill herself, to save the honor of the jocks. Blood expunges shit-stains, does it not?

Traci Lords has every right to be angry, because nothing’s really changed. Sure, two guys are going to jail and are going to be labelled sex offenders. Sure, their careers are going to be curtailed, at least where sports are concerned. Sure, they’re probably not going to get football scholarships; colleges will be passing them by for cleaner candidates, and they’re just going to have to work harder for an education, if they want one. They can’t rely on their jock passes anymore. In short, they’re just gonna have to live like all the rest of us unathletic commoners. But…cry me a fucking river! They are not going to end up on the streets, prostituted and acting in pornos, being degraded and subjugated for the delectation of other dudes. That’s for girls.

After all, that’s what happened to Traci Lords. She got singled out, assaulted, branded with a scarlet letter in her teens. She is still living with her trauma after all these years. The girl in this case will have to live with the same. She will deal, day to day, with everything that happened to her against her will being called a “cognitive choice” on her part. Never mind that she couldn’t say no because she was too bombed to say anything. And that the reason she was bombed is that she was set up for it in advance, called a slut and a whore ahead of time and then drugged without her knowledge, by those same guys who are now trying to make like it was all just a moment of weakness and poor judgment and blah blah blah. It was not. It was planned and premeditated on THEIR part, and yet she is the one bearing the burden for it.

Meanwhile, these guys are still getting the tragic hero’s treatment in the media. They weren’t even tried in adult court. They’ll probably brag about their juvenile delinquency raps 20 years from now.

Poor misunderstood babies, how dare we slap them on the wrist?

Tom Flanagan is okay with kiddie porn

Incredible. Watch as a Native guy nails jello to the wall…and makes it stick:

It’s “just pictures”. Unbefuckinglievable. Yeah…just pictures of kids being subjected to adult sexual whims before their time. No biggie!

Oh, and he’s been on the NAMBLA mailing list for a number of years, which could explain his flibbertigibbertarian position right there. (Of course, he’s not “really” one of THOSE.) What would Icky Vic say? Oh wait…NAMBLA’s mailing list pre-dates the Internets, so I guess he’d say that’s fine. As long as Tom’s just looking at pictures, eh?

Minimizing the child abuse that is the BASIS of child pornography. SupposiTories not bothering to vet their own, but going around accusing their political opponents of supporting this shit. It doesn’t get any scungier than that.

And just think, this is Stephen Fucking Harper’s chief ideologue here. This is not a minor player. This is the guy who wrote the hymnal from which the entire Harper Conservative cabinet sings. But I guess taking a flibbertigibbertarian stance on economics expunges a multitude of crimes.

PS: CBC has just fired Flanagan from their news panel. (The Alberta “Wildrose” ReformaSupposiTories were actually ahead of them on that.) I’m only surprised that it’s taken them this long. His original remarks about kiddie porn, referenced by the questioner in the video, were made in 2009. His first foray into dirty politicking came in 2004, when Flanagan accused then PM Paul Martin of being soft on kiddie porn, and even incorporated it into a SupposiTory attack ad campaign. I told you he was a nasty fucking ideologue…and a nastier fucking hypocrite. And he’s getting his comeuppance now, at long last and not a minute too soon.

PPS: And if you’re wondering why it took Natives to expose this crap ideologue for the perverted freak he is, read this and you will know all.

PPPS: Aaaaand the fallout continues. The U of Calgary has denounced him and he has resigned. Also, nice non-apology, bastard!

The elephant in the burned cabin

Today, a friend posted this article from Jacobin on his Facebook wall. It’s an analysis of the Christopher Dorner case that the media have been screaming about all week. I wanted to like it; it was well and gracefully written, and makes a number of good points. The essayist in me admired it. But there was something missing in it, or rather, something present in it that was going unaddressed, like the elephant in the proverbial living room.

No one seems to have seriously considered giving in to Dorner’s one demand: that the record be set straight by releasing all of the documents related to his disciplinary hearings, and clearing his name from the prior disciplinary actions against him. He pledged to end his warfare if the LAPD would do so. Considering his apparent death last night, one wonders if that life could have been saved at the price of the department’s momentary embarrassment. “A man is nothing without his name,” repeats Dorner.

Dorner’s reaction is partly rooted in a corrosive version of American masculinity — his response to institutional corruption is uniquely Jack Bauer and John Wayne. Gratuitous violence included. Dorner is a wholesale product of a society gone mad on racism and war, of a state that aggressively punishes dissent, of an intellectual milieu where telling the truth has become a dangerous act. There was no internal institutional outlet for him to address injustices against him: the blue line prevented that.

So I set off to ponder it — or rather, I futzed around and stewed. And while I was futzing around, I found this other article on Counterpunch that came a little closer to the elephant. But it, too, disappointed me. And I couldn’t figure out why.

In the years between the murder of Oscar Grant and Dorner’s last stand, March of 2009 to be specific, we were among those observing the case of Lovelle Mixon in Oakland, a parolee who decided he was not going to return to prison, opening fire on police at a traffic stop, killing two. Police went in to execute Mixon, not expecting that he would be holding an SKS. Two more cops died as a result. The logic of Dorner’s desperation, and the chain of events that led to his ultimate death, parallels Mixon’s; proud men without hope, cornered, deciding to go out fighting.

Neither man was a self-understood revolutionary and it would be inaccurate (or perhaps too accurate a reflection of the dearth of revolutionary activity in contemporary society) to try and declare otherwise. However, the material conditions that produced Dorner, as with Mixon, are not uncommon. The meaning and the effects of their actions speak volumes about the depth of racialization, criminalization and hopelessness in Obama’s supposed “post-racial” America.

It isn’t unique to the United States; Canada and the UK have had their share of such killers too, albeit fewer in proportion to the general population. It isn’t limited to whites; the Virginia Tech murders proved that much. Asian men are less likely to do it, but they are every bit as capable of “snapping” when societal prejudices and their own personal problems overwhelm them. The same is true of black men, like Christopher Dorner. The color lines are there, and they matter. They are not an insignificant factor in the social injustices that drive some men to become spree shooters, before committing suicide (or suicide by cop, as the case may be.) But the racial prejudice against non-whites was not the only factor.

And yeah, the cop shop is a brutally authoritarian place. Same old story just about everywhere. The nail that sticks up will get hammered down by a fist of blue. That, too, is significant, but it doesn’t tell the whole story. Conformity, especially in uniform, is a major problem of the so-called police state. But that, too, is not the thing that stood out for me.

Finally, it hit me: This rampage-killing thing is a man’s game. That’s the elephant. How many female spree killers have you heard of? Offhand, I only know of one, and her own father (who sexually abused her) gave her the gun that she used to take pot-shots at the school across the street. So the exception still proves the rule: Brenda Ann Spencer, though female (and gay), was very much the product of a male-dominated culture. Her father had no son, and undoubtedly saw his daughter as a weak vessel, a sex object by dint of merely owning a vagina, and so fair game for abuse. But at the same time, in his sick way, he tried to turn her into the son he did not have, so as to fulfill his masculine duty. And his way of doing so was to give her the phallic weapon, the ersatz penis, that the far right always simplistically holds up as the “great equalizer” of the sexes, not to mention of races, and of social classes: He gave her a gun.

And if you think I’m out of line bringing gender into the narrative, I’ll just leave this here:

bushmaster-man-card

I don’t think the gender connection could be any more explicit than that.

Now, back to the passages I excerpted from the two articles. I chose them so you could see the elephant, and how it was simultaneously hinted at and erased from the picture. The use of the words man, men, and masculinity should be the tip-off. Gun violence is a man’s game. To go out with a bang — or in the case of Christopher Dorner, a conflagration started by projectiles fired from a special gun — is a masculist death if ever there was one. Few women dream of going out in a blaze of “glory”, much less set out to actually accomplish it. (And those few who do, often end badly; think of Nancy Lanza, shot to death with her own gun, by her own son. Whom she had taught to shoot, perhaps in an effort to instill some semblance of socially acceptable masculinity into the slender, autistic young man.)

Little wonder, then, that the totality of the anti-authoritarian “Go Dorner” memes clogging my own Facebook feed were from male friends. And not just from any male friends, but specifically from those with left-libertarian/anarchist tendencies. My liberal, socialist and communist friends, male and female alike, refrained from posting such memes. None of them saw the sense in glorifying a troubled man, much less one who, to paraphrase Audre Lorde, reached for the master’s tools to destroy the master’s house and ironically ended up being burned to death in it himself. Interestingly, both of the articles I cited mentioned fire in the final line. The Jacobin article ends thus:

In Dorner’s case, the allegory of life to a furnace takes literal weight — he has died, consumed by fire. The police will celebrate, the chorus will quiet, the lives of his victims mourned. It is unlikely that the fire that burned away Dorner will burn away any illusion: this is unfortunate, and disturbing. His allegations will be dismissed as the rantings of a lunatic, things will return to normal. Until the fire, next time.

And the Counterpunch one, thus:

Dorner was not a radical, but his short war was not simply the story of broken man or of individualistic vengeance. The issues of brutality and racism perpetually covered up by a corrupt police department created the insurgent Dorner and resonated with many people who endure the reality of urban policing on a daily basis. The sympathy and the support Dorner received is a clear indicator of the very real and deep structural inequalities that helped forge the path of Dorner’s life and his fiery death. The great radical historian Mike Davis concluded a recent article on Dorner with a peculiar question: “Does anyone cheer Dorner?” What is peculiar is that, for better or worse, there’s no denying that the answer is “yes.”

There’s no telling what sort of a fire they could start tomorrow.

Interesting use of imagery, no? And that brings me to another aspect of the elephant.

There is a very specific kind of man who just wants to see the state burn. He isn’t confined to the right, although he’s easier to spot over there. He tends to look like a nutcase, talk like a nutcase, and act like one over there. He styles himself as a survivalist, a doomsday cultist, a “prepper”. To him, Waco and Ruby Ridge represent the ultimate evil of the democratic state. And if he’s a US-American, he talks a great deal about the Second Amendment and how it is the “solution” to that “socialist” black man in charge. Never mind that Barack Obama is obviously no socialist; whatever he actually stands for or does not, he represents all that is alien and threatening to the right-wing white man who thinks the world is his by right. The misapplied term is shorthand for anything and everything the right wing opposes. It is as laughably divorced from meaning as the right-winger is from reality.

But in the anarchist quadrant of the leftist spectrum, the “smash the state” guy looks a bit different. He’s generally more thoughtful than his right-wing nutjob cousin, and thus less apt to tote a gun, but he still has a taste for the Molotov cocktail. He’s cerebral, rather than overtly phallic-obsessive. And he can be just as much of a male chauvinist, too, in his own right. He’s a great one for theory, this guy. He reads voraciously; it’s not ironic, in his eyes, to decry the recent firebombing of an anarchist bookstore in London. If he’s conspiracy-minded (and a great many left-anarchists are), he may even see in that the effort of the all-powerful and all-evil state to smash the “little man”. (I use the term advisedly, as you may have guessed.) To him, the burning of Freedom Books has its obvious parallel to the incineration of Chris Dorner. Never mind the irony that the police and fire department were the ones to help salvage the burned bookstore.

But the state is not the real problem. It is not some ahuman, alien entity that will invariably crush the Little Man’s balls, regardless of how much the left-anarchist bomb-thrower may sing from the same facile hymnal as the right-libertarian gun nut on the issue.

All the state is, in the final analysis, is the sum of the people who comprise it. It is up to the people to decide how it operates, and what they will and will not allow it to do on their behalf. And while corruption goes with power-over, mere overthrow of those in charge will not result in freedom overnight. Did the recent uprisings in the Middle East and North Africa not prove as much? The same Egyptians who demonstrated agaist Mubarak are now mobilizing once more against Morsi. They do not want NO government; they want a democratic government that upholds human rights, equality and dignity for all.

If the arc of history is long, and bends toward justice, it stands to reason that a quick, violent revolution, resulting in a leaderless and stateless world, is not the answer to the current global malaise. The just society, in the end, looks much like the democratic socialist vision, in which women are equal to men, and color and nationality are not the caste-marks of an unwritten hierarchy either. The state’s job is to protect the just society. As long as that much is clear, and remembered, the rest will flow from it.

Here in Canada, we have our Charter of Rights and Freedoms; an organ of the state, yes, and one that enables women to agitate successfully for reproductive rights and pay equity, First Nations for the protection of their lands, gays for the right to marry and adopt children, and minorities to take racists before human-rights tribunals. All progressive movements here are grounded in it in one way or another, even if they don’t know it. While it takes a regular beating at the hands of election-stealing wingnuts, it’s still there, and it forms the basis of our laws, even though the right-wing gun nuts and “libertarians” here may gnash their teeth over how it keeps them from ruling the country in their own phallocentric, white, Christian male image. Their “freedom” is the privilege to oppress anyone they regard as inferior; our freedom (note the absence of quotes) is the constitutional right to throw off their hegemony.

And while racism and police brutality are the privileges of a few, gender oppression is the reality of half the human race. To erase it from analysis, to dismiss it as unimportant, to sneer at feminist analysis, is to alienate half of the potential revolutionary force that will remake society peacefully and progressively. That is the elephant in the burning cabin. One can be blind to all but the ear, or the trunk, or the tail that is in one’s immediate grasp, but if we are to confront the elephant properly, we have to take it all of a piece or not at all.

Teh Heterostoopid: The Great Purge

conservative-only-dating

Yeah, this sure sounds like a winning proposition:

ConservativeOnly.com, a U.S. dating site that promises to “purge your personal dating pool of liberals, progressives, socialists, marxists, communists, feminazis and democrats” — has just announced it is expanding into Canada.

“Founder Craig Knight realized that conservatism was not just limited to the United States … it was clear the next step was to expand his dating website to include Canada, United Kingdom and Australia,” reads a January 29 release by the company.

First launched in January, 2012, the site reportedly came into being after Mr. Knight had trouble “finding conservative prospects on mainstream dating sites,” according to an inaugural press release.

Gee, that’s sad. But you know what’s even sadder? Oh, how about this:

Conservatives Only even welcomes same-sex relationships, but the gay pickings are rather slim. A Wednesday search showed only 16 entries in the “men seeking men” category and a rock-bottom three entries in the “women seeking women” category.

For heterosexuals, the ratio of men to women is roughly 3.5 to one — with 215 women to 706 men as per a Wednesday night count.

Yep, that sounds like a real swingin’ hot spot you got there, Mr. Knight.

But wait…it gets sadder:

Many of the profiles are from conservatives claiming to be “trapped” within liberal centres. “I find it very hard to meet a conservative women …living in Los Angeles does not help either,” wrote a 57-year-old man.

“I’m a social and fiscal conservative computer engineer born and raised in the People’s Republic of Iowa City,” quipped a 26-year-old woman.

“Willing to lie about where we met,” wrote a 28-year-old woman from the progressive stronghold of Austin, Texas.

Not all the profiles are looking for romantic love, however, such as a 38-year-old woman searching for a “friend to watch Glenn Beck with” or a 63-year-old woman looking for a friend to ride motorcycles with.

And just to get truly pathetic, let’s look at how the Great Canadian Conserva-Dating Expansion is going so far:

As of January 30, the site’s Canadian offerings were almost non-existent, with zero men and only two women; a 47-year-old woman in Oshawa, Ont. looking for a husband and a “very busy person” from Antigonish, Nova Scotia.

Sadface.

But seriously, folks, by all means, go Galt from the mainstream dating scene, if you really hate the majority of humanity so much. You won’t be missed, I suspect. Just don’t reproduce, ‘kay?

Teh Heterostoopid: Less equality, more nookie? Ha!

sexist-ad-fail

Q. Why the fuck is this news?

A. Because it’s sensationalistic as hell. And it’s full of “gotcha” and “checkmate, feminists” bullshit:

Married men who shirk traditional “female” housework have more sex with their wives than those who willingly pitch in with the cooking or cleaning, a new study says.

The research, out of the University of Washington, shows that couples who keep to traditional household chores – where men rake leaves or fix the car and women tidy up or shop – have significantly more carnal encounters than their more egalitarian counterparts.

“Where the male is doing the male tasks and the female is doing the female tasks, those are the couples (who) are having more sex,” says Julie Brines, a sociologist at the Seattle school and a study co-author.

The study was released Wednesday by the journal American Sociological Review.

It found that couples spend an average of 34 hours a week on so-called “female” chores and 17 hours on more traditional male tasks. It also found that couples overall reported about five sexual encounters a month.

But households where Dagwood-like dreamboats preformed none of the “women’s work” reported 1.6 times more sexual encounters than those in which men took on the bulk of cooking and cleaning chores.

That increase in sexual frequency went down in an inverse proportion to the amount of traditional “women’s work” a husband took on.

Households where husbands claimed 40 per cent of that housework reported almost one less sexual encounter a month than those in which the males took on none of those chores.

Sounds like it confirms what the social conservatives and MRAssholes have always “known”, right? Namely, when “men are men and women are women”, that is, each sex conforms to its socially mandated sex role, sex is SEX. And it happens more often.

Meanwhile, egalitarian lovers aren’t getting enough love. Because men who do dishes and take the burden of housework off their wives’ already overloaded shoulders aren’t manly enough. Just the act of putting on an apron causes the testicles to shrink, and the penis to go limp. Poor babies!

Meanwhile, buried halfway down the piece, we get at the less sensational (but much more embarrassing) truth about the survey itself:

One of the study’s drawbacks is its reliance on data that is now two decades old.

The study looked at 4,500 heterosexual couples polled as part of the U.S. National Survey of Families and Households, conducted between 1992 and 1994.

So the data is 20 years out of date. Stale data to back up a stale pre-drawn conclusion, yawwwwwwwn. But, claims the author, it’s still relevant:

But Brines argues that the conception and division of male and female chores – not including child care duties which are much more evenly split today — has changed little in 20 years.

“It’s not what it was 50 years ago, there was a lot of change in the division of household labor in the ‘70s,” she says.

“But the pace of change started to slow down in the ‘80s and by the mid 1990s it kind of remained stuck and you’re pretty much at the same point.”

And she knows this HOW? Sorry, she doesn’t say. She does, however, like to stress how dull and boring the poor egalitarian couples are, and posits THAT as the cause of their almost one (!) less sexual shenanigan a month:

Past research, Brines says, suggests that mundane, gender-linked chores may be much more sexually charged than has been imagined.

“If the activity is coded as masculine or feminine and it expresses ideas about what makes the opposite sex interesting, attractive, alluring mysterious…that seems to be related to sexual activity and possibly sexual desire,” Brines says.

Egalitarian marriages, where couples share everything, have common interests and express close friendships produce less sex on average than their more disparate counterparts, she says.

“Their sex lives are pretty lackluster, they’re not all that active,” Brines says.

“There’s a sibling-like tonality to the relationships. They’re really good best friends, but the sexual charge is missing from the relationship.”

Gee, lady, you make it sound like we’re all just poles on a battery. Kind of a lifeless, mechanistic view of sexual relations, don’t you think?

Oh, and the best part comes last:

Brines says the finding do not reflect a sexual coercion on the part of knuckle-dragging husbands as both male and female spouses reported satisfied sex lives among those couples who practiced gender-based chore divisions.

While their sex lives may be more robust, however, these couples might pay for that sexual pleasure with more confrontations outside the bedroom, she says.

What exactly constitutes “satisfied sex lives”? Again, she doesn’t say. For all we know, the women in these households may have to finish themselves off with a vibrator because their dude is a truly traditional wham-bam kind of of guy, and the men might find more fulfillment in a bottle of Jergens lotion and a tattered copy of Playboy. Which, I guess, is satisfaction of a sort.

But not nearly as sexy as a guy who knows how to pick up after himself and can do it without complaining…or insisting on manning a leaf-blower, instead.

And certainly not worth more “confrontations outside the bedroom”, however “satisfying” what goes on within may be.

Hello, Charles McVety? It’s me, your aneurysm.

kathleen-wynne

So, I guess you’ve all heard by now that our fair province, Ontario, has a new premier-designate. Her name’s Kathleen Wynne, and she’s apparently from the liberal wing of the Ontario Liberal party. That’s nice, eh? I think so…especially since she seems willing to work with my party of choice, the New Democrats. And that’s not all she’s willing to do…

Ontario’s new premier Kathleen Wynne has promised to reintroduce controversial inclusive physical and sex education curriculum which was shelved after conservative religious groups protested in 2010.

Wynne spoke to reporters Jan 27 at her first news conference as premier designate at Toronto’s Delta Chelsea Hotel.

“We are going to evolve the physical health and sex education curriculum,” she said when questioned by Xtra.

Wynne did not say when the curriculum will be reintroduced, but she said parents can soon expect consultations, which will include education advocacy groups like the Ontario Physical and Health Education Association (OPHEA) and People for Education.

[...]

When it was first released in 2010, the curriculum was called groundbreaking because it presented age-appropriate discussions on sexuality, gender and different types of families. But the document, which attempted to update information that is more than 15 years old, was shelved after a backlash from religious groups.

Yes, that’s right, comprehensive sex-ed is back on the table in Ontario, after two years on the shelf. Why is this important? Well, it may have to do with the fact that Premier Wynne is one of those ladies:

Wynne is Canada’s first lesbian premier. She says she’s incredibly proud to be a role model for queer youth, but being gay isn’t the only quality that defines her.

“Coming to the legislature I have a responsibility to represent all my constituents, but I have some special responsibilities as well,” she told reporters when asked about her history-making leadership victory.

“I have a special responsibility to young gay people, who might be looking for the possibility of a more accepting world. [But] I’m not a gay activist. That’s not how I got into politics. I’m talking about it today because you’ve asked about it, but I’m not going to spend the next month talking about this.”

Wynne, a former education activist, entered the political boxing ring fighting the Mike Harris government’s Common Sense Revolution in the 1990s. She founded a group lobbying for better education and joined another led by former Toronto mayor John Sewell and resisted deep cuts to education, reports the Globe and Mail.

Yep, she’s an education activist. Not that there’s anything wrong with that! But a certain meddling preacher man just hates those:

Dr. Charles McVety, president of Canada Christian College, said Ontario’s revamped sex education curriculum will teach 11-year-olds about oral and anal sex and eight-year-olds about sexual orientation and identity.

“Little eight-year-olds, they’re going to be taught they look one way on the outside but they may be the opposite on the inside,” McVety said. “This is so confusing to an eight-year-old … these are children in the strongest sense of the word — they’re innocent, they’re clean, they’re beautiful — and to corrupt them by imparting a question of gender identity is beyond the pale.”

Of course, Chuckles was lying about that. The curriculum in question would not have taught those issues to eight-year-olds, but to eighth-graders. That’s a full five-year difference. The average age of a student in Grade 8 here in Ontario is 13. And no, kids of any age would NOT be taught that they are the “opposite” sex on the inside, but rather, when they are old enough to understand, they would simply be able to recognize what transgender actually means. This is all about supplying kids with accurate information, not indoctrination.

But leave it to Chuckles to confuse the issue with disingenuous rhetoric; his grandiose vision of “Canadian Values” is not one of clarity, but of deliberate fogginess on his part, leading to blind “moral” panic in the general public. Two years ago it may have worked, if only by catching Ontarians unawares, but there’s no excuse now; the oh-so-Christian lie has been exposed.

And while Dalton McWimpy may have caved to Chuckles and his idiot brigade out of political expediency, Kathleen Wynne looks to be made of sterner stuff. After all, she entered the Liberal leadership fray as an underdog, and beat out McWimpy’s heavily favored “attack dog”, Sandra “Pitbull” Pupatello. She’s gonna need every bit of that stuff, and I don’t envy her the fight that lies ahead. But I’m glad she’s intent on wading in. If she shows the same dynamism on other issues as well, and continues to work with the left, she could be just the premier we need to reverse the backwardness Mike Harris and his SupposiTories left us with. Wouldn’t that be something?

Personally, I’ll be happy just to see Chuckles have a hemorrhage when Ontarians fail to react any longer to his hysterics about evil, evil LGBT people. One of whom also happens to be a former education activist…and now Premier of Ontario.

The muddled feminist and the abusive cowboy (and the irresponsible publisher)

alisa-valdes

By now you’ve probably heard about Alisa Valdes, the romance novelist who penned a memoir about how she let a right-wing cowboy named Steve rope and tame her like a mustang mare. You’ve probably also heard how all the right-wing anti-feminists seized on that tale and crowed about it, claiming it validated their half-baked theories about women “needing” a dominant male to “take a firm hand”; that it was “just human nature”, and so on. And you may also have heard that she later tried to come clean on her personal blog about what horseshit that memoir actually is, revealing that Cowboy Steve didn’t merely tame her, he broke her. He lied to her, cheated on her, and insulted her (and her son), and that was just the beginning; he also raped her. In every sense, he abused her. And you might even know that her publicist freaked, and warned her to take that harrowing blog entry down. Alisa Valdes complied. But Google still has it cached, and it reveals not only the details and extent of the indignities she suffered at the hands of Cowboy Steve — but also, of all people, her own publisher:

I’ve had more than a dozen books published, but never have I had a publication day come and go without so much as an email from my editor, wishing me well — until now. With the recent publication of my first memoir, The Feminist & The Cowboy: An Unlikely Love Story, I have had the odd experience of having been essentially shunned by my publisher, one assumes because the reality of my life more than a year after having turned in the final manuscript is different from the ending one might have liked to have seen if my life were the made-for-TV movie or fairy tale my publisher seemed to have hoped they might market my book as. I have been advised not to discuss any of this publicly, to just accept this cold shoulder and lack of support as my penance for the crime of being openly broken up with the cowboy when I should have just pretended we were still together long enough to sell books.

Nice, eh? Big Publisher is more intent on racking up sales than on making sure the whole story is told in an honest, above-board manner. Big Publisher wants the writer to pretend that everything is exactly as it is not. Big Publisher, in short, is playing the censor. And who suffers the most? A woman who, one would think, has already suffered more than enough:

There is a LOT you don’t know about the cowboy and how he treated me. I kept a lot of it under wraps, because I had turned a book in and I was trying to be a good contract employee and not completely sabotage the book by telling the whole story on my blog. But with my publisher’s complete lack of support now, and with the reviews so clearly describing for me the fact that healthy women, whole women, are able to recognize in the cowboy a dangerous man that I was, in my blindness and lack of experience with abusive men, unable to see, I feel that the only possible way for any of this to make sense to anyone is for the entire story to be known. To be honest about it puts me in danger — real physical danger — so I am reluctant.

Again, note that lack of concern on the publisher’s part for her well-being. “Trying to be a good contract employee” is like trying to be a “good” abused woman; it’s bound to cost you your integrity, and it may end up costing you a lot more than that. The Cowboy refuses to compromise and let Alisa be herself; he must have her perfectly submissive or he will not “put up with” her at all (his words). The publisher shows zero willingness to hold off publication and give the author a chance to revise the manuscript into the cautionary tale it actually is. One can’t excuse them for jumping the gun, since the publication process is at least a year long between receiving the manuscript and putting the book out in print. That is plenty of time for revision, and they would not consider that. Nope, they had what they thought was a sure-fire bestseller on their hands, something that would generate tons of buzz, so they wanted to go with that.

I am inevitably reminded of the prude-shaming backlash against feminists who criticized the movie Deep Throat. And how the star, Linda Lovelace, later wrote Out of Bondage, telling all about her abusive ex-husband, Chuck Traynor. Ol’ Chuck brutally strong-armed her into not only making the porno, but smiling through all the incredibly phony promotional appearances she had to put in afterwards. But there’s a difference: Linda Lovelace had her publisher’s support for that memoir. Alisa Valdes doesn’t. The terrible truth — and the uppity woman who dared try to tell it — could just go hang.

So what to do next? Well, how about this:

I have been working on a sequel about the cowboy and me, and though I am quite sure my publisher won’t want it I will likely self-publish it soon. In it, I plan to detail the ways I was fooled and manipulated, the mistakes I made in choosing to ignore red flags, the many unfortunate ways that I started to subsume and lose myself in order to please an unpleasable and controlling man. I hope that in doing so I will help to make sense of the first book, both for you guys and for myself. What I want to emphasize here is that the first book was NOT an attempt to sell a lie; it was a sincere, heartfelt memoir that came during the honeymoon period of an abusive relationship, before I understood just how much danger I was putting myself in, with me justifying the hints of violence through my own romanticized version of the American cowboy icon and, unfortunately, with me blinded by this man’s almost unfathomable physical beauty, which was almost impossible to reconcile with the brutality that this most handsome shell encased.

[...]

I’m sure I’ll get shit for posting this. I’m betraying my publisher, who would have liked for me to be the next Ree Drummond. Hell, I would have liked for me to be the next Ree Drummond. But I wasn’t. I was the only Alisa Valdes, learning as I went along, living honestly and hopefully, trying to love. The only way the memoir works is if it is allowed to be what it IS rather than what others might like for it to have been. What is it? It is a guidebook for women on what falling in love with a controlling abuser looks like. It is a handbook on what NOT to do, what to run away from. I did not know it then. Then, I felt safe and thrilled, impressed with myself for having secured such a hot, strong, strapping, manly man. It was an illusion. Underneath it all was a scared, insecure boy, who talked the talk but didn’t walk the walk, a man who only felt good enough when he was making others feel badly. The memoir is important, and it is valuable, but not without this afterward. The message of the book, as I see it? Even smart, educated, self-sufficient, thoughtful women can get sucked into abusive relationships, and it will happen slowly, a little at a time, like a frog in a pot of cold water that is placed over a low flame, that even someone like me can, sometimes, be slowly boiled to death.

Well, she DID get shit for posting this, but I’m still glad she came forward. Even leaving out the gory details of the Cowboy’s abuse (which other bloggers and journalists have already covered ad nauseam), this is a nightmarish experience nobody should have to live through. Alisa Valdes has a long and muddled history to process here, and I don’t envy her the task. I hope she’s on a better road now.

I also hope this cautionary book she talks about does come to light; I’d buy it in a heartbeat. It could teach a lot of women not only about the perils of loving an abusive man, but the more insidious dangers of sticking with an irresponsible publisher.

And I’d leave that sugar-coated cowboy romance on the fiction shelf, where it belongs.

Stupid Sex Tricks: Christian love advice from Patwa

How do TV-watching Christians revive a flagging romance? Listen to these pearls from the lips of Marion “Pat” Robertson:

Gee, I wonder how Patwa’s missus feels knowing that she is to blame for him being such a horrible, oppressive, putschist old bore.