Turd Burglar (tm) Of the Week

[trigger warning for rape, rape culture]

So an off-duty NYPD officer raped a teacher in an alley, some quick thinking neighbor blew the whistle, he's now suspended without pay and has been stripped of his badge. Good. The teacher was immediately taken to the hospital after the the cops intervened. Good.

Distraught, unsettled neighbor says "It's so unbelievable."

Unfortunately, it's not.  Of the two biggest rape cases in the NY Metro area this year, the first, committed by cops...they got off. The second, DSK...he's going to get off (I hate to be cynical, but come on).  Why be surprised when this happens? I'm not saying that this particular rapist looked at those two cases and went "Hey, they got away with it! Time for some rapin'!" On the other hand, in a culture that blames victims first, prosecutes later, why wouldn't a rapist be emboldened? With so much sickness in the air, folks are bound to come down with a few colds. Or something.
The indulgence of male privilege and rape-apologia is real, and makes the rape epidemic worse. It's a vicious fucking cycle, and until we must keep calling out Turd Burglars when they are caught, and furthermore, not shake our heads in confusion when a violent culture produces violent people.

In order to lighten my mood, I bequeath the title of Turd Burglar of the Week to the rapist. Fuck that guy.

My heart goes out to the victim. And thank goodness that in this case, our officers did their job and took that bastard down.

Hurrumph.

-Starbuck

Viper Jock Has Serious Thoughts On The Patriarchy and Kink

3. The revolution will render all graphic representations of rape obsolete by smashing the domination/submission paradigm.

As someone who employs the D/S dynamic in her bedroom adventures with the SO and is somewhat involved in the culture of BDSM, it makes me uncomfortable the degree to which I agree with Jill. But is the D/S dynamic something that can be gotten rid of? Is it not present the world over in many lifeforms aside from humans? Even if it is, does that mean it’s inherent, or is it socialized into us? Is it all a product of the switch from forager-to-agriculture? I have so many questions and I’m not sure I want the answers. Living as a member of an oppressed class is depressing, obviously, and it becomes more so the more I learn about the myriad ways the P has got me down. I feel alone, powerless and pissed off, and when I don’t have energy to be pissed off, I try to simply shut down and walk around numb, insulating myself against the hate and and the sludge by detaching emotionally as much as I can.
I am reminded of a piece done on the equality issues inherent within the BDSM scene  and how even though its members usually strive to be as egalitarian as possible, it is impossible to create a sub-culture free of the dominant culture’s influence, and thus the BDSM scene is not without its misogyny and hetero-centrism.
I tend to agree with Radfems on many issues, but BDSM is not one of them. Porn...it’s tricky. I see the points they make, and intellectually they are solid, but I don’t see how it would possible to strip humanity of its current state of D/S; is there a middle step between D/S and something else?  From what I understand, Radfems like the author of the above post take issue with BDSM precisely because of its explicit fetishization of violence, D/S, subjugation of women, etc.  While the concerns are valid, I don’t think that’s whole picture. Our society does fetishize those things, and it is harmful to women in many ways. But my experience within BDSM has been the opposite.

By taking these dynamics that are harmful when forced upon the participants, as happens in daily life, they become empowering when we take them on freely. We are able to act out the internalized notions of violence and subjugation, and purge ourselves of their influence.  Perhaps when persons participate in D/S kink, it is a form of dealing, interpreting, and revolting.  We already know that Freud’s ideas of kinkiness being rooted in childhood abuse is balderdash.  But, as I said before, no sub-culture is free of the dominant culture’s influence, no matter how fucked up it is. Our socialization matters.  So what I’m getting at here, is that kinky sex/play is one big giant coping mechanism for those who, consciously or not, are fed up with the roles a Patriarchal society foists upon them, and want a means to express those D/S roles in a healthy, consensual way.

For my part, I can only say that discovering my kinky side has led to personal growth and establishment of barriers. Kink taught me how to say what I liked, what I did not like, and gave me parameters within which I could discuss my needs and a language to express them. At first I was reluctant to embrace my bottomy desires, because I thought that might make me a weak person. And as someone who has been trodden on her whole life in various ways, I was not too keen on it.  Much to my surprise, embracing my submissive side in kinky play/sex correlated to me becoming a much more outspoken, independent person.  I can’t say for sure that kink caused me to nurture a bolder side of myself, as I got other shit goin’ on, but it was certainly a factor.
I’m sure one could say this is just massive rationalization of the fucked-upness of the P, and I’m just trying to make myself feel better about my participation in said fucked-upness.  That may very well be.  At the same time, I cannot help that fact that getting tied up and flogged gets me wet. It just does. For as long as I can remember, and likely for a long time to come (heh. See what I did there?).  
I think the Kink world has plenty o’issues, and those do need to be worked on.  But that doesn’t mean give up, it means keep making noise so that we can all have safer, healthy experiences in the future.

Time to drop, I gotta open the bar the next three days in a row.  But then, sweet, sweet, vacation!

-Starbuck

UPDATE!

I still have not gone to Home Depot.

I've been having a very hard time falling asleep the last few days, which has led to me sleeping in more, staying up later, wash, rinse, repeat. And more weird, vivid dreams.  This last one involved me keeping my old ferret in the refrigerator (not because he was dead; I guess he was like an arctic ferret...Arctic Ferrets should be the name of a band. Someone get on this.) while also shopping for a new family dog. And one of the regulars at my bar was wandering around, though I have no idea why. Don't particularly feel anything about this person, so them popping up in my subconscious is odd.

I wonder if I have time to get anything done before work. Maybe, if I leave right now, and stop writing. Now. Go! Get up! Or, have more coffee. -sip-

I haven't written anything remotely poem-like in a while. I should get on that.

Also, must continue to plan the upcoming trip to visit the older brother and sister-in-law and cute squishy niece. Seriously, she's so frakking cute.  I'm not big on babies, and I realize I may be biased in this case, but she's so. Damn. Cute. I want to punch her, she's so adorable.  Does anyone else have that urge, when something is so lovely and precious and huggable you just want to hurt it? Like, "God, that hamster is cute I want to eat it." No? Just me and the MF I guess.  Carry on.

-Starbuck

Pull a John C Lilly Sans LSD

Totally unrelated, but I have been having seriously vivid dreams and I really want to try an isolation tank. There are at least two places in NYC that offer them as a form of spa treatment, and I can't wait to sign up. The one and only time I've been able to meditate into a deep, centered place for about 30 minutes, I started to have colorful, intense visions, or picture-thoughts, or whatever. It was rad, and I want to experience that again. I often feel like I'm cut off from parts of my brain that I need, and know I have, but can't get to, and it's incredibly frustrating.
I'll have a wacky, sensational dream, and wake up only to find it slipping away, and then my mind just sort of becomes a grey buzz of feedback, like listening to a crowd from far away.  I want to get back in touch with my brain, basically. Anyway.

I will try to refrain from having visions of this whilst in-tank. 

-Starbuck

Woe to Me! Existential Angst As Experienced by A Depressed Talking Feminist Monkey

[Trigger warnings for rape culture, alcoholism]
So last night I was at work (sometimes at my job I answer phones in the basement, and as a consolation prize for this shit, I get a laptop to fart around on. This makes it awesome) and reading some of my Angry Lady Blogs (tm), which, note, I have actually reduced the reading of, because the things I read so often make me really angry, and if I'm not at home where I can channel this aggression by grabbing my cat and and screaming "WHY? WHY, FLUFFY, WHY*?" then it's best to avoid the triggering material. But sometimes, I just can't help myself. So on this particular occasion I linked to some of these articles on my Facebook, and got into a lengthy debate with the ManFriend. Now, my MF is pretty amazing in most ways, and very supportive of feminist causes, but sometimes we speak a different language, especially when typing to each other. Anyway, I got royally pissed at him, and at myself, because "I must not be speaking clearly enough! Why isn't he getting this?" and was in a right awful mood when I got home.

Rewind. Add to this pile that earlier in the day I had  begun to write about some teenage experiences that were less than fun.  I may be posting some of it later, but it has to do with my depression and anxiety, and being the child of an alcoholic, and all the problems that creates. In addition, I've been planning a trip to go visit my very conservative brother and sister-in-law with my very conservative sister, all of whom I love dearly, but who can never let anything the fuck go. I'm worried that I'll spend this whole trip defending my views and soaking up repressed Catholic bitterness then soaking up UV rays.

So, feeling depressed and cut off from family, some of the only people who can relate to me in terms of my interpersonal skills (severely affected by being raised in an alcoholic environment), and then raging with my MF about Rape Culture led to this nasty downspiral of self-loathing and world-loathing that really ruined my night. Luckily, the MF and I were able to work things out before falling asleep, and I am now in much better sorts.

Anyway, the point of this, is that sometimes I really truly hate being female, and being a feminist.  I already feel pretty fucking alone in the world, due the circumstances in which I was raised, as well as my own mental chemistry. Add onto that the fact that most of the world hates my principles and wants to squash me because I'm a loud, angry woman.....just, Ugh Cakes, all around. Have an Ugh Cake!

Alright, I have to go to Home Depot. I'm cool like that.

-Starbuck

*My cat's name is not actually Fluffy. "Fluffy" is an alias.

Merlot Makes the Day Vanish

Haven't written anything substantial in months. Le sigh, but my ancient netbook is in my lap so I might as well put something down here.

I have to keep reminding myself not to read any feminist blogs before going to work; it just makes me hate all my customers; every request for another Bud Light prefaced by some troglodyte grabbing my elbow (because I'm a female and that automatically means he has the right to touch my body) instills a prehistoric animal rage that makes me want to scream "Get your own fucking beer, and if you touch me again, you are going to lose an eye!" and then I remember that I could be answering phones in a temp agency which would be far more maddening, so I refrain.

I'm pretty sure radfems would scoff at my luke-warm liberal feminism, and I can't always say they're wrong.
Jill's thoughts on the super-creepy sexualized Thylane Blondeau photos are pretty on point.


Ugh,  I slept the day away because I was up late with Yellowtail and friends. Worth it though; we came up with ideas for our very own Youtube project.  I performed for the first time in ages and it felt so good. Giddy up!

-Starbuck

Horrible Bosses, Horrible Ads

Okay, this movie looks terrible all around.  Though I do love a lot of the cast, it just doesn't look funny.  Then there's that line (that is in the trailer), where when Charlie Day's character describes his ongoing sexual assault by Aniston's character, one of the other dudes replies "yours doesn't sound that bad."  Hey! Sexual assault is HILARIOUS.  And when it's a woman doing the assaulting, it's not really assault because the menz want sex ALL THE TIME, and wimminz are weak and don't like sex and can never be a threat to anyone! Hur hur hur! Ugh. So there's that.

And then. AND THEN. I see an ad for it on Facebook today.  It's a picture of Day and Aniston, him looking afraid, her looking sexy. Under the title, it reads

"Is your boss a sex crazed maneater? Take out the boss July 8."

Observe:

Wait. I thought the problem was that she was, yanno, ASSAULTING HIM.  Not just...liking sex.  Which one is it?  This ad argues it's both. If you are a woman and you like sex and pursue for its own sake, you are BAD.  And we're GOING TO KILL YOU FOR IT.

Or something along those lines.  Either way, it pissed me off. UGH UGH UGH.

So while I'm sure there are other movies coming out soon with equally offensive subplots, I'm definitely not going to see it.

-Starbuck

"Over"Reacting

A few hours ago I was headed into the apartment building with the boyfriend.  Two small boys were also entering the same door, both maybe 7 years old.  We all get into the elevator and I hear one say to the other, “...scratches leave evidence.” And it was really sad.

Now, maybe I am assuming WAY too much about the nature of their conversation, as that was really all I heard clearly. But I know the first thing that made me think of was assault. Specifically, a sexual assault against a woman.  Not that dudes never claw each other in a fight, but swinging fists are more the norm, yeah? This isn’t about pearl-clutching about kids knowing about violence and engaging in mock violence.  I know when I was a kid, me and my 3 brothers and 1 sister would fight each other all the time, with hands, sticks; we called the bigger games that involved other kids “War.”  I also recall having a pretty intense fascination with gore and violence, and I still do, to a degree. Anyway, it’s normal for a child to be curious about things outside their realm.

But at 7 years old, that thought would never have crossed my mind.  Because why would I care?  If I smack my sister, she’ll get pissed, and then my parents will intervene, or not, whatever.  I’m not worrying about the cops and being tried and imprisoned.  But, then, that was then, this is now, and for all my family’s dysfunction, I still experienced a very privileged upbringing. So, there’s that.  But it just struck me as tragic that THAT was the topic of two little boys discussion.  On top of that, I read a statistic recently that talked about kids being aware at an earlier age of the concept of rape (specifically, little boys) which just made me want to stab the nearest anything.  

I don’t know if they were talking about attacking/fighting another little boy, or a little girl; neither is  pleasant prospect.  There isn’t really a point to this post, so much as I wanted to express how much overhearing that exchange bothered me.  And I’ve hear and seen plenty of horrible things, but it was a “from the mouths of babes” kind of thing that just really depressed me.  How fucked up is our entire world when babies are talking about this shit?  When babies are having it done to them?  Ugh, I just can’t.

All that said, I’m trying to find a balance between how fired up I get about The Issues and how to stay sane.  I know the “Personal Is Political” and yada yada, which is a GOOD thing, but as a hot-off-the-grill feminist I wonder if I don’t overreact to things sometimes.  My boyfriend, who I started dating at the start of the real change of my world outlook, has been very patient with me, and I with him.  He thinks I go too far sometimes, I think he’s brainwashed sometimes. All within rational discussion, and it varies topic to topic. But I don’t want to be so fire-and-brimstone that I push people away from or out of discussion. I want to make the people I engage with THINK. And I know that’s not going to happen often, if at all.  

Taking that a little farther, even if I am, hypothetically “overreacting” to things, as a member of an oppressed class, isn’t that EXACTLY what I should be doing? Because it’s not really and “overreaction” is it? And why should I be rational, and patient and NOT point out blatant misogyny when it all too frequently rears its pernicious (totes Word of the Day, yo) head? People rarely change their mind via rational debate anyway.  You debate with others in order to rationalize your own POV.  And as that’s the case, why bother even having rational discussions. The facts are out there.  Anyone can find them, I managed to, and I’m not exactly a pro at navigating through bullshit.  So instead of trying to present facts that are very easily found, shouldn’t I just be yelling and screaming and setting shit on figurative fire?  Because that’s how points are made these days, it seems.  I remember several years ago, when I was still -gasp- REALLY conservative, my also conservative brother made a point that the Right needed to be louder and more obnoxious in order to win.  That’s what the Left was doing, and at the time, shit was getting done.  And whaddya-fuckin-know, my brother was right.  Because now we have dangerous TrueBelievers like Bachmann.

So, you know, it’s something I’m still trying to figure out.  I am only just now really learning about the gross inequalities present in the world, maybe I should be a little patient with my friends.  Also, now I have a blog with which I can publish my rants! Yay!

-Starbuck

I Like it When Girls Look Like Boys.

[Edit: really going to try to post more often. Really. No, really.]
 I want to talk about my personal struggle with traditional beauty ideals. Here is Agyness Deyn lookin' awfully schmexy all trussed up like the Rebel.

So James "Anything You Can Do I Can Do Not Exactly Better But I Can Still Do It" Franco did this photoshoot for Elle. Meh, whatever, cool photos, pretty ladies. I dig.

Continue reading after the jump:

Becoming

This is my second blog, and while I will keep the other one, it will probably be used solely for poetry and art posting.  I feel time and again that I have not been talking about the things that I really want to talk about for fear of family/friend backlash, and I've been letting that fear stop me from writing. So by going anonymous, I'll hopefully free myself up a bit.  And let's face it, there's some stuff my siblings just don't need to know about me.

So, those of you that I have invited to read this and are friends of mine IRL, I am trusting you to not share too much. Cool? Rad. If that's too much to ask....um, don't read it.

Anyway. Have a lot bouncing around the ol' birdsnest these days.  Learning to be in a serious, longterm (for me) relationship and also how to co-habitate.  I'll be probably be moving back to Brooklyn soon, but it's been a learning experience.
My intellectual study of feminism, gender and sex is becoming more and more personal. I am starting to put together the pieces of my past that I either blocked out or didn't realize were important, to bring myself closure and acceptance of the person I am becoming.  More on that in coming posts.

Right now the thing on the biggest thing on mind is the burrito that should have been here by now. I am frakking starving. And yes, the nom de plume is an all too obvious Battlestar Galactica reference. Sue me. No, don't, I have nothing! Be kind to me!

Also I'll probably/hopefully be more eager to post without fear of criticism from nearest and dearest; this is a safe space to figure out my writing voice.

YES, food is here.

Out.

Testing

Test post

Hellooooooooooo

Hi there

Heya

Hey

'Sup