Much of the film consists of realistic discussions between factions of radical feminist movements: the anti-hierarchical “Women’s Army,” who believe women should be ready to take violent action against those that threaten them, two pirate radio stations, which serve as the film’s chorus, and three intellectual white interns at a prominent socialist newspaper, who feel extreme feminist separatism is tearing the movement apart. All of these positions have been taken over and over again throughout the history of leftist politics.
“All oppressed people have a right to violence,” activist Flo Kennedy posits. “It’s like the right to pee: you’ve gotta have the right place, you’ve gotta have the right time, you’ve gotta have the appropriate situation. And believe me, this is the appropriate situation.”
[Stripping] was a crappy job. I feel really offended when people act like it was some sort of feminist statement. I don’t feel that way at all. There’s a frankenstein monster that came out of the riot grrrl scene, which has always bothered me, which is that sex work is a) eroticised, b) exoticised… .
Although I’m talking about it now, I didn’t do it for the story. I want people to know it’s a shitty job, it’s degrading and there are women there who were twice my age, paying for their kids’ tuition so that their daughters could go to gymnastics class. So fuck you, coming in and doing it for five minutes so you can write about it. It’s classist, I guess. Making fun of women who really have to do that job. Wearing a disguise.
my feminism stands in full support of “ugly” women both as conventional beauty standards prove themselves to be racist, fatphobic, time-consuming, and all around bullshitty; and insofar as women do not have to be visually appealing in order to have worth as people
If gender was performance, then there would be a way to perform that didn’t result in rape for women. But men rape housewives. Men rape butch lesbians. Men rape quiet women in dresses and lipstick. Men rape snarling punks in leather jackets and safety pins. Men rape every type of woman. There is no way for a woman to be that doesn’t risk rape. There is no way to perform that lets women escape the confines of gender because gender is not performance; it’s the designator of who can rape – us, the people called men – and who can be raped – them, the people called women. Performance has nothing to do with it.
When gender is a violent, unnatural hierarchy we are born into, the abuse of females is understood as a brutal result of a power structure that subjugates one class of people to another. When gender is an internal, subjective choice we make, the abuse of females becomes a hazard of identification, a set of circumstances implicitly welcomed by anyone who puts on a particular performance – or even an “affirmation of femininity”, in the words of a particularly noxious figure in the trans community.
Conversely, linking the massive privilege bestowed on men to an internal state erases the structural and political institutions that give power to males at the expense of females – and, shockingly, the ideology that does this is being largely pushed by males with the hopes of gaining access to female spaces, female resources, and female identities. This should be troubling to anyone who seeks to challenge actual, real male supremacy – not male-identified supremacy, not cis-male supremacy, not person-with-this-certain-set-of-feelings supremacy. Male supremacy. You know, the violence men do, to women, because we can.
The heart of gender performativity as a concept is a twin project of blaming victims and excusing perpetrators. By obscuring the brutality of our sex-caste system in a postmodern mist that privileges the internal identifications of men – the oppressors – over the material conditions of women – the oppressed – any attempt to throw the strongholds of patriarchy into focus is immediately neutralized. On queer theory, men win, women lose. What a surprise.
About twenty years ago, there were well over 100 self-described feminist bookstores in the United States. These shelves have been stocked with literature relating to a wide array of topics, including feminist history, LGBTQ issues, sexuality, abuse, community organizing, erotica, and gender and identity politics. This was not your neighborhood Barnes & Noble. However, that number has plummeted over the years, and today only around a dozen remain in North America.
While these shops used to fill a specific demand, the advent of the Internet, the Kindle and competitive pricing at major retailers has made such niche materials much more accessible.
So do we even need feminist bookstores anymore? While it’s certainly become easier to buy feminist materials elsewhere, many would argue that it is much harder to replicate the sense of community and solidarity once provided by these regional institutions.
from Bikini Kill’s “Girl Power” zine (via earlyfrost)
If someone’s calling “misandry,” you’re probably doing it right.
Feminism is the most hijacked political movement to the point where it’s not even seen as a political movement, rather it’s mistaken for some additional label to any individual’s personal identity [to validate whatever choices they want to make in their own lives].