Monthly Archive for July, 2008

How bigotry works

It will come as no surprise to you that one of the most requested articles at the website How Stuff Works is — you guessed it — “How Women Work.”

How Stuff Works, which purports to expose the intricacies of such eternal mysteries as How Restaurant Pagers Work, How Becoming a Roadie Works, and How to Use Vinegar in Your Laundry, at last reveals the simple but hitherto unknowable truth of that mystifying sex machine, women.

“But Twisty,” you say, having thumbed through the article and noticed that it actually sort of debunks some popular myths about the weaker sex. Possibly you have even noticed that there is also an article entitled “How Men Work,” showing that the website doesn’t even single women out as explicable ’stuff’. “What’s the beef?”

I’ll tell you. It isn’t just this one article. What chaps the Twisty hide is that men and women are always cast as separate, opposing entities, and that nobody thinks this is weird at all. That this is the case is the direct result of enduring, but bogus, patriarchal constructs. Such as the one that goes “biology is destiny.”

Like all articles “explaining” women, “How Women Work” mostly just enumerates the physiological differences between men and women. Compared to men, women are different. Different chromosomes. Different hormones. Different stature. Different naughty bits. That’s because women may only be understood in terms of deviation from the recognized absolute: men. Even as they refute a stereotype or two, articles such as “How Women Work” only emphasize these minute and essentially irrelevant differences. The tired old focus on reproduction, with the little chromosome diagrams and cutesy animated fallopian tube cartoons, seems to put scientific weight behind the idea that sex bias is a legitimate bias.

When it’s not sex, it’s brains.

The section “Women: Brains, Bodies and Barbies,” I’m not even kidding, sums up in a couple of paragraphs all of female experience (as it relates to how women “work” in terms of men), which is apparently limited to the gripping question of whether or not we are genetically indisposed toward math.

Ah, math, the traditional purview of dudes, they of the 6.5 times more math-o-centric gray matter [see below]; the “hard” subject the apprehension of which determines whether a person may be taken seriously in a man’s world. I’m so sick of this math thing. Math! Who sits around doing math? Men? Come on. Men sit around looking at porn.

But still: can women really do math? The world awaits the mind-blowing answer:

“A large-scale analysis of data [...] suggests that there’s very little difference between men and women’s abilities in math.”

Apparently there is this thing called “stereotype threat” which just might play a part in standardized test scores when women are tested on math in the presence of dudes. The article does not discuss possible origins of the stereotype threat. We are left to draw our own conclusions concerning the deleterious effects of a dominant class on an oppressed one.

How Stuff Works throws women another bone with this stunning revelation:

Sex hormones can affect a woman’s emotions and physiology throughout most of her life. But contrary to some people’s perceptions, they’re not responsible for every facet of her behavior.

No shit? Women aren’t insensate slaves to their primordial ladyparts, tearing through their lives on menses-stained runaway hormone roller coasters? Who would’ve thought that so many “people’s perceptions” could have gone so far awry? What in the world could have contributed to the pervasive idea that women are gossipy shoe-obsessed flakes whereas men are large and in charge, when clearly the facts show otherwise?

The only real, appreciable “difference” between men and women is the fact that one group is privileged over the other. Physiology, biology, chemistry — none of these things is as absolute as women’s oppression. Take me for example. As a result of primitive cancer treatments, I possess very few of the most popular woman-specific attributes. No boobs. No estrogen. No uterus. No ovaries. My “difference” from men has been drastically reduced. I fucking look like a dude. That I am still considered a woman has nothing to do with “How Women Work.” It has to do with how patriarchy works.

Incidentally, I found this “How Women Work” article through this dude’s blog. He is ecstatic to have discovered it. “It’s like,” he pants, “a combination of Women for Dummies, Everything You Wanted to Know About Women But Was Afraid to ask [sic], and Women, The Missing Manual.” Blogger dude’s “favorite factoid”?

Men have 6.5 times more gray matter in their brains than women do. Women have 10 times more white matter. Gray matter creates processing centers in the brain, and white matter creates the connections between them. In other words, men have lots of areas for processing concrete data — like mathematical equations — and women have lots of connections that allow them to see and process patterns.

“Everyone,” opines blogger dude, “who wants to stay married or market stuff to women should read this.”

Blogger dudes sure like it when internet “science” articles “prove” that misogynist bigotry is reasonable. And profitable.

Breaking! Some famous guy said something! Must credit Famous Soviet Athlete!

To further accentuate my laziness, in lieu of an original post, I reproduce here in its entirety an email from Famous Soviet Athlete. She suggests, for my viewing pleasure, a YouTube interview with Noam Chomsky, about Noam Chomksy’s 2004 (or 2005) interview in Hustler magazine.

Not to applaud him for stating the obvious or anything, but here’s Chomsky talking about why he’s not a fan of porn.

(If it isn’t there maybe you can find it here. While searching youtube I also unearthed another version that had Chomsky’s voice dubbed over by a porn enthusiast. Surprisingly, it wasn’t funny at all!)

Your quality friend,
Famous Soviet Athlete

It’s kind of funny to hear Chomsky disavow, in his eccentric-white-haired-professor way, any prior acquaintance with “the Hustler.” Is such a contingency even possible for a white English-speaking dude? Just how reliable a narrator is this Chomsky character?

Update: Blamer Samantha sent me a similar email that I didn’t find until just now. Clearly, Samantha, you and Famous Soviet Athlete should get married. If marriage weren’t a tool of the patriarchy.

Blamers, coddle the dudes so I don’t have to

If you’re contemplating sending me an email about how my Dear god what about the men?! page is full of nothing but broken links, contemplate no more. Relieve your worried mind. Rest easy. I have been fully apprised.

If you are new to this blog: the “Dear god what about the men?!” page contains (now defunct, apparently) links to non-IBTP blog posts addressing what I Blame the Patriarchy disdains to address, namely, why the grumpy feminists don’t feel like giving men Good Conduct Medals for not being rapists. And stuff like that. I thought it might reduce the amount of comment space that is routinely wasted in explaining male privilege to callow male commenters.

As you know, feminists expend 90% of their feminist energy giving feminism lessons to dudes. The remaining 10% is spent giving feminism lessons to other feminists (there are some feminists who give 110%. You hear about them only infrequently, and only then because they’ve scared the shit out of everyone).

Anyway, because this blog isn’t for men, I never did much with the men-page, and I have little inclination to update it now. Oddly, it appears, judging from the number of concerned messages I’ve gotten regarding the broken links, that the need for such a thing exists. In the first place, as the one would-be male commenter who ever read the FAQ has pointed out in a recent email, reading the suggested whataboutthemen articles is apparently a prerequisite for posting on this blog, but the broken links are thwarting him. Poor would-be male commenter. Caught in the spinster aunt’s infinite recursion.

Also, apparently regular people believe they can use whataboutthemen literature to educate those of their dude friends who find their killjoy feminist ways tiresome. Who knows? Maybe they can. Thus I now do what I always do when readers need something from me that I am too lazy to deliver: I pass it along to the Blametariat.

Got a link to something that bothers to take men by the hand and coddle them with gentle reassurances into contemplating the cuckoo idea that women are human beings? Or maybe you’ve got your own eloquent spiel? Post it, chiquita! This will become the new “Dear god what about the men?!” page, and I can go back to the barn and brush my horse. Or, just blow this off. I wouldn’t blame you.

Since a popular suggestion is likely to be the excellent Finally, a Feminism 101 Blog, I’ll get it out of the way first. Happy dude-coddling.

Spinster aunt wipes tear from eye

Over this morning’s coffee I had the pleasure of reading about the arrest of a Nova Scotia groper. And by “pleasure” I mean “blechy feeling.”

Oh, this groper isn’t any different from all the other gropers I’ve read about during my long career of groper-blaming: young Doug Schrader flits about the countryside feeling up women and jerking off in public. Gross, yeah, but what really curled the Twisty lip was this comment by prosecutor Christine Driscoll, who is apparently crippled with ambivalence on the subject of what to do with the little perv:

“We really want to see what’s going on with him, what’s leading to this behaviour.”

I’ll help you out, lady. Here’s what’s leading to his behavior: Schrader merely acts on the patriarchal mandate to view all public women as receptacles for his dudeliness. He is the logical result of rape culture.

Taking his cue from the slew of public Spitzeresque figures who’ve been busted for antisocial pervitude and are surprised to discover that they don’t live in a personal rape-is-OK bubble, Schrader has “apologized,” claiming, despite some rather damning evidence to the contrary, that he’s “not that type of person.”

Apologies have nothing to do with actual remorse anymore. Nowadays, when criminals apologize, what they mean is, “Fine. I got caught. Please don’t put me in prison.”

It’s the systemic misogyny exemplified by douchebags like Schrader that makes me weep brokenly for the tragic earnestness of women such as these, who are desperate to convince themselves that “all women’s bodies are beautiful and richly fantastic no matter what shape, size, age, race, or background.”

The 100 Idaho women to whom I allude have organized an exhibit of women’s self-esteem “art.” The project consists of plaster casts of their torsos, which they have decorated and put on public display “in celebration of all who choose to express their own unique selves through art.”

The heart bleeds for these women. Their task — like that of all who struggle against monolithic oppression — is of Sisyphean proportions. They may yearn to demonstrate that, with their painted boob-casts, they are “the subject, rather than the object of art,” but in our porn-based society — where the behavior of a common groper mystifies authorities — they haven’t got a spinster aunt’s chance at a Suicide Girls convention.

Sisters ordainin’ it for themselves, part 2

It is difficult for an atheist such as myself to get too worked up over the internecine squabbles of various religious sects. Universally, religions are nothing but skeletons from which hangs the greasy blubber of patriarchal ideology. Even when they’re not overtly oppressing women — although I’ve never met a religion that wasn’t — they’re spreading crazy rumors, clinging to outdated cultural identities, and dominating people. So it is with mixed feelings when I read that another edgy bunch of renegade Boston Catholics has ordained 3 women as priests, and that, predictably, the devout godliness of the faithful is so offended by this unholy insubordination that the “womenpriest” pretenders must be excommunicated.

On one hand, putting pointy hats on women exposes the misogyny of the mothership religion, and, as exposing misogyny is the life’s work of the spinster aunt, I have to give the renegades blaming points for that.

On the other hand, even if Catholicism were completely taken over by women, it would still be an instrument of ignorance and delusion, on accounta it’s a religion.

Overall, I declare it a wash.

I bore you with this tedious preamble merely to present you with this comment from a Boston Globe reader, who writes,

THE CONTESTED ordination of women to the Catholic priesthood presents an interesting dilemma to the Roman Catholic hierarchy which so far has declared the participants to be neither Catholic nor priests and the ordination and subsequent service invalid. Wouldn’t it be easier to simply declare the participants not women?

Now we’re cookin’ with gas! Everybody should be declared not women. It would solve everything.

Read Part 1 (it’s funnier).

Women-as-chattel interlude with Feminist Daily News

Meanwhile, in Afghanistan, while privileged Western dudes continue to reward funfeminists who “choose” to ironically embrace the hilarious trappings of rape culture, the ripples they make in the global misogyny continuum aren’t so funny: “I am a widow and I have to feed my five children. I am illiterate and no one will give me a job. I hate to be a prostitute but if I stop doing this job my children will starve to death.”

Women-as-chattel interlude with The Apostate

Have you ever employed a man named Dirt — yup, Dirt — to build you a mile-long ranch road of decomposed granite? Well, I have, and it’s been quite an adventure. In fact, the adventure is just reaching its climax today. So away I hie to the Hill Country to inspect assorted trenches, ditches, and culverts, leaving you with with this from The Apostate (a 25-year-old ex-Muslim raised-in-Saudi-Arabia Pakistani blogger living in San Francisco). She writes a brief but enlightening feminist critique of the travel restrictions on women in Saudi Arabia and the Islamic “mahram” thing.

What’s a mahram?

[A] male “guardian” that all women have, regardless of age, who acts in their stead in public life and is supposed to accompany a woman on long journeys (such as in travel abroad). This is an Islamic rule. Need I put it more clearly? It’s an Islamic rule.

Well. Saudi Arabia is joining the electronic revolution. Should you wish to go flitting about the countryside, you can now get a permission slip from your mahram online.

The woman’s mahram will remain the one in authority to issue this online clearance. All the mahram has to do is use the secret code number given to him as a subscriber by the Passport Department to carry out online services, and provide the clearance on the e-document with that number. The woman then has to print the approval and take it with her to the airport before traveling.

Ay yi yi.

Pornulation empowerfulizes us, say humorous ironic hotties

Gawd, remember that hipster burlesque crap from the 90’s? I thought it was over, but no, it lives on. An article in today’s Kansas City Star about a “neo-burlesque” show in town is headlined thusly: “Burlesque’s practitioners find humor, art and feminism in their risqué shows”.

Fun feminism, that is.”Neo” burlesque is funny and ironic, see. So it’s rebellious and iconoclastic and artsy. The Star runs a photo to illustrate the pertinent bits of the story. The photo is of neo-burlesque practitioner Honey Valentine’s headless, enbustiered torso.

Burlesque practitioner and funfeminist Lola Van Ella says “[What’s happening now is a feminist movement in burlesque] because it’s women saying, ‘I can be ultra feminine and I can shave and wear makeup and red lipstick and G-strings and pasties. Men may or may not enjoy it, but I’m doing it for myself.’”

How is fun-feminism different from regular feminism? Not at all, except that it’s antifeminist. It’s when you capitulate to, participate in, embrace, and openly promote rape culture in exchange for approval, claiming that it empowerfulizes you.

Van Ella said that contemporary burlesque appeals to both genders and that she has as many female fans as guys. And there’s a reason: Modern burlesque performers are clearly in charge of their own destiny.

“I have nothing against commercial stripping as a business, but it is that,” she said. “It’s a sales job. But burlesque is a tease, and that is the big difference. The woman doing it is completely in control of her own sexuality. She decides. And she says, ‘I’m gonna give you this much but not any more and if you want more you’ll have to beg.’”

Are you fucking kidding me?

It sorely chaps the Twisty hide when women get all cutesy with pornulation, misconstruing irony for agency.

The idea that women’s public sexuality can so precisely mirror traditional male fantasy while simultaneously existing in a kind of pro-woman, I-do-it-for-myself alternate universe is the cornerstone of funfeminist “thought.” The flaw in this reasoning is that all women must participate in patriarchy regardless of what they say motivates their participation; patriarchy is the dominant culture, and there is no opting out. Which means there is no opting in, either. Do it for me, do it for you, whatever; the primary beneficiaries of women’s participation — willing or unwilling, ironic or sincere — in patriarchy, are men.

Musical interlude with Nellie McKay

venus.jpg

I was sitting around in my interior designer Ed’s studio yesterday. In willing compliance with my request to help me “funny up” the new Spinster HQ at El Rancho Deluxe, he was showing me pictures of some offbeat lamps for my office. One of these was a white plastic Venus de Milo bust that glows from within.

“I dunno, man,” I said. “There are feminist implications.”

Ed’s response was to whip out the laptop and play me this video.

Egypt’s national pastime

In case you were wondering, two-thirds of Egyptian men cop to sexually harassing women. Naturally it’s the women’s fault. So sayeth a Reuters report on a survey conducted by an Egyptian women’s rights group. The group has noted that street harassment is epidemic in their country. Like it is everywhere.

“The vast majority of women did nothing when confronted with sexual harassment,” the survey said, adding that most Egyptian women believed the victim should “remain silent”.

Some 53 percent of men blamed women for bringing on sexual harassment, saying they enjoyed it or were dressed in a way deemed indecent. Some women agreed.

“Out of Egyptian women and men interviewed, most believe that women who wear tight clothes deserve to be harassed,” the survey said. It added most agreed women should be home by 8 p.m.

Although a sexxxy lady walking down the street is clearly asking for it, piling on pious yards of cloth doesn’t appear to protect Egyptian women from jeering, ogling, and weener-wagging; the study says most of the women reported being “dressed conservatively“ when their harassment ocurred.

Egypt, the US, wherever; a woman in public, the world over, is either a prostituted woman, or is trespassing on traditional male territory, and is fair game either way. Street harassment is a convenient method by which men can enjoy participating in rape culture, whenever the urge strikes, without going to too much trouble.