Spinster aunt reads generic feminism article, complains

Why is being told by a woman about feminism or anything else is a problem while being told by a man is no big deal?
Woman tells woman about feminism=”Who does she think she is?”
Man tells woman about feminism=”A guy who is a feminist? I am in love!”

By the way, Twisty, in Facebook we are rejoicing that you wrote again in the blog. It’s great.

Oh, how I’ve missed the Twisty outlook.

It’s depressing to realize that heterosexual women’s sexuality from the very beginning is shaped and honed to cater to men. No escape.

There isn’t a choice, not even for Beyonce. Even if we’d like to believe her money and power exempt her., it doesn’t. Beyonce just capitalized on female objectification and then packaged it as empowerment. Though, she isn’t the first to do this and she won’t be the last.

Thank you, thank you, thank you for posting, Twist. Happy you’re back, even if for only one post!

It is as the kids say, “It’s the Patriarchy, stupid”. Words about which I must remind myself before next year’s holiday gatherings. Especially when I am just about to try and explain to even the very best of my male relatives, why there can be no choosiest choices for ladies. Like say to my brother, for example. Better to just go for a hike with the dog or something.

Spot on and so refreshing to read.

“Scratch a “new” feminist, and you’ll find an empowerful girl whose lipstickin’, shoe-buyin’ ideology springs fully-formed from her immaculate, politically-neutral, sexyfun, patriarchy-free choice-lobes.”

So glad you’re Back! You’ve been greatly missed.

The allowable choices are always Knobjectivism. Geddy Lee could even sing about it!

It’s protestant feminism. You just have to accept feminism into your heart and be saved.

(Dances bee-like welcome to Aunt Twisty on her return to the blogspace)

(and, Buttercup, you can also find CPP’s charming phraseology at his blog – all the sous vide fuckery you could possibly want, plus artisanal cheeses: http://freethoughtblogs.com/physioprof/)

Welcome back!!! The level of denial amazes me, considering that there are constant reminders of how we women need to be perceived everywhere. I just read about the Australian neurophysiologist and writer Colleen McCullough who died recently and her obituary in The Australian claims that she wasn’t fuckable (but still likeable)!! In case we forget, even for a moment, leave it to the P to put us in our place.

Hurray! Glad to see you Twisty!

Huzzah! You’re back!

I’ve missed you’re refreshing, crystalisation of the issues so much! I routinely scour your posts to extract pithy quotes (with link) to post to my often clueless pals on other forums.

Please write a book, in between sous vide-ing, vine trimming and chasing cows. The world really needs it.

/*No words for how tickled I am to find a Twisty post! Wheeeeeeeeee!*/

This” “is it really a choice if it precisely aligns with male interests at your own expense?” is exactly what I’ve been trying to articulate since choicey choiceness first burst upon the scene.

That’s what shows it up for the lie it is.

Word! The practice of traditional feminity is not a stop on the freedom train. It is a survival tactic. I will never shame a woman for doing what she thinks she has to do to survive. But it’s crap. You can’t spit on a cupcake and call it frosting.

My new mantra for 2015 (just drove it out of the shop):

Compliance is not the same thing as consent.

This grumbling about millennials stinks of strawfeminism. Plenty of us think critically.

I too am very glad to hear from you, Aunty T. How are the horses?

A couple of weeks ago I had a student tell me she considers herself a feminist “but only in terms of having a strong personality and strong opinions” whatever that means. I pointed out that you can be as demur as you want and still be feminist and that having a strong personality does not mean you understand feminist ideology. Blank look. Neoliberalism and individualism that goes along with it is part of it. My colleague claims not to live in a patriarchy; her little world is just fine for her so what is there to worry about? Occasionally I challenge this view with a comeback about the global brutality of patriarchy for almost all of the world’s women, but apparently this is not our concern and there is no moral imperative to do anything other than consciously ignore it so long as we scrape some sort of tolerable existence up for me, myself and I. Which is of course the central theme of patriarchal hegemony; it’s how the baboons in governments justify letting millions live in dire poverty.

I am glad the Colleen McCullough obit was noticed outside of Oz; it included the phrase “and she was certainly overweight” from memory. It was almost as though the author was offering a disclaimer when faced with the dilemma of acknowledging a woman’s accomplishments when they do not include being a bit of hot stuff.

My first comment on this post is in mod because I accidentally used my work email.

I too am very glad to hear from you, Aunty T. I hope the horses are well?

Values of individualism, the basis of the dominant patriarchal ideology of Liberalism is to blame, I believe. My colleague claims not to live in a patriarchy. She just ignores all that nasty stuff and looks at her own little world as a haven where she is doing just fine, or well enough. You create your own context she says. The vile society that I refer to, where women experience patriarchy as a violent and brutal occupying force, is not her society. There is no moral imperative for us to address the collective, global misery of women everywhere, so long as me, myself and I are doing well enough pretending patriarchy does not exist. Think beautiful, spiritual thoughts and delude yourself that it makes the world a beautiful and spiritual place. I know ignorance is bliss, but some long term analysis and planning, based on reality, is in order if women are to survive.

God, I love the commenters here.

Ron Sullivan: “all this pinkified merchandise-and-simpering big pile o’ crap is supposed to be about sex. It gives sex a bad name.” Exactly. Exactly, exactly, exactly. Another thing I’ve been trying to articulate since forever.

And Val, Mme. Foucauld felt boxed in? Isn’t that the same as saying she had no counterarguments? I.e. she knew she was wrong, but she was damned if she was going to admit it. Because then, like Linda’s colleague, she’d have to take a good square look at where she lives. Barbiturate-addled housewives watching daytime soaps were nowhere near as pathetic as our postmodern academics suffering from deconstructed logic pretzels.

Yeah Quixote that could be right. I don’t mind a bit of Pomo etc, but it can be used in that way – I don’t have to think about anything unpleasant because there is no “reality” – and anyone who tries to make me do so must be a bad person! But it hurts that stuff about ‘ooh why are you so aggressive?’ I know it’s to do with the performance of femininity, and women are supposed to be “nice” and all that, but still it works as a put down, at least on me! Tough.

Ain’t no fun feminism like new age fun feminism! Over at Mind Body Green, the choosiest choice is traveling the globe and lifting stuff freakishly with your vagina. I’m not kidding.

http://www.mindbodygreen.com/0-17392/10-benefits-of-vaginal-weightlifting.html

My lobe, it hurts today.

Multiple choice:

Why do so many women define feminism as the “belief in gender equality” and deny the relationship between patriarchal oppression and the performance of femininity?

A. “What’s patriarchy?”
B. “I *choose* to pull out some of my eyebrow hairs every morning.”
C. “If I say nobody is oppressing me, then nobody is oppressing me!”
D. “When I tell the ugly truth about the P, I lose friends, respect, sex appeal, etc.”
E. “These shoes don’t hurt at all.”
F. “I can’t see clearly because there’s a penis in my eye.”

Hi, Twisty and everyone else! How I’ve missed everyone. Thanks for posting, Twisty. I have been thinking you are probably hip-deep in farm chores.

“I know that I, as a young woman, had no idea that man-pleasing didn’t have to be a part of my sexual experiences. Makes me rather sad, actually.”

ew_nc, as usual, you articulate my experience perfectly. At 54 I have no idea what “my” sexuality ever was, because it was based on moaning and groaning while being thrust upon. And sometimes getting a bonus orgasm myself if the moon was full and the angle of the peen was exactly right. Post-menopause, I have little to no sexual desire, so I feel like I’ve missed out on sexuality altogether.

quixote, I think the barbiturate-addled housewives of yore were taking the only sane option out of their miserable reality. Of course it’s presented as “ALL THOSE WOMEN WERE COINCIDENTALLY CRAZY AND ABUSING DRUGS AT THE SAME TIME! WHADDAYA KNOW.”

Side splitting,too true, and take spit funny. Enjoy (being in the “present.”)

http://www.eugeneweekly.com/blog/angry-yoga-just-bang-your-head-little-bit

What a breath of fresh air to read you again, twisty. I can’t have these virtual conversations with anyone else. It is frustrating trying to explain why one can’t represent feminism while strutting across the stage wearing a thong, fishnets, and 5 inch heals because the words get caught in my throat. Explaining the obvious can be difficult for those of us who don’t possess your artistry with language. Nice to see you again.

A lot of people seem unable to grasp that feminism means something and isn’t just a fun new word for women, like ‘sassy’.

If I’m chowing down on a beef burger I can say ‘I’m a vegan,’ till the cows come home but I’m not actually a vegan because being one means eschewing the pleasure of a quarter pounder.

And Twisty, from the bottom of my ragged little heart, welcome back to us.

“Women who acquiesce, who embrace the strictures imposed by femininity, are rewarded. Those who decline to or cannot comply are punished.”

Depends on how we’re defining ‘femininity’? If we’re defining it as the practicing of femininity, as in: dressing the part, applying makeup properly, watching your weight, engaging in various behaviors/speech styles/sexual practices/whatever that the culture deems ‘feminine’ — at best it seems to me like you get a mixed bag. That’s because the practice of femininity as a competition is a sham anyway, since even playing really hard won’t actually get you a whole lot.

On the other hand, if we’re defining femininity as a state of being — that is, white/straight/cis/able-bodied/rich/young — then, well, yeah. But the extent to which you get to move yourself on that scale is pretty limited. If you’re a black trans sex worker it doesn’t matter how much time you spend on your makeup or how great you are at it, the world is still going to try to rape and murder you. On the other hand, if you’re a rich white chick, the police will probably not shoot you in the head for no discernable reason even if you are the hairiest of vegans. The difference between ‘practicing’ and ‘not practicing’ is infinitesimally small compared to the difference between rich and poor or white and non-white.

Sort of like the joke from that teen movie back in the 90s. There’s this girl who is white, straight, thin, literally played by a Hollywood actress with a pair of thick glasses and her hair in a ponytail. Everyone hates her and treats her like garbage because of how unspeakably hideous she is. She takes off the glasses and lets her hair down, and suddenly everyone is floored by her astounding beauty. But in real life, while switching to contacts may help you win prettiness contests, it doesn’t make much of a dent in how much money you make, how likely you are to get arrested, how likely you are to be the victim of a violent crime, your legal rights, your lifespan, your mental health, et cetera. Things which have material value, in other words, as opposed to things which are only valuable within the context of the fakeass game.

Yay Twisty’s back! I missed you so much! I can re-harden my rad-fem-ness that’s gone all mushy during your absence!

THANK YOU!! As always, you perfectly articulate what a lot of us feel but can’t quite put into words lest we die of a brain aneurysm first. (Seriously, I could only get to the first item on George’s list and had to stop there. It was physically painful.)

Welcome back, Twisty. We missed you!

Glad to see you’re still ranting, Twisty.

Went on a little trip to ye olde home improvement store today. Whilst happily entertaining myself looking at all the crap for sale, a dudely associate asked if I needed help finding anything, sir?

I still am not sure how I feel about that, at a personal level. I wasn’t angry; it was too surreal. (Related: Every stinkin’ time I have to go there, it flat out amazes me how many dolled up women I see. But I don’t get out often, so maybe that’s my fault.) It’s horrifying that because I wore clothing that actually protects the body from the elements, and shoes in which I can traverse nearly any landscape with relative ease and comfort, I was presumed to have certain anatomy.

Oh, I could go on, but I’m very foggy with a sinus infection and accompanying meds, so instead I’ll end it here. Thank you for this space. And thank you all for sharing and listening.

Linda, I’m sorry that you’ve experienced that.

“Funny how life turns out.” Yes, indeed.

It di’n’t cite like it wuz supposed to. Sorry. I’ll try once more and then slink away.

Rather than a lifestyle accessory in the shape of some passive, nebulous, and capriciously applied “belief in gender equality,” feminism is in fact a political movement the goal of which is the liberation of women from patriarchal oppression.

Thank cats and various dogs that twisty is back. For me, I encountered enraging woman as icky discourse (no matter what) and men are gods however held up to a lower standard wherever I go. Take Norah vincents’book about infiltrating very manly spaces while in disguised as a cis man. At my local bookstore, there was a poster of Norah as a butch dyke (her identity) and as a straight man. I saw countless college women say Norah was “cute as a guy, but I still wouldn’t date him” to “ew gross, what an ugly woman” therefore contributing to how low the bar is set for “cute men” and has high expectations for pretty women who’ve spent their lives trying to be a good force in gym gender ouch.