Really? Seriously?

This is the money quote:

When will we start to understand that any movement which asks women to put up with sexism as a sacrifice for the group, as if sexism isn’t part of the problem, is doomed to fail? It’s no accident – or secret – that women make up the majority of the world’s poor and that women are being hardest hit by the financial crisis.

It ain’t radical and new if it’s built on the same old same old, let’s change the world, I’ll give the speeches, and write the theories, and you make the coffee and iron my shirt, honey buns.

Fuck. That. Noise.

We got a giant, I mean the entire side of a cow, london broil for super fucking cheap that was going to go bad if it didn’t get made RIGHT THIS FRICKEN SECOND. And it’s Friday, and I am sofaking tired that I didn’t even know it was Friday till lunch. I thought it was still Thursday. I think I’ve lost and entire days worth of sleep this week and now the days all blerge into one (blerge is a technical term, look it up. Or don’t. Really don’t)

So I convinced Kid to make the London Broil by shouting directions from my prone position on the couch. And Kid did an amazing job. Then I showed him how to slice it on the diagonal .

Kid: I like doing this!

Me: What, slicing meat? Slicing meat is awesome.

Kid: NO! COOKING MEAT!

ME: Yes, cooking meat makes you feel like king/queen of the world. Like “I am the ruler and cooker of the flesh!”

Kid: As long as it’s not human flesh.

Me: OH when the end times come it will be human flesh!!! Muwhahaha

And not exactly off topic, someone needs to print up some bumper stickers that say “Save a cow, eat a banker”

Oh Charles, you bring up the most amazing shit

ETA: MAybe this link will work? Since the one above is not.

When the Kid was too small for grand complicated explanations, I used to ask him “Kiddo, is this gonna help or is this going to hurt?” Does it help if chores go unfinished or hurt? Does it help when you leave a trail of filthy socks all over the living room for me to pick up, or does it hurt? You get the idea.

So since the whole dust up over Hot Chicks of OWS, you gotta ask “Does this guy help or hurt the Occupy movement?” And the straight up truth is that he hurts it. He hurts it my making women feel less safe and therefore less equal. He hurts it by making women leery of throwing their energy into something that is only as radically changed as “nice tits, make me a sammich”. And it hurts OWS because it invites the dudebros in, more of those same shitfaces who will shout you down and mansplain and accidentally* grab your ass.

And while us ladies get it, for the most part, that this is hurtful, we need you guys to get it too. We need you calling this shit out because the hurtful ones are the same fuckers who will get in our face and ask if it’s that time of the them month when we call them out. But they might listen to you. And even if they didn’t listen, we’d hear, finally, that some of you all are on the side of help.

That makes a mountain of difference. So when you’re sitting there, either occupying a park or occupying this grand park of the interwebs, ask yourself if what you’re doing is helping or hurting. Are you helping by being silent in the face of douchebaggery? Are you helping when trying to play Devil’s advocate to explain how the douchetocracy works? Are you helping make the world a better, safer, more equal world for everyone, including us 51% of the population? Or are you doing harm?

As usual, standard disclaimer that silence and or commiseration with people who are racist, ableist, homophobic, transphobic, etc etc etc is also hurtful instead of helpful.

It has been updated. Look to your right!

It’s probably a DOUCHE!

Proving that us panty-wadded ladies weren’t wrong, the shitface behind Hot Chicks of Occupy Wall Street likes to make rape jokes on facebook.

And you know, I am not at all surprised. There was never a brief moment where I thought “maybe the douche-defender who thinks us complaining feminists are just jealous of those beautiful women is right. Maybe I’ve had it wrong this whole time and street/internet harassment is really a compliment.” Because I fucking know better. Because I have lived in this world for 36 damn years as a member of the fuckhole class. Because even with grey hair and a fat ass I still get harassed on a damn nearly daily basis. (That ain’t a humble brag, y’all. That’s the sound of seething fury and barely contained rage.)

And shit, if this is what the revolution looks like- then I don’t want no part in it. Seriously. I walked away from the Democratic party and voting to get away from the liberal dudebros. I sure as hell am not gonna throw my support, my energy, my single remaining ounce of give-a-damn into some new order that looks suspiciously like the old order, at least as far as women, POC, etc are concerned.

Fuck that shit.

and I never will be. I will also never be Troy Davis’ mother. When it comes to the police, I am highly unlikely to be charged with a crime I didn’t commit. But if I was, the chance of getting the death penalty is damn near nothing for me. Same is true of the Kid. Because we are white.

Now before I continue, you absolutely must go read Renee. Go ahead. I’ll wait. *

Now I may be a lot of things that rack up points on the old kyriarchy oppression chart. I’m a woman. I am poor. I am a mother. Etc. Etc. But I am not now, nor will I ever be, the n***** of the world.

Now I meant to write this post when everyone was popping “I am Troy Davis” posts on their facebook. But I was working 11 hour days and there were other things going on. Then I meant to write this post when the Slutwalk shit happened. But I was working and there were other things going on.

But that’s all bullshit. I could put off writing about it because I am white. And racism really doesn’t do me any harm. Actually, I benefit from it. That’s privilege, not needing to give a damn or write a post or call out an injustice because it ain’t my problem. (Except that it is my problem. And your problem. And you over there lurking, it’s your problem too).

I have been I am Hillary Clinton, and I have been I am Spartacus (aka Melissa McEwan) but those are both, wait for it…. white women.

And yes, both the Slutwalk women and the Troy Davis posters were well intentioned. But intention doesn’t matter a damn bit in oppression. I am sure that the white folks who ripped Native children from their parents and sent them to Indian schools thought they were well intentioned too. I am sure that the asshole cop who started the whole Slutwalk thing with his comments on how ladies should dress in order to avoid being raped thought he was doing a community service. I am even pretty sure that John Lennon and Yoko Ono were well intentioned when they wrote that fucking song. They just wanted to point out how shitty the world treats women.**

But that shit ain’t right. Trying to fix an injustice using oppression is like a doctor trying to fix a heart attack with bacon. You just end up compounding the problem at another person’s expense.

*No seriously, go read Renee. Cause if you don’t it’s just one more example of a white feminist taking the credit for the hard work a black woman did before her. She gets to be the expert on race, cause duh. I am just an ally and often a lazy ally at that.

** Also it breaks the cardinal rules of language reclamation. You either have one, or you are one, or you don’t get to use the fucking word.

Haiti doesn’t need your yoga mat.

When in doubt, send cash.

So Friday I am standing outside my office, sucking down the brain-fog clearing nicotine that makes it possible for me to function in my job. I don’t take lunches. I take 2 7 minute breaks* to smoke so that I can finish my work and be home before 7. And Friday was a doozey of a day. Somedays are easy. Some days suck. Friday was a sucker.

So I am huffing and puffing and enjoying the 7 lousy minutes I take of not listening to someone yammer in me ear. When across the park comes DOUCHE!

Douche “Hey Becky, I see you. I’m watching you. Yeah Becky I’ve got my eye on you baby”

Me “What the fuck. You don’t know me. My name isn’t Becky.”

Douche “Yeah but I usually get a name when I call them Becky and they’re all (makes an imitation that one would recognize as a shitty, racist imitation of an angry black woman- so sexist and racist to boot)’I ain’t no Becky, watchoo talking bout calling me Becky”

Me (I cut him off cause..just no) “Yeah well move along, I ain’t interested” (makes the move along hand gesture)

Douche “Bitch if you didn’t want to talk to me you could have just said nothing and I would have been on my way.. blah blah blah”

So that’s what happens when you say no to a street harasser. But what happens when you do just ignore them and try to go on about your day?

Last night, coming home from downtown, a bunch of guys standing outside the drugstore. An Asian girl tries to walk past, and since they are basically taking over the sidewalk she has to dodge and weave through them while one is all “hey baby, hey baby, you look fine, hey baby”. She ignores him and his friends. So the Hey Baby dude is all “Damn did you see that Asian bitch.”

We are bitches when we ignore them, bitches when we say no, and sluts if we say yes. Seems like we can’t win no matter what. Makes a girl want to go all Hothead Paisan sometimes.

*Yes I could take an actual lunch and sometimes do. But I gotta stay until my work is done and I am so over 11 hours days that if it means skipping lunch I will skip lunch.

First a little history.

Seattle has a long standing (heh) community of homeless tent dwellers who have to pick up and move every 90 days (I think it’s 90) to a new spot of private land donated by a church or other organization. The fact that they get the 90 days took a decade of wrangling.

You want to talk about organization, they’ve got it. You want to talk about long term struggle with the city over the basic right to cover your head at night, they’ve done it. Long before the protests that are making waves now, these actual homeless folks got familiar with the police kicking down their tents in the middle of the night. They are organized to provide cooking facilities, bathroom facilities, cleanup facilities, etc in an urban environment.

They fought for years with various mayors over their simple right to exist and find shelter in a city that didn’t offer enough services for the working poor. Because of their epic battles with Seattle’s last mayor, Greg Nickles (douche supreme, btw) they renamed their encampment “Nicklesville” ala the Hoovervilles of the first Great Depression.

So now that we’ve talked history, let’s talk the Occupy Protests.

Last night was supposed to be the night of a 1000 tents at Westlake. There weren’t a thousand. There were quite a few, but not a thousand. And near the podium where the GA is held is a sign “Welcome to Nicklesville”.

Uhm no.

First of all- NO. You all haven’t been sleeping rough though 10 fucking years of homelessness. You all haven’t invited any members of Nicklesville to show you how deal with the sanitation/food storage & prep/ police resistance issues that these people much further down the food chain have mastered in all their experience.

You all didn’t join Share in protesting in front of the Gates foundation a few nights ago (Share is one of the non-profits that helps advocate for Tent City residents). It’s just a little mile march into Queen Anne.

You haven’t dealt with fucking Mayor Nickles. Who was a giant pimple on Satan’s ass. You all have dealt with Mayor McSchwinn, who really isn’t giving you too much grief. A little, yes. But he ain’t Nickles.

You all really want so lateral, non- elitist change, start from the bottom up by including the much more experienced folks in the process instead of just stealing their fucking name.

Feministe reports on some douchebag creating a Hot Chicks of OWS web site. Said douchebag, Steven Greenstreet, describes himself as “documentary filmmaker, video producer, 7D owner, comic book reader, sci fi nerd, atheistic troublemaker, and social media mercenary,” all of which taken together I have long since learned (through decades of exposure to hipsterdom) to read as “self-important socially-maladapted misogynistic ass.”

I swear, Andrea Dworkin is rotating at 7200 rpm in her grave.