redheadedfemme: (bite me)
“[I]f you seek in every way to minimise my firm beliefs by your anti-feminist attacks, please recall that a small dagger or knife point can pierce a great, bulging sack and that a small fly can attack a great lion and speedily put him to flight.”  ~Christine de Pizan

This actually happened to me once, several years ago.

Women bloggers call for a stop to 'hateful' trolling

I received the usual threats of rape and such, which I promptly deleted--Blogger (and Livejournal) is good for controlling your comments. I don't remember much about it, so it didn't particularly affect me. If I got it every single frakking day, however, like so many female bloggers do, I imagine I would feel quite differently. 

I don't want to come down on anyone if they decide to stop blogging because of it. Everyone reacts differently, threat levels may escalate, and you may have a husband and children to protect, or just become sick of the abuse. However, I have made a decision that I am not going to shut up, threats or no threats. 

Giving in to a bully only encourages them. 
redheadedfemme: (bite me)
“[I]f you seek in every way to minimise my firm beliefs by your anti-feminist attacks, please recall that a small dagger or knife point can pierce a great, bulging sack and that a small fly can attack a great lion and speedily put him to flight.”  ~Christine de Pizan

This actually happened to me once, several years ago.

Women bloggers call for a stop to 'hateful' trolling

I received the usual threats of rape and such, which I promptly deleted--Blogger (and Livejournal) is good for controlling your comments. I don't remember much about it, so it didn't particularly affect me. If I got it every single frakking day, however, like so many female bloggers do, I imagine I would feel quite differently. 

I don't want to come down on anyone if they decide to stop blogging because of it. Everyone reacts differently, threat levels may escalate, and you may have a husband and children to protect, or just become sick of the abuse. However, I have made a decision that I am not going to shut up, threats or no threats. 

Giving in to a bully only encourages them. 
redheadedfemme: (television)

Today in my dinky little hometown paper, there were--count 'em!--FIVE articles about Tiger Woods.

Talk about overkill.

I'm glad I no longer watch much TV (except for Rachel Maddow). I cannot understand why modern, more-than-half-batshit-crazy America is so obsessed with this sort of thing (along with reality shows). The only reason Tiger held this public humiliation in the first place was to keep from losing any more corporate sponsors. (And one can bet said *white male* corporations were very happy to see him put in his place.) It's no one's business but him and Elin's who he screwed, and it's up to them to work out their problems and save the marriage, if they want to.

The rest of us should neither know nor care.

It's really pathetic to see fellow golfers (and other publicity-hungry hangers-on) raking Tiger over the coals and making comments about a situation that is none of their concern. Of course, there are all kinds of societal and patriarchal undercurrents to this, as others have commented on. Those issues deserve to be written about.

Tiger and the state of his marriage do not.

I'll let William Blake have the final word.

TIGER, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?

Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

 
redheadedfemme: (television)

Today in my dinky little hometown paper, there were--count 'em!--FIVE articles about Tiger Woods.

Talk about overkill.

I'm glad I no longer watch much TV (except for Rachel Maddow). I cannot understand why modern, more-than-half-batshit-crazy America is so obsessed with this sort of thing (along with reality shows). The only reason Tiger held this public humiliation in the first place was to keep from losing any more corporate sponsors. (And one can bet said *white male* corporations were very happy to see him put in his place.) It's no one's business but him and Elin's who he screwed, and it's up to them to work out their problems and save the marriage, if they want to.

The rest of us should neither know nor care.

It's really pathetic to see fellow golfers (and other publicity-hungry hangers-on) raking Tiger over the coals and making comments about a situation that is none of their concern. Of course, there are all kinds of societal and patriarchal undercurrents to this, as others have commented on. Those issues deserve to be written about.

Tiger and the state of his marriage do not.

I'll let William Blake have the final word.

TIGER, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?

Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

 
redheadedfemme: (walking upright)
When I first saw this video, I thought it was funny.



It still is funny, I suppose (and it must be a parody--I can't imagine the stuffed shirts at Mastercard approving such a thing). It's also creepy and revolting--or at least the kid is, and his comeuppance is greatly deserved. However, the father actually didn't need to step in at all; here's how a smart, savvy young woman could have handled it.

BOYFRIEND: How about a blowjob?

GIRLFRIEND: No.

BOYFRIEND: Come on. Who's gonna see us at this hour? I'll return the favor.

GIRLFRIEND: NO.

BOYFRIEND: Please. I love you so much.

GIRLFRIEND: Obviously you don't, or you wouldn't continue to pressure me.

BOYFRIEND (beginning to sound petulant): Please.

GIRLFRIEND: What part of 'no' don't you understand? Get your whiny, entitled ass off my porch.

BOYFRIEND (goes down steps muttering to himself): Bitch. I paid $75.00 for the dinner, too.

GIRLFRIEND: I heard that. Seventy-five dollars doesn't entitle you to jack-shit. If you're that hard up, use your frakking hand. By the way? Your whiny, entitled ass and I are no longer together.

That's one video I'd love to see.
redheadedfemme: (walking upright)
When I first saw this video, I thought it was funny.



It still is funny, I suppose (and it must be a parody--I can't imagine the stuffed shirts at Mastercard approving such a thing). It's also creepy and revolting--or at least the kid is, and his comeuppance is greatly deserved. However, the father actually didn't need to step in at all; here's how a smart, savvy young woman could have handled it.

BOYFRIEND: How about a blowjob?

GIRLFRIEND: No.

BOYFRIEND: Come on. Who's gonna see us at this hour? I'll return the favor.

GIRLFRIEND: NO.

BOYFRIEND: Please. I love you so much.

GIRLFRIEND: Obviously you don't, or you wouldn't continue to pressure me.

BOYFRIEND (beginning to sound petulant): Please.

GIRLFRIEND: What part of 'no' don't you understand? Get your whiny, entitled ass off my porch.

BOYFRIEND (goes down steps muttering to himself): Bitch. I paid $75.00 for the dinner, too.

GIRLFRIEND: I heard that. Seventy-five dollars doesn't entitle you to jack-shit. If you're that hard up, use your frakking hand. By the way? Your whiny, entitled ass and I are no longer together.

That's one video I'd love to see.

June 2017

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Words To Live By

Being a writer is a very peculiar sort of a job: it’s always you versus a blank sheet of paper (or a blank screen) and quite often the blank piece of paper wins. ~Neil Gaiman

Of course I am not worried about intimidating men. The type of man who will be intimidated by me is exactly the type of man I have no interest in. ~Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

The road to hell is paved with adverbs. ~Stephen King

The man who does not read has no advantage over the man who cannot read. ~Mark Twain

I feel free and strong. If I were not a reader of books I could not feel this way. ~Walter Tevis

A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who never reads lives only one. ~George R.R. Martin

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