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Today’s Feminism
Saw this on Twitter this evening and got to thinking.
The topmost tweet is that one that caught my attention. I’ll quote it in case it’s difficult to read.
Most gamers seem to support equality feminism. What they reject is today’s male-bashing, propaganda-driven, female chauvinism.
#GamerGate
I read a lot of claims about “modern feminism” or “3rd wave feminism” or even “4th wave feminism” being somehow separate from “equality feminism”, but I don’t usually see much else. It’s just sort of thrown out as though it’s self-evident that mainstream feminism today has abandoned the old standard of “the radical notion that women are people” and become an excuse for male-bashing by ugly, uppity women.
Actually, I’m pretty sure people have been saying that about women’s rights movements since before “feminism” was a word.
Honestly I do have an actual point to get to, but first I have to wonder: is “male-bashing, propaganda-driven, female chauvinism” actually a thing? I mean, I’ve seen a couple of websites that describe themselves as “radical feminists” and do seem to be openly hostile towards men, but they seem to be fairly isolated and don’t attempt to, you know, actually oppress men in any way. I just haven’t seen any of this male-bashing in a position of actual influence, you see, and certainly not to the point that you could describe it as though it were the primary voice of feminism today.
But moving on, the bottommost tweet added some context, which really must be appreciated.
I always expected other liberal-minded scholars to join me in exposing 3rd wave feminist lunacy.Never happened.But now the gamers r here.
Just so we’re clear, is there some other clash between feminists and gamers, or is she actually talking about the waves of hate and abuse Anita Sarkeesian has been receiving for the heinous crime of creating a video series examining common sexist tropes in video games? You know, the shit that’s gotten so bad that blogging about the death threats she’s received is enough to bring death threats of your own down on you?
Because to be honest, I’m not really seeing that as “exposing 3rd wave feminist lunacy”. Not even a little. It really looks like pure reactionary anger to me.
Look, I’m not all-knowing. Maybe I’ve missed some vital context here.
Truth is, lately I’ve gotten lazy about checking sources & background on anything to do with feminism, because it’s always boiled down to a bunch of guys with a sense of entitlement whining. I think the turning point was a kerfluffle about a conference instituting a sexual harassment policy for the first time. The outcry wasn’t over the content or implementation of the new policy, it was that they had a sexual harassment policy at all.
Not that it’s really relevant, but from what I recall the policy itself was pretty boilerplate. Instructions to staff dealing with complaints were basically, “Document everything, and call the police if someone asks you to.”
It’s gotten increasingly difficult for me to take this sort of thing seriously since then.
Meeting Arturo
Arturo Galster was a legend in the San Francisco drag community. He passed away on Sunday the 24th of August, apparently from a head injury. SFGate and SFist have obituaries of sorts, and I’m not going to try to write anything like that. I want to talk about the image I built of him, through the people he’s left an imprint on. I won’t give any names or repeat any specific stories, partly because it would feel like publishing a page out of someone else’s diary, and also because I was a bit drunk and don’t really trust my memory. This is about feelings, not facts.
There was an informal memorial held deep in the night between Saturday and Sunday, and I was privileged to attend it, even though I never met Arturo. It was an eclectic affair even by this city’s standards; a motley collection of performers, fans, hangers on, and random passersby laughing and crying and talking beneath a tree while the city glittered around us.
Some of the people there were staying up late to be present, others had just finished working. The clothes ranged from jeans & a hoodie to five-inch stiletto heals with LEDs that blinked every step combined with a slinky black dress, fishnet top and more LEDs in the chest. As the night wore on, the wind picked up and cold began to seep into the mourners, punctuated by the almost comical attempts to keep a candle lit. A bottle of Arturo’s preferred whiskey was passed around, and stories were told and memories shared. And I began to build a picture of this person I’ll never be able to meet, assembled from the words of those who loved him.
Arturo was kind without necessarily being nice. He noticed people working with him and made a point of greeting them, even if they were the lowliest ticket collector. His philosophy was that you should not ask for what you need, but demand it, and he taught that to young performers he worked with as well as living it for himself. Arturo was willing to advocate for the new kids to get their chance to shine. He also traveled extensively, and I’m looking forward to hearing some of those stories from his traveling companions over a drink sometime.
I know there was more to him, more than I could ever learn even if I decided to spend the rest of my life as his biographer. People are complicated, and no matter how well you think you know someone they always have hidden depths, they’re always capable of surprising you. It can be easy to simplify your impression of somebody, just as it can also be easy to fall into comfortable routines, letting habit decide your actions. I get the impression that Arturo was also a believer in working outside your comfort zone.
I did not speak when everyone was standing in a big circle telling their stories, but I knew what I would have said, so I’ll say it now.
I never met Arturo, and I never will. Listening to the stories from those who knew him I feel robbed of that chance. He wasn’t killed by age or disease, his death was entirely avoidable. To me knowing that, and hearing people speak of him, powerfully underscores our responsibility to take care of each other, and to cherish each other.
That is all I have to say, for now. Please take care of yourselves, and take care of each other.
Should I try to schedule these?
Getting started on tomorrow’s daily post, and thinking about trying to put them up more or less on a set schedule. What’s a good time to read on of my posts every day? Late night? Early morning? Noon? Or just whenever I have one ready? One idea that appeals to me is to publish them at Midnight on the International Date Line, which I think is 5 in the morning here in California.
Anyways, sound off and let me know what you think!
On dreams, recurring and otherwise.
I was having an awful time trying to come up with a topic to write about tonight. I’d like to discuss Occupy Wall Street, but I haven’t been following events closely enough to speak with any confidence and the situation is too complex to quickly study up tonight. I had an idea to read through the entire Constitution in parts and discuss it from my layman’s point of view, which I may still do if I think I can make it interesting enough, but that’d be a pretty dry subject and there’s really not enough time for that tonight. I’m positive there was something I had in mind this morning before breakfast, but by the time I was fully awake I’d forgotten and it’s stubbornly refused to come back. I was beginning to get frustrated.
Then, just as I was starting some brainless twaddle about operating systems and computer standards, this appeared in my inbox: Read the rest of this entry
Lazy Sunday
Yesterday was all action. There was swimming and painting dragons with kids, there was game night and karaoke, there was running all over town and meeting people and socializing. And now I’m sore and tired and apparently getting sick, so I’m taking it easy today and spending most of my time in this chair. Writing, chatting, surfing the ‘net, and later I’ll watch some True Blood. Just a lovely, laid-back day!
Yeah, fact is I’m bored out of my skull. If I weren’t coughing so much I’d go outside.
I’ve been trying to get myself to write some more stuff for Pictosociety, but I’m stuck with the usual trouble. Lots of vague ideas, can’t seem to stitch them together.
I’ve been sitting here watching my cursor blink for fifteen minutes now, so I guess I’ll end this here. Seems like I had a lot more to say, though.
New week, new ideas
So, it’s a new week, with a fresh quota to meet. I’ve got no great ideas for what to write for this week, so please leave suggestions or requests down in the comments. I’m also testing the Facebook settings for publicity. I think it’ll work this time. Finally, I’m going to see what happens if I click the “super awesome” checkbox. That’s about all I’ve got for this post.
So, anybody want to pull my strings and make me dance?
The Adventures of Leo Tarvi 