applemaiden:

breaking news: evil feminist leader Anita Sarkeesian ruins gaming everywhere forever by saying “that’s pretty sexist, how about not doing that.”

nice guys everywhere are suffering. now they cannot beat up a hooker and steal her money without thinking “maybe this is sexist”. the american way has truly collapsed and our nation will never be the same. please take off your fedoras for a moment of silence.

(via teaandfeminism)


(via arcticdub)


roooneymaras:

this show is so fucking real

(Source: sexxistential, via ispeakbecausei)

Julia Serano - Trans Feminism: There’s No Conundrum About It
It’s Monday. I’m going home at 6pm and a middle aged man and a teenage boy are the only people left on the bus with me. I consider the fact that because the driver is also a man I am the only person left on the bus with the correct genetic makeup for boobs. I’m automatically scared, scared because of my own anatomy. I wonder how old I was when I realized that my own body was going to be the cause of the constant anxiety and fear I feel in situations like this. I get off at the last stop and the older man smiles at me while following me up the street. His smile drips, drips, drips and my heart is pounding, pounding, pounding. He turns off down another road, but I run the rest of the way home.

Not all men.

I’m at home on a Tuesday, beginning to plan the travels I want to go on next year. I dream of wandering the streets and meeting strangers. I just can’t wait to escape the city I’ve lived in for 17 long years. But… my mum is hesitant. She’s forever worried about the danger that being a young girl traveling alone can bring. I’ll be alone and she’s scared. Surely I’m invincible. I feel invincible. But I know, I know this danger is real and I can’t help but think to myself, if I feel unsafe in my own city, how am i going to feel in a strange place with strange men who don’t speak the same language as me? If I was my brother planning this, I would probably just be wondering if European girls are going to be hot.

Not all men.

Wednesday is a beautiful sunny day but I’ve always been told that I don’t have a “nice enough body” to wear a bikini on the beach. Ever since I was 6 years old I’ve thought that having tummy fat was ugly. That skin that doesn’t have a perfectly golden glow is undesirable. I amble to a clear patch of sand in my one piece and I can feel pairs of eyes latching onto me. Hairy men in speedos who I don’t look twice at eat into my body with their stares. I’m a piece of meat. I am a piece of meat? I am here for their amusement. Please don’t let me be eaten alive.

Not all men.

Thursday night two friends and I are walking to our god damn school dance when we hear “Jesus look at you! You sluts heading to a pole?” These words snarl out of the mouth of a respectably dressed man and we stop in horror. Shivers roll up my back in fear. It’s dark. We are alone. What. Do. We. Do??? One of us pulls the finger back. I can never be sure how quickly a sexist man can get angry so we walk quickly away. We’re angry, so so angry. But also so… deflated. I wonder if we deserve this shame.

Not all men.

Sitting on the internet, Friday night and scrolling down my Facebook newsfeed:

“Haha, good job at the game today bro. You RAPED them!”
“Damn with tits like that, you’re asking for it :P”

Another sexist comment…
Another sexist comment…
Another sexist comment…

I’m shrinking and shrinking and shrinking and I want to CRY because these boys don’t realize how small they make me feel with just pressing a few keys. I see these boys on the streets, I talk to these boys, I laugh with these boys. Dear GOD, dear GOD i hope these boys don’t think actions speak louder than words…

Not all men.

Three rules that have been drilled into me since I was young run through my mind at 1.30am on a Satur… Sunday Morning:

-Don’t ever talk to strange men
-Don’t ever be alone at night in a strange place
-Don’t ever get into a car with a stranger

I break all 3 of these laws as I pull open the taxi door. Making light conversation with the driver, he doesn’t see my sweaty hand clutching the small pocket knife I keep hidden on me at all times. He doesn’t even realize the fear I feel at his mere presence. He cannot comprehend it, he never will. How easy would this 15 minute car ride be if I was born a boy?

Not all men.

It comes to Sunday, another snoozy, sleepy, Sunday and someone has the AUDACITY to tell me not all men are rapists. I say nothing.

I’m a 17 year old girl.
When I am walking alone and it’s dark, it’s all men.
When I am in a car with a man I don’t know well, it’s all men.
When men drunkenly leer at me on the streets, it’s all men.
When a boy won’t leave me alone at a party, it’s all men.

Not all men are rapists. But for a young girl like me? Every one of them has the potential to be.

Not.
All.
Men.


a piece i wrote for an english assignment about my personal experiences with rape culture, in particular with the saying “not all men” which i know has been makin a lot of controversy on the internet recently! idk just wanted to share (via skeletales)

(Source: trueho, via skeletales)

slimejourney:

that ulay and marina abramovic shit is ridic. who goes to the great wall of china to break up. ya babe lets check out this vast wall that has no sentimental value to either of us, it’s just really big and important. how privileged and pretentious do u have to b to do that. dump ur man at mcdonalds. break up w him as u pass the fkn billy. get real no1 givs a shit

(via wellthisisratherawesome)

Myths galvanize people and direct their form of culture. They are the fullness and depth of the people. They are the projections of their learned fears, anxiety, frustrations, hopes and the deepest unconscious contradictions of a civilization. In them is found not rational, linear thought but the inner contradictory reality of the human being. The American Dream is the end of a long, circuitous route away from the animal-body, the land, woman and black to condensed wealth (money, machines and property), cities, man and white. It is time now to break out of these deathly myths and this culture built on the oppression of women and blacks.

The western world was built on much more than colonialism and imperialism. It was built on the long-standing mythical split of male and female, as well as the split of body and mind. All things having to do with the animal body were repressed unconsciously. The repressed reality of life, like oppressed peoples, never stays repressed. It always threatens to rise and cause trouble to those who need to control others and themselves.


Patricia Murphy Robinson: A Historical and Critical Essay for Black Women of the Cities (via performance-sofa)

(via lovecraftianfeminism)

lafilleblanc:

Alexander Calder
The Forest is the best Place, 1945
(via)

lafilleblanc:

Alexander Calder

The Forest is the best Place, 1945

(via)

(via arcticdub)

Popular performers both reflect and shape social attitudes.

The white rapper Eminem won a Grammy Award while I was writing this book. At the time of his award, one of his newest popular songs was “Kim,” the name of Eminem’s wife. The song begins with the singer putting his baby daughter to bed and then preparing to murder his wife for being with another man. He tells his wife, “If you move I’ll beat the shit out of you,” and informs her that he has already murdered their four-year-old son. He then tells his wife he is going to drive away with her in the car, leaving the baby at home alone, and then will bring her home dead in the trunk. Kim’s voice (as performed by Eminem) is audible off and on throughout the song, screaming with terror. At times she pleads with him not to hurt her. He describes to her how he is going to make it look as if she is the one who killed their son and that he killed her in self-defense, so that he’ll get away with it. Kim screams for help, then is audibly choked to death, as Eminem screams, “Bleed, bitch, bleed! Bleed!” The murder is followed by the sound of a body being dragged across dry leaves, thrown into the trunk of a car, and closed in.

Even more horrible than Eminem’s decision to record this song glorifying the murder of a woman and child is the fact that it did not stop him from receiving a Grammy. What is a teen boy or a young man to conclude about our culture from this award? I believe I can safely say that a singer who openly promoted the killing of Jews, or blacks, or people in wheelchairs would be considered ineligible for a Grammy. But not so, unfortunately, for encouraging the brutal and premeditated murder of one’s wife and child, complete with a plan for how to escape consequences for it.

And, unfortunately, Eminem has plenty of company. The extremely popular Guns ’n’ Roses recorded a song that goes: “I used to love her / But I had to kill her / I had to put her six feet under / And I can still hear her complain.” The singer (Axl Rose) goes on to sing that he knew he would miss her so he buried her in the backyard. This song supports a common attitude among physical abusers that women’s complaints are what provoke men to violence. Another outstanding example is the comedian Andrew Dice Clay, whose repertoire of “jokes” about the beating and sexual assault of females has filled performance halls across the country. Fans of these kinds of performers have been known to state defensively, “Come on, it’s just humor.” But humor is actually one of the powerful ways a culture passes on its values. If a man is already inclined toward abuse because of his earlier training or experience, he can find validation in such erformances and distance himself even further from empathy for his partners. In one abuse case that I was involved in, the man used to play the above Guns ’n’ Roses song on the stereo repeatedly and tell his wife that this was what was going to happen to her, laughing about it. But in the context of verbal assault and physical fear that he created, what was a joke to him was a blood-curdling threat to his partner.


Why does he do that - Lundy Bancroft (via scherbensalat)

(via fuckyeahsexeducation)

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