Tag Archives: feminism

I am not a feminist.

I am not a feminist because I do not take sides. I am not going to endorse one whole group vs. any other group.
I am not going to pitch myself against any whole.
I believe in equality not special treatment, meaning I do not need to join a movement for the goodness of only one group, as I am not for any one group – I am for all groups.

I come from a culture where women have ALWAYS been strong, and badass, and capable, and equal to all others.
Where you
earn your place and respect. Where if you want something, you dedicate yourself, and you learn, and you struggle, and you WORK to make it happen – not whine and gripe and pitch a hissy-fit behind a picket line. What good does that do? What are you proving to anyone? That you can scream the loudest? That you are more nagging and obnoxious than the next picket line?
Congratulations.
That’s an honour I can suffer without.

I come from a culture where if you act like a piece of shit, you are treated like a piece of shit – if you act like a badass, you are treated like a badass. And that goes for EVERYONE and ANYONE, man, woman, child, olde, new, or prime. ANYONE. Where you are the product of the consequences of your actions, good or bad, where slaves can rise to become kings, and kings can fall to be slaves because EVERYONE has the exact same chance as the next, but once you earn your place – that’s it, you’ve earned it. So if you are disatisfied with it, YOU change it. Not yell at others to change the way the rest of them work for your own lazy betterment – but YOU put up the effort to change YOU to make your own situation better.

I walked into a job and got paid MORE than the MAN I was hired to replace.
Why?
Because I am the shit. That’s why. Because I am dedicated, because I am loyal, because I am too damn stubborn to ever give up, because I know how to take criticism, because I know how to learn from my mistakes, because I have a work ethic that is, frankly, unseen in these days. Becasue I make it to where others can’t do anything but respect me, because my actions command respect.
Command.
NOT demand. There is a gravely significant difference between those two words, that is often confused, or people are just ignorant to these days.

I have a friend who just recently nailed her job offer – making the same amount as a male counterpart who was technically hired before her, at a higher level of education and certification, and should, by all reasonable means, make more than she does because of seniority both in length of time there, and level of education. But she landed an offer making *the exact same amount he does*. There is also much mroe to that offer that I can’t discuss here because it is priviledge information, and SHE got it. Not him.
Why?
Because she is the shit.
Because she took the opportunity seriously, and busted ass, and put in the effort, and showed dedication and loyalty and responsibility. Because she went above and beyond the call of duty and showed that she was an invaluable member of the team, and would only be an asset to the growth of the company and that she was an absolute badass.
Because her actions commanded it to be so.

And guess what? We are LOVED by our colleagues. We are not called bossy, or bitchy, or anything negative that feminist propoganda would have you believed, because, again, we commanded it, not demanded it. Those who have to get “bitchy” to get respect have not earned it – and they don’t have respect, they have intimidation. They have fear. They have control over others. Which is still effective, but very, very different.

And that is only two examples, from just one tiny little anectdote. Think of how many other cases out there are like ours? You simply hear less about us, as women – PEOPLE – in out position don’t generally need to flaunt it, because, generally, people in our position on strong, confident secure individuals who do not need the notoriety to qualify themselves. The ones in offense, the weak, the insecure, the ones without conviction tend to be the ones who scream the loudest, because maybe if they are loud enough, they can convince themselves it is true along with everyone else.

Here’s my problem with ‘strong female leads’…

A phenomona that should be dubbed “the Tauriel Effect”

Even though she wasn’t precisely a lead – I’m still Angry, PJ, dammit.

It’s a forced topic. Everyone now has become so preoccupied with the issue, they forget one of the most important parts of stroy telling: character developement. Or, good character developement, I should say. 

My biggest issue: They are fake. They feel so unnaturally forced and overdone that it makes me instinctively hate them – which is kind of counter-productive to the entire point of the “movement”. And I mean that in the very loaded sense of “trend”. It is now the -thing- to push all types of media/entertainment to be concerned, and include, with diversity, gender rols issues and including the “strong female lead” trope that many authors, I feel, fluffing their work with. Extraneous characters that they don’t truely believe in, that they are building on a basis of necessity to include, rather than organically developing the appropriate characters the story needs.

I am currently reading Mage’s Blood by David Hair, and though I have just started, I am already annoyed. I can’t tell if I like it. I’m not sold, but I also cannot simply abandon it, and it is frustrating because I can’t help but wonder if I would be so torn if it weren’t for this Elena character.

If there is a perfect example of a character being forced into the “strong femal lead” role, this is it … well, I’m sure many others, but this is the one slapping me in the face right now, and I’d love to send it flying across the room – but it is that gnat that nags and hovers in your face, but dodges your hit every time you try to smack it away.

Let me tell you, I am so ticked at this gnat right now, I’m about to whip out the fogger.

From the second we learn about this character, it is forced down your throat how much of a bad-ass she is. Beginning from how Gyle insistantly introduces her to Saint Lucia:

                   “ “Will this woman kill the children, Magister Gyler?”

                   “She’s a heartless bitch, if you will excuse the term, Holiness.” There, Elena, I’ve made your name known to the Empress-Mother, in the best way possible. Fame at last!” “

To how it is pushed, every, other, grueling line, how she struggles to push away her maternal instincts, and thwart-off the interests/praises of the men, to how she pushes herself in training when we, at last, get to actually meet her. It’s redundantly shoved in your face: Look at me, I’m a badass, I am tough, look how tought I am, I don’t need men, look, I am a badass! Am I a badass yet?

What a cunt! I am so thrilled! 

And even though I recognize that those previous quoted lines are written with a hint of cynicism, it is accepted as noteworthy and even impressive!

                   “ Lucia smiled gleefully. “Excellent! I like her alredy -” “

So, apparently, in order to be strong, and a badass, you must be a cunt. Awesome. Can’t imagine why type of shit is so exhausting to read…

But they don’t need to be so forced. Saint Lucia herself is an unbelievable badass, already, in just a few pages – and it happens all so easily and naturally, without thought or question. But, what a shocker, she is also a cunt!

But the evil-strong have always been easy. And yes, we do love them – as is epitomized by Cersei Lannister and how we drool over her, we love to hate her and for some sadistic reason (that says more about us than Martin’s writing talents) we STILL route for her. And the fact that this, already sinister, Saint Lucia is on the team we’re supposed to be routing for. So yes, we do love them…

But is that it? Do we get no sane, not-evil, stron ladies that don’t seem ungodly forced and pre-built awfulness? Because that’s all we’re going to get so long as people feel the need to include such characters for the sake of pop-culture demand and worry of back-lash.

And that shouldn’t be.

Stories and story-tellers should not be dictated what to write and when and about who and how – that isn’t what makes memorable, or meaningful tales or characters. That kills it – that kills all the magic and stifles muses. 

I have no idea if that is how Hair felt as he was writing this book – but that is certaintly of it feels, and is is incredibly off-putting.

I write to tell a story. I don’t take the time to go through the checklist of diversity to make sure I’ve inlcuded the “appropriate” amount of women-to-men ratio, or gays-to-straights, or minorities-to-nonminorities. I just tell the story. That’s it. I put in exactly the amount of WHATEVER characters the story needs. And that’s it. I let the story tell me what it needs and where – Not societal demands and politics. 

I am not a Feminist.

Today’s rant stems from an Article I read about a group trying to push for women’s right to go topless in certain particular situations (IE at the beach, working out, hot summer days etc) just as men have the right to do.

OK. I’m not going to get into exactly why I think this is absolutely retarded, and is nothing more than a bunch of emo dick-haters deciding to get angry about something simply for the fact of having something to be angry about….

Today’s rant is solely on the generalized fact of feminism as a whole.

and how I absolutely, by any means, at all a Feminist.

How could you possibly say that?

Well, because look at them….They’re fighting for “women’s rights”, all the while giving women an absolutely shitty name.

Women are cunts, women are never satisfied, all women are secretly lesbians, women are man-bashers, women are man-haters, the list continues on and on and on……and I have heard every single one of these, and more, in my own personal experience.

Truthfully, most of them – on the regular – by my own husband (certainly not limited to him though) 

How do I never ever get angry ? 

Because He’s kinda got a point. 

Feminists are cunts. Righteous Cunts, and frankly, I care not to be associated with them because I think I’m a pretty damn awesome woman, who is only a cunt when provoked to be one, am very easily satisfied, is not a lesbian at all (even in secret) and am sick and damn tired of being accused of one simply because I have a vagina and have friends who also have vaginas, and also sick and damn tired of lesbians claiming they can “turn me” Naw, bitch, ya can’t because I like dick, and balls, and testosterone, and body hair, and you don’t have all of that ~naturally~ anyhow. Just, no. And, I also to happen to NOT hate men. At all. In the Slightest. I happen to love men, and do not agree with the hateful anti-male propaganda that feminists like to wave around everywhere. You want to bitch about sexism?? Now you’re contributing to it, ya cunt ass hypcrocrites!!

Which bring’s me around to my next point, of which I have covered previously in such rantings :

I don’t like hypocrites. 

I don’t like extremists.

Feminists are *both*.

And that brings me around to my last real point I have to make on this. Feminism is defined as :  "collection of movements and ideologies aimed at defining, establishing, and defending equal political, economic, and social rights for women.“

So, really – I guess, to me, feminism is sheerly irrelevant in my entire life, because I have absolute no use or need to ‘define, stablish or defend” any part of my rights because I have never. -EVER- in my entire exsistence up to this point have EVER been deprived of such rights.

Ever.

I don’t know where all you people live, maybe you just need to move somewhere else. Or maybe you just need to find a job that isn’t run by sexists. Or stop putting yourselves in situations where you have to associate with such people. I don’t know – I really have no understanding of this concept, because I have never lived in a world with this such prejudice.

I have been a victim of a lot in life dealing with religion, culture, class, race. .  . never gender. Ever.

I am also bred from a culture that does not understand such concepts.At all. 

Celts had queens, women warriors, goddesses, chiefs, warlords, messengers, poets, landholders, etc. etc. etc. 

Women ruled and went off to war and were as reckless as men.

Men stayed home and tended to domestic life, and were as homely as women were. 

There were no such things as “gender roles” in their life style. Likewise, there were no set, rigid defined laws of class. Anyone – absolutely ANYONE could rise from any stations. Slaves could be freed of their bonds and become common civilians. Said civilians could rise to become masters as their accomplishments were recognized, masters could rise to become noblemen, and one could rise to become king, even, because to the Celts, they could *elect* their king. Yes, an heir was named – but if someone objected, they could nominate someone else, and then those who opposed could also rise to challenge such nominees and then the people of a tuathe could *choose* their king from such challengers /nominees. Also, they has regular counsels. 

And to be fair, the same rules applied to the upper class. ANYONE could fall from their station, and have to start all over again. But they were not utterly damned for it without any chance of redemption. They simply had to start fresh, again, and *earn* their place. 

And this was all done in an “uncivilized” time by a bunch of “barbarians”….right.

There is an awful lot of honour, valor, dignity, respect – etc etc etc that comes with the making of a true Celt. This is the culture I am sprung from, this is my blood, these are the type of people I have come to know and associate with. This type of culture and environment breeds strength, confidence, respect and wisdom. 

And when you have that combination, it’s undeniable. It commands respect…not *demands* it. So, perhaps that is why I just don’t understand. Because I am a woman who will always have respect. Just because, I am that type of woman.

Maybe you need to look at yourself, honestly and harshly, and figure out what it is about *you* that makes *you* incapable of getting what you want, instead of pointing the finger to others.

So you have fun, little girls, with your picket lines and protest posters and all your incessant bitching and whining and griping….with practically no results. Because perhaps the problem isn’t the world around you, perhaps it is *the world you have created for yourself.*