Sexual Harassment in Amman SUCKS

Just thought I’d get it out there. In case you were wondering.

I got dropped off near a store after work yesterday, at around 7 p.m. I bought some groceries and, laden with bags and my work satchel, clickedy-clacked in my favourite pumps up to the house. I love the sound those things make when they strike pavement. I loved the stars overhead and I loved the sound of someone playing “Jeshana” on their car stereo.

Of course, my mood was to good. Some dude came along to fix that for me. He started following me, trying to talk to me and get me to go somewhere with him, from what I could understand. I stoically ignored him.

I shook him after a few minutes, my pulse already quickened, fighting the urge to start running (I would have looked rather silly, anyway).

Then I passed one of the nicest houses on our street, a place where even in the winter it smells a little bit like jasmine. I noticed an older men and two kids that looked like his teenage sons, waiting by the door. The trio stared at me as if I had two heads.

Well, whatever, I thought.

Then, when I had already passed him, I heard one of the kids go – “5 dinar, baby.”

I whipped my head around, and there he was, grinning at me like an idiot. I considered tossing one of my beer cans at his head, but it would have been a waste of a perfectly good beer. So I kept walking, the bags feeling just a little bit heavier in my hands.

Just another evening in Amman.

I am (trashy) Spartacus

In solidarity with the divine Caroline.


Tasty glass necklace: Anthropologie. Ring: Russian Orthodox Church gift shop (Moscow Patriarchate). Trash: authentic, E. Euro, hey-bitch-you’re-not-on-the-guest-list riffraff stock.

Regular readers of this blog know that I never need an excuse to put up a trash-tastic or otherwise over-the-top picture, but credit must be given to Fearless Feminist Warrior, FA, for the inspiration. FA is one of the mysteries of the internet universe. She’s a woman-loving feminist, very fond of words like “trash” and “whore,” who first launched her internet career by loudly complaining about my “perky tits” and the perky tits of diverse blogosphere denizens such as Renegade Evolution, Jill Fillipovic, and Apostate.

FA is in a class of her own. Though she sympathizes, to some degree, with radical feminists, she thinks that Twisty is too soft, and neither does she appear to be a Cheryl Seelhoff fan.

Rumour has it than FA is an elaborate joke – created by someone just bored enough. If this is indeed the case, I take my skull-patterened scarf off in honour of the prankster. FA may not be particularly believable (if only because one hopes such people don’t really exist), but she certainly is good for a laugh.

Trash on, my dear sisters.

Radical Feminists and the “Wrong” Kind of Sexual Abuse Survivors: Or Why We Should All Just Slit Our Throats

Satsuma, a radical feminist minion/smelly sockpuppet, has really, really made me mad just now. Satsuma, for those of you lucky enough to have been shielded from her radioactive stupidity up until now, hangs out over on the website of one Cheryl “Heart” Seelhoff (don’t try to leave comments over there, like, ever, they’ll be censored or deleted).

Wise minds have suggested that Satsuma is an invention of Heart. While we cannot verify such claims at this time, we do have our own suspicions.

Now, I’ve already spoken about radical feminists and the “wrong” kinds of women: the “wrong” abuse survivor, the “wrong” PTSD sufferer, etc.

So I am not altogether surprised to see comments like this one, containing statements  that reduce us all to pathetic caricatures, even going as far as claiming that any sort of intimate contact with a man “taints” a woman (boy, that’s a “new” one. Kind of like those Victorian rape survivors who could never been seen in polite society again, eh?).

What Satsuma is suggesting is that all women who have ever been in sex-work or have ever supported sex-work in any way, shape, or form – are all survivors of childhood sexual abuse. And that these survivors cannot think for themselves, they cannot be responsible for themselves, and that they should not be taken seriously.

There are several things going on here: Continue reading “Radical Feminists and the “Wrong” Kind of Sexual Abuse Survivors: Or Why We Should All Just Slit Our Throats”

I has fringe and glasses! I can has Paglia’s love too?

Second highest office in the land and all I need to do is rock that fringe? O RLY?
Second highest office in the land and all I need to do is rock that fringe? O RLY?

The funniest thing about Camille Paglia singing “My Creepy Valentine” to Sarah Palin again, is Camille’s insistence that it was the evil Democrats who hunted poor Palin like a wolf from a helicopter (individual hunters are more respectful of the environment than the food industry, and they aid in conservation efforts when species overpopulation is a problem – but wolves from helicopters? The hell?).

Didn’t Paglia get the memo? The people out for Palin’s blood, the ones publishing weird stories about her, even suggesting that she all but came on to several campaign staff-members – are bitter Republicans.

Democrats don’t pretend to like Palin (and guess what? They don’t have to), but it was the Republicans who wanted a sweet, submissive little VP, then started snarling when things didn’t go as planned.

Of course, Paglia doesn’t have the balls to say it. It’s better to examine the sweater that Bill Ayers’ wife wore, like, 30 years ago (I shit you not).

My favourite of Paglia’s lines about Palin must be the following gem:

There is a powerful clarity of consciousness in her eyes.

Oh, you mean, like, she’s AWAKE? That’s cool, I guess. You never know when the GOP may slip a coma patient past us during an election cycle. Better take what you can get, I suppose.

I also found it interesting that for all of the hand-wringing on Palin, Paglia kept her mouth firmly shut on the slurs against Obama, on the fact that “Arab” was used as an insult against him, on Colin Powell’s stance concerning the sleazy tactics, or on the fact that Palin never gave a press conference – greatly contributing to the media’s animosity towards her, and rightly so. Doesn’t mean you have to give the Obama presidency a blank check, but addressing some of the virulent hatred that Palin’s own supporters have spewed at him would have been honest, at the very least.

I hate to even admit this, because you will laugh at me… Continue reading “I has fringe and glasses! I can has Paglia’s love too?”


Ukrainian police – you done made me proud.

Not really, no.

Ukraine’s sex-workers are shamed already; shamed, and attacked, and demonized by the very same society that profits greatly from them. Many of them are no more than slaves. Others just aren’t bloody interested in working in McDonald’s or whatever, and they have the right not to be. Very few have access to adequate healthcare, just like many of Ukraine’s citizens in general.

Sex-workers are some of Ukraine’s most marginalized citizens, and the efforts to marginalize them further are pathetic. At best, they hint at the fact that the police lacks the resources to go after real criminals – extortionists, child molesters, abusive spouses – or else simply does not feel that their crimes really warrant as much of a fuss.

Instead of going after violent pimps and shady brothel-owners, instead of insisting to their superiors that prostitution needs to be at the very least decriminalized (which, if you ask most cops, it does), someone in the Ukraine police force has decided that the officers are better off trying to turn these women’s families against them.


What’s next? A mandatory scarlet “A”? Public flogging?