Noir, I’ve been finding it pathologically difficult to pull away from the discussion, honestly. I feel like, if I’m not clear enough about ((waves hands)) various things, I’m making feminism look bad, and that’s a horrible thought. It’s also punching all my “if I can just be nice enough and reasonable enough and explain enough daddy won’t hate me” buttons.
Why, gentle readers might ask, am I blurting this out in public like a silly emotional women? Because, dudes (and I’m talking to the dudes right now, darn straight), part of what makes this shit so hard is that, when you’re a woman, there’s more to it than an analytical exploration of arguments about sex and gender. The political is the personal. When somebody raises the ugly head of sex stereotypes, my logic and my reason are offended, but the rest of me is flinching back from the endless, historical and ongoing carnival of ugly, cruel things that that sort of thinking is intimately linked with in women’s experience.
Okay. Having blown any credibility I might have, I will now attempt to retire from this exchange with two points: First, I don’t represent all feminists, I only represent myself, and I’d appreciate it if Michael Vasser and his ilk never, ever, ever again uses my name as a way to shame other women into avoiding the label feminist. It’s wrongwrongwrong and cruel and you were being a truly horrid person when you did that. Second, Vladimir Slepnev and anyone who wishes to take after him can bloody well come up with a substantive critique of what I’ve said. Dismissing it as “mindfuckery” is ignorant, dismissive, and cheap.
“Top hits appear to be David Boreanaz,”
Eliezer is a Buffy fan.