Monthly Archive for August, 2007

The continuing exploits of Britain’s merry rapists

Published by Twisty on August 31, 2007. 48 Comments

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Today’s unrelated photo is from my critically acclaimed series “The Airstream Creperies of Austin.” Flip Happy Crepes, August 2007.

Remember back in November of 2005? No? Then let me be your guide through the mists of time. November of 2005 is when Ontarioian (?) ass-carbuncle Jan Luedecke was acquitted of a rape charge on grounds that he ’suffers’ from a ‘medical condition’ known as ’sexsomnia’.

Sexsomnia! That’s when you skulk around getting shitfaced* and raping women as usual, except that when one of’em complains you just tell the judge you were sleepwalking at the time. Presto. You’re back to your normal liquor-and-predation schedule in no time.

In 2005 I predicted that we had not seen the last of the absurd sexsomnia defense; it was just too ripe with the lurid promise of possibility, in terms of both general misogyny and titillating headlines. And naturally I was right. Last January saw Adam Flockhart, the alkie perv in Edinburgh who got off with a slap on the wrist after mauling a sleeping woman (less than half his age, not that that’s either here or there). He couldn’t help it! He was drunk, he blacked out, he had no recollection!

And today we have Flockhart’s heir apparent, RAF serviceman and vodka enthusiast Kenneth Ecott, who attacked a 15-year-old girl and walked on accounta he has sexsomnia too.

These asinine cases are all adjudicated from — what else? — a rape-friendly, misogynist perspective. “He has no recollection and no control so he can’t be responsible.” But look here. Whether or not these assholes are or aren’t “suffering” from a “disorder” is completely irrelevant. From the point of view of the victim, a rape has occurred, with all the usual collateral damage, regardless of the degree of conscious malfeasance on the part of the perp. She couldn’t care less about the attacker’s “intent.” But of course it makes no nevermind to law enforcement that an actual crime has been experienced by an actual victim, as long as that victim is female, and the crime is rape.

I see this crap in my inbox every day: rape just isn’t a crime for which men can be held accountable. Society can’t allow it. If men could be punished for rape, it would mean that women — even those of us who aren’t respectable honky married virgins who nobly fight off our attackers to the point of visible physical injury — actually have a right not to be raped. Which would mean that we are not dirty subhuman inferiosas. Yet whenever anyone has the impertinence to suggest this world-order-toppling idea, a cry rises from the hivemind’s parochial throat: “This does not compute! The Collective depends on rape to preserve the global economy through a docile female underclass!” And the hive will go to absurd lengths to protect rapists. In fact, at least one American judge has offically downgraded “rape” to “sex” in an effort to convey that rape isn’t a crime at all. And now this “sexsomnia” bullshit? Enough already. Creeps whose lecherous urges are so profound they can’t keep it in their pants when they’re gorked need to either get it locked up or get it chopped off.
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* Note that in all three of these cases alcohol abuse on the part of the rapist was successfully argued to be a primary mitigating factor; in fact, “sexsomnia” only seems to rear its ugly dick when the perps are loaded. But whenever a female victim tests positive for even a drop of Scotch, the opposite contingency obtains; women who drink are universally tarts who are askin’ for it, and so are punished with public humiliation.

[Thanks, Debby]

Posted in Austin and Men Hate You. Bite me, Chad.

Chapter and verse

Published by Twisty on August 30, 2007. 55 Comments

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I was lying dormant around the patio at Flipnotics the other day, listening to Stingray decant her anguished soul of bilious stories about the racist old bat she works with, when suddenly there hove into view this strolling Jesus dude. He wore a Jesus outfit and, somewhat hilariously, bore his Jesus propaganda not like a chalice, but like a drum majorette’s baton.

It would’ve been even more burlesque and delightful if he’d been schlepping a giant rough-hewn wooden cross down Barton Springs Boulevard instead of flitting along with that flimsy little professionally printed placard. These traveling Jesus freaks today, I swear. No sense of authenticity, of theater, of poetry. Lazier’n spinster aunts, most of’em. But I suppose I should be grateful this guy wasn’t wearing a tie, ringing my doorbell, and trying to extort protection money.

The passage in the Christian self-help book to which the slogan-schlepping Jesus-dude’s sign alluded, if you can’t make it out from the picture, is Luke, chapter 6, verses 27 through 35 (see below). You’re reading this atheist blog, which means you’re probably no Bible scholar, so I’ll enlarge: it’s the bit where the mystic Jesus character pretty much stuffs the whole of Jesusian philosophy into an executive nutshell. You know, “love your enemy,” the part that Christian monarchs and popes and other godbag despots who claim divine rights appear never to have read. Probably because they prefer not to acknowledge that their holy superhero would subvert the venerable eye-for-an-eye scenario upon which the entire social order was, and still is, predicated. “It’s nice to be nice to the nice,” the little fellow seems to be saying, “but it’s fucking awesome to be nice to schmucks.”

Too bad the Bible never had a decent editor, someone more interested in the natural economy of truth than in patriarchy. The whole unsavory Christian culture-of-domination situation might have been avoided entirely if Luke chapter 6 verses 27 through 35 was all the godly types had to go on. Instead of all that crap about penis placement and unclean whores and don’t eat shrimp.

Anyway, I present herewith two versions of the passage in question. The first is from the lyric KJV. The second is from something called New American Standard Bible. P.U.! I imagine the New American Standard Bible was published so that New Americans — a patriotic euphemism for “morons”?– could sound out a higher percentage of the words, as well as be spared the terror and the taint of any accidental proximity to literature. As BibleGateway.com puts it, the “Old English” has been sanitized of, among other things, its apparently obfuscatory “thee’s and thou’s.”

Note that, although both versions presume that the default human and the default god are male, the New American Standard edition actually changes the word “children” to “sons,” presumably for the patriotic purpose of excluding women from the rewarding (though highly unpopular) pursuit of enemy-loving.

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But I say unto you which hear, Love your enemies, do good to them which hate you,

Bless them that curse you, and pray for them which despitefully use you.

And unto him that smiteth thee on the one cheek offer also the other; and him that taketh away thy cloak forbid not to take thy coat also.

Give to every man that asketh of thee; and of him that taketh away thy goods ask them not again.

And as ye would that men should do to you, do ye also to them likewise.

For if ye love them which love you, what thank have ye? for sinners also love those that love them.

And if ye do good to them which do good to you, what thank have ye? for sinners also do even the same.

And if ye lend to them of whom ye hope to receive, what thank have ye? for sinners also lend to sinners, to receive as much again.

But love ye your enemies, and do good, and lend, hoping for nothing again; and your reward shall be great, and ye shall be the children of the Highest: for he is kind unto the unthankful and to the evil.

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But I say to you who hear, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you,
bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you.

Whoever hits you on the cheek, offer him the other also; and whoever takes away your coat, do not withhold your shirt from him either.

Give to everyone who asks of you, and whoever takes away what is yours, do not demand it back.

Treat others the same way you want them to treat you.

If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them.

If you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners do the same.

If you lend to those from whom you expect to receive, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners in order to receive back the same amount.

But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return; and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High; for He Himself is kind to ungrateful and evil men.

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I’m sorry, but I can’t get behind this ill-advised substitution of the word “hit” for “smite.” And I don’t see how the delusional fanatics can, either; don’t they require giddy romance to complete the fantasy? Once you toddlerize the poetry out of it, a bible’s just fanfic.

Say, is there any real Jesus fanfic? You bet there is! Of the slash variety? Heck yeah!

Posted in Austin and Godbagism. Bite me, Chad.

Prickly pear phone home

Published by Twisty on August 26, 2007. 34 Comments

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The cactuses at El Rancho Deluxe, I swear. Hours of compelling entertainment.

Prickly pears can also be made into a handy and garish pink syrup to enhance the spinster aunt’s Number 1 coping mechanism, the pitcher of margaritas.* As if their comedic talent weren’t enough!
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* Put on gloves. Pick a bunch of prickly pears. Throw a lime and this bunch of prickly pears into your juicer. Juice. Add some simple syrup. Sluice into pitcher of margaritas. Swill while lounging in reclining deck chair.

Posted in El Rancho Deluxe. Bite me, Chad.

World’s worst boss

Published by Twisty on August 24, 2007. 90 Comments

Remember that buttmunch coffee drive-thru in Seattle where the baristas all have to dress like sexischoolgirls in order to deliver that all-important bodaciousness to their pornsick customers? Well, when the dude owner of a coffee joint in Monroe, WA decided to buy into the franchise, and revealed to the staff that they would now be expected to make with the cleavage, they all quit.

That’s right. There are women out there who, even in the face of looming mortgage payments, are in no mood for a pimpulational boss and a leering clientele. Reading this made the Twisty heart soar with the eagles in the smoggy particulate matter!

But then the Twisty heart crashed into a stripper pole. The pimpy boss says he has had no trouble at all replacing the baristas with a new batch of women (we’re interchangeable) who are not so overburdened with a well-developed sense of self that they would disdain to trade humiliation for cash.

This is an example of the rapid rate at which porn normalizes itself and promotes the preservation of the sex caste. Last January it was considered news that Seattle coffee shops should sell sex at all. But today, a mere 8 months later, the take-this-job-and-shove-it baristas are such an anomaly that they made it to the TV news.

[Thanks, JP]

Posted in Sexploitation. Bite me, Chad.

Sting-a-rama

Published by Twisty on August 23, 2007. 50 Comments

Hold onto your hats. There’s police corruption in Kalamazoo.

I know; it’s hard to believe. As is the fact that it involves a 2003 “prostitute sting.” O how Americans, excepting those self-interested pornsick idealists who think legalizing it would solve all the problems of the universe, love love love a “prostitute sting.” Because just who do those whores think they are?

And you know what else? Americans love to be incredulous when cops (and soldiers) turn out to be amoral pricks. “This casts a shadow over the whole department,” some ‘deeply saddened’ honcho always intones puritanically from a lectern, “but don’t worry, it’s a case of one-bad-apple.” Because the occupation of paid enforcer normally attracts serene, conciliatory, well-adjusted philosophers.

The specifics of the Kalamazoo case are cloaked in murk — the news report contains so many typos, and so little information — but apparently one of the “prostitute sting’s” gotcha! undercover cops enjoyed a blow job from a “call girl”; subsequently her client list — supposedly containing the names of more law enforcement dudes — mysteriously disappeared from evidence. Also at issue are allegations that city officials withheld public information concerning the case, yadda yadda. The Kalamazoo Gazette maintains that “you should care about [some random 4-year-old] prostitution investigation” — not because a woman’s human rights were violated — but because tax dollars were wasted.

But these particulars are irrelevant in the context of the global women-as-toilets continuum. A dude commercially used a prostituted woman, but the only reason anybody gives a flip is that a) the abuser was a cop, a guy who theoretically is remunerated by a grateful public for Upholding the Law with Honor but who, it turns out, has been drawing his salary in bad faith, and b) the dirty whore never did get collared.

Honorable men in public service don’t use prostituted women. This is one of the cozy tales male supremacy tells itself, so when it looks in the mirror it can gaze upon a more noble reflection. It is satisfied of its nobility because it restricts its toiletizing of women to its wives, as per the instructions of its invisible patriarchy-loving celestial handler. But, with occasional exceptions proving the rule, the honorable public servant is a myth. For those trusted guardians of patriarchal tradition, from Bill Clinton on down to the Kalamazoo cop, violating women’s human rights is a tiptoe through the tulips. I know this because Google Alerts constantly updates me on the prostitutional sexploits of America’s bureaucrats and other “prominent white collar professionals.” I get three or four or eight of these every day. There are millions of prostituted women worldwide, hundreds of thousands in the US alone, three hundred thousand of which are estimated to be children.[1] One now hears, unsurprisingly, of Iraqi women[2] forced into military prostitution as a result of war, and the Internet continues to broaden pimps’ horizons [3]. Somebody has to be using all these women and girls. Who better than the Neanderthals who seek out jobs to monitor them, prosecute them, and punish them?

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1. Sheila Jeffreys. The Idea of Prostitution. Spinifex Press, 1997, p.308.

2. Trendily, CNN alludes to this as a “choice” the women make.

3. The mayor of Atlanta thinks Craigslist is to blame for the rise in child trafficking.

Posted in Sexploitation and The megatheocorporatocracy. Bite me, Chad.

I don’t know if real feminists eat this or not

Published by Twisty on August 22, 2007. 13 Comments

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Pressing spinster auntly business (I have to lounge by a pool again, dammit) will keep me away from my desk today, but I can’t see leaving yall without a photograph of some quiche. From the Blue Star Cafeteria. Which is a dumb name for a restaurant that isn’t a cafeteria.

Posted in Austin and Morsel Institute. Bite me, Chad.

The Procrastination Chronicles

Published by Twisty on August 20, 2007. 30 Comments

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Today’s unrelated arachnid predation photo: Spinybacked orbweaver weaves orb outside Twisty kitchen window; eats head off bee. Gasteracantha cancriformis, North South Austin, August 2007.

As longtime readers know, so that I can stay on top of developments in my field, Google sends me news’n'blog alerts, to the tune of hundreds a day, on topics relevant to spinster aunting. Dogs. Weird scientific research. Cool Whip. Only occasionally do I force myself to look through the ones on depressing stuff like feminism, abortion, or godbags. But that’s precisely what I did today.

Why?

For purposes of sloth! If I’m reading about how Log Cabin Republicans have launched a “video attack” on Rudy Giuliani, I can justify not running around town reading to the sick, or failing to grow up.

Of course, in order to more completely delude myself that information from the Internet improves me to a greater degree than chores, I need to turn it into a blog post. Toward that end I herewith present a small but representative sampling of web-based misogyny, godbaggery, and buffoonery culled from the Google alerts that showed up in my inbox over the course of just a few hours this morning. I’m omitting from the pool the zillion or so mainstream news items pertaining to violence against women; the sheer volume in that category is overwhelming.

Well, except for the report on this astonishing survey from the Uganda Bureau of Statistics, which reveals, among other horrors, that 60% of men and 70% of women “believe that there are some situations in which a husband is justified when he beats his wife.” Pack that in your bong and hit it, patriarchy-deniers!

Meanwhile, this woman thinks that females, with their well-known predisposition toward mindless violence, shouldn’t be permitted to carry designer Tasers. Women, she argues — apparently basing her views on the behavior of that diaper-wearin’ astronaut who is so exemplary of all women everywhere — are such irrational flibbertygibbets, they might easily go off the deep end, Taser in hand. Somebody might get hurt!

This guy thinks that his job as a respectable white male tour guide in Germany is just like being a prostituted woman. Seriously, it’s the same exact thing! Why? Because sometimes his clients buy him drinks and “extra enthusiasm makes [him] much more money” (his “I am a prostitute” statement seems to be the product of an unsettled mind; in the post immediately preceding, he declares himself a “teacher/professor”).

Speaking of prostituted women, news that a Detroit ’sheriff’s deputy’s wife’* has been charged with solicitation continues to generate such thoughtful commentary as “can’t turn a whore into a housewife!” Media reports about women charged with prostitution, all of which employ the lively term “sting operation,” are nearly as numerous as those about murdered and raped women, and foster much dudely sniggering. Stories about johns getting busted? Not so much.

Contrary to what certain blamers have suggested, there are insane antifeminists in Canada: The distraught dude president of godbaggy Vote Life, Canada! responds poetically and threateningly to the news that Amnesty International has officially come out against compulsory pregnancy, and to the grim realization that not only are some members of Amnesty International probably Catholics, but that the sect’s pointy-headed bishops did not strike these heretics dead on the spot: “Woe to the Catholic Bishops of Canada who now share in the blood of a new and vast ocean of murdered Unborns appearing just on the horizon.”

“Murdered Unborns,” eh? And tell me, were they once mortal men of great power who became neither alive nor dead under the power of the Nine Rings? What next, I wonder? “Revenge of the Unborns”? Or “Thingonomicon: Book of the Foetuses”?

And some dudes debate abortion, with hilarious results! I mean, it wouldn’t be humor if nobody referenced a hand job.
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* In accordance with Natural Law, her actual name doesn’t usually appear in these reports until a subsequent paragraph, it being of secondary importance to her marital status.

Posted in Blogulation, Godbagism, Mass Media, Men Hate You, Sexploitation and Varmint Center. Bite me, Chad.

The Fucking Pedantic Asshole Chronicles

Published by Twisty on August 20, 2007. 75 Comments

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Unrelated Hill Country Flood photo of the day: My critically-acclaimed golden retriever Bert taunts fate at the brink of deluge. El Rancho Deluxe, August 2007.

You know how you’re sauntering along through your life minding your own beeswax, and some sexist shit goes down, and you, a feminist, naturally respond as one who is sick and tired of sexist shit, perhaps saying aloud in mixed company “that’s some pretty sexist shit, yo,” and your unwillingness to just laugh it off with the rest of the ladies raises the hackles of some asshole pedantic dude who then, out of his profound concern for your well-being, tries to rescue you from pariah-dom, lavishing you with the benefit of his superior grasp of the human condition by setting you straight on the distaste with which every other rational person on Earth regards ‘feminism’? Perhaps even adding that if you really want to get anywhere with your arguments, you’ll get better at appeasing your oppressor with a more solicitous, more conciliatory, more sexyfun tone?

It’s time to stop suffering these ‘intellectual’ arguments with our dudely ‘friends’. They are unwinnable. This is not because the feminist position is flawed. In fact, the premise from which radical feminism proceeds, that women are human, is unassailable by any but the most fanatical, deluded, small-minded swine. No, these dude-arguments are unwinnable because it’s not a fair fight. The fucking pedantic assholes hold the advantage in every respect. Not the least of which is that they get to argue for the dominant paradigm from a cushy, privileged spot within the dominant paradigm, whereas the feminist must simultaneously argue for a wholly imaginary model (a surreal bizarro-world where she is fully human), from that wholly imaginary model, all the while resisting the overwhelming pull exerted by the old familiar patriarchal exemplar — making smiling, head-tilting concessions.

But the fucking pedantic asshole’s primary advantage is that he is motivated not by intellectual curiosity, but by the vulgar patriarchal domination imperative. He’s not really about discourse at all. He fakes you out by getting you to intone your feminist manifesto, but he’s really just baiting you for the old put-a-sock-in-it-or-the-consequences-will-be-dire gambit. The fucking pedantic asshole has made the exciting discovery that he can dominate the women in his midst merely by threatening to revoke that most golden and priceless of gifts: his favor. In generously condescending to converse with a member of the sex caste, these putzes pretend to want to engage in serious philosoph-socio-political debate, but their only real interest lies in forcing the uppity feminist to submit to their awesome power.

Fortunately, (perhaps because it doesn’t exist), nowhere in the Handbook of Radical Feminist Etiquette does it state that one is obligated to try to convince or win over or convert or reassure aggressively antifeminist dudes. The path to enlightenment is, for such amoral lost-cause pricks, beyond the purview of women. We’ve got our own problems.

“Not interested, Fucking Pedantic Asshole. Your argument is too unsophisticated for me to take seriously.”

It turns out I’m not the only one who holds this view. A kindly blamer suggested I check out blogger Dizzy’s account of an encounter with one of these cretinous antifeminist buttmunches. Some chump at a party actually passed her a note explaining her shortcomings as a feminist. Read the whole post. It will resonate. It sounded so familiar I had to check to make sure I hadn’t written it myself. Quoth Dizzy:

I know it must be hard to fathom that a girl doesn’t care what a smart man thinks about the thing that she cares most about in the world, or that there’s a movement that exists that doesn’t much take into consideration what men have to say on the topic. I know I’m supposed to 1) nod thoughtfully as I process your wisdom, asking clarifying questions about your points just in case I don’t immediately understand something you say, and then 2) offer up some powerful and intelligent argument on why feminism is important, and then 3) try to prove my point with examples from women in politics and a few stories about my grandmother, but of course, in the end, 4) concede that yes, you have some very good points that I will certainly think about, and thank you for educating me about feminism and correcting me on those things I didn’t fully understand about women and the world.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: the patriarchal position is irrelevant to feminist theory, and the substance of feminism, the value of the liberation of women, is not itself a legitimate subject for debate among rational beings.

Posted in Dear god what about the men?, Men Hate You and Varmint Center. Bite me, Chad.

High praise from the blogosphere

Published by Twisty on August 19, 2007. 26 Comments

“The more I think and read, the more Twisty Faster makes sense, which bothers me, somehow.” — this dude Bruce

Posted in Blogulation. Bite me, Chad.

UterusWatch 2007

Published by Twisty on August 19, 2007. 42 Comments

Fans of compulsory pregnancy should be pleased that a new law in Missouri, taking effect next week, will put the government all up in women’s business and further solidify the state’s claim to ownership of American uteruses. The law twists the coathanger in several gruesome and trendy directions. For instance, suddenly abortion clinics will have to become ‘ambulatory surgical centers’, which are subject to unnecessary government regulation and are vastly more expensive to maintain. A clinic in Columbia, MO, home of the University of Missouri, will have to shut down unless Planned Parenthood can cough up the $2 million for renovations. Leaving thousands of women in the lurch.

Not only that, but representatives of Planned Parenthood and other abortion providers will be barred from anything to do with sex education (teaching, educational pamphlets illustrated with cross-sections of gonads, et al) in public schools. Instead, abstinence programs — where the gym teacher says “grow an iron hymen or Jesus will kill your parents” — will receive funding. This should be a real godsend for compulsory pregnancy advocates whose niche-fetish is loving teen pregnancy.

Last but not least — my personal favorite — the law will rubberstamp a program that gives grants to compulsory pregnancy centers where embryos are promoted as sacred fairies encrusted with their mothers’ entire sense of self-worth.

Planned Parenthood is suing for an injunction.

It may be too late for Missouri, but have you heard what’s about to go down in Ohio? Check out this troglodyte state house bill, HB 287. No time to read tiresome legislation? Here’s the money shot: Anyone seeking an abortion first has to secure the “written informed consent” of the father. Don’t know who the father is? You have to buy paternity tests for the usual suspects. Were you raped? Relive the experience by providing proof of this to your abortion provider. Think you’ll get your best gay dude friend to fake consent for you? It’s “abortion fraud,” a first degree misdemeanor. If you commit a second abortion fraud, it’s a felony.

This bill is actually being framed in terms of the terrible unfairness to men presented by the idea of woman’s personal bodily sovereignty.

So in Ohio, the state is generous with its awesome power. It has faith in its male citizens. And to demonstrate that faith, it’s willing to cede ownership of your uterus to your asshole ex-boyfriend.

* * * * * *

Oh, and an FYI: the next time you’re in a hot debate with an embryo-worshiper, and she trots out that tired old crap about how abortions — particularly medical (RU486) abortions — cause complications in later pregnancies, tell her that the New England Journal of Medicine just published findings that abortions of any sort have no impact on subsequent reproductive efforts.

Posted in Compulsory pregnancy, Dear god what about the men? and Politics. Bite me, Chad.