17-year-old Jordan Davis died of racism.

Michael David Dunn, a middle-aged white man, made a comment to a group of four black teenagers that their music was too loud. They began to argue and Dunn fired at the black teenagers’ SUV between eight and nine times. Two shots hit and killed Jordan Davis. Afterwards, Dunn fled; he was arrested and has plead not guilty.

Although Dunn will be making a Stand Your Ground defense, it’s likely to be difficult for him to prove, because even our racist-ass justice system is (one hopes) fairly clear on unarmed teenagers playing their music very loudly not being a form of attack. Nevertheless, that this murder happened at all is pretty freaking racist, ageist, and sexist. Groups of black teenagers listening to music loudly? Well, they’re a gang, they’re thugs, they’re a threat, they’re something any right-thinking middle-aged white person ought to be afraid of. For far too many people, it’s reasonable to believe that a group of black teenagers is liable to attack you– never mind that teenage black guys hang out listening to loud music in thousands of neighborhoods across the country every night, and the vast majority of them never do anything worse than irritate the neighbors’ eardrums.

And sometimes stereotypes like that lead to death.

I do believe that Dunn legitimately felt threatened by black teenage guys arguing with him. Nevertheless, the fact that this is threatening is something that white people need to question. Why do we assume that black men are violent beasts ready to attack at any moment? Why is the same behavior normal on the part of white adults and an act of aggression on the part of black teenagers? Why is the default assumption that a young black man is going to attack or even murder us? Why are we so afraid?

Until we can answer these questions, more boys like Davis will die. And that is not something I want on my conscience.

Photo credit– armin_vogel/Flickr. A single candle of mourning. 

DID YOU KNOW that guys do not like crafts, baking, romances, celebrities, or adorable pictures of animals (this last must be a surprise to literally the entire Internet)? DID YOU KNOW that all guys love sports, science fiction, business books, and comics? I feel like they’re confused here about whether we’re shopping for Generic Geek Archetype (who is, of course, always male, all the girls are fake geek girls who hate comics and dress up as superheroines for no reason) or Generic Guy Archetype.

A lovely bit of retro-sexism found on Tumblr somewhere… sew lace on your boy’s shirt and then he’ll tuck it in! Because lacy shirts on guys are literally the most embarrassing thing EVER. (Also, is it just me, or is it really fucked to not allow kids to pick out their own outfits within reason? If dude doesn’t want lace on his shirt don’t put lace on his shirt, jeez.)

This is from Queer Secrets, a blog I highly recommend reading if you happen to be possessed of the mistaken opinion that queer people are any more sensible than straight people. (We’re not. We’re really, really not.) I would just like to point out that this is a classic example of the Nice Girl ™ in the wild and supports my contention that Nice Person ™ ing is not a behavior limited to any one gender. “I’m nice, and yet straight women refuse to date me! Clearly the fact that I am also a girl has nothing to do with this! It must be because all women like jerks! I am positively seething with resentment and entitlement.”

And a moment of awesome: a Swedish toy catalogue has gone gender-neutral! Fuck yeah, boys with dolls and dollhouses!

This could also happen in the US: a New Jersey teen is petitioning the CEO of Hasbro to feature boys in advertising of Easy-Bake Ovens. Over thirty thousand people have already signed. This is fucking awesome.

In Manchester, England, a four-week-old boy bled to death after a circumcision performed without anesthetic, in which the nurse used only scissors, forceps, and olive oil and did not perform appropriate postoperative care.

This is obviously an extreme case. Most circumcisions are performed in hospitals with postoperative care and modern surgical techniques. Nevertheless, circumcisions can be dangerous. Children can face infections, bleeding, and removal of an insufficient amount of tissue. In rare cases, the child’s penis can be lost or, as in this tragic case, the child can die.

Circumcisions don’t really do anything.  They have some mild health benefits (but the science is mixed and most of the health benefits can be gotten by washing regularly and using condoms anyway) and they may reduce sexual pleasure (but again the science is mixed). Their primary benefit is aesthetic– which is fucked itself. Why shouldn’t people with penises be allowed to decide for themselves, when they’re adults, whether or not they would prefer for their penis to be circumcised? Why on earth would we risk complications ranging from infections to death for absolutely no reason at all?

Oh, right, I forgot, it’s tradition. They just won’t feel right if they don’t look like their daddy. And children’s bodily autonomy doesn’t matter anyway, it’s not like they’re people.

Photo credit– miss pupik/Flickr. A newborn baby tearing up. 

TW for rape and physical abuse. 

You know what I love more than anything in the world? REDEMPTION. I wake up in the morning and say to myself, “Self, it is about time that we go see some people get redeemed! They have suffered long enough for this silly ‘covering up the rape of children’ and ‘perpetrating a culture in which football is more important than making sure that rapists get prosecuted’ thing. Why should we worry about deconstructing the sports culture of violence, toxic masculinity, and rape culture that leads to these acts? No, they’ve been punished already and it’s been practically months. It’s about time we pay attention to the real victims of the Penn State scandals: the football team and fans of Penn State!”

Which is why, of course, I was overjoyed to discover that Penn State’s Bill O’Brien is up for Coach of the Year.

Now, I’m not saying that Penn State delenda est and we must salt the football field to make sure that nothing ever grows there again. (Although… can we?) I would just like to point out that despite all the people getting extremely upset, sometimes in this very comment section, about what it would mean for the TEAMS and the FANS of Penn State and how could we PUNISH these INNOCENTS with our CRUEL INSISTENCE that if your football team is more important than fucking preventing child rape that you should probably stop this whole ‘football’ thing until you figure out why you think that… despite all those people, the Penn State football team as a whole seems to be experiencing very few negative consequences. We seem to have collectively decided it was the fault of a few bad apples a whole fucking barrel of bad apples.

To quote the piece I linked, “This need to move on so quickly, to already be celebrating PSU football again is a symptom of that damaging obsessive, hero-making football culture.”

And dear God I’m familiar with damaging, obsessive, hero-making cultures. I’m a fan, okay? I am a fan of X-Men First Class, the star of which broke his girlfriend’s nose, ankle, kneecap, and fucking ovarian cyst. I am familiar with the impulse to stop fucking talking about abuse and to just be allowed to love the thing you love again. But the thing is that that impulse to stop talking about abuse is exactly what gives powerful people the permission to abuse. You can beat up your girlfriend and, unless you’re black, your career won’t take a hit. You can cover up rape and within a season they’ll be talking about atonement and about giving the football team a break. Or, in a microcosm (because this doesn’t just apply to famous people, it would be bad enough if it did but it doesn’t), you can abuse your partner and your friends will say to your victim, “don’t you think you should forgive her? Are you sure it wasn’t just a bad day? She’s cool, it was probably just a fluke. God, why can’t you just go to the party, don’t ruin everyone else’s fun because of your bad breakup. She’s willing to forgive you, why aren’t you willing to forgive her?”

Again and again and again we grant abusers permission because abuse and rape are depressing and horrible to talk about, abuse and rape on the part of people we like and who make us happy are even more depressing and horrible to talk about, and we just want to shut up about it and watch the football game already. Isn’t it time they redeemed themselves?

And as long as we keep granting that permission there will be more than enough abusers and rapists and supporters of abusers and rapists to take advantage of it.

Photo credit– juliejordanscott/Flickr. A protest of violence and rape culture. 

Everyone and their mother has decided to make fun of Suzanne Venker, so there is no reason that I shouldn’t jump on the overflowing bandwagon.

According to Pew Research Center, the share of women ages eighteen to thirty-four that say having a successful marriage is one of the most important things in their lives rose nine percentage points since 1997 – from 28 percent to 37 percent. For men… the share voicing this opinion dropped, from 35 percent to 29 percent.

Believe it or not, modern women want to get married. Trouble is, men don’t.

Ms. Venker gets off to a roaring start by not seeming to know how statistics work. As it happens, “is having a successful marriage one of the most important things in your life?” and “do you want to get married?” are two different questions, and you cannot answer the first question by answering the second. Similarly, “is having a delicious pizza one of the most important things in your life?” and “do you want a pizza?” are two different questions. Unfortunately, since the Pew Research Study doesn’t have the percentage of Millennials who want to get married broken down by gender (possibly because it’s roughly the same and thus doesn’t say anything interesting), I cannot answer that question. I can, however, point you to her source and point out that the girls seem more enthusiastic about everything than the guys. They’re also more likely to think their career is important. Maybe young women are overachievers in everything?

Of course not! That would be silly.

Much of the coverage has been in response to the fact that for the first time in history, women have become the majority of the U.S. workforce.

Okay, the first one was during the recession. Men are more likely to have jobs that follow the boom-and-bust cycle, like construction (which was particularly affected by the construction industry falling apart). Women are more likely to have jobs like childcare where the demand is stable. That is not a big social change Proving That Men Are Failing Forever, okay.

I’ve accidentally stumbled upon a subculture of men who’ve told me, in no uncertain terms, that they’re never getting married. When I ask them why, the answer is always the same.

Women aren’t women anymore.

Things I have learned: masculine women who work careers aren’t women anymore. Man, gender transition is way easier than I thought. You don’t have to take hormones or anything.

You know, I really find myself having a hard time getting upset about this. Men are certainly free to marry whomever they want, and if some men haven’t found a woman feminine enough for them they are perfectly free to not get married. I mean, I don’t want them to force themselves to get married to a woman they don’t want to be married to, since that seems like it would end poorly for themselves and the woman in question. And I really don’t think it’s wise to pretend to be someone you’re not so you can marry someone who doesn’t want to get married to you. Everything is, in fact, functioning exactly as it should

Men haven’t changed much – they had no revolution that demanded it – but women have changed dramatically.

Is the solution going to be “so let’s give men a revolution so they don’t have to adhere to outdated gender norms either”? No? …Hope springs eternal.

(women had their own pedestal, but feminists convinced them otherwise)

But I’m pretty sure most women don’t want to be on a pedestal actually. The problem with a Pretty Princess Pedestal is that people get really upset when you start wanting to do things that aren’t pretty and princessy. What happens if you want to fix a car or fight in the army or get muddy and ruin your flouncy pink princess dress? No one will ever let you tell fart jokes! Won’t someone think of the fart jokes! (Also, go tell poor, queer, and nonwhite women that they got to be on a pedestal, they need a good laugh.)

feminists like Hanna Rosin, author of The End of Men

Feminists like… feminists like… like Hanna… Hanna Rosin…

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

The so-called rise of women has not threatened men. It has pissed them off. It has also undermined their ability to become self-sufficient in the hopes of someday supporting a family. Men want to love women, not compete with them. They want to provide for and protect their families – it’s in their DNA.

Success Myth!

Okay, see, the whole point is that you don’t have to be self-sufficient in order to support a family. The career ladies can help! You remember the career ladies, a couple of paragraphs ago you were fulminating about how they were taking all the men’s jobs? See, when you have two people working, one person doesn’t have to provide and protect for their families.

You know, I don’t doubt that the desire to provide for and protect one’s family is in the DNA. There’s some obvious selection pressure for it and a special connection to family is a cultural universal or pretty damn close. What I want to know is why that desire is apparently only in men. If there’s only selection pressure on one sex to develop something, the other sex tends to develop it too: that’s why people with XY chromosomes have nipples. You can’t just explain why evolution would men want to protect and provide for their families, you also have to explain why it wouldn’t make women want to protect and provide for their families. And if basically everyone wants to protect and provide for their families, then men who make less than their wives can do the exact same thing that women who make less than their husbands do: channel the urge to protect and provide into something else.

 Feminism serves men very well: they can have sex at hello and even live with their girlfriends with no responsibilities whatsoever.

Weren’t all the guys getting pissed off at feminism literally last paragraph? Do you even have an editor?

No, really, all men can’t have sex at hello. If you want proof, mention the phrase “n*ce g*ys” literally anywhere on the Internet. Feminism isn’t pro-casual-sex, at least not my kind of feminism; it’s pro-people-having-the-kind-of-sex-that-makes-them-happy. No sex? Cool! Wait till marriage to have sex? Awesome! Serial monogamy! Fabulous! One night stand with a dude whose name you don’t know? Great, make sure to stay safe! Adorable poly triad with no sex and lots of love, spiced up with occasional flirtations with hot blog groupies? Wonderful! No sex at all and you’re really fucking horny? Dude, that sucks, but at least we have lots of sex toy sites and ethically produced feminist porn?

I’d say that feminism is actually in favor of guys having responsibilities when they live with their girlfriends, but I feel like by ‘responsibilities’ she doesn’t mean “household chores,” she means “if you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it.”

The fact is, women need men’s linear career goals – they need men to pick up the slack at the office – in order to live the balanced life they seek.

Or we could give everyone balanced lives because, despite what the Protestant Work Ethic says, most people have better things to do than spend sixty hours a week at a job they don’t love like burning… but, no, that’s crazy talk. This is capitalism! We can’t be having human fulfillment in capitalism! Next thing people will be finding something to enjoy about life other than accumulating cash and then what will happen?

All they have to do is surrender to their nature – their femininity – and let men surrender to theirs.

If they do, marriageable men will come out of the woodwork.

I have literally no idea what this conclusio means. Does ‘their femininity’ mean not working a job? Wearing lots of lipstick? Cooking dinner? Not having sex on the first date? Will a marriageable man literally show up in one’s living room if one puts on a skirt? What if a woman’s true nature is scratching her armpits and watching lots of football? What does ‘marriageable’ mean anyway? What’s men’s true nature? Is it being marriageable? Providing and protecting? Using Axe deodorant? What if he wants to wear lipstick and cook dinner? I’M SO CONFUSED.

All of this is basically Messages From Bizarro Land to me. Because seriously, right now, I know two engaged couples and an engaged-to-be-engaged couple and absolutely zero people who have had sex at ‘hello.’ Is this a poly thing? Are poly people riding in to save marriage from the poor monogamuggles? Please tell me that’s true, the look on Venker’s face…

Photo credit– sustainable sanitation/Flickr. A dude cleaning a toilet. 

I appreciate the hell out of Yoko Ono. If you disagree with me that Ms. Ono is awesome, go read this series about how fucking awesome she is and how a lot of the hate for her is rooted in racialized misogyny. She was one of the first women to be accepted in Gakushin University’s prestigious philosophy program. Also, she kicked John Lennon out of the house for cheating on her, even though all the other Beatle wives had just accepted infidelity, because fuck you, Yoko Ono demands respect, she doesn’t care if you are one of the greatest musical geniuses alive, you will treat her right or you’re out the door. I admire that.

Yoko’s new menswear collection is just as fucking fabulous as she is.

Okay, let’s ignore the bits where she’s clearly trolling. (Oh, Yoko, why are there hands groping all of these men’s crotches? What are you up to?) These menswear fashions are really fucking interesting.

For a long time, men’s fashion has basically had two models:

• Suit
• Jeans and T-shirt

Yoko Ono played with exposed skin, with transparent fabrics, with baring shoulders and backs, with accentuating erogenous zones, with all the techniques fashion designers subtly (or not-so-subtly– Yoko, darling, honey, sweetheart, what is with those hands) use to play up female sexuality in a classy (or not-so-classy– Yoko, hands) way. They read as feminine, in a way, because transparent fabrics and exposed skin and erogenous zones read as female. But the designs are basic menswear at heart: suits, trousers, shirts. They just have sexuality played up the same way that women’s clothes always have their sexuality played up.

Of course, this is exactly what Ono wants. She says in an interview, “Men were always wanting us to look good and take off everything, and we were never able to enjoy men’s sexuality in that way.” Sexualize men’s clothes the same way that women’s clothes are sexualized, treat men’s bodies as art the same way that the female body (whether nude or clothed) has been treated as art for thousands of years. It’s really interesting work, I think.

High fashion clothes are rarely intended to be wearable by ordinary people. They’re art displayed on human bodies. Still, sometimes the ideas from high fashion filter down into the mainstream, and I’d be really happy if this one did. Why shouldn’t men get clothes as sexy, as seductive, as body-bearing, as women’s clothing? Why shouldn’t men have clothing that’s fun and flirty and a little bit risque? A suit that covers one’s entire body is fine– is wonderful, in fact, if that is something that makes the person wearing it feel powerful and comfortable and hot– but there should be more options than just a suit.

Also, dear God, the hands.

Photo credit– MindyTaylor/ Flickr. A line of suits.

Offer a message of comfort to prison rape survivors this holiday season.

Trigger warning for rape. 

Just Detention International is one of my favorite charities. They work to end prison rape in the United States and around the globe through education, political lobbying, and working with survivors. This holiday season, they have a very special initiative: Words of Hope, where you can send a personal message to a survivor of sexual abuse in prison.

Prison rape is far from rare. In the United States, more than 200,000 people are sexually abused in prison every year, many of them multiple times. The prisoners who are sexually abused are likely to be the weakest, most marginalized, and most vulnerable: the queer, young, not physically strong, feminine, and perpetrators of minor crimes. Sexual assault in prison can lead to HIV and other sexually transmitted infections, physical injuries, and PTSD and other mental conditions. All too often, prison officials ignore rape by prisoners and guards in their prisons; all too often, society outside considers prison rape a joke or just part of the punishment.

But we have the ability to not turn our eyes away, to offer a hand of comfort to survivors over the holiday season. Most people may ignore the survivors of sexual abuse in prison; let us not join their number.

Just Detention International’s goal is 10,000 messages. 10,000, for the more than 200,000 people raped in American prisons every year? I say we can fucking beat that.

The message must be less than 140 characters, less than a Tweet. It will only take a few seconds of your time. Please write a message of holiday hope to a survivor here.

Photo credit– katerha/Flickr. A barbed-wire fence. 

I am, Feminist Jesus help me, going to commit an analogy that compares dating to economics here. I’m so sorry. I’ll say an Our bell hooks and three Hail Audre Lordes in repentance.

Imagine that you are a sentient curtain at Sears. (This metaphor may have been born of me spending way too much time restocking curtains at my new job at Sears.) All the people that might date you are potential buyers.

If a person wants to buy a purple throw rug, and doesn’t want to buy a curtain, they are not going to buy you. Even if you are a very nice shade of purple. They may agree that you are a lovely shade of purple! They just want other qualities in their throw rug, such as not scrunching up when you step on it. It doesn’t mean that they’re lying about liking purple. (This holds true even if they end up buying a blue throw rug instead. Maybe other traits of the throw rug were more important to them than the color. Or maybe they made a mistake and would actually prefer curtains to the throw rug. Or maybe they are lying and actually hate purple, which brings up the question of why you want to be their curtain then.)

People not wanting to buy you is not a judgment on your excellence as a curtain. It may be you have flaws that keep you from being purchased, such as being full of holes. But there might be other traits of yours that are unpopular but not wrong– maybe your pattern doesn’t match anyone’s color scheme. Your pattern is perfectly beautiful, it’s just that the people shopping for curtains don’t want it. Or maybe you’re hiding in the back of the shelf and people who would really like to buy you don’t know you exist. Or maybe your right buyer is stuck in traffic and hasn’t come along yet. (Of course, none of this means you have to keep searching for a buyer if you don’t want to. It’s perfectly okay to give up if the buyer-search is taking more out of you than you’re getting back, and to be sad that no one wants to buy you despite giving up.)

And the nice thing about buyers is that you really only need one. (Maybe more, if you want to be shared between a couple people or borrowed occasionally, but even then the number of people who can use the same curtain is somewhat limited.) It doesn’t matter if your pattern doesn’t match anyone’s color scheme: if you find the one person who happens to have a room that you’d be perfect for, they can buy you.

Photo credit– je@n/Flickr. A sign that says “SEX in progress.”

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving (Observed) for Ozy and zir chosen family, because none of us could get it together enough to buy food. Nevertheless, I thought it’d be nice to wish everyone a happy Thanksgiving and to ask for what you’re thankful for.

Me, I’m thankful for everyone who reads this blog. I’m thankful for the people who message me on Twitter or Tumblr or email me to tell me that I changed their lives, that they thought they were alone, that they make sure to read my blog every morning. I’m very, very thankful to the people who donated money, and for the many people in California who have offered me delicious-sounding food. Someday I will have enough money to fly there and take all you guys up on your offers. I’m thankful to everyone who leaves a comment, even comments I delete, or sends me a story they think I’d be interested in, and also for the silent readers who never interact with me at all. I’m thankful for the people who have been reading me since the days of my much-lamented sex blog, and for the people who read one post and never come back. (Even if they get here by searching “pictur of real peenis.” Guys, I have something to break to you…) I’m thankful for everyone who started out as fans and ended up as friends. I have the best readers in the world.

What are you thankful for?

Let’s just imagine for a moment if Justine Bieber, an eighteen-year-old pop star, had her neck grabbed by Jeffrey McCarthy, a forty-year-old man, who proceeded to forcibly kiss her along her neck and face and then grab her ass? And then it turned out that not only did Justine not consent to being molested on national television, but that Jeffrey described the act as “kind of molesting her” and “I couldn’t help it, she was so little.”

Is the answer “absolutely nothing”? Probably not! Jeffrey McCarthy is one hella creepy fucker. And guess what? So is Jenny McCarthy!

[Video description: Jenny McCarthy grabs Justin Bieber's neck, kisses him along his neck and face, and then grabs his ass. Justin Bieber says jokingly when he gets up at the mike "wow. I feel violated right now. Wow" and chuckles. And then some stuff happens with Bieber winning an award or something? I dunno, I try not to pay attention to his career.]

Dot. Dot. Dot.

We find out from interviews afterwards the following fascinating facts:

• The kiss was completely spontaneous, which meant that she fucking grabbed someone on national television without getting their consent ahead of time and without any way for them to revoke consent in the moment, in WHAT UNIVERSE is that okay?
• McCarthy explains the rationale behind her actions as “couldn’t help it, he was just so delicious, so little, and just, ahhhk, I wanted to tear his head off and eat it.”
• McCarthy describes her actions as “cougar rape.”
• McCarthy sees nothing wrong or creepy with any of this.

Dot. Dot. Dot.

Boys have a right to bodily autonomy! You do not get to touch people without their consent, no matter how cute they are! Boys do not just sit in a state of forever-readiness for sex because lol if you don’t want to have  your ass grabbed by someone more than twice your age without the ability to say “no, stop”, you’re probably a fag or something.

Photo–juliejordonscott/Flickr. Anti-rape and anti-violence signs at a protest. 

Today is the Transgender Day of Remembrance, in which trans people remember our dead. Commenters please note that there is a massive trigger warning on this post, as it includes the names and causes of death for every trans person known to be murdered this year. In addition, please remember that TDOR is a day of mourning. If you would not say it at a funeral, do not say it on this thread. These are my siblings who are dead, be respectful.

This year, as every year, nearly all of the people mourned are poor trans women of color, among the most marginalized people in our current society.

Sonia Masi, shot, India.
Gardenia, stoned to death, Brazil.
Brenting Dolliole, severe head trauma, USA.
Suely Scala, beaten to death, Brazil.
Pascual Ake Beh, gunshot to the head, Mexico.
Erica Hernandez, stabbed to death, USA.
Bruninha, multiple machete blows to the head and neck, Brazil.
Mona, gunshots to the foot and back, Brazil.
Githe Goines, strangulation, USA.
Popinha, two gunshots to the back, Brazil.
Unidentified person, strangulation, Brazil.
Crain Conaway, trauma to body, USA.
Guilherme Augusto de Souza, 13 gunshots, Brazil.
Paola Cristiano, 7 gunshots to the head, neck, and back, Brazil.
Deoni Jones, gunshot, USA.
Carla, gunshot, Brazil.
Junior Ricardo de Jesus, skeleton found with bullet fragments near body, Brazil.
Chiquinha, stoned and beaten to death, Brazil.
Soraya, gagged, had pieced of wood inserted into her anus and had her penis burned with alcohol, Brazil.
Rene “Rosita” Hidalgo, gagged, multiple stab wounds, neck slit, USA.
David William de Oliveira Candido, severe head and neck trauma, Brazil.
Coko Williams, shot, USA.
Tyrell Jackson, shot, USA.
Menakshiammal, burned and throat slit, India.
Paige Clay, gunshot to the face, USA.
Rebekah, gunshot to the back and head, Brazil.
Leandro Eduardo Campos Ferreira, 11 gunshot wounds, Brazil.
Brandy Martell, gunshot, USA.
Unidentified person, gunshot, Brazil.
Anil Aayiramthengum, throat slit and abdominal injuries, India.
Lorena Escalera, fire, USA.
Chrissie Azzopardi, unknown, UK.
Thalepo Makutle, throat cut, partial decapitation, genitals stuffed in mouth, South Africa.
William Geovanni Aguilar Perez, gunshot, Guatemala.
Alison, gunshot, Guatemala.
Unidentified person, burned to death, Brazil.
Jeimy Tamara Perez, gunshot, Guatemala.
Unidentified person, burned to death, Brazil.
Camila de Mink, stabbing, Brazil.
Tracey Johnson, multiple gunshot wounds, USA.
Secil Anne, throat cut and face slashed, Turkey.
Barbarita, gunshots to the face and head, Honduras.
Tania, gunshot to the head, Columbia.
Vanderson Viegas Silva, dragged for two blocks by car, Brazil.
Tiffany Gooden, multiple stab wounds, USA.
Sirena Paola, head trauma, Colombia.
Unidentified person, shot, Brazil.
Unidentified person, shot, Brazil.
Laryssa Silveira, multiple gunshot wounds to the chest and face and dumped by the side of the road, Brazil.
Tiago de Silva Oliveira, gunshot, Brazil.
Robson Franco Pereira, gunshots to the arm and face, Brazil.
Dewayne “Deja” Jones, gunshot, USA.
Unidentified person, repeated blows to the head with a spade, Brazil.
Kendall Hampton, shot, USA.
Kyra Cordova, gunshot wound to the head, USA.
Victoria, murdered and mutilated, genitals and ear removed, thrown into a dumpster, Brazil.
Unidentified person, neck injury, hands and feet tied, wrapped in a sheet, and burned, Brazil.
January Marie Lapuz, stabbed, Canada.
Madonna, stoned to death, Brazil.
Cassandra, asphyxiation, body partially burned after death, France.
The trans people whose names are not known.

May your loved ones find peace and your murderers find justice.

In addition, we remember CeCe McDonald, who is in prison for killing a Neo-Nazi in self-defense, and Breanna Manning, who leaked hundreds of thousands of documents to Wikileaks. May they also find justice.

There have been many critiques of the Transgender Day of Remembrance by trans feminists, particularly trans feminists of color. I particularly recommend nihil de nobis, sine nobis by Erica Inchaoterica and Trans Day of Remembrance by Monica Maldonado and encourage you to read them.

Photo– armin_vogel/Flickr. A single candle in the darkness. 

Every six months or so, the chattering classes will discover that men’s fashion exists and start excitedly shouting about how the new generation of men cares about their appearances and METROSEXUALITY and CHANGING DEFINITIONS OF MASCULINITY and MEN ARE GETTING PLASTIC SURGERY NOW. Usually this includes some truly awful bromanteaus. (My current favorite is mantyhose, which is responsible for a whole three percent of all the tights sold annually. Be still my beating heart.) Of course, the chattering classes’ drive to talk about it has almost no relation to the actual clothing-wearing habits of actual men, and quite a lot of relation to the fact that “ohmigod those men are wearing tights! What will happen to masculinity? Our nation is falling apart! CATS AND DOGS LIVING TOGETHER!” drives a lot of clicks.

Which is, in fact, evidence against their point.

However, the thing I find most interesting about this belief that men are suddenly starting to care about fashion is that it assumes that men didn’t before.

One of the assumptions of femmephobia is that masculinity is natural and normal and femininity is artificial, fake, a put-on. A feminine gender presentation is something you have to work towards, while a masculine gender presentation is something men just naturally have. Consider how “if you would just put some time into it, you would look really good” is advice for women, while “man, that guy probably spends six hours in front of the mirror” is an insult for men. No one ever says “throw on a skirt” the way you’d say “throw on a pair of jeans.” When women want to dress casually, like they don’t even care, they wear men’s clothes.

Of course, some of this is that femininity is legitimately more work than masculinity. A masculine man who puts care into his appearance, but not excessively, probably shaves every day, buys clothes that flatter him and match his self-image, exercises regularly, eats right, and gets a haircut on a regular basis. A feminine woman who puts care into her appearance,  but not excessively, does all that, plus putting on her five-minute face every morning, getting manicures and pedicures, getting her eyebrows waxed, and fucking learning to walk in high heels aaaaarrrgh. In general, you get a feminine appearance by doing things and a masculine appearance by not doing things; you become feminine by putting on nail polish, masculine by leaving it off.

But the thing is that avoiding nail polish because it would make you girly isn’t caring about your appearance less than putting on nail polish because it will. Not caring about your appearance would be “bleh, putting on nail polish sounds like work, how about we watch Wreck-It Ralph instead?” Avoiding nail polish because it’ll make you girly is just caring about your appearance differently.

What we need is a more natural femininity and a more artificial masculinity.

Fun fact: while femininity in general is more work than masculinity, not all feminine things are more work than masculine things. For instance, sundresses are often cheaper than blue jeans, just as comfortable (or even more comfortable when it’s hot out) and even less work (you don’t even have to bother with a top!). I suggest that chill girls who are one of the guys and don’t give a crap about their appearances consider working some sundresses into their wardrobe. (Of course, if you have considered it and your answer is ‘I don’t want to,’ no worries. Wear the things you like. All I’m asking is that you consider whether you’d like more things than you currently know you like.) Unfortunately, for the time being, dudes wearing a sundress will be taken as making some kind of Grand Statement about Gender Roles or what-the-fuck-ever. But if you’re in a social situation that means you won’t be criticized for it, try it! The goal here is that feminine things will have an equal place in the I Don’t Give A Fuck About What I Look Like place.

Also, fashion designers: there is a huge market for Lazy Feminine People. Get on that, will you?

Another fact: you can be masculine and put a lot of work into your appearance. Hats, anyone? Shiny shoes? Facial hair? Tailored suits? Vests? Cufflinks? Collar stays? Noah wrote a whole post about the suit as a costume. There is a lot of fun you can have with masculine stuff! The sense of power and joy many feminine people feel when they put a lot of effort into their appearance and now they look exactly the way they want to is also available to you more masculine sorts. I mean, unfortunately, so far there’s not a lot of “I’m masculine and also I really care about my appearance” stuff that isn’t decidedly retro, possibly because Western culture forgot that male fashion could be about doing things and not just not doing them sometime around 1965. However! The more people there are playing with the old signifiers of masculinity, the more they’ll evolve into new signifiers of masculinity.

Basically my point here is that the Art of Manliness, bronies in fedoras, and overdesigned hipster mustaches are the new face of feminism? I think that’s my point. I’m so sorry.

See Also: Natalie Reed’s The Artifice of Femininity, from which I stole the gender theory in this post.

Photo– MindyTaylor/Flickr. A rack of men’s clothing. 

Lord McAlpine did not rape Steven Messham. However, Messham believed that McAlpine was his rapist because the police had showed him a picture of his actual rapist and misidentified him as Lord McAlpine.

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

Am I the only person who cares more about what the fuck is up with the police than about the shit going down at the BBC? I mean, yes, generally you should show people pictures of the person they’re alleging abused them before you say that that person abused them (even in as vague terms as the BBC did). But it’s an understandable oversight, particularly when Messham appears certain.

But to fucking misidentify someone in a picture? That is a failure of basic policing right there.

Who knows how many people were misidentified by the police and weren’t wealthy and politically powerful enough to be able to correct the record? This issue will disproportionately affect poor people, people of color, and the mentally ill, who are disproportionately likely to end up in prison and less able to clear their records when they are– and men, who are much more likely to be accused of crimes than women. In addition to being an incredible miscarriage of justice, unfairly punishing the innocent, and allowing the guilty to go free, poor policing further marginalizes the already marginalized.

The police should be fully investigated, the reasons for the mistake discovered, possible other cases of the same mistake found and investigated, and procedures put in place to make sure it never happens again. While it was twenty years ago and therefore perhaps the people responsible are not still employed the police, the fact that it happened once is truly horrifying.

Or is it just less popular to criticize police than the BBC?

Photo– juliejordanscott/Flickr. Signs at an anti-rape and anti-violence protest. 

TW for rape and rape apologism. 

Steven Messham was seriously and sexually abused as a child while under the care of the government. Police showed him a picture of his abuser and mistakenly identified his abuser as Lord McAlpine, the former Conservative Party treasurer. On Newsnight, Messham said a conservative politician from the Thatcher era had abused him multiple times; after speculation online that this was Lord McAlpine, McAlpine issued a denial that he had done anything of the sort, and when Messham saw a picture he retracted his statements immediately, apologized, and said that McAlpine had never abused him. It seems as though everyone has behaved uprightly in this scandal, with the exception of the police and possibly the factchecker at Newsnight.

And then the Faily Heil showed up and decided to tell us all about the “astonishing story BBC DIDN’T tell about its troubled star witness.”

[Rachel Maddow, blinking.]

I have read this entire story, so I can tell you what happens in it in case you do not have enough spare faith in humanity to read it:

• Messham said he was abused by a police officer and a police investigation said this wasn’t true, which led to a libel payout. Because it has never, ever, ever happened that police officers have covered up one of their own committing abuse. (Note that according to British law libelous statements are assumed to be false unless proven true, so the fact that there was a successful libel suit doesn’t mean that he wasn’t abused, just that he couldn’t prove that he was abused.)
• At a public inquiry Messham once shouted obscenities at and attempted to punch a barrister. Because it never happens that survivors are triggered and end up responding in irrational and sometimes violent ways, particularly when they are being questioned by someone about their abuse. I mean, violence is bad! I don’t support punching people and yelling obscenities at them. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t a rape survivor.
• Messham’s lawyer has said, when talking about Messham, that “people who are vulnerable . . .  a good part of them is so disturbed that they’re not going to be wholly consistent and reliable.” Yes? You’ll notice the key part of this quote is that he’s vulnerable and something happened to disturb him.
• Messham is not 100% consistent about the details of his abuse. Because no one ever misremembers things, particularly things that happened in their childhood, and abuse survivors never dissociate from their memories. Besides, if the police were lying to him about who Lord McAlpine is, who knows what else they were lying to him about?
• Messham was, at various points, on trial for benefits fraud and defrauding a charity that he ran, but was cleared or acquitted in both cases. Because… crimes he didn’t commit matter? Because rape survivors never commit fraud? What?
• Some people think that Messham is an unreliable witness. Because as we all know everyone takes rape survivors 100% seriously, particularly when they’re broken and vulnerable as many rape survivors actually are.

In related “people are douchebags” news, this nice David Mellor person decided to call Steven Messham a weirdo. Because being a rape survivor never fucks you up to the extent that you’re kind of weird! All rape survivors are totally normal people who have no emotional problems whatsoever! Also, apparently it’s “ludicrous” that Lord McAlpine could be a rapist. Mr. Mellor should patent his Rapist-O-Vision Goggles, I bet they’d be super-useful in all kinds of circumstances. Want to know if that nice person you’re considering is a rapist? Mellor’s Patented Rapist-O-Vision Goggles will tell you whether it’s ludicrous to say that! (Hint: it’s always ludicrous, until they rape you, at which point you should have known all along and why were you spending time with them?)

Look. There’s a lot of pressure on survivors to be the Perfect Survivor, to stand strong and stalwart and to break down into perfect crystalline tears at the most photogenic of times. Not to have anything in their background that could be criticized– not sex work, or crime, or previous accusations, or anything that could be interpreted as ‘asking for it.’ If you perform Perfect Survivor well enough for us, like a dog on our fucked-up agility show, then we will extend our conditional belief… but only as long as we don’t find out anything that makes us doubt you.

Listen to me closely: FUCK. THAT. SHIT.

I believe that Messham has emotional problems, and that he was raped. I believe that Messham’s testimony may not be 100% accurate, and that he was raped. I believe that Messham tried to punch a barrister, and that he was raped. I believe that Messham may have committed fraud, and that he was raped. I’ll even agree with Mr. Mellor that Messham is a weirdo… and that he was raped.

I believe survivors. I will believe them, and provide them support, because there are too few people in this fucked-up world who will. I believe him because I have emotional problems, and I don’t want that to be a way of discrediting my rape, if I am ever raped. I believe him because I have known too many damn survivors who were not believed and not supported and god fucking dammit I will not add to their fucking number. I believe Steven Messham.

Photo–juliejordonscott/Flickr. Signs at a protest that say “End Violence Now” and “Honk if you Hate Rape.”

Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor is on Sesame Street, thus combining my two favorite things in the entire world: politics and TV shows I am a decade and a half too old for. Thus, despite it having very little relation to the stated topic of my blog, I decided to post about it anyway. Besides, I am pretty sure if you don’t dawwww at this then you are no longer human.

I really think that Sotomayor’s visit to Sesame Street is a great step for young girls, particularly girls of color. The wage gap between women of color and white men is huge: on average, Latina women make 60% of what white men earn. Having a Latina role model for girls of color matters, particularly one like Sotomayor, the first Hispanic and third female justice on the Supreme Court. Equally important, I think, is the way they presented it. A lot of people, when encouraging girls to dream high, tend to adopt this “girl power! Rah-rah! Women can do anything men can do!” perspective. Don’t get me wrong, that’s important, especially in the early days when “women can do anything men can do” was a radical concept. However, what I think is even more important is that Sotomayor normalized it. Of course girls have careers. Why wouldn’t they?

I semi-appreciate the dig at princess culture, as well. I contend that there is a very logical reason girls like Disney Princesses: Disney Princess stories are one of the few pieces of kid’s media really good female protagonists. Hard-working Tiana, curious Ariel, bookish Belle, kickass Mulan, Jasmine yearning to escape her parents, Rapunzel the fucking emotional abuse survivor… I mean, the early princesses didn’t  have much personality, but neither did the princes, so that’s a wash. Nevertheless, a lot of the princess culture surrounding the movies is truly terrible and centered around the idea that being a girl means looking pretty and finding a man. Fucking Mulan makeup dolls.  What is this shit? So it’s really nice that there’s a moment of “you don’t just have to be pretty and look for boys” there.

One of the things I find interesting is trying to imagine the comparable sketch for boys. It’s perhaps a sign of how little our culture values traditionally feminine jobs that I can’t think of a time a nurse, teacher, or stay-at-home dad has showed up to tell boys that they can be anything they want to be too.

Transcript

Sonia Sotomayor: Hi, I’m Sonia Sotomayor.
Abbey Cadabbey: And I’m Abbey Cadabbey.
Sonia Sotomayor: And we’re here to tell you all about the word career.
Abbey Cadabbey: Yeah! Career!
Sonia Sotomayor: A career is a job that you train for and prepare for and plan on doing for a long time.
Abbey Cadabbey: Oh, I know what career I want to have.
Sonia Sotomayor: What’s that, Abbey?
Abbey Cadabbey: I want a career as a princess – career!

(Abbey transforms into a princess)

Sonia Sotomayor: Abbey, pretending to be a princess is fun, but it is definitely not a career.
Abbey Cadabbey: It’s not?
Sonia Sotomayor: No. Remember, a career is a job that you train and prepare for and that you plan to do for a long time.
Abbey Cadabbey: Well, gee, you’re right. I guess a princess really isn’t a job.
Sonia Sotomayor: No, it’s not.
Abbey Cadabbey: Well, then, what kind of career can a girl like me have?
Sonia Sotomayor: Well, you can go to school and train to be a teacher, a lawyer, a doctor, an engineer, and even a scientist.
Abbey Cadabbey: Wow. Do you have a career?
Sonia Sotomayor: Yes I do. I am a United States Supreme Court Justice. I went to school and studied law and then became a judge.
Abbey Cadabbey: Wow. Well, that sounds important.
Sonia Sotomayor: It is.
Abbey Cadabbey: Okay then I know what career that I want to have.
Sonia Sotomayor: What’s that?
Abbey Cadabbey: Career!

(Abbey changes to a judicial robe that matches Sonia Sotomayor)

Abbey Cadabbey: Order in the court!
Sonia Sotomayor: Oh Abbey, I think you’ll make a great, great judge.
Abbey Cadabbey: Oh, thank you.
Together: Career

Today is Veteran’s Day in the United States and Armistice Day and Remembrance Day in many other countries. NSWATM has a habit of honoring these days with poetry.

Dulce et Decorum Est, Wilfred Owen:

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.
Gas! Gas! Quick, boys! – An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling,
And flound’ring like a man in fire or lime . . .
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud(
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est
Pro patria mori.

Tommy, Rudyard Kipling:

I went into a public-’ouse to get a pint o’ beer,
The publican ‘e up an’ sez, “We serve no red-coats here.”
The girls be’ind the bar they laughed an’ giggled fit to die,
I outs into the street again an’ to myself sez I:
O it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Tommy, go away”;
But it’s “Thank you, Mister Atkins”, when the band begins to play,
The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
O it’s “Thank you, Mister Atkins”, when the band begins to play.

I went into a theatre as sober as could be,
They gave a drunk civilian room, but ‘adn’t none for me;
They sent me to the gallery or round the music-’alls,
But when it comes to fightin’, Lord! they’ll shove me in the stalls!
For it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Tommy, wait outside”;
But it’s “Special train for Atkins” when the trooper’s on the tide,
The troopship’s on the tide, my boys, the troopship’s on the tide,
O it’s “Special train for Atkins” when the trooper’s on the tide.

Yes, makin’ mock o’ uniforms that guard you while you sleep
Is cheaper than them uniforms, an’ they’re starvation cheap;
An’ hustlin’ drunken soldiers when they’re goin’ large a bit
Is five times better business than paradin’ in full kit.
Then it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Tommy, ‘ow’s yer soul?”
But it’s “Thin red line of ‘eroes” when the drums begin to roll,
The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,
O it’s “Thin red line of ‘eroes” when the drums begin to roll.

We aren’t no thin red ‘eroes, nor we aren’t no blackguards too,
But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you;
An’ if sometimes our conduck isn’t all your fancy paints,
Why, single men in barricks don’t grow into plaster saints;
While it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Tommy, fall be’ind”,
But it’s “Please to walk in front, sir”, when there’s trouble in the wind,
There’s trouble in the wind, my boys, there’s trouble in the wind,
O it’s “Please to walk in front, sir”, when there’s trouble in the wind.

You talk o’ better food for us, an’ schools, an’ fires, an’ all:
We’ll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational.
Don’t mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face
The Widow’s Uniform is not the soldier-man’s disgrace.
For it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Chuck him out, the brute!”
But it’s “Saviour of ‘is country” when the guns begin to shoot;
An’ it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ anything you please;
An’ Tommy ain’t a bloomin’ fool — you bet that Tommy sees!

Let us honor our veterans by providing them with excellent medical care and a way to integrate back into society, and by not making any more of them.

Photo– ~Ealasaid~/Flickr. The graves at Arlington National Cemetary. 

The Man Groomer! Because men can’t use a hairdryer unless they’ve been carefully assured it doesn’t make them gay or a woman (same thing amirite?).

Medium and large facemasks from Taiwan which are inexplicably called the “male” and “female” facemasks. (The female is, of course, female and has a heart on it.) Because all men have bigger heads than all women! Obviously! There is no overlap here at all!

Identical anal lubricant! It’s Tush Eze if it’s for women and Anal Eze if it’s for men. I have no idea why. Do women find the word “anal” too risque? Is a man’s ass too manly to ever be referred to as a “tush”? Like every sex product ever, it indicates “heterosexual” by having a woman stare sexily at you and “homosexual” by having a man stare sexily at you. Because straight women never buy sex products and if they do they have no problem with women staring flirtily at them, straight men would never want to put something up their asses, and queer women don’t exist. (NOTE: To the three people who are currently rushing down to the comments to tell me I’m oversensitive… seriously, go to a non-feminist sex shop some time. The “heterosexual = sexy woman making sexeyes at you” thing is blatant.)

…Heh. Tush Eze/Tushies. That’s actually clever.

And changing the subject rapidly, Love Joy Feminism has a few articles about the Vision Forum, which is an evangelical Christian organization that advocates for Biblical patriarchy. Some of their stuff is… well, it’s not subtle.

Revolutionary War person screaming, because men are violent! Men of Grit, because grit is the most important trait a boy could have, much more important than the other silly girly virtues!

“All American Boys” dress like a marketer’s idea of what Huck Finn dressed like. They also go on adventures with dogs (dogs are masculine, cats are feminine) and have bows and arrows. Not a boy in the world has ever preferred to play with an Easy Bake Oven.

Father-son event! Which is hazardous because MEN LOVE DANGER! And in the mountains because if there’s one thing men love more than danger it’s dangerous nature! No, not that silly frou-frou girly nature, but really hardcore stuff! Exploring! Zeppelins!

For comparison, all the girl’s stuff looks like this:

I am deaaaaaaad of sepia tone.

I love the Vision Forum’s emphasis on patriarchy in all things. It’s not enough that God has commanded men to be leaders, he has also apparently commanded them to like dogs and grit and screaming while throwing your arm out wildly. God clearly hates sissy long-haired men who like children and preach about peace and compassion and… errr… um…

I have to say that President Obama’s speech to his campaign staff made me tear up a bit. I am not the only one, because in fact President Obama’s speech to his campaign staff made him tear up a bit too. (Note: transcript available here.)

There were a lot of inspiring things in the American presidential campaign: the people who stood for hours to be able to vote; the small girl in a Captain America uniform at a polling place; and, of course, the tremendous work of campaign volunteers and interns and staffers. I am in awe; I’m glad my president is too.  And can I just say how pleased I am by his implicit frame of “becoming a man” as the opposite of “being a boy”, rather than the opposite of “being a woman”?

I think it is important to have men on both sides of the aisle (John Boehner, the House Speaker, cries too, and every liberal or progressive who criticizes him for it will get slapped in the face with a wet herring) who are willing to express the full range of their emotions. The patriarchy robs men of the ability to express a full range of emotions: it leaves them with nothing but anger and smug smirking self-satisfaction. Emotions are feminine, are weak, are a sign that you aren’t a real man. But emotions are part of being a person. It’s a devil’s bargain to make to give up some of your humanity for power.

There are a few moments for acceptable manly tears. Grief, mostly. But it’s quite another thing to cry out of a sense of hope. Out of gratitude and pride and the knowledge that there are people who will carry on your fight long after you’re gone.

Barack Obama is far from a perfect person, of course. (Two words: drone strikes.) But nevertheless this moment touched me and I think it says good things about our culture. It’s a sign that we’re approaching the time that anyone can cry or not cry as they see fit and no one will say shit about it. And that is a victory.

Photo: DonkeyHotey/Flickr. The US Republican and Democratic Party symbols, an elephant and a donkey. 

What is the work­ing title of your next book?

What About The Men: Why Feminism Needs Men and Why Men Need Feminism.

Where did the idea come from for the book?

Don’t look at me, I wanted to sell T-shirts to earn money. Freaking Noah Brand decided we ought to write a book. I dunno. Blame him.

What genre does your book fall under?

As far as I can tell they’ll probably classify it in “women’s issues,” which amuses me to no end.

Which actors would you choose to play your char­ac­ters in a movie ren­di­tion?

It’d probably be a documentary so I’d be playing myself! And then we could interview people! Julia Serano, Byron Hurt, Michael Kimmel, Raewyn Connell, Shira Tarrant… there are a lot of smart people doing work in masculinity studies, is my point. I would kill people to be allowed to interview Julia Serano, you don’t even know.

It has been agreed upon, however, that in the movie versions of our lives Noah Brand will be played by Tom Hardy and I will be played by Evanna Lynch.

What is the one-sentence syn­op­sis of your book?

Patriarchy hurts men too.

Will your book be self-published or rep­re­sented by an agency?

It’s currently trapped in the marginally successful blogger version of Development Hell, i.e., Trying To Find An Agent Hell. If we don’t find an agent we’ll probably end up putting it out as an ebook.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your man­u­script?

Uh… don’t ask that question.

What other books would you com­pare this to within your genre?

Oh, man, I actually wrote up a thing about this for the proposal, let me see…

The Guy’s Guide To Feminism, except not whorephobic and more about men than women! The Second Sexism, except it doesn’t suck antifeminist balls! The Will To Change: Men, Masculinity and Love and We Real Cool: Black Men and Masculinity, except not by bell hooks, and you should really just buy the bell hooks book instead! The Myth of Male Power, except it still doesn’t suck antifeminist balls! Men Speak Out: Views on Gender, Sex, and Power, except with 100% less attempted murderers involved in the writing! The War Against Boys: How Misguided Feminism Is Harming Our Young Men except for the antifeminism and the ballsucking!

Who or what inspired you to write this book?

The prospect of getting money for something I talk about obsessively anyway? I’m just saying, I am a fundamentally mercenary little creature. I’ll write anything if you pay me enough money for it (for the case of antifeminist nonsense, that had better be a LOT of fucking money).

What else about your book might pique the reader’s inter­est?

Well, you can read the first chapter over here to see if you like it! Basically, it’s like the blog except it’s edited, and I swear way less and use proper grammar and am not allowed to go off on tangents about my sex life. So way worse, is my point. Also there are pictures drawn by the incomparable Barry Deutsch. (You should read Hereville. Hereville is awesome.) In the chapter I linked there’s a face that goes RAWR! It’s pretty exciting.

I was technically supposed to, um, get new people to participate in the blog hop, but lol social anxiety, so that did not happen. So if you read NSWATM and you write books or other sorts of things, toss me an email and I’ll put you in the blog hop too, if you’re cool.