So apparently being female and on Facebook is all about seeking validation

I hope Tracy Clark-Flory was just bored, or something. I hope it was a slow news day.

Because – and I mean this in the spirit of sisterhood and camaraderie – who gives a fuck?! And who sincerely wants to live this way? A Facebook friend gets married and posts a bunch of pictures and you’re “pressured”. A single friend jets off to Brazil for Carnival and posts a bunch of pictures and you’re left “bemoaning your choices” or some crap like that. You know, I never thought I’d get to use this word as an insult, but how… middle-class of you.

Is this actually an article about some sort of disorder people have? The “if there are people in my social network whose lives do not line up my own experiences and choices 100%, I’m going to get all down and confused about it – because my ultimately destiny is to be a herd animal” illness? Or does it come down to having way too much time on your hands? Do many men also agonize like this – and simply fail to mention it because men are never supposed to let on to anyone that they, well, agonize like this?

I also love this whole notion how one can either be a woman with kids or a woman with a career – at least according to the article. The one woman profiled who does have kids and a career comes to us via a secondhand account – and is to be pitied, because she sends people late-night texts or whatever. I mean, I understand that so many of these Salon stories are filler, but come on.

Social anxiety is an interesting subject. We express it in new ways (via FB, for example) but the basic concept has remained the same. For people who can afford to take time out of their day to worry about crap like this (is my carriage fashionable enough? Are my status updates witty?), it can indeed be a burden (and just for the record – I can be very sensitive to this stuff as well, when I have the time). But the way it comes of here is flat, one-dimensional and annoying – I don’t have sympathy for the women Clark-Flory profiles, I merely experience a twinge of mild horror at their preoccupations.

This is why I have liked some of the comments to this article:

There are actually grown adults who feel affirmed by making judgmental assumptions from a photo or two on someone’s FB page?

Apparently!

I find it incredible that sites like Salon need to make women feel like they are ‘un-affirmed’ because they are living the life they want.

Me too, actually.

Yawn. Your women friends are boring

Boring in a horrifying way that’s hopefully at least partially exaggerated for the sake of the article.

I’m a married woman very much in love with my husband and I post pictures of my baby as my profile pic because she’s cute. I also am a VP at a large entertainment company and I work hard to have a family, a career, and a relationship.

But you’re not affirming Katherine and Kelly’s choices, dammit! Come on, at least admit that you secretly sniff glue and masturbate to mainstream torture porn! It’ll make other women feel better about themselves! …

… In other news, I should probably just stop reading Salon.

Sick of this Dworkin crap

People who are fans of Andrea Dworkin’s writing insist that she was too ahead of her time for men or women to really get her. I agree in part. Dworkin was, by all evidence, a woman of superior intelligence whose work changed a lot of people’s lives – whether leading to some form of political awakening or else.

One of my own favourite quotes from Dworkin goes like this:

“My fiction is not autobiography. I am not an exhibitionist. I do not show myself. I am not asking for forgiveness. I do not want to confess.”

I don’t necessarily relate to the first part (and as a sidenote, I think the distaste Dworkin had for showing herself had a lot to do with her blanket hatred of pornography), but I’ve always found the combination of statements here to be very powerful.

What I really don’t like is when people decide to swoop down on me or friends of mine, and quote fervently quote Dworkin at us, usually with the implication that we have yet to be introduced to the body of her work.

Here’s the thing – I am familiar with her work and her ideas. Sadly, I view a lot of those ideas in particular as self-defeating and counter-productive, or else downright eerie. And I don’t mean “eerie” as in “OMIGOD, they were just too revolutionary to handle.” I mean “eerie” as in “damn creepy, like if one of my fundamentalist relatives taught a college-level course in sexual ethics and replaced ‘hell’ with ‘sex’ in her lectures.” Too many pseudo-Dworkins in my life already, most of them leading destructive lives, for me not to draw some obvious parallels.

Dworkin’s obsession with “fucking” and “women getting fucked”, for example, has a distinct Old Testament flavour to it (and tends to ignore gay men, bi men and dudes who don’t identify as either but still like to get down for some penetrative action with other dudes). Penetrative sex can come with a lot of negativity and trauma attached, but merely viewing it from that angle is pretty limiting – and this is exactly what many Dworkinites do. As Susie Bright put it in her famous obituary of Dworkin:

“I loved that she dared attack the very notion of intercourse. It was the pie aimed right in the crotch of Mr. Big Stuff. It was an impossible theory, but it wasn’t absurd. There is something about literally being fucked that colors your world, pretty or ugly, and it was about time someone said so.”

Hell yeah. It’s also an experience that men and women share, whether literally or by being able to relate to one another. With few exceptions (Thomas Beatie, anyone?), men cannot get pregnant – and pregnancy remains a life-changing and potentially life-threatening event for women. Many men, on the other hand, risk social ostracism and even violent death if it is revealed that they enjoy being penetrated. There’s lots to talk about here. It is beyond doubt that mainstream attitudes toward penetrative sexual intercourse must change across the board – but reactionary statements about the so-called horror of the practice set the whole process back.

The reason why I bring up Dworkin right now has to do with people who insist on trolling this website while utilizing – and sometimes even plain hijacking – her writing. On this site, I now outright ban people who talk to me as if I’ve never experienced violence, sexual violence in particular. I don’t owe them any explanations, nor do I have to justify myself to them. However, I do wish to address this particular instance of trolling, because it so neatly exemplifies many of the disconnecting factors within Western feminism, to me:

[Persons starts out yelling at me about “embracing the fun-fem label”]

It makes me sad, at 18 years of age and on a full financial ride to a good school (better than the male-dominated campus of Duke), that Im ahead of people like you.

So apparently this young woman will never have to deal with the hell of student debt? Well, mazel tov on that latter bit, for sure, but here’s a tip for later: lecturing someone while simultaneously waving around your privilege and/or assumed privilege? Probably not going to get them to listen. It’s a familiar standard of behaviour, though. “Listen to me, because I’m better than you.” Honey, nobody who is confident in her ideas actually acts like this.

You say youre pregnant with a ‘patriarchal oppressor.’ Do you know what words like that mean? Are you going to take responsibility when your son is old enough to be violent toward women? Do you know what bringng [sic] more men into the world means?

The funny thing about bringing people into this world – you don’t know how they’re going to turn out. I’m sure that Jack the Ripper’s mother had no crystal ball handy. But you do the best you can, because that’s the only way to ever get anywhere, once you’ve made the choice to have a child.

Another funny thing about bringing people into this world – you have no idea what the world has in store for them. Will they be drafted into some stupid war? Claimed by some preventable disease? You don’t know any of these things. You just swallow your fears and keep on going.

Something tells me that the cub will kick some ass in this world – and his father and I will do our best to steer him to kick the right kind of ass. What we will not do is apologize for having a boy. I will never question my future kid’s self-worth in that particular manner, and won’t let anyone question his self-worth in that manner. Navigating male privilege as a parent is one thing – debating the ethics of having boys is straight out of dear Adolf’s eugenics handbooks. And “I am not asking for forgiveness. I do not want to confess.” Shaming mothers is a popular pastime, even in feminist communities, but screw that.

I doubt you got pregnant via arrtificial insemination; therefore, you have a lot to think about with regard to sex and fucking and women getting fucked. Your life very obviously evolves around the phallus, around the man, right now, and this is exactly how men want it (why else did you get married?). Andre Dworkin was very eloquent when writing on this subject, you should read her before running your mouth on radical feminism. [A bunch of links to creepy websites were creepy people discuss other people’s personal lives creepily]

Didn’t get pregnant via artificial insemination? Why, this might mean that she’s not a virgin… Anyone who’s not a virgin in the traditional sense of the world naturally dedicates her life to “the phallus.” I’m not sure what that means in practice, but it sure sounds entertaining.

See, this is kind of a twisting of Dworkin already, because while the lady did have some weird opinions, she correctly recognized that belittling and punishing women for engaging in sexual intercourse was something that people who view women as lower life-forms truly excel at. Otherwise, the most common insult used against a woman wouldn’t be… yeah, exactly.

If you think radical feminists insult you, just think about the fact that the men insult you too, only much worse.

Oh, so it’s OK for a woman to belittle another woman for engaging in sexual intercourse, because, um… No, sorry, that got old years ago.

Maybe through insult some women can be urged into a greater awakening.

Oh, I get it! So when my dad tells me he wants to lose weight and wants me to support him, I should turn around and call him a “fat fucking slob.” For his sake. I’m so glad I’ve got 18-year-old feminist scholars who recently discovered the word “phallus” to teach me the finer points of consciousness raising, political organizing, improving one’s lot, etc. I could apply my newly acquired skills anywhere, and totally win, you guys.

Beucause [sic] there is nothing worse than a woman who claims the feminism mantle but does nothing toward a real revolution.

Here’s a list of things I consider to be really revolutionary: Listening to sex-workers and former sex-workers of all stripes, working towards making the lives of sex-workers and former sex-workers safer, challenging transphobia, organizing around issues like healthcare, childcare, the rights of women serving in the armed forces, (the list goes on and it’s damn long), continuing to bust myths around sexual violence (re: the idiotic response to the assault on Lara Logan, for example), resisting attempts to police women’s appearance, helping raise a generation that will not internalize most myths on sexual violence (yeah, this is where parental responsibility would come in, I’d say), make sure said generation actually has a planet that’s not totally destroyed to live on, etc.

Let me be honest – I’m a writer and a journalist, not an activist. What Joan Didion once referred to as the “irreducible ambiguities” of fiction is the main context I operate within. Yet as a writer and journalist and person who often has a public platform, I do what I can when it comes to political issues I consider important. I want to do more, and will keep on doing more. While you’re busy discussing “the revolution” in the commenting sections of various blogs, other people are out there doing shit. Sometimes, I even get to be one of them.

It’s easy to take Dworkin’s name in vain. Or show up on other people’s blogs to dissect their personal lives, because, as Clarice Starling might say, pointing that high-powered (or not even that high-powered) perception at yourself can be frightening. But all of that is only tangential to feminism. Feminism, to me, is mostly about being practical. It’s about stuff I can do and want to do and Dworkin, God bless her, had very little insight into actual desire.

Yeah, Patrick Smith’s latest column on air travel kind of sucks…

I get that screaming/crying children on planes are a nuisance. But in my considerable flying experience, only about 5% of them are, you know, poorly behaved and doing it on purpose. The rest can’t help it. Babies especially. Air travel can be hell on an adult body – it can also be hell on a small child’s body, and small children don’t yet possess the necessary coping skills to avoid causing a ruckus.

I feel hella bad for myself when stuck on a long flight next to a crying child – I also tend to feel bad for the child. And the parent. Because it’s not as if the crying itself is not bad enough – there’s also the dirty looks from everyone else.

There are some really awful, spoiled kids out there – but for most, irritating behaviour on airplanes, crying in particular, is not a choice.

Now here are some people who do, on the other hand, make a choice:

Pervy older guy who was a total sleazebag? Made a choice!

Dude who put his seat all the way back and didn’t want to raise it during meal-time (I was sitting behind him and couldn’t figure out how to eat, since I couldn’t unfold my tray properly. The flight attendant had words with him. Dude bitched both of us out)? Made a choice!

The people who get roaring drunk and start yelling/throwing up/otherwise being pricks? Are making a freaking choice!

Drunk woman who told my dad to “go back to Russia” after he expressed his displeasure at her nearly dropping her suitcase on him while she was standing up in the aisle? Made a choice!

People who sexually harass the flight attendant? Are making a choice!

Couples having incredibly loud, incredibly obnoxious fights on an airplane? Also making a choice. Look, I have some experience arguing with an SO while on an airplane. Screaming “FUCK YOU I KNOW YOU FUCKED THAT DUDE!!!” is kind of rude. Wait till you get to your hotel room. Really, I am sorry that she fucked that dude, dude. If it’s true and you’re not just making shit up, that is. But when you start screaming about it, it distresses me and it distresses the other passengers (and causes small children to start crying, incidentally.

People who make a horrible mess with their food and belongings and don’t bother cleaning up? Goddamn choice.

I could go on, but the point is – there’s good flights and bad flights. On the bad flights I’ve been on, kids have rarely been the problem, and even when they were, it was mostly over stuff they had no power over to begin with. And believe me, I’ve seen some HORRIBLE kids and even MORE HORRIBLE parents (and the worst, by far, was an English lady who smacked her kid around and yelled expletives at him). But they’re still a minority.

When people make blanket statements demonizing all children they’re also just demonizing mothers. Who are still primarily the ones taking care of children and who should stay at home with their brood until they’re all 18, obviously. Nothing sexist about that, right?

Pregnant with a “patriarchal oppressor”!

(Officially confirmed by ultrasound. But I knew as much anyway.)

If my instincts are correct, this one will be a boy’s boy. A bit of an Alexander the Great (or Alexander of Macedonia, as they call him around here) underneath it all. A combination of his father’s spirit and his mother’s dorkage, I think.

One person has already asked me if I’m “relieved” that the future kid has the right set of genitals. I mean, we all know that husbands want boys. Russian husbands especially. According to all the usual stereotypes, that is.

I’m happy that something that I thought is probably the case looks like it is actually the case, for sure. I’m happy for another moment of clarity. I feel relief at the fact that so far, this pregnancy is going to plan, and hope that it will keep going to plan. I don’t feel that there is any dissonance between myself and my husband on these matters. He’s happy that we’re having a kid. It’s our latest collaboration, and it’s pretty damn cool.

This week, I was also amused to read about how:

“Funfems object to being called cum guzzling pole dancers, not because that is a rude thing to say, but because it’s true.”

Oh God, ahahaha. I wish I could pole dance with the baby bump.

Though it’s funny how once they’re aware of your pregnancy, people attempt to strip away everything that makes you, well, you. You can’t be sexual, because you’re a “mommy” (even though, like Sarah Jaffe pointed out to me the other day – pregnancy can be used as visible evidence of the fact that you are, in fact, sexual). And you can’t be radical – because mommies are soft and cuddly creatures. And people forget that you have a job. And they don’t think it’s nice of you to write plays with zombies in them (my new one has zombies. Again. But maybe this one won’t get ripped to shreds by Maks Kurochkin. Maybe).

That last thing is really the worst, isn’t it? Hands off my zombies. Alexander of Macedonia loves them too.