The Tale of the NaziFem

A little wander around the interwebs always amuses me, especially when I don't know where I'll end up. I've learned many a little known fact, gossiped over stuff I have no real care for, found great music/movies/people; generally, had a great time.

But ever so often, there's a real WTF moment - and recently there was one I couldn't pass without comment.

So, I was on TvTropes (yes, thank you Maffu - bastard) and ended up finding some ultra Nazi Feminist's blog.

Let's call it the online version of a car crash - bloody disgusting, and shaming to stare at it, even though you can't help it. And no, I'm not linking it.

The woman (and I baulk at calling her that, so lets call her NaziFem) was so twisted, so convinced her way was the only way to be, and even though she stated she would welcome open discussion, she banned certain comments from appearing, if someone was to have a different opinion than hers.

But there was one post in particular really really, offended me. She was getting all uppity about Firefly, and the fact she didn't think it was a female-friendly story. Now, that opinion doesn't bother me, not everyone will like the same things I do because they're stupid, obviously, but she went on to state that the way Joss Whedon writes his women characters obviously means he is a rapist.

I'm serious.

She outright said he rapes his wife.

I wish I was kidding.

NaziFem goes on, after some apparently non offensive (to her) prodding, to state that she believes in the radical version of what is considered rape. Which is to say that if a man (of course) tries to initiate sex (with a woman) it is rape, since the woman didn't ask for sex. Even if she consents, it is still rape, because the man pressured the woman into agreeing.

NaziFem is a lesbian, of course. The worst kind, who give the other, normal lady-lovin' ladies a bad name.

When someone asked NaziFem if a woman tries to have it on with another woman without her prior consent to try, if that was rape, and she admitted she hadn't considered that theory.

Of course.

Another woman commented, and told her that as a rape survivor  (she rightly doesn't want to consider herself a victim), she found the blogger's "crazy notion of rape offensive". Said NaziFem "your opinion isn't welcome here" .

Such a great feminist.

In truth, I've no idea what I'm more angry about. Calling Joss Whedon a rapist is definitely batshit crazy, not because I know for a fact he isn't. But the reasons (and I loathe to say reasons) behind her thought process, which led to this proclamation on such a public forum is exactly why innocent men can and have been accused of  rape. It also belittles Joss Whedon's wife, a woman whom I have no doubt is in a normal, healthy relationship. There is no proof she is a cowering, scared, and abused woman whose husband forces himself emotionally and physically. And yet, NaziFem would  point blank refuse to consider the very real possibility that she was wrong, and anyone who questioned her was either ignored, deleted, told they were obviously stupid and brain-washed by the evil man, or all of the above.

Is this feminism? Taking extremely biased and hate-filled opinions and using them to blast people as stupid and ignorant? Or worse, rapists? No. These "feminists" are not feminists.

Women who want equal rights are feminists. Women who are true feminists don't hate men just because they have a penis.

Women like NaziFem don't want equality. They're guilty of the worst kind of hypocrisy. Just as they assume every man in the world wants to belittle women and "keep them down", if they had it their way, the I AM WOMAN brigade wouldn't seek equality, but would just simply switch the gender roles as they see it and claim superiority over the men. They're guilty because they assume woman who don't agree with their views are stupid and brainwashed by the men, not that they might just hold different and no less valid opinions. And yes, just because I really don't agree with NaziFem's opinion doesn't mean I don't consider it valid. It is, to her. I pity her the same way she pities us poor little brainwashed women with minds of our own.

I want equality. True equality. I want a world that doesn't base opinion on gender, sexuality, race or creed - but personality, talent and worth. I want people to respect, and respectfully agree or disagree with, everyone's else's opinions.

I don't think Joss Whedon rapes his wife. I don't think Mrs Whedon would appreciate the fact anyone would implicate her husband like that.

If that makes me brainwashed, then so be it.

Sometimes, I love it when my boyfriend takes the initiative too.

Suck it.

Damnit

I've realised I can still see... I shouldn't really look back. Or be so damned nosy.

It hurts more than I thought. But then, it shocked me when it hurt at all.

You know that song? The internet really should be for porn. Only porn. And maybe shopping. Never for curious hopes that things are getting better, so you get nosy so you can find out if they are.

I'm away to finish my damn wine.

10 things you may not know about me

1. When I'm alone for a night, I go to sleep watching LOTR. Any of of the movies, even the special fectures. Its my blankie :)

2. I don't like serving female customers with chin hair. I'm not exactly grossed out, it's natural for some, but I always feel like I'm staring then feel guilty for staring.

3. I can quote Dangerous Liaisons (the John Malkovich one) word for word.

4. The first colour I ever dyed my hair was purple, using V05 colour moose.

5. I was the only girl in my group who didn't kiss another girl during the Cathouse "unders" days. I was, and am, the only one who considers herself bisexual.

6. When I'm alone I sometimes listen to 90's teen pop like Jennifer Paige and early Mandy Moore. I'm not ashamed!

7. My favourite feature about myself isn't the obvious. It's my ragged egded ear!

8. I don't think I'll ever find a red lipstick I'll suit, but wear it anyway.

9. I have my funeral plans ready - but nothing for the wedding.

10. There's only one album I can listen to on repeat without ever getting sick of it. Morning View by Incubus.

That's all folks!

Me wantie!

I've been looking through the interwebs for inspiration for our home. So course, I've found it! Tons and tons! 

And then I went to Etsy. Oh Nicki, you stupid stupid girl...

                                              found at whimsicalcollections   

And then there's this...

                                                     from maechevrette

I may cry...

                                          from westbournegrove

Ok, I need to stop now!

After this one...

                                              from FBvintage 

Ok, ok. I'm going.

She got better. 

She cleaned, and rejoiced in fresh air, the kind that smells like clean laundry, coffee and life. She may have had a little boogie with no music playing. She may make cupcakes today, a little seed of an idea planted in her mind and a new goal has formed while the darkness of yesterday left her unable to recognise a glimmer of hope until it started to bloom. 

Yes.

She got out of bed, and cleaned. She knows she's not mad at her family. She's just mad.

Everyone knows that.

I've forgiven myself for my little time apart, and remembered to push forward, into remembering the little joys, greater than the sum of their parts. It's just no fun while I forget. But yes, sometimes I do forget, and I understand and accept that. I have to.

It makes the sudden switch from darkness to light evermore amazing. I blink my way back to where I should be, and memories crash back as I realise how absolutely lucky I am. My smile grows wider. And when my heart feel so big I can hardly contain it - I dance. I dance myself back to life.

But the truest joy isn't that I remember. It's knowing that when I feel like this, anything can happen.

She's in bed, typing away with coffee-burned fingers, her mind fully aware of the absolute state of chaos her house is in. Trying to cope with it has apparently fallen out of fashion, so she does this instead.

She doesn't mind his things coming to stay. A life, 35 years of collecting, resides in the hall and there's just nowhere to put it yet. A blow up bed is deflated in the living room, as she refuses to let her sister stay in her own flat, where it's not safe. All these little clutters are a beast of her own making, but instead of trying to sort it out she lies in bed and types.

She hears the clank of metal buttons scrapping the glass of her washing machine as it spins round. The traffic from behind the still-closed blinds in her bedroom. But she sits apart, wondering why she doesn't just do something. Anything.

She's always happier when she shakes off the moss and her nose is itchy from the smell of cleaning spray as she goes about cleaning, wiping, polishing. She giggles when she does the Shake'N'Vac dance and the powder falling to the floor makes her sneeze. But right now it seems like no matter how she tidies, the place still seems grubby.

Her state of mind is inherently linked to the state of her home. One feeds the other, and vis versa. So, when her home feels spoiled and wrong, so does she - and the feeling gets worse so the house goes neglected as a physical representation of her fractured mind. She knows this is not a new occurrence. She remembers Tarfside, and shudders.

She's off-kilter right now. So she sits in darkness, and waits for something to change.

Stay or go?

I've been neglecting this poor blog for a while now. I know, I'm a bad Miz.

Truth is, I've been writing on another blog. One I've not published yet, so I won't link it quite yet. It just seems like the time to make a change, so much has happened in my life since I first started this blog and I feel I want my blog to reflect that. Plus, there's been quite a few people now telling me I should write, like, really write, and I'm finding it harder to ignore them. I could keep this one going and start the other afresh, I'm not entirely sure on my decision on that yet. The posts I've written for the other blog aren't always as personal as this one, and I'm still in two minds as to how personal I want to go. I've set myself the target of writing at least 2 posts a week until the end of the month, when I will be publishing it, so I'll have a backlog of posts, and always have content ready.

Ah, I'll see.

It'll be interesting to find out.

In the meantime, I'm going to bash my neighbour's door in until they turn down the fucking tv. I'm starting work at 7am, and they should be politely informed of that fact.