Here’s Your Fucking Cookie, also DDR is Not a Mating Dance

You know what I’m getting super sick of.

Other women.

Get back here, let me finish.

Other women, who in the face of hearing women like yours truly talk about something that affects our lives, like street harassment, online harassment, job and wage inequality, when some asshole said something sexist, etc, will jump in ass-first to inform us that they’re just fine.

“Why don’t you just ignore it?”
“What’s wrong with you, can’t you just deal?”
“Why are you being so hysterical?”
“It’s just life/a complement!”
“This is why people HATE feminists!”

And the most infuriating:

“I’ve been assaulted/harassed/raped and I handled it just fine. Why can’t you?”

They pretty much boil down to “Why aren’t you like me?” and “Quit making a fuss already.” And seriously, fuck all of that.

Firstly, if you’re a survivor, congrats. Honestly.  That shit can be life changing, and you’re doing the best you can.  You go, Glen Coco.

BUT, you don’t get to hop into another survivor’s space to tell them that they’re the ones in the wrong for their reaction, if it’s anxiety or railing against the society that allow this treatment of women.  That makes you an asshole of the first, second, and last water. People get to react the way that works for them, okay?

But hey, you super special Wonder Woman who possesses the exact correct way to handle trauma that doesn’t require changing our society, I don’t understand your need to dismiss other’s experiences.  Especially if a dude is already up in the mix doing the same fucking thing.  Are you looking for a cookie or something?  A “Congrats, You’re Better Than All The Ladies” ribbon? A pat on the head?

Because let me tell you something; harassment IS a big deal.  You might not be aware of this, but a simple Google search will show you the myriad of articles and Tweets and organizations all dedicated to exposing the problem and/or finding way to stop it. I would put down some links here, but it’s not my fucking job to do your homework.

Cats and kittens, I’m gonna tell you a little story about harassment.  Maybe we can get through it without the ass-first inclusion of apologists.  Let see!

When I was a younger hottie, Dance Dance Revolution was a Big Fucking Deal.  Machines were in a lot of arcades, people were jumping up and down in their own homes, there were competitions everydamnwhere.  It was awesome.  I had more than a couple of friend who Danced Danced their way into losing excess weight.  It combined the two things I then loved to do the most: Play video games and dance.

Now I wasn’t big on waiting in line or anything, so I found a machine in an arcade in Underground Atlanta, which is like a shopping mall, but underground (surprise!).  Usually someone was just getting off the machine or there would someone waiting when I was done.  It was nice, I didn’t feel like I had to impress fellow players. And I tried a few things, like turning the step-step-steps into something like dance moves, it was great for my anxiety.

Usually.  There were guys who were obviously not waiting in line for who a woman on a game like that was far too interesting.  Trying to take the break in the song “Dive”, to run around the back of the machine sometimes ended with me nearly careening into guys who was standing WAY TOO CLOSE to even watch the screen. Or the guys who try to hit on me while I was playing, because I certainly have the attention span to try to play a game I paid for and politely tell a guy “no thank you”.

And then there were the moments after I was done playing and wanted to leave.

“Hey baby, that looked good.”

“Hey girl, where you going?”

“You dance real good”

You gotta man?(shameless blog post plug!!)

Then there were the followers who insisted that I didn’t hear them properly when I booked it out of there at top speed.  And if it wasn’t for the fact that I was super worried about being followed all the way back to the train or worse, I probably would have happily informed these walking boners that I WASN’T PERFORMING A FUCKING MATING DANCE.

I wasn’t doing it for attention, I wasn’t trying to be a tease, I wore jeans and t-shirt and occasional a tank top because shit gets sweaty after a round, and while my badonkadonk was pretty slamming back then, I sure as shit didn’t need the verification of a complete fucking stranger. I spent about a summer doing that…and then stopped. It was too much – didn’t help my anxiety at all.

So now what?  Was I being too sensitive?  Maybe the guy telling me I danced real well was just trying to pay me friendly “not informing me of the state of his dick” complement.  Maybe I was being super rude, by leaving as quickly as possible when my coins ran out and not acknowledging their praise?  Or maybe I’m just being a delicate flower, unable to deal with life.

Let me inform you of something, you with the  “Congrats, You’re Better Than All The Ladies” ribbon and the cookie, you aren’t saying shit I haven’t said to myself.  A lot of victims/survivors blame themselves in the exact same way you are chiding us. So not only are you busting in on a conversation that you weren’t invited to, but you’re not even saying anything new. So really, what use are you here anyway other than to stroke your own #notallwomen ego?

What’s worse, you’re giving cover to the jerks in the world, to the oversensitive flowers of manhood who get all in their feelings when a woman speaks or otherwise indicates disinterest. Today I honest to goodness saw a woman type:

” This is why men are becoming afraid to date and marry women because this hysteria has gotten completely out of hand.”

I would have provided a screenshot, but looks like that asshole got blocked, and rightfully so, because that is some bullshit.  This is some MRA, “women run things with their vagina and boo on them for denying us that”, rank ass bullshit.

So, in conclusion, fuck the men they protect who already jump ass-first to tell us how wrong or hysterical we’re being, but double plus super fuck these women for trying to deny other women our experiences and our attempts to change the way society treats women. If you can deal with street harassment, great. No one’s stopping you. If you survived an assault or a rape and are ‘okay’, depending on your definition of ‘okay’, then great. No one is trying to take that away from you.   I’m not gonna jump into your shit and tell you you’re doing it wrong.

It is too much to fucking ask that you don’t do the same to us?


P.S. This entire conversation works wonderfully in other situations with other minorities as well.

Here’s Your Fucking Cookie, also DDR is Not a Mating Dance

Because I’m Fresh out of Fucks to Give

(Trying it again, because I hit the Publish button WAY TOO SOON)

Okay, so I love parodies, and I love writing parodies.  My brain has been busy with dealing with the recent fuckery in the atheoskeptical circles with regards to sexism and accusations of rape and wagon circling that is almost Vatican-like.  I have read posts and comments and a couple of folks have wondered about an appropriate version of Tim Minchin’s The Pope Song:

Fret not, fellow SJWs and feminists and other people who care more about the safety of their fellows over the protection of the reputations of more famous speakers, I’ve got you covered:

(Note: this is an edited version of what I’ve posted privately)

Continue reading “Because I’m Fresh out of Fucks to Give”

Because I’m Fresh out of Fucks to Give

…You’re not Anti-Heroes

So, while the gamerbros are doing a bang up job of proving just how awful they can get (for serious guys, we have Joss Whedon and Will Wheaton on our side, you have the guy who played the guy more famous for a knitted hat.*), I had a thought.

If the guys who aren’t going along with this, guys who stand up against harassment and abuse of women in gaming, are snidely called “White Knights”, what does that make the gamerBros?

And it came to me…they’re wanna-be anti-heroes.

You know the anti-heros, gritty, tough guys who don’t give a shit about silly things like morals or property damage, but are going to save the day.  The Duke Nukems, the Kratos’, the Renegade Commander Shepards, the Agent 47s, the “I-can-go-on-but-here’s-the-TV-Tropes-link”.  (Hell, if I wanted to take an example from TV, the Jayne Cobbs) You’ll note that some of those heroes I listed are some of the same heroes that are noted in some of the games Anita Sarkessian’s Tropes Vs. Woman series.  They can lie, cheat, steal, kill, treat everyone around them disrespect, and get away with it because they are the heroes. The games are designed with that in mind.  As long as the world gets saved, who gives a shit if you took time out of your mission to kick a puppy or two, sell off some slaves, desecrate a holy site,  unnecessarily kill a dozen NPCs, was a massive tool to even your allies, right?

Now don’t get me wrong, I’ve played the asshole too.  I love RPGs with morality choices.  I’ve played the xenophobic jerkass  Shepard, the ruthless Warden, the complete shitty Hawke.  Hell, I remember have such a low reputation in Baldur’s Gate 2 that after saving the day, the elves were like “Thank you, now leave.” It’s an interesting way to play.

But in this current ‘fight’, video games are in apparent danger. People are talking about them in a critical way! What if designers listen to them and ruin gaming forever! What if evil feminist armies raid houses and put everyone who stared a second too long at Miranda’s ass against the wall for execution?  Time to fight! No holds barred! Everything is permitted! Nothing is true!

The problem, of course, if that this isn’t a video game. The anti-hero exists only in fiction. Most of these boys are either too chickenshit to do anything remotely like their on-screen avatars, or they actually understand that this is reality and taking cues from those guys will get you fucking arrested, so they do what they believe is the next best thing.  Harass, intimidate, abuse.  It doesn’t matter how low they go, as long as Our Games are safe from terrible awful OPINIONS!

Which is both sad and hilarious.  Sorry, boys, you’re not the anti-hero here.  You’re not even the hordes of cannon fodder.

If anything, you’re monkeys, shrieking and throwing poop at anyone who dares look hard at your cage for longer than a few seconds.

This isn’t a fucking war to be fought.  As I said in my previous post, either games are art, and subject to criticism, or they’re toys.  Either way, shrieking and throwing poop isn’t going to phase the rest of us who want our chosen favorite hobby to mature.  Like or hate the criticism, but literally showing your ass isn’t making you the bad ass rebel you think you are.

(here’s a hint, rebels want to CHANGE the status quo)



*And for ruining a certain recruitment mission for Mass Effect 2 for me.  Jerk.

…You’re not Anti-Heroes

Fucking Pick One

Man, for all of the claims that ladyfolks are the emotional and irrational gender, nothing hits the heights of hysteria like a pissed off dudebro.

The sad part is, of course, pissing off a dudebro could end badly for a lady.

I mean, we could get brutally assaulted for breaking up with them (Trigger Warning for the link, it leads to her medical fund and has a photo of the damage)

We could get the Internet Hate Machine to ran down fury because a salty-ass ex was feeling vengeful.

We could even be driven out of our homes for fear of being physically hurt.

And those are just the most RECENT stories of men acting like the house is burning down at the slightest hint of life’s disappointments.  War Machine, I’d say there’s more fish in the sea, but you’re too damned off your nut that I wouldn’t wish my worst enemy on you.  Dude who is not longer dating Zoe Quinn, thanks for making it clear why no one should ever date you again.  And the horde of whiny gamers trying to intimidate Anita Sarkessian into not talking about your precious video games, grow the hell up.  These women have done waaay less harm to you than you have done to them, and for what?  Daring to no longer be your possession?  Breaking your heart?  Pointing out that *gasp* your favorite form of media has a sexism problem (and by the way, guys, you’re doing a more bang up job in proving that than Anita ever could if she was pumping out an episode a week)?

There is absolutely nothing they have done to deserve even a little bit of the abuse they have to put up with.  And it’s sexist. Case in point, where’s the hate conga line for the reviewers Zoe supposedly fucked for positive reviews?  Doesn’t it take two to tango? Aren’t they just as corrupt and awful as you think she is? Shouldn’t they be suffering in the exact same way?

…yeah, I thought so.

Either women are weak little things to be put in our places or our genitals are so powerful that they can stir even the toughest man into a frenzy. Fucking pick one and stick with it.

Either women are breathing sex dolls there solely for your enjoyment on a screen or actual people with actual opinions who just might disagree with you from time to time.  Fucking pick one.

Either video games are a valid form of art and storytelling (which can be critiqued like every other art form), or they’re toys for the immature who want more bloodshed and jiggling titties.  Fucking pick one.

Because you can’t have this shit both ways.

Fucking Pick One

Bad, Bad, Bad, Bad Feminist

Everyone’s got that one or more moment in their past they regret.  Bad haircuts, bad choice of partners, what the hell where we thinking when we wore that, and awful, awful beliefs about race, gender, politics, you name it.

Julia over at Secular Woman gathered a bunch of stories from members of the problematic beliefs we once held before we gather age and more than a few clues.  Here’s mine (typos and all!):

When I was in my late teens to late 20s, I was a triple threat; a Chill Girl, a the Token Non-threatening Black Friend, and a Poor Libertarian.

“Ugh, girls are icky, backstabbing, gossipy little twits who want accept me in their little club anyway.  And if they’re feminists? Please, buncha whiny girls who don’t have anything else to complain about. We got the fucking vote, right? You can own land and not have to get married to get laid.  If they’d just have sex like guys do, they’d be fine, right? Aren’t we supposed to all sex-positive?  That means fucking like the men! Don’t be such a prude!  I once read about some big name feminist named Dwakin, Dwo… whatever, who claimed that call heterosex is rape! Can you believe that shit? I’d never be a feminist.  I’m one of the boys! Bitch! Cocksucker! Cunt! Hah, hah rape jokes are so funny!”

“Man, black people are lazy whiners, I’d never be one of them!  I’m an Oreo, get it?  All of my white friends act blacker than me!  I don’t “do” black––unless it’s for a joke.  If you need someone to turn up the AAVE and act like an Angry Black Girl, I’m your girl!  Mm-hmm, sho’nuf. Slavery was, like, 300 years ago, we got the vote, and they need to get over it.  If I knew I got to college under Affirmative Action, I’d drop out.  I’d be offended; how dare they treat me like some number in a quota?  I got here all on my own, and fuck them other folk.  Oh, oh! I know this really funny joke: Why is aspirin white?”

“Yeah, I could qualify for food stamps, health care, maybe even some section 8 for a place to stay because I make minimum wage and I’ve got a chronic illness, but I’m not going to do that.  Nope.  I’m not some leech sucking the government teat.  I grew up on government cheese and projects and all that, and I’ll never stoop to that level again. I’ve got my pride.  None of my friends are on that mess. That’s just offensive that you would even suggest it! Leeches are the worst. Just you wait until the Libertarians gain more power. Everybody won’t pay a dime in taxes and we’ll shrink the government, and if you can afford to live, too bad!”

Yup, I existed in this world with those thoughts in my mind.  Quick, class, point out one example of nonsense in those words.  Extra points if you can find them all!

I did all of this nonsense, mostly to fit in, mostly due to the need to belong.  I spent most of my childhood being rejected, so when I was a young adult, well, I lashed out.  Fine, if I’m not Black enough, fuck you, I’ll be the biggest bestest Oreo in the whole wide world! I sucked at being a “girl”, fuck you, I’ll hate my own gender and all of the trappings involved! I’ll show you!

What changed?  Well, I grew up, and in growing up, I realized that no matter how ‘white’ I behaved, I was still Black, and society still treated me as such – especially when it was time to ‘perform’ a stereotype.  No matter how much I behaved like “one of the guys”, I was still perceived and treated as a woman (especially when my “friends” were horny). I was assaulted, insulted, offended, and smiled my way through it. Who wants to be the fun-killer in the group, right?

Then, I had enough. I wasn’t having fun anymore. So..I started being the fun-killer.  I lost friends, gained new ones, traveled with other friend who were going through that same changes. And now, I’m more me than I’ve ever been. And it feels great.  And looking back, I can’t help but smile a little through the cringing.

Bad, Bad, Bad, Bad Feminist

Owed Sex? A Meandering Ramble

So I’m sure that everyone has read about the woman on Reddit who posted a spreadsheet from her husband listing the number of times he tried to initiate sex with her and her “excuses” for turning him down. Of course, there has been a ton of hay made of it, from the side of “Wow, this guy’s a total prize” and from the side of “Grrr, why lady deny man pussy?”*

Nevermind that he gave this to her as she was leaving for a business trip.

Nevermind that at the time of the posting, he didn’t return her calls.

Nevermind she posted this on /r/relationships looking for advice.

According to a lot of dudes, the only way to fix this is for wifey to rush home and spread like a buffet.  Because otherwise, why bother getting hitched in the first place, right?  I mean, who needs companionship and love and caring, we’re only here for sex on tap, right.

Raging feminist that I am, just guess which side I’m on? Go on, guess.

No one owes you sex.  Not your spouse. Not your partner. Not even the one-night stand you just picked up. No one!

Cats and kittens, sex isn’t a thing you “give” to someone.  Years of nonsense abstinence training and religious brainwashing has turned what is a fun group activity into some sort of gift you give to another.  So, your first time is supposed to be all magic and wonderful and thus is supposed to be saved for marriage, right?  And of course, once you give up that gift, you can never give it again. These days, a lot of people have said FUCK THAT to those sort of teachings and have the premarital sex and so on, but the lessons stay burned in our social awareness so BS like” sex is something you can deny another” (and it’s usually a woman doing the denying to usually a man) is still common.

One more time for the cheap seats: Sex is not a thing that can be owed to you.  Not for dinner, not for a movie, not for a fucking wedding ring.

When I hear people talk about being denied in that way that screams that they are owed, my first thought always is “Man, sex must suck for your partner.” I mean, dayum, if all you want is something warm and wet, a Fleshlight or a dildo and some warming lube ought to do the trick (and if you do, no shame here.  Sex toys are for everyone here at Seriously!?). Hell, get yourself the prettiest Real Doll and go to town.  S/he’ll be ready willing and able whenever you get the urge and they never say “no”.

But if you want to have sex with another human, you gotta remember this human is a separate entity to themselves, with likes and dislikes and agency. And you aren’t owed sex by any human on this planet.  I mean, back to this guy, what would he actually want?  For his wife to just…let him have it no matter how she feels about things? Who gives a shit if she feels icky or gross or fat or unsexy, if the man wants his dick wet, she better just lay back and think of England?  I mean, women don’t really enjoy sex anyways, it’s just something we do to keep the men in our lives, right?

If that’s your angle, please consider the many sex toy options open to you, because you really shouldn’t be touching another sentient being, because that’s some medieval-style  rape culture encouraging bullshit. Sex is not something you “give” to others, it’s something you “do” together.  Both (or all) parties are active and engaged and giving a fuck about everyone’s pleasure.  If your partner is lacking in interest, it’s past time to USE. YOUR. WORDS.  TO TALK.

I read that spreadsheet and I see a woman who is busy, who maybe is having self-image issues, who doesn’t feel desirable. If she doesn’t feel sexy, pressure to just let his dick in her isn’t going to make that sexy happen. All of the guys clamoring to blame her for ‘denying’ her husband seem to just think once that ring gets slipped on, it’s hot sex on tap from here to death. If she doesn’t provide, you have the all clear to dump her or cheat.  So much for “for better or worse’, right?

And what does this say about other men?  The only thing they get out of marriage is sex?  They don’t require love or companionship or a pair of helping hands around the house.  And here I thought it was icky feminism made men look terrible.

I thought I had a good end to this ramble, but now I’m just too grossed out to even continue.



*I’m not being fair.  On. Purpose.  Because that side is fucking gross.

Owed Sex? A Meandering Ramble

Femi’s Rules for Protesters (based on today’s tweets)

So our merry band of morons have been more pushy considering the property line they are not supposed to cross.  Because Screw the Rules, I have Jesus.

“Good morning.  That is the first and last time you will hear that from me, so savor it.  Here we go:

Rule one: If you are an adult, I don’t like you.  I don’t care if you say that you “love me”; that’s creepy and you don’t know me.  I don’t care if your God loves me.  As a matter of fact, if you feel the need to tell me that, like you have the express line to God, I don’t like you even more.

Rule one point one: If you’re a kid and you’re here, I feel sorry for you.  There are better ways to spend a Saturday morning than being dragged to a clinic to wander with signs near pictures of medical waste.  Like the park near the clinic.

Rule two: Become familiar with the property line.  Tell your newbies.  Ignorance is no longer an excuse.  I WILL call the cops on your ass.

Rule three: We don’t have to talk to you.  For any reason.

Rule four: We can talk to anyone we want.  Deal.

Rule five: Don’t fucking LIE to us.  If you’re a protester, we’ll figure it the fuck out. We talk to each other.  We talk to our security guy.  The fucking ninth commandment?  Your rules. Not mine.

Rule Six: You are creepy, young or old.  If you bothered to think about it for five seconds, you would get that.  Complete strangers don’t owe you information about their bodies or medical condition.  Not that you would care.  I heard a woman was on the floor bawling after you dismissed her telling you her fetus’ lungs weren’t working.  You are shit.  Actually, let me make that a rule:

Rule Seven: You are shit.  The very thing you are doing is shitty and you are shit.  This is why you get the disdain you whine about.  But hey, that’s what gets you people going, I know.  You don’t give a fuck about babies, you just wanna get decent people pissed off so you can go home and wank (figuratively and/or literally) about how persecuted you are. We know your game.

Femi’s Rules for Protesters (based on today’s tweets)

Linky Roundup

(AKA: Femi just finished a first draft! Yay!)

Yeah, we get it movie reviewers, the Black Widow is a sexy lady in sexy outfits. Now what about her character?

Benevolent sexism?  Still sexism!

The ever-awesome Zinnia Jones continues to call out assimilationist transmisogyny with facts, truth, and interesting censor icons.

The Ferret challenges the concept of “Nobody can make you feel bad without your permission” and why it’s complete horseshit.

Since my clinic didn’t have Saturday hours this week, here’s Katie_Speak ‘s Dispatches from the Sidewalk

I couldn’t decide between two links from the newly renamed “We Hunted the Mammoth” (formerly ManBoobz), so here’s both: How not to hit on a girl part 50-11th and how one victim of harassment is being better than her harassers 


Have a great day, you guys.  I might go back to bed!

Linky Roundup