Victim Blaming Vs. Victim Responsibility pt. 2

The selfish lifestyles of the middle / upper class have created nasty inhuman individuals whose lives are so wretchedly poor that they no longer have anything to lose.

I’m sure someday we’ll solve this complicated social problem because we’re obviously the smartest people in the world. But for now, unless you’re rich and smart enough to be kept safe all the time (you always have your own car / driver, you have people around to look after you, you know what situations to avoid) you WILL face these inhuman individuals, and they WILL hurt you if they can.

Those slogans you see around? “My clothes are not my consent”? Those were created by rich white girls who have approximately 0.00000% chance of being gang-raped and left for dead. They don’t know you. They don’t know your situation. Why would you let them influence your behavior? They’re not your mother, they’re not your best friend, but most importantly, they’re not you. You owe it to yourself to understand your situation and protect your weaknesses.

I don’t want this online movement to make you ignore the danger of your reality. Like I said, someday we’ll solve everything – I’ll make the feminist equivalent of The Playboy Mansion where we’ll all live happily ever after and bond in sisterly love or whatever. You gotta stay alive for that. I’m barely in my twenties, dammit, give me some time. For now, I have these tips for you:

1. Glasses lessen the slut factor of any outfit by about 70%. If you have 20/20 vision, use a pair without lenses.

2. Fix your walk. It’s probably the most little-known yet significant factor of how criminals select their victims.

3. During events that end late at night, do not rely on transportation from vague acquaintances or flaky friends. If there’s no other transportation available, skip the fucking event. It won’t kill you, but a rapist might.

4. About 90% of guys who approach you when you look hot are just brimming with shit. Say you have a boyfriend or something. (Note: if you want a boyfriend who likes you for you, try dating someone who sees you often not looking your best. Like a PE classmate or something, god I don’t know.)

5. Become healthy and strong. work out a lot. eat vegetables. i’m sleepy

Sex, Solved

I.

What’s the difference between a partner and a fuck buddy? (Barring stupid games of sexual manipulation)

PARTNERS

Person 1: I’m headed to this place.

Person 2: I’m headed there too.

Person 1: Wanna go together?

Person 2: Sure!

* * *

FUCK BUDDIES

Person 1: I’m headed to this place.

Person 2: I’m headed somewhere different, but I can go your way for a bit. Want me to come?

Person 1: Sure!

II.

There was someone, once, who would see me when she was around. She promised me nothing. We knew there was no future at all for us. She made it clear for me in the sweetest way.

She touched me and held me outside. Sent me money when I was broke. (That was nice.) Fucked me just how I like it. Toasted me with sweet wine at brunch, and said: Everyone here knows that I want you.

She was never mine, and I was never hers. Everything was so… good…

So many people have promised me the world. No one has delivered. It’s somehow all worse when they try and fail, than if they never try at all.

III.

In this society, people want everything to be simple. It’s ALWAYS or NEVER. It’s THE WHOLE SHITLOAD or NONE AT ALL.

There’s nothing unusual about someone sprinkling pepper on his food, but if you see that same person eating bowls of pepper, then you know he’s got a problem. In some aspects of life we do understand the concept of moderation. Right? So why do people think they have to be BORING NERDS or STUPID SHITS? Why is it ROSS or JOEY, when Ross is a martyr whose goodness is unsustainable and unhealthy, and Joey is disgustingly selfish? Why is it that people think I must feel only SWEET PLATONIC ADORATION for someone or WANT TO USE THEM LIKE A FUCKING WHORE? No one seems to understand how it’s possible for me to respect and admire someone and also desire them sexually.

The question isn’t how I combine the two, but why they were ever separated in the first place. If everyone felt and nourished sexual desire only for people they respected, that solves the whole problem of rape culture / sexual harassment / “it’s complicated” – type relationship where one is screwing the other emotionally. That’s how sex is supposed to work between humans, because of this whole society thing that we have where we aren’t compelled biologically to fuck everyone all the time to propagate the species. (See: every other living thing on earth.) We have these complex brains that make sex a socially complicated thing. It’s not just for making babies anymore. It means a lot of things. It’s difficult to handle. That’s why children aren’t allowed to have sex. That’s why you need to think and act like an adult if you want to have sex. And that all starts, again, with consideration for another person’s thoughts and feelings.

“But we agreed it was just sex!” Shut up. Humans rarely ever say what they really mean. Most communication is nonverbal. Babies and children understand situations and build relationships with others without knowing a single word. You communicated things without words. You made promises with your kisses. I know you didn’t mean to, but you did. Your words don’t excuse you. And if someone did this to you, their words don’t excuse them either. If you’re going to nitpick a previous agreement to escape your obligation to take care of the feelings of the human being you’ve been fucking, you’re not a person who’s trying to have a connection with someone else; you’re a freaking lawyer. Put your dick away and take your shit to court where it belongs.

IV.

I have sex with someone now. She reads this… (Hi!!!) We talk. I like to make sure that she’s fine, and she does too.

I know it sounds like bullshit, but I really do think that someone else can make her happier than I can.

I won’t claim a heart that I can’t care for.

Your dear heart is probably more precious than you think. And if I stole it by mistake, I’m going to give it back because hearts belong with whoever (whomever?) can care for them the best.

But since we’re both going this way…

Victim Blaming vs. Victim Responsibility pt. 1

 

this is gonna make him stop when he’s got his dick out

Buried this for a long time because I am having a lot of trouble polishing this concept but I’ve seen a recent resurgence in anti-slut-shaming whatevers online and I’m going to rush this series to help sort out this issue, before lots of girls decide to join y’alls in your hallucinatory world where real rapists can be fended off with catchy slogans.

Concept introduced to me by Jason Pargin.

* * * * * * *

I. Definition and Examples

Blame is an accusation leveled against a person for some undesirable situation (whether true or untrue). Blame implies guilt; that the person has done something wrong and should be punished for it. For example, if a thief broke into your house and stole your stuff, he is to blame for the crime.

Responsibility is an obligation for someone who has the ability to prevent some undesirable situation, or to bring about a desirable situation. Someone can only be held responsible if they have the ability to take action. For example, if a thief broke into your house and stole your stuff because you didn’t lock your door, you wouldn’t go to jail for it. You didn’t commit a crime. But you will still bear the consequences of your irresponsibility. If he is caught, you might be inconvenienced by the legal process of prosecuting him. If he isn’t caught, say goodbye to your stuff.

Another example: Terrorists are to blame for 9/11 because they bombed the towers. The US government is partly responsible for 9/11 because they created international policies that inadvertently made it easier for terrorist groups to form in the Middle East.

Another example you won’t like: Rapists are to blame for rape because they committed the rape. Victims who voluntarily put themselves in vulnerable situations are responsible for their own rape because they had the choice not to, and they did not make that choice.

II. Purpose 

The purpose of outlining responsibility is not to assign fault but to understand what actions are necessary to prevent the situation from happening (again). The alternative is to keep getting your stuff stolen, keep getting your citizens killed, keep getting raped all the time, because the world is cruel and life is unfair.

Why Women Need To Learn How To Give Themselves O’s

Alternative Titles:

• Why You Should Masturbate As Soon As Possible
• Why You Should Masturbate Every Day

1. You Will Stop Being So Irritated (With Me)  

Research has demonstrated the association between vaginal orgasm and better mental health. Some theories of psychotherapy assert a link between muscle blocks and disturbances of both character and sexual function. (Nicholas A., et. al, 2008).

Disturbances of character. Freaking DISTURBANCES of CHARACTER. Could it be that your bitchiness and inclination to gossip about other people and bite the head off anyone who looks at your boyfriend the wrong way is all because you don’t have enough orgasms? Trinity says yes.

(Note: I’ve been too often on the receiving end of gossip and jealousy from straight women, that’s why this part sounds so bitter.)

2. You Will Save Money and Eat Healthier

Instead of reaching for comfort food and making stupid purchases when you feel upset and need something to make you feel better NOW, have an orgasm TOTALLY FREE of charge and with no repercussions whatsoever.

3. Like, So Many Health Reasons, You Guys 

4. You Will Date Better People 

Having taken care of your sexual urges on your own, you’ll be much less tempted to have sex with people who aren’t right for you because your hormones won’t be screaming at you to have sex. You will be able to consider your choices with much more clarity.

Also, if you happen to meet someone who’s smoking hot, you won’t reek of desperation and insecurity because you will know that you are a sex goddess and you can make yourself come like no one can.

5. You Will Have Better Sex

It’s usually much harder for women to achieve orgasm than men, obviously. It’s sort of a complicated procedure, for most women. If you learn how to do it to yourself, then

a) you can teach your partner exactly how to do it to you and thus preclude weird, stupid guessing games where your partner feels pressured to make you orgasm, and you feel pressured to have an orgasm

b) you can accept that your vagina is one difficult customer and have sex for purely non-orgasmic pleasure

How-To to follow, maybe.

 

A Lesbian Recaps Maleficent

Maleficent is the most powerful fairy in her land. Her weakness is iron. As a young fairy, she revealed her weakness to a human boy with whom she became close. One night when they were older, he cut off her wings and stole them away while she was sleeping, and revealed her weakness to the human kingdom (the most vivid metaphor for rape / oppression of the patriarchy I’ve ever seen).

After that she built a wall of thorns around her land, defended herself, became closed off, the plausible responses when a person is betrayed.

Then she chose to take revenge on the man who betrayed her by cursing his baby daughter, you know this part.

Inexplicably, he then sends her away with some fairies who live in Maleficent’s kingdom. Inexplicably also, Maleficent starts watching over the baby she cursed, and caring for her (caught her when she fell from a cliff, sent her food when she was hungry, had her pet bird rock her cradle to help her sleep).

When the girl, Aurora, is almost of age(!!!!) Maleficent finally reveals herself in a creepy scene where she magically knocks out Aurora and brings her to a darkened clearing. Then she hides behind some shrubbery like a creepy stalker, waiting for Aurora to wake. When she does, the following convo takes place:

A: I know you’re there. Don’t be afraid.
M: I’m not afraid.
A: So come out.
M: Then you’ll be afraid.

Maleficent is dark, sexy, strong, powerful, damaged, jaded. Aurora is light, soft, sweet, innocent, young, dumb. I was terribly aroused, that goes without saying.

Obviously, Maleficent has been in love for a long time. Aurora falls in love here. “It’s so beautiful,” she gushes. “It’s everything dreamed it would be,” right before M. knocks her out again with magic knockout gas and puts her to bed, cause she’s in love and all, but children can be really annoying in their enthusiasm.

They have a bunch of sweet dates, going around the magic woods and probably having illicit sex while the camera is discreetly looking away.

at some point, M. tells A. about her trauma and loss:

M: I had wings once. They were stolen from me. They were strong. They could carry me high above the clouds, and they never faltered. Not even once.

Then on one of those dates, this happens:

A: When I’m older, I want to come and live here with you. Then we can look after each other. (“U-HAUL TIME!!!!”)

M: You don’t have to wait til you’re older. You can live here now. (“FUCK YEAH IT’S U-HAUL TIME!”)

Naturally though, there always comes that awkward moment in every lesbian relationship where it’s revealed that one put an evil curse on the other when she was a baby, as revenge on her dad whom she used to date. What a tool, I’m really sorry babe…

A. handles this discovery by running off to the palace to find her dad, who immediately locks her up while mobilizing his iron-fortified army to kill Maleficent. She falls into the curse and is laid out on a nice bed to sleep for a bit, hence the fairy tale’s name.

M. responds by looking for a prince to give her true love’s kiss and break the curse (“Maybe this life isn’t good for you babe, how about dating guys… EVEN THOUGH IT TOTALLY BREAKS MY HEART, I WANT YOU TO LIVE WITHOUT ME RATHER THAN DIE WITH ME” – oh my god the romance of it is so tremendous).

The stupid loser prince doesn’t break the curse, of course. He’s dragged away by the other fairies and Maleficent is left alone with the sleeping beauty. She stands over her and gives this touching speech:

“You stole what was left of my heart, and now I’ve lost you forever.”

That isn’t even subtext at all anymore.

Then she leans over and gives her a gentle kiss on the forehead, but of course we all know that’s only because you can’t show grown women passionately kissing young girls in Disney movies.

When Aurora (totally unexpectedly) wakes from true love’s kiss (!!!!!! !!!!!! !!!!) the camera pans away discreetly again so they can have sex.

While sneaking out to shop at Ikea for matching bathroom sets and new bedsheets, they’re caught by the army, who proceed of course to lash M. with iron from all sides. M. yells at A. to run. Luckily, she runs straight into the room where her dad had locked up Maleficent’s wings all these years, in a heavy glass cabinet.

Back in the hall, M. is near death, pinned under an iron net. Her pet-bird-turned-dragon is caught in chains.

Aurora pushes the cabinet down and it shatters, releasing the wings. (THROUGH THE LOVE OF AN INNOCENT, TRUSTING YOUNG GIRL, THE POWER OF A WOMAN IS RESTORED!!! omg.)

As the wings reattach to M.’s back, she gives a small but significant sound, partly gasp and partly moan, pushed from the depth of her belly and cast from the back of her throat – not unlike the sound I emit in orgasm, or so I like to think.

She rises up, all leather and black wings and horns and pure unadulterated Angelina Jolie sexiness and power.

From then on, the battle against the patriarchy is pretty much in the bag, seeing as how if only women would support each other instead infighting and gossiping about each other and shit, things would be much better by now.

M. names Aurora queen of her kingdom, and obviously they sex happily ever after.

but this needs to be said

“The clearest way to tell someone that you don’t want to talk to them is to not talk to them”  – tattooed on my brain

* * * *

experiencing a rather nauseating deja vu right now.

The only people I need protection from is people who are going to promise to look after me, take my time and my love and give me shit in return.

I’ve been catcalled, accosted by random guys, sexually abused – before I was 12.

Before I had even understood sex, let alone developed a sexuality.

I’ve been groped in cars by friends I trusted. I’ve been verbally abused online and through text – before I was 18.

Before I ever had sex. Before I ever took a single provocative photo. Before I ever even owned any remotely sexy clothes.

Innocence is the ultimate provocateur to predators – do you see? Since I began owning my sexuality, no one has dared touch me without my permission. No one has verbally harassed me either – that last one I’m not sure why, since a lot of people feel freer to say horrible things online, but I’m not gonna complain.

A Further Note on That Earlier Note

“Reading The Well of Loneliness was one of the things that helped me make it through the concentration camps… I wanted to live long enough to kiss a woman.” – a Polish woman after WW2

In the beginning, we would stay in for stretches of a full day and a night, having sex and stopping only to sleep and eat.

Once I woke up in the darkness to her touching me, almost inside me. And I realized that my body had started responding to her even when I wasn’t awake, not even dreaming.

Masturbation is often just a treat for myself, like junk food or a frivolous purchase – a personal indulgence. Sometimes, however, it feels like much more. It’s a huge part of how I began connecting with my own body (which has led me, among other things, to eat better, quit smoking, sleep more) and feeling more comfortable and secure with being alone.

Today reminded me of those days and nights with her, when everything was so new that the world receded to a dull background noise for both of us, and we were only vaguely aware of the passage of time. Every single moment was pure, unabated pleasure: the buildup, the intensity, the gentle descent. The quiet talks. The slow drift into deep sleep and complete rest. Wake for food. Begin again.

It was exactly the same cycle today, with myself. I fully believe that to connect with someone else, a person has to learn to connect with herself first. Not herself only, but herself first.

I was surprised, I guess, at how much pleasure and contentment I could make myself feel. I laid out food in the morning. As the hours passed, I came alone in bed again and again. After each time I’d drift off to sleep under the soft, thick comforter, not bothering to wash, like how we’d do then, happy to be covered in each other’s warmth and smell.

It isn’t this way for me all the time when I masturbate. But when it is, it’s so wonderful. I’ve mentioned before how society’s uncomfortable with nakedness – so much so that many people can’t even be naked in front of themselves, and feel love.

I’m so grateful for this.

* * * * *

unrelated? recently I passed a group of varsity athletes in their tiny tiny shorts with their long legs and strong arms and woman-swaggers and ponytails a-swing, and I had a brief vision of them somehow fucking me all at once and for some reason, I had no choice in the matter at all.