TMI I had my period this week and it was exactly like this
Ayaan Hirsi Ali.
How is it that my baby sister tells me about this brilliant woman, I didn’t know about her on my own? I am so disconnected from the world and the things that matter.
First of all, I don’t want to explain her. I just want you to google her.
More and more I’ve been feeling a strong investment in the issues of women affected by violence in the middle east. Women out there are constantly abused and murdered and the rationale is religion, “religious freedom!!!!!!!” And we say so little about it because we are careful, politically correct, so hasty to see ourselves as progressive and tolerant of a threatening ideology - sheerly out of white American guilt- that all the horrors the ideology comes along with are erased, we are counter-productive, we do greater violence by our passivity as people die and die and die and we pat ourselves on our backs for our accepting attitudes. Islam, is what I’m talking about. Men are throwing acid onto women’s faces and for us to let them do it is not “being respectful of another culture.” The older I get the more aware I become and the sicker I feel. These are the issues that matter. I am sick of American feminism sometimes. American feminism has devolved into total accommodation of men in the name of not seeming like stickler, no-fun second wavers. It’s devolved into a pissing context of “who is more oppressed,”“who has been silenced by the voice of which other person?” Nobody knows what they’re saying anymore. They want pictures of Lena Dunham being fat. They want to defend Beyonce. They want to weep wildly and lash out about trigger warnings to justify tears that existed long before the trigger. They want to compare and contrast their thought experiments about identities gleaned from textbooks and blogs.
What the fuck is anyone even talking about? Andrea Dworkin may have been an ugly asshole, but at least she had a consistent point of view, and a singular goal.
Feminism is no fun to anyone, anymore, in fact. Queer rhetoric has taken over as the fun new experiment in militance, a glamorous underground, a sweet release of misdirected rage at an unspecified offender, the non-binary hysteria feeling far more psychologically disordered than politically radical or even emotionally productive (not to mention misogynistic).
These movements: we’re bored, safe, often hyper-educated, very fortunate people sitting on tumblr, nursing victim complexes, vomiting verbiage. I am prepared to also indict myself in this.
We are very lucky to live in America.
I think of my problems. In a global context, my problems are miniscule.
I think about how half the time I’m white, half the time an editor that I’m writing for sees my Arabic last name, bizarrely assumes I am pro-Palestine, consistently sends me radical books to review, book I disagree with, because I am their token “Arab-American” despite my utter lack of a connection to an ethnicity I am generations removed from, and by the way, even if I did connect to it, Christian Arabs exist in hoards. Regardless of my ambiguous appearance and my name - my family is extremely American - and regardless of my distance from them, I see women who look like me suffering and dying in a region of the world I hope I will never see in person. And I’m mortified and horrified and white liberals in America are too goddamn invested in feeling good about themselves as politically tolerant to question the horrific nature of this culture.
I used to see myself as a politically apathetic person, but I think I was just a combination of stupid and depressed.
None of this means anything, probably, to anybody reading this, but I want to put it here so that I have it somewhere that among my summer resolutions is to get more involved in one of these organizations, or one like it.
I look at my life and I’m just a lucky human
(Source: crazyridesrockets)(37,475 plays)
1. Leave Leonardo DiCaprio alone for being a nerdy dancer at Coachella he just wanted to feel regular for a second and part of it
2. I discovered this musician I really like named Corinna Repp but then found out everyone else discovered her in like 2006 and also she is on Portlandia a lot
my hyper-stylish best friend has fallen asleep on the couch beside me as I sit here and internet shop, I wish she would wake up and teach me how to dress well, I wish she would advise me in detail
meaningful use of ellipses
If tumblr had existed when I was in high school…
I don’t even watch Colbert but I weirdly read like every single op-ed related to this drama and I also don’t really read op-eds that often