Alright alright, you talked me into it...

Here's me and daughter at last night's Indigo Girls gig at Manchester Academy 2. I'm the one who looks older. And a bit overwhelmed...

Below are pictures that demonstrate two important things: first, the Indigo Girls are just magnificent. Second, I need a better camera.

Catherine Feeny, the support act, was fabulous. She has a strong, soaring voice and her style reminds me a little of Patty Griffin. I bought the album and suggest you check her out. One of her songs is currently featuring in the movie Running With Scissors. After Feeny came the main event. My heroes, the Indigo Girls. And yes, they were everything I expected them to be and more. Utterly amazing, pitch perfect, incredible guitar skills. I was waving my arms in the air and stamping my feet with the rest of the crowd. The playlist was fantastic, it included Last Tears, Land of Canaan, Jonas and Ezekiel, Kid Fears, Pendulum Swingers, Little Perennials and Chicken Man. I could really only have wished for Ozilline. Amy and Emily chatted with the audience, Amy fluffed her lyrics a couple of times and laughed it off, it was just such a friendly, warm, powerful evening. Standing there, holding hands with daughter, the love of my life, I was struck by the unexpected thought that my life is good.

Yesterday

I went back to church. I went for several reasons, one of which was the need to revisit the place of so many appalling and recurring nightmares. I had joined the Independent Methodists when I was a fresh-faced babe of about eight years old and I stayed through to my mid-teens. I left when I worked out that I was being scared into trying to feel emotions that I didn't understand. I left because I felt frightened. The fears and oppression that I felt there have followed me ever since, rearing up at unexpected moments, stopping me in my tracks, terrifying me. So anyway, yesterday I faced my demons and I devoured them; I am no longer in fear of that building or the people who worship within it.

It was, in truth, somewhat of an anti-climax. I had anticipated an internal battle, a panic attack, a purple breathless struggle for self-control. In fact I felt confident, tall and proud and grounded. I sniffed round the building, looking in rooms that had previously seemed large, dark and unwelcoming. I looked up at the impossibly high windows and saw just winter sunshine. No vengeful, homophobic God peering in at me. I read through some of the tracts that lay on the tables and I felt sorry that I had ever been trapped in such a miserable woman-loathing religion. I felt gloriously radical and feminist and human! And I slept like a baby last night.

Happy Monday!

I'm still hanging on to my internet connection. It dies frequently but only for moments at a time, so it's bearable for now! Anyway, this week I finally get to see the Indigo Girls live and in person! This makes me ludicrously happy and I want to share my joy. Of course I am catastrophising the whole thing: what if I can't get there on time? What if there's a bus strike/taxi strike/my legs fall off? What if they cancel? What if I get there and my tickets are lost? I could go on and on. I'm practised at it.

Anyway, back to the sharing of joy...



Have a fabulous week! Will you be able to wait for the photos? x

Oh Bitch, Why Porn?

Here's a miserable little tale: I started reading feminist blogs after I stumbled on Bitch PhD. I came across her site one day last year and I liked what I read, so I stayed. I eventually strayed into my own blogging territory and those of other radical feminists but the Bitch still offered a good place to visit occasionally. Sadly, not any more.

You may or may not know (via Twisty, thank you very much) that Bitch has taken a paying job with Suicide Girls, blogging as culture editor or some such thing. My disappointment is palpable. Really, I believe it may be felt from yards away. I feel betrayed and I don't know why. She doesn't owe me anything. We're not friends. We have only academia and feminism in common... Oh, that may be it. The feminism thing.

Suicide Girls purports to be all about "unique, strong, sexy and confident women". They "are an army of 1,318 unconventionally gorgeous pin-up girls devoted to changing your idea of what makes women beautiful. [They] are the girls you've wanted to meet all your life."

Good God Almighty! How does an intelligent woman fall for this bullshit? Look at the "girls" page. Do any of those women look unconventionally beautiful to you? Do any of them have stretch marks, mastectomy, body hair, body fat, acne or any other human feature that might be (culturally) considered imperfect? Do me a favour. These "girls" are not even afforded the courtesy of being described as women, having adult status.

Porn irreparably damages women and girls. Porn encourages rape. Porn is a tool of the patriarchy. And porn is porn, no matter how you tattoo it, pierce it, label it, dress it up in faux-feminism and try to defend it. That's all.

Happy Monday!!

I'm baaaaaaaack! Up and running but having troubles with Blogger. It's late on Monday evening and I have no time tonight to find anything joyful to show you and set you up for the week, so I will just wish you all a peaceful, powerful, radical week! I have loads to catch up on, I will work my way round to you all and thanks for sticking with me! P x

Bugger.

I have no internet access at home for the last and next few days. Hence no Happy Monday post, no delightful witty/pithy/blow-my-own-trumpet comments on the world in general and no fabby vids of bunnies for you, Spotty... I feel sad. So, can you do without me for a while? Will you still love me when I return? Will the internet fixer person get me up and running again? Oh it's all just tiny stitches in the rich tapestry that is my life. Bum.

Happy Monday!

You WILL enjoy this week. I command it. Here's a poem to start you off on the right foot:

The Year I was Harriet (by Karen Brodine)

the year I was Harriet
I could do math
and was bossy

that was third grade
and there were two Karens
so I turned into Harriet
who was my grandma
and my middle name.
chin thrust forward
I stood up in that room
and the numbers
clicked to attention
I wasn't fooled
by them anymore
their squeaks
their chalky tongues
their carrying on.
all that year, brassy,
I was wild horse, holding my own
reins loose, knees tough with scars,
taking the ground for granted.
my elbows stuck out to the sides,
my glasses gleamed with fake
diamonds and purpose.
I stuck my head under my desk
and ate grape jello raw
right out of the package,
then peered up, bloody purple.
when Mrs. English shrieked,
"oh lord what now?" I just
bared my bright teeth
in a weird, brave smile.

I am being Harriet this week. Have a great week, women!

Oh PETA, you're so right...

While I was over at Creek Running North, I came across Chris' response to a new PETA ad. I jumped in at PETA and on their ads and activism ideas I suggested that they stop using naked women to sell their politics and tried treating women with at least as much respect as they demand for animals.

And here's the reply:

Thank you for your letter sharing your thoughts about PETA’s “State of the Union Undress.” We appreciate the opportunity to address your concerns.

Sarah Harley, the star of our ad, has said “there is nothing shameful or ‘wrong’ about being naked; I believe that women—and men—should have the choice to use their own bodies as political statements.” PETA wholeheartedly agrees. In fact, the tactic is actually age old; it has been used since at least the 11th century, when Lady Godiva rode naked on a horse to protest taxes on the poor. Consider, too, that it is the societies that allow women to wear revealing clothing in which women have the most rights and the most power. Likewise, it is the societies that punish women for wearing revealing clothing in which women have the fewest rights and the least power—they are considered chattel who must do as they are told. We would also like to note that we do not feature only women in our more provocative ads; please see the following examples:

http://www.FurIsDead.com/feat-rodman2.asp
http://www.PETA.org/feat/jennaethan/
http://www.FurIsDead.com/feat-kristoff.asp


The current situation is critical for billions of animals, and because it is our duty to continue drawing attention to the plight of animals abused in the meat, clothing, experimentation, and entertainment industries, we are willing to use all legal means at our disposal in ways that will capture the public’s imagination. Because we have found that people do pay more attention to our racier actions—and we consider the public’s attention to issues that affect animals to be extremely important—this will often entail our taking our clothes off. We understand that some consider our projects that include nudity to be controversial, but if our doing so shakes people up and even shocks them into discussion about the staggering number of lives at stake, then we are successful.

We must also note that we don’t rely on nudity for the majority of our outreach, nor do we use it gratuitously; it is intended to underscore our message, whether it is “I’d rather go naked than wear fur,” to emphasize the health benefits of a vegetarian diet, or to show the vulnerability of animals in laboratories or circuses. We make a point of having something for all tastes, from the most conservative to the most radical and from the most tasteless to the most refined.

This approach has proved amazingly successful—in just this past year, for example, major retailers, including Polo Ralph Lauren, Limited Brands, Ann Taylor, and Kenneth Cole Productions, made commitments to PETA to drop the fur from their clothing lines. Welch’s agreed to stop conducting deadly animal tests. Our campaign against the atrocities at KFC continues, and we’ve taken on new challenges as well. We’ve launched campaigns against Burberry and POM Wonderful, calling on those companies to stop killing animals. Please visit http://www.PETA.org/about/victories.asp for an inspiring list of victories.

We believe that America is ready to wake up to the truth about how animals are treated. We believe that America is ready to turn away from cruelty and embrace compassion and respect for all living beings. And, because we also believe that all this country needs to get the ball rolling is a little encouragement, PETA will work harder, shout louder, push further and, if we must, get “nakeder” than ever before. Please join us by visiting http://www.PETA.org/actioncenter/ for information on what you can do for animals.

Thank you again for providing us with this opportunity to explain our position on this important topic and for all that you do to help animals.

Sincerely,

The PETA Staff

Now, if you are still awake, I should take this opportunity to admit once and for all that I really AM just a humourless, wizened, body hating radfem. I think, and have always thought that the human body should be hidden away and never mentioned or alluded to. It was remiss of me not to acknowledge that we live in a society that allows women to wear revealing clothes, therefore demonstrating that our scantily clad women have rights. I am sooooo thankful that I don't live in a (ahem) society where women are chattel. I am ashamed that I didn't understand that nudity is an "age-old" form of protest. I feel so stupid. I thank those intelligent, educated and not at all racist people at PETA for correcting me and explaining the real morality and ethics behind using a nubile, perfectly shaven, unlined, white, slender woman to draw attention to their noble campaign.

Fat, So?

I went to a Yoga class. I got my sweat pants on and bought a bottle of water, said goodbye to my family and set off for unknown territory. It was a small, established class, I have never done Yoga before, and I don't do well at new things that involve other humans. I sat in the car for a few minutes debating whether or not to just forget the whole thing and go home where I know I'm safest. Recently, when I feel myself falter in this way I know that I have to act positively and boldly, and somehow I seem able to make myself do it. So with some hundred voices shouting in my head that I'm too fat, too old, too ugly, not posh and middle class enough, too loud and mouthy, just too much loud fat woman for people to take, I walked in to my first class.

So. I was without question the largest person in the room. I was, however, not the least fit. I stretched and felt self-conscious. I pulled at my top and my pants, adjusting them so that (I thought) no flab was exposed. I attempted every pose and rested during those that were far beyond my ability. After about half an hour I was really feeling stretched and warm, my heart rate was raised and my skin was glowing. I was enjoying myself! It was only in the final ten minutes where we rested in the dark, meditating, that I realised I had become completely unself-conscious. I had been utterly unaware of my appearance, size, exposed bits etc for at least half of the class. It was a revelation. It was freeing. I left the class feeling happy and confident, I conquered my chronic shyness (which manifests itself as brashness and inappropriate comedy!) and just spoke to people. I look forward to my next class on Monday. And I know it's a cliche but I really and truly feel taller.

I Heart Twisty Faster

Here is a quote from Twisty's latest and deliciously ferocious post:

Femininity is a set of practices and behaviors (boob jobs, FGM, ‘beauty’, the ‘veil’, the flirty head-tilt, pornaliciousness, BDSM, fashion, compulsory pregnancy, marriage, et al) that are dangerous, painful, pink, or otherwise destructive; that compel female subordination; that exist only to benefit Dude Nation; that are overwhelmingly represented by ‘girly’ feminists as a ‘choice’; and that are overwhelmingly represented by godbags and other irritating conservatives as ‘natural instincts’. In fact these practices and behaviors are nothing but inviolable cultural traditions in abject compliance with which comfort, contentment, and personal fulfillment are inextricably intertwined, and from which deviation is discouraged by the threat of ingenious punishments ranging from diminished social influence, to unemployability, to ridicule, to imprisonment, to rape, to murder, to the policing of feminist blogs.

Go and read the rest of it. It burns. In a very good way.

Blog For Choice!

It's today. So here's my answer to the question: Why am I pro-choice? I'm pro-choice because I believe that every woman should have control over her own body. Every woman should be able to make informed, rational and supported choices about reproduction. And in case there was any confusion, that includes financial support in cases where abortion is decided against. No woman should feel that she does not have the resources to continue a pregnancy. No woman should feel that she cannot afford to terminate a pregnancy. No woman should be bullied into continuing a pregnancy.

I believe in women. I believe that we are to be trusted to make our own choices and decisions about whether life begins at conception and I respect the individual and her opinions. I do not accept the idea that abortion is murder, but I will try to respect the opinions of those who do. I wish the anti-choicers would afford me the same courtesy. Here's hoping!

Happy Monday!

Get your pens and pencils out, I'm pointing you at a wonderful resource for dealing with those everyday bigots... If you scroll down the menu on the left there are sections that explore power relations within families and social groups, showing why it isn't always easy (or even safe) to challenge your racist parent or sibling. Then it shows you how to do it. It's excellent.

And here's your video treat for this week: The amazing Tori Amos. Unforgettable, inimitable, wonderful. Have an astonishing and powerful week you women!

Synchronicity

I notice that this is my 100th post and I start to think about
what to blog, what to say to mark the occasion. It's not a huge number but it signifies something to me; something about confidence, having a voice, feeling real and big and unique.

I think about the number 100. I remember a time I spent every day listening very hard to a song called "100 years" by Five for Fighting. I remember that I listened to that song because I felt that it said something important about life and time, and that I had wanted to say these things to my nephew who had recently committed suicide. I think about how if I could have that child back, I would cocoon him. I would hold him tightly and make him feel fearless. I would save him.

I realise that I am wishing for something that is impossible. I accept that my love and my fierce grasp could absolutely not have saved him. I sit and listen and feel sad. I know that feeling sad is okay.

I Won!

I actually won something! That never happens to me. I won two tickets to see the Indigo Girls in Manchester in February. I am so excited that I almost can't breathe. I hope I live til Feb.! I have every Indigo Girls song ever in my collection; I totally love them. Are you envious?

Happy Monday!

Forget what you know about the police and homeland security for just a moment, and enjoy the fact that this woman made it all the way to the top of her chosen (and notoriously male-dominated) career..after having a baby at fifteen and dropping out of high school. I salute her.*

And while you're in DC, take a trip to this delightful museum and library. Apparently, it is America's first feminist library...

And then, just because I love this song, have some Melissa! Have a wonderful week, women!



*You understand that while I applaud her amazing achievement, I'm not actually raising my hand to my brow...

Abortion Watch 2007 Begins...

I'm always keeping at least one eye out for abortion jiggery pokery...Here's the latest from Oklahoma. It is a creative (and apparently not uncommon) bit of legislation that would allow Oklahoma to immediately prohibit abortion should the supreme court ever overturn Roe v Wade. Sort of misogyny-in-waiting if you like, ready to leap into action at a moment's notice. Recoil-effect woman-hating in 17 of the United States. We need to be alert.

Happy Monday!! yes, I know it's early...

but I am up to my bum cheeks in paperwork and have a five pm deadline...so I'm not touching the internets until said deadline has passed and I have turned in my work. So, because I'm kind and thoughtful and don't want you all to go without your dose of Monday wonderfulness I'm doing it now. While I eat my Sunday dinner... On the slimfast/WW front, I have a lovely story to share later this week, about how I took on the corporate giant and WON! Mwahahahahahaha. Well, I got an apology. I choose to see it as a victory of massive proportions. Have a great week, women!

The Incredible Vanishing Woman..and other tales of misogyny.

Aaaah, Weightwatchers. Haven't we all at some time dallied with the idea of joining? Some of us have gone so far as to part with money and not a little dignity and made it to an actual session. Well, I decided long ago that WW is a con. It is a tool of the patriarchy, designed to humiliate and control women by shrinking them and eventually convincing them to shrivel away to nothing at all. A bit like the "star" of the new advert for said company.

So, the new ad goes a little like this: Middle-aged,paunchy man pushes so-so baby on swing, says how happy his wife is now that she is not fat. Caption "The Husband". Ageing woman sits at dining table and says how happy her daughter is now that she is not fat. Caption "Mum". Beautician (!!) explains that waxing ex-fat woman's legs takes half the time now that woman is not fat. Can't remember caption, probably "beautician". Man and woman sit at table and man says how much better other woman looks now that she is not fat. Apologises to woman at table: "sorry love". Caption "neighbour". Viewer is then invited to tell own story by going to WW meeting, shelling out around seven quid and being shamed into eating less and feeling utterly inadequate as a human being. End of advert.

At no point does the woman in question even appear on screen! WW have done what the patriarchy has been attempting to do for centuries: they have rendered woman invisible. This once bloated, hideous crone has slimmed down so amazingly that she is no longer a physical entity! The only clues to her existence are the approving comments from her gormless husband, her mother, a beaufuckingtician and her objectifying and frankly, lecherous male neighbour,....there may even be a child passing comment in there somewhere...The whole advert is staggering under the weight of its own misogyny. It would be funny if it weren't so mind-warpingly, stomach-emptyingly vile. As yet, I do not know how I will make it through my anger and out to the other side without my brain bursting. I am going to write to WW, telling them of my horror at this appalling advert. I urge you all to do the same. And if you EVER feel tempted to join in and throw away your hard-earned money and self-esteem, remember that WW is a COMPANY. They EXIST to make money. From you. Fuckers.

I Found Library Thing!!

I know I said I would spend less and do more etc. but I can't help thinking that Library Thing's twenty five dollar lifetime membership, for which I can load up as many books as I have and am not limited to just 200, is an absolute bargain and a Necessity. If only for insurance purposes? Yes, I know that's feeble... but I'm joining. I've added a link at the bottom on the right, go and have a look and then join and pretend that you absolutely can't live without it...I am doing just that. I'm convinced. I am. Really.

Charlie, I will come along to the next meeting that you all have, I'm not so shy! Just tell me when and where...

More trans politics

I have been reading around trans lit and theory, as well as Radfem theory and responses to Transactivism. I stand by what I wrote in the previous post. I also find that there are some wonderfully well expressed answers to both Yaeli's comment and the second anon. comment on that post. So, because I can't yet do this amazing and complex topic justice, I shall point you all in the direction of a collection of folks who can:
Questioning Transgender is a website dedicated to exploring the politics of transgender. I particularly recommend the articles about identity politics and womyn-born-womyn spaces. Well, I would!

I also read an excellent essay at reSISTERance but wanted comment that Ian Harvie/Harvey identifies as FTX, that is Female born. Not MTF. I'm not sure that V was clear about that! If You read this V, and you did know, I'm sorry that I misunderstood!

So, Yaeli and anonymous, I hope you read around a little, because I find at the moment, that what I am saying about trans politics is being so much better expressed by others. I hope to learn how to do the same as I go along.

Oh alright, since none of you asked...

I have been swept along in the recent blogwars concerning MTF transgendered people. I haven't weighed in with my two penn'orth but I will now. Just here, on my own blog space I will dispense with caution and express the basics of what I feel about transgendered people and women-only space.

I support the rights of trans men and women. I use my pronouns correctly, according to the wishes of the person I am speaking to/about. Trans rights are important and should not be dismissed casually, regardless of one's understanding of gender/patriarchy/social conditioning etc. It's not as simple as arguing that gender is culturally and socially defined. However uncomfortable I am personally with the idea of MTF transgendering and the attendant RadFem theoretical problems surrounding gender and femininity/femaleness it points to, it's not yet the perfect world where gender only matters if we want it to...

Having said that, I absolutely can't feel comfortable accepting MTFs into women-only spaces. I cannot get behind the idea that excluding MTF trans people is bad for feminism. I can hope that MTFs understand and respect how women-born-women feel about this topic. I can ask for a peaceful discussion regarding the need for women-born-women spaces.

While I'm at it, I would like to clarify my stance on the Dead Men Don't Rape blog-wrangle... I support Bea's use of this dramatic and assertive title for her blog. I was stupefied by some people's response to it and did some really scientific research* of my own. I asked the men I love and trust (there are two of them) how they felt about the title and I was not surprised at the response that I got. They both were entirely unfazed by it. They were instantly able to see what the intention was and expressed interest in exploring the blog further. But these are sort of feminist men...they get it. I knew they would.

So that's my first post of 2007. I am sorry it wasn't a Happy Monday, but I really felt that I needed to be open about how I feel about these two issues.


* i.e. not at all scientific and a bit crappy really.

New Year, New Woman?

No, I'm not considering subscribing to that awful "women's interest" mag... rather, I am hoping to bring in my new year with some hope for a happier, healthier me. I'm talking mainly mental health really. I would like this to be the year that I finally accept who I am and how my mind works. I would like this to be the year where I get comfy with my mental health and/or lack thereof. I will never be one hundred per cent well and I know it, but this year I aim to embrace the occasional insanity and make it work for me!

Taking a leaf out of the Divine Ms Jared's book, I will be casting out all that shitty shit that has accumulated over the years in my small house. I will give away what I really don't need and I will try not buy anything that isn't essential. I have a habit of treating myself with little gifts of a book, or music when I feel down. Well, this year I am going to aim to treat myself nicely by doing other things. I am going to spend less on crap and more on charity. I'm going to learn to use my resources well. If I need new clothes I will buy second-hand or sweatshop-free online.

I am going to work on my feminist theory. Over this year I will become more familiar with RadFem blogs and books and thus be better able to express my love of Rad Feminism. I will Radicalize my speech and thoughts. I feel excited by my plans. I feel motivated. Join me?

Spotted Elephant's New and Better Prize!

Spotty, you get this prize just for being so Bumbliciously lovely and an all round great Rad Feminist. Enjoy!




Bonus prize for being nice to know:

Arrested!!!

They have someone! A man. It may or may not be the right man, but it seems like a good start.

Now, how long before the armchair psychologists and general misogynist media spewers start blaming his mother for his behaviour? Anyone want to place a bet? I reckon by nine PM my time (GMT) there will be something, somewhere that points the finger of blame at a woman. There's BOUND to be a humiliating experience with at least one woman in his past:

A bad time with a shrew of a girlfriend who mocked his (lack of) manhood... A particularly aggressive schoolmistress who shamed him in class...A drunken and unloved mother who took out her frustrations on her son...A woman friend who said no to his sexual advances...

Because, you know, it can't just be that he hates women. It couldn't be society in general that fosters hatred of and violence towards women. It must somehow be our own fault. We ask for it. We provoke and exacerbate it. How could he be expected to turn out any different?

I feel sorry for him already.


UPDATE: A second man has been arrested. A 48 year old man with no apparent connection to the first suspect. Fingers crossed that the police have got their men.

Happy Monday!!

I thought long and hard about this, whether it was appropriate to post a Happy Monday this week. I think it is.

I think that given the appalling news from Ipswich, it is important to remember that women can have enormous power.
We resist.
We fight back.
We stand in solidarity with our threatened sisters and we remember with love and dignity those who have been taken from us.
This makes me unreservedly happy.
I hope you feel it too.

Not Prostitutes

Not prostitutes. Not girls.* Not asking for it. Not deserving of it. Not dirty. Not addicts. Not weak. Not stupid. Not delicate. Not rough. Not disposable. Not unloved. Just women. Just human.






* On last night's Sky breaking news report, Ipswich MP Chris Mole and the Sky correspondent repeatedly referred to these murdered women as "girls". In these circumstances, this word is not appropriate, nor is it respectful.

Abortion in Ohio

Ohio has passed a bill preventing access to public funds for abortion. The poorest of Ohio's women will be affected by this decision. I quote from Feminist Daily News: "House Minority Leader Joyce Beatty (Democrat) decried the bill for cutting off funds to clinics that, in addition to providing abortions or abortion referrals, also provide treatment for sexually transmitted infections and other reproductive health care" Well, Duh.

It should be obvious even to hardened Radfems like me that if the government can restrict access to public funds for abortion for the women most likely to desperately need it, they don't really care overly-much about treating and preventing STIs within this same social group. It's all about the control and the humiliation of women, folks!

Quote continues: "Beatty also criticized the bill for not allowing exceptions for poor women seeking abortions for mental or physical health reasons. "If a woman's pregnancy is a threat to a woman’s mental health, she is out of luck....If a woman’s pregnancy is a threat to her physical health, and would even leave her disabled, that is too bad. This bill shows no mercy for women in any kind of desperate situation." Again, I have to ask, did you really expect anything different? Is there ever likely to be any room for negotiation within a bill that wants to deny medical care to financially and politically powerless women? The answer is a resounding No, and here's why: Exceptions for any reason leave potentially exploitable loopholes and the women-hating, anti-choicers who drafted this bill know that. Exceptions lead to opportunities, opportunities lead to choice and choice often leads to power. And for now, that power is the single thing that the anti-choicers most wish to deny the impoverished women of Ohio.

The anti-choicers have clear goals: to control and humiliate, to neglect and weaken. It's tactical warfare against women and we need to fight back hard.

Happy Monday!!

You can mock my Radfem joy but you can't stem it!

This is fabulous news, and about time too.


This kind of honest, delightful video clip just makes me excited to be pro-choice, pro-abortion, pro-woman:



That's your lot for today women, now let's do it to them before they do it to us...
(shameless Hill Street Blues reference.)

Salfordian to the End...

I love love love my city. I enjoy the life, the people and the landscape. Salford has an amazing history, a thriving and valiant community, and a burgeoning sense of cultural pride. We are absolutely amazing. I am so all-consumingly proud to be a Salfordian that I have long thought of changing my name to Pippa Salford. I won't, because that would be excessive. But I think about it...

Anway, this campaign garnered huge response from my fellow Salfordians, desperate to keep at least one maternity unit in our great city. Our city that has been growing and developing for over a thousand years. A city older and with more cultural resonance than her showy neighbour, Manchester. A city that provided a free public library and museum before anywhere else in Britain. A city with 216,000 residents. A great city. My city. And, because the "Hands Off Hope" campaign failed to influence the almighty Joint Committee of Primary Care Trusts, a city soon to be without a maternity unit or neo-natal services.

I was born at Eccles and Patricroft Hospital in 1971, a year before that unit was closed and all of Salford's maternity care was moved to Hope. (There's a pattern here.) I gave birth at Hope hospital in 1988 when I was sixteen and scared. It was a safe and caring place and I got amazing support from the midwifery team.

Today, like many other Salford women I am heartbroken, but still ready to fight for what I believe in. Because that's what Salfordians do best.

I Should Think So....

This ought to have been a no-brainer, surely? But how great that logic eventually prevailed. To my mind, he should have been immediately incarcerated the moment he selected the laughable moniker "Atomic Dog".

Mohammed Halim

I don't mention men much here; I think of this blog as a woman space. But today I feel that we should think about, celebrate and remember this human. (WARNING: THIS LINK CONTAINS A DETAILED DESCRIPTION OF TORTURE)

Happy Monday!!

Monday rolls around so fast at the moment. I have so much work to do, so many words to write on feminist standpoint epistemologies...! However, I want to make time to do this Happy Monday thing. I think it's hugely important to try and remember Feminist joyfulness and agency. It's too easy to feel down and overwhelmed by the patriarchy; we need to tap into our sources of power and let delight and rage flood out of us, into the surrounding air...

Get some inspiration here!

Then have three minutes to watch this and feel fabulous! Happy Monday! Let's kick this week's ass...

Happy Monday!!

Three things for you contemplate today:

First and foremost, read and enjoy and identify completely with Audre Lorde's poem Portrait from her collection The Black Unicorn:

Strong women
know the taste
of their own hatred
I must always be
building nests
in a windy place
I want the safety of oblique numbers
that do not include me
a beautiful woman
with ugly moments
secret and patient
as the amused and ponderous elephants
catering to Hannibal's ambition
as they swayed on their own way
home.


Then with woman and power and patience on your mind, go to http://laurietobyedison.com/index.asp and revel in her stunning photos of sizeable, touchable, space-claiming women. Good God Almighty these photos make me feel valued and energised and just sooooo happy to be a big, generous radfem woman.


Then get your party hats on and get ready for Wednesday the 29th of November... this radfem turns 35 on that day! Older and wiser and wrinklier, Yay! Aging turns me on.

Enjoy your week, and whatever shit gets thrown your way, fling it back.

More Abortion Jiggery Pokery...

I see that I'm a bit behind on this gem of a news article but Oh, this can't be good.

Will someone please explain to me HOW these inane decisions go unchallenged? I see that this appointment did not require congressional confirmation (the WHY of that escapes me), so Bush gets to go ahead and put anti-choice, godbag-wingnut Eric Keroack in charge of all the cash for 4,600 family planning clinics across the US. Good call. Except that Keroack thinks contraception ought to be redundant. He thinks that abstinence is super-cool!! And you know what else he thinks? Yes, that's right:

the "crass commercialization and distribution" of contraception is "demeaning to women, degrading of human sexuality and adverse to human health and happiness...

and

promiscuous women will not be able to form long-lasting relationships because they have used up all of their "bonding" hormone on casual sex...

Call me cynical but I'm sensing a potential problem here. Read the whole article and then donate anything you can afford to your local pro-contraception, pro-abortion women's group. This is getting to be the thin end of the wedge.

Happy Monday!!

Before you do anything else today, go here http://www.cherylrainfield.com/ and choose an affirmation to whisper, sing, shout out loud all day! Send an affirmation to a woman you care for.

If you have some time, go here http://www.marlysmagazine.com/ and starting on the home page, scroll down to "Past Strips" and get stuck in. These small strips are amazing; I particularly like Imaginary Friend, My Reflection and Tell Her No. If you don't have time, bookmark and return when you do!

And finally, because YouTube is just too easy to use and sooooo goooood, here's a song to get your toes a tappin'. Have a great week y'all!

Spot the Deliberate Mistake: Anti-abortion Feminists Have a Website

To be filed under the "oh my god what fresh bollocks is this?" section:

http://www.feministsforlife.org/

Have a good look round, spot all the glaring inconsistencies (the utter repudiation and dismissal of women's personal choice and autonomous thinking for one) then add to your list of Internet Misogynists...

Yes, Patricia Heaton, women experiencing unplanned pregnancy deserve to experience unplanned joy. However, it is offensive and presumptuous for you to decide that said joy comes solely in the form of a successful confinement. Is it really so hard for you and your ilk to understand that women deserve to make choices about childbirth? Feminists for Life, my fat freckled arse.

Happy Monday!!

I said I would, so here's some things to enjoy, appreciate or just not be too sad about.

First and foremost: Alyx is back! It's lovely to have a new post Alyx, I miss you.

Second: Here's my boy!!
Isn't he adorable? And old. And yes, that's my hand and leg in the second pic.

Third: because these children just make my day every time I see this video...




Have a wonderful week, women. Remember that even when it all seems shitty and futile, there are some amazing things happening. I'll find them... I really will...

Woohoo, It's Monday!!

My new "thing" is going to be Happy Monday Blogging. Each and every Monday (unless I forget and/or it gets old) I shall be finding something special, something fun, something happy or something positive and empowering to share with you all. (Yes, all six of you.) Here's today's entry, enjoy and have a great week!

Something Complicated...

As a pro-choice, pro-abortion radical feminist, I spend some considerable time in any given week thinking about abortion. I contemplate the possibility that one day, in the UK, abortion may not be legal. It's already difficult to come by, too expensive for most women and still has an air of irresponsibility attached to it. I consider the multiple arguments put forward by the anti-choicers: the "right to life", a foetus feels pain, abortion hurts women, and on... I am never convinced by these people and rarely find their arguments intelligent or even well thought out.

Then I think about the various processes of abortion. It's not a pleasant procedure, it's messy and difficult but statistically it's not as dangerous as childbirth. I think about the indignity of the procedure and the inappropriate questions that often accompany any consultations. I dwell on the morality of paying to make a choice to end a pregnancy. It worries me that people make a profit on these procedures.

I think about my own pregnancies. I dig about in my brain for the sense memory of my daughter scrolling around in my belly. I remember the thick clot of my second pregnancy's sudden and convenient end. There are personal and political reasons for my thinking about and understanding responses to abortion.

I am always appalled by the rhetoric and motivation of the anti-choicers; the sanctimonious placard wavers show little interest in exploring the realities of women's lives. They accuse women of heartlessness, selfishness and a callous disregard for life. In my experience this is just not true. Abortion is a huge and difficult decision to make, and in my experience women who choose abortion feel somewhat conflicted about their decision. Some women believe that their foetus is a living thing and still make the brave decision to terminate their pregnancy. Some women abort for financial or health reasons and feel terrible grief for what they feel is their lost baby. Some women have no feelings about the foetus and abortion is a relief. Every experience is different and every experience is valid. For these reasons, I believe in being careful about how I talk about termination. One woman's parasite is another woman's heartbreak.

I absolutely support every woman's decision to abort. I can not stress this enough: termination should be free, on demand and easily accessible.

I'm Listening To:

Despite Our Differences, the Indigo Girls new album! Yay!! I finally got my copy. I'm swaying to Last Tears. Buy your copy and sway with me.

This Bears Repeating...*

If a woman is drunk, don't rape her.
If a woman is walking alone at night, don't rape her.
If a woman is drugged and unconscious, don't rape her.
If a woman is wearing a short skirt, don't rape her.
If a woman is jogging in a park at 5 am, don't rape her.
If a woman looks like your ex-girlfriend you're still hung up on, don't rape her.
If a woman is asleep in her bed, don't rape her.
If a woman is asleep in your bed, don't rape her.
If a woman is doing her laundry, don't rape her.
If a woman is in a coma, don't rape her.
If a woman changes her mind in the middle of or about a particular activity, don't rape her.
If a woman has repeatedly refused a certain activity, don't rape her.
If a woman is not yet a woman, but a child, don't rape her.
If your girlfriend or wife is not in the mood, don't rape her.
If your step-daughter is watching TV, don't rape her.
If you break into a house and find a woman there, don't rape her.
If your friend thinks it's okay to rape someone, tell him it's not, and that he's not your friend.
If your "friend" tells you he raped someone, report him to the police.
If your frat-brother or another guy at the party tells you there's an unconscious woman upstairs and it's your turn, don't rape her, call the police and tell the guy he's a rapist.
Tell your sons, god-sons, nephews, grandsons, sons of friends it's not okay to rape someone.
Don't tell your women friends how to be safe and avoid rape.
Don't imply that she could have avoided it if she'd only done/not done x.
Don't imply that it's in any way her fault.
Don't let silence imply agreement when someone tells you he "got some" with the drunk girl.
Don't perpetuate a culture that tells you that you have no control over or responsibility for your actions. You can, too, help yourself.

If you agree, re-post it. It's that important.


*Hat-tip to Jared and Lost Clown et al.

Speaking of Pole Dancing...

Over at Twisty's there's a post about Tesco's astonishing decision to stock the Peekaboo pole Dancing Kit. Yes, folks, you too can be sexually liberated in your own home! As if women and girls weren't already vulnerable to sexual assault by family members, now we can make them dance for money! Fantastic, empowering, liberated stuff.

I was out shopping in the centre of Bolton today when I was approached by a tall, heavy-set man who was carrying an umbrella. Now, like all good RedFems I am always on my guard against any male approach, and I must have looked a touch wary, because he said as he approached me: "Don't worry love, I'm not going to stab you. I haven't got a knife." Ah, the old "murder" gag. Can you see how he started to use humour to put me at my ease...

He then leapt into a cheeky chappy, havin' a laugh, geezer character. He followed up with "Do you like fashion, love?...We're looking for women to be pole dancers...no, not really, ha ha ha" For which read: laugh at me, I'm young, male and over-familiar. I'm hysterically funny and I might just fancy you, isn't the new mainstream sports activity of pole dancing a laugh... Oh, you get the drift.

He seemed less enthusiastic about inviting me to gyrate for him when I snarled at him that I didn't want what he was selling and then pounced on him, beat his face to a raw mess, grabbed his pathetic shrivelled balls and ripped them off and smashed the bloody remnants into his mouth and broke his teeth.

OR: I growled "that's not even funny, dick head" and walked away as he yelled after me (his enormous ego bruised) that I have no sense of humour and EVERYONE ELSE does, therefore, I am somehow defective.

Yes, people, I AM a humourless crone. Tell me something I don't know. Wanker.

How I Feel About Being A Feminist

On one of the genealogy websites that I visit, there has been a minor thread about the actions of of and reaction to English Suffragettes (I prefer the US term Suffragists, it just sounds more serious, but, well, I'm English). The general gist of this thread went along the lines of - those women had too much time on their hands- they were over-privileged women who didn't work- the women were an embarrassment to their families- and so on. It was an amazing little discussion. And then I noticed that all the contributers were women and my face just fell. How can this be?

Some days I feel tired of fighting. Tired of objecting to "EVERY SINGLE TINY INSIGNIFICANT THING"*, exhausted by my own attempts to counteract the bad things with good thoughts, positive thoughts, empowering thoughts. I get dragged into hating myself. I allow myself to be shrunk down and stepped on. In the face of overwhelming pressure to conform and be "normal" it just all gets too much.

Then I think of something peculiarly feminist, like oh, an Indigo Girls song, or labrys badges, or being a good Mum, friend, sister, human. Or Mary Daly's amazing Wickedary, the Bronte sisters, Audre Lorde's poems, the women who lived and breathed and died for women's Suffrage and I just feel amazing again. Powerful. Fleshed out and whole. I become re-excited by radical feminism and the promises of grace, agency and imagination contained within those two spiky, precious words. Today I may be knackered and burned out but tomorrow....



Watch and Enjoy!


* Quote courtesy of my always lovely, non-feminist mother!

It's About Time...

This has me so excited. It's such a giant leap forward in UK rape legislation. What shocked me was the information that only 5% of alleged rapists are convicted. I don't know why but I thought the number would be bigger. I really shouldn't be surprised. Now we have to work on convincing the general public that drunk women aren't fair game for rapists.

I wanted to blog about this amazing little story last month but it felt too raw then so I left it alone. Tonight it seems somehow appropriate.

Some twelve years ago my friend was brutally assaulted by a stranger. She was walking her dog in a field close to her home. A man grabbed her and threatened to kill her, then subjected her to an horrific sex attack. When she staggered away and called for help I went to be with her. I wasn't allowed to hold and comfort her because her clothes were evidence and I might have contaminated them. I was allowed to stand with her as she undressed and I bagged her clothes and passed them to a policeman. I remember thinking how small and shattered she was. And how humiliating for her to be naked and vulnerable in front of strangers. It was a terrible day.

This year they caught him! Twelve years later his DNA from another case gave him up. He is now serving three to six years and it isn't nearly enough but it's something. And I almost can't believe it. But it's true.

Getting on With it All...

Thanks for the lovely comments that you all left on my last post! It's been almost a week since we lost Tiger. I keep thinking I see her on the sofa, on the bed, in the garden. I trip over her in the kitchen while I'm cooking, (she used to rub around my legs and get stepped on!) and keep little bits of nice food aside for her. Then I remember. Oh.

I think we will get another cat. After Christmas we'll start looking for a suitable candidate. There is always an abundance of them just about then, because idiot people get newer, better pets as presents.

Again, thanks for all the support... I'll let you know when we are Catful again. Wish me luck!

Catless....

Yesterday we had to have our cat euthanised. At the young age of four she had developed what the vet suspected was renal failure. We cried a lot and then waited while the vet did her thing...it wasn't pleasant but it WAS kind. So, after we lost our other two last year to cancer and old age, we are now catless and quite heartbroken. I don't think we will have another. Tiger was the best kind of cat. We will miss her.

Just Testing!

Let's see if this works.... If it does, enjoy!

Yes you are in the right place!

I switched to the Beta! And it is great fun... I'll keep adding to the blogroll as I go along. No messing about with HTML anymore!

Porn. Yes, That's What I said....

So, today my Daughter comes home from college RANTING. She was absolutely furious because of a discussion in her philosophy class. The subject was pornography. Daughter explained that most of her class found porn acceptable and even desirable, men and women alike. Bulldog-like, my tenacious daughter fought her anti-porn corner only to be told by one young man that her opinions are "outdated fifties feminism"; this same man jokingly threatened to strangle her, going so far as to get up out of his seat and approach her. What humour! What fun! The irony of his behaviour was lost on him. The general consensus was that porn is acceptable because women in porn have a choice. They have agency. They are using their bodies to make a living.

I have stayed away from the subject of porn so far in my short blogging career, but today I'm having my say. Porn is NEVER okay. Porn is about male domination, aggression and ownership. Porn is about humiliation, violence and control. Women who use and participate in porn are condoning the abuse and rape of other women. Men who use, buy and celebrate porn are promoting violence against women. If you like to see women sexually degraded, whether or not you think they have been paid for their suffering, you are enjoying someone else's misery. If you think that monetary compensation is all it takes to legitimise violence and rape, you might ask yourself if it is okay to go around raping people and giving them money afterwards.

Porn apologists trot out hackneyed words like "consent" and "choice" and "sexual freedom". They accuse radical feminist women like me and Daughter of sexual dysfunction, misandry and frigidity. It seems that we just hate it that there are liberated women out there who love to have sex and enjoy earning money for doing what they love... we are simply envious hags who can't get laid. We've heard all the insults; there's no new rhetoric coming from the pro-porn brigade, the reasoning to which it clings is old and tired and sad. But it is becoming obvious to me that there are new, if unintelligent and inarticulate recruits in the pornography army. My Daughter reports that she and a friend were the only people in her class of fourteen who were anti-porn. What is to be done?

As If Things Weren't Bad Enough...

This beggars belief. The treatment of this woman is nothing short of disgusting. CodePink has some information as well as other excellent anti-war resources. Here is Suzanne Swift's own site. Please visit and offer support!

(On the diabetes front, I am feeling really well and healthy at the moment. I'll post on that later this weekend.)

About How I get a Bit Pissed Off...

I went for all my extra blood tests last week, for liver function, fasting lipids, blood sugar, and about four other things that mean nothing to me. Everything came back normal. Well within healthy limits. I was jumping for joy! Woo hoo!! The doctor was wrong! Yes, I can get on with my life, I can get out of this awful feeling of dread and depression. I can run away from diabetes and daily testing and exchange diets. I am capital letters two exclamation points FREE!! Except I'm not.

It turns out that a fasting blood sugar test is meaningless. I'll say it again and highlight it: meaningless. The results count for nothing. I have to go for more tests that will "catch" the lurking, reluctant to show diabetes. Now, my point is not "why bother having a test that is meaningless?"(although that would seem to be a question worth asking). No, my point is, why don't I know about all this? How can it be that no-one has explained this to me? I feel pissed off and let down again.

Positive sides: I have bought a book, "Diabetes: The First Year" and I will familiarise myself with all of its contents. I have been eating really well since the initial diagnosis. I am getting used to the masses of veg and no chocolate!! My almost continual headaches have all but disappeared and my skin looks better than ever. I am still very conflicted about dieting and fat acceptance but for me this feels like the right way to go for now. I feel in control. I think that has to be sufficient for the time being...

BTW Many thanks to all who have sent support, I appreciate it more than you can imagine. xx

Pippa's Big Fat Dilemma...

I am so conflicted about this whole healthy eating thing. I know that I have to do it for my health, I have to try and cut down my risk of stroke, heart attack etc. But I am a compulsive eater. I have been trying for years to get to a place of comfort and safety where food is concerned. I have been learning to love my body as it is, which meant accepting my fat and my weight. Now everything I have learned has been thrown right back at me. It is NOT okay to be me. Being me is dangerous.

I loathe the idea of Weight Watchers, Slimming World, Slim Fast etc. I absolutely can not agree with the philosophy behind any of them. But where do I go for help now? Where do I turn for advice on losing weight without it becoming an exercise in body fascism? How do I reconcile my need to be smaller and healthier with my fat woman politics?

I am struggling today; all I want to do is find refuge in the foods that I love. Suddenly, frighteningly, it isn't a safe option.

Pippa Feels Somewhat Despondent

How is THIS even possible in this day and age? How can we still be fighting to control our own bodies? Third party notarization? This is the thin end of the wedge and I am terrified of the implications that this has for Texas' women.

(Just so you know, I switched to Blogger Beta and for some reason your comments are getting eaten alive! Yes, ALIVE I tell you! I'm sorry about this and I will try to fix it. Not least because it looks like nobody is reading my incredibly incisive and intelligent writings. Sniff.)

meme!

Why are they called that then? Here's my contribution...

Why Do You Blog?

Because it's a bit like having a therapy session. I get to moan or just say things that aren't relevant to anyone but me. It's my space.

How Long Have You Been Blogging?

About four months. A baby blog, mine is!

Self-Portrait.





Why Do Readers Read Your Blog?

I have no idea. I like to think that they can connect with me a little bit. I would love to feel that some things that I say can be supportive to other radfems. I tend to shy away from saying more radical stuff, I'm not too confident yet! I'll get there...

What Was The Last Search Phrase That Someone Used to Get to Your Site?

"breasts pointing south". Yes. Well. You couldn't make it up.

Which of Your Entries Unjustly Gets Too Little Attention?

My Stop smoking advice post!! I want to spread the word. I am aware that I too often evangelise about smoke free living. And Pies.

Your Current Favourite Blog?

Oh sinister girl. Ms. Jared is always my first port of call in the morning! I'm such a suck up...

What Blog Did You Read Most Recently?

see above answer.

Which Feeds Do You Subscribe to?

None. But I intend to. I waste entirely too much time chasing up new posts that aren't there and then I miss all the best ones!

What Four Blogs Are You Tagging With this Meme and Why?

Kevin
Edith
Laura
Jake

These people interest me. None of them takes any guff! I aspire to that attitude. Thanks Jared for tagging me! xx

Ms Jared makes my day!!

Oh I've been so down these last few days. Just laying about feeling a bit scared and a bit out of control. I thought I was okay but I'm not, and allowing that to just be the truth is going to have to be the biggest effort I make for the time being. I'm not working, I'm not taking good care of myself, I hurt all over, you know the score... I haven't even managed to read all my favourite blogs.

Tonight I felt a big moment coming. A moment of complete chaos in my head, where I lose all rational thought and just panic. I felt it start to surge up and I CHOSE to turn it away. (Note very important capitalization of word!! I made a choice! I didn't get swept away by my feelings! Yay!) I came to my computer and looked for some friends and some comfort. And good gracious if I didn't find all that I needed on Ms Jared's blog!!! I had some catching up to do and I started with that delightful photo of a blond Ms J. She's going back to school. Go Jared! I moved on to her latest meme, and she tagged me!!! My second ever tag. I feel honoured. I'll get right on it. Thirdly I fell into the post about appreciating ourselves and how great we are. Bright Eyes singing "first day of my life" really made me feel good. I feel rejuvenated. Thanks Ms. Jared.

What's in a Name?

One of my hobbies is genealogy. I spend a lot of time trying to trace my family tree and I can get quite obsessive about it. As a consequence, one of the things that I think about often is the way that women disappear into history because very often we don't have and keep our own names.

I married in 1988 and lost my name. It didn't occur to me that I could keep the name I had been given at birth. It certainly didn't occur to me that my birth name obscured the existence of hundreds of women in my ancestry. When I took my degree I reverted to using my original surname. I wanted my degree to have MY name on it and not the name of my father-in-law and that family who wanted to so wholly own and control me.

Now I am ready to find another name. I have reached such a point in my feminist journey that it no longer seems acceptable to have this name that has been passed down through the male line, laying waste to the sacrifice, hardship and determination of so many women who go on to be forgotten or unidentifiable. But how do I make this enormous choice? I would love to hear your suggestions!

I've Been Away

And now I'm back! I had a fast depressive slump; it crept up on me and caught me. The GREAT news though, is that I was able to work through it on my own and I'm on the way up in record time. Yay me! It's my first crisis since I finished therapy and I was really caught out by it. I drew on my coping strategies and even though I'm not 100% I feel that I can manage my anxiety. I don't expect things will always go this well, but it's promising isn't it?

Dawn French. Again.

It was part two of "Girls Who Do: Comedy" last night. French asked if women comics found that their humour attracted boys. Does being funny act as a man-magnet? Or instant man repellent? (Form an orderly queue, people. When I've perfected the formula, I'll bottle it and start selling.)

I was worried about the way that French really seemed convinced that ALL women are trying to catch a man; we're not ALL straight. But then she changed her pronouns when she interviewed Sandra Bernhard and I wondered if she had tailored all her questions to fit what she already knew about the sexuality of each interviewee. I'd be interested to know the answer to that.

That aside, I actually found it very important to understand what happened when women were funny in mixed company. One or two women were explicit about the way that men found their humour threatening. Funny women are powerful because they can destroy the male ego. Funny women are intelligent and can expose men's frailties.

On the other hand, French explained that she had learned from an early age that if she wanted to "get snogged" at the end of an evening she had to let the boy have the biggest laugh; she couldn't take all the applause for herself. It seemed that if you kept a lid on it, being funny could actually get you some action. For most of the women interviewed, it seemed to be about "beauty". It boiled down to the idea that pretty girls don't need to be funny.

Here's the thing: if you have classic good looks than you don't need to be able to make people like you by being funny. This got clearer and more unfunny as Jenny Eclair recounted the tale of her miracle perm. Sometime in her teens, she had her hair permed and suddenly became very pretty and recognised that she didn't need to settle for the role of comedian anymore. Ruby Wax talked about being ugly and funny. Meera Syal was a big fat girl with a facial "twitch". How depressing to find that even these amazing, talented, powerful women are still stuck defining themselves by their appearance.

I remain delighted by the programme. The credits rolled and I felt an adrenaline rush from just listening to these honest, flawed conversations about women and comedy and life and power and all the attendant worries. I feel like I am in the conversation; I am included. I feel empowered by this kind of television. Even when what is being said drives me mental, I'm loving the saying of it.

Thanks.

To those of you who left condolences, comments, e-mails or otherwise.

Two Years Ago

our family lost someone. He was suffering and we didn't know it. He took his own life in the morning of 16th August.

What suicide does to those left behind is indescribable. If you or anyone you know is feeling suicidal, ask for help. Grab someone, anyone, and tell them that you don't feel safe. Demand help.

In the US you can look here. In the UK you can look here.

Remember how much you are loved.

Funny Women

Who saw Dawn French on The BBC t'other night interviewing all those amazing female comics? It was a marvellous show called Girls Who Do Comedy ( and yes, the "girls" bit pissed me off). It lasted a scant thirty minutes but was so uplifting and wicked and juicy that it could have run for hours and still entranced me.

There were little snippets of life story from each woman, talking about how comedy informed her childhood, framed her existence, made her who she is. It was both hilarious and poignant. The comics included Phyllis Diller, Victoria Wood, Sandra Bernhard, Rita Rudner, Catherine Tate, Linda Smith, Gina Yashere and (the utterly superb and vastly underrated)Mo Gaffney. If it gets repeated, watch it. (And I just googled it and found that it is a )THREE PART SERIES!! Woohoo!)

I'm Quite Impressed

With THIS. I am a bit of an SVU fan; I adore Mariska Hargitay's character Olivia Benson. My daughter and I have loved the show since it started, probably because Olivia is so powerful, (and powerful women are so unusual in TV these days) and she gets to kick ass! As feminist role models for young women go, she's not too shabby.

I was even more impressed when I looked at her website Mariska.com and found the link to Joyful Heart Organisation. It's probably not for everyone; it doesn't come across as radical, but it feels SAFE.

I like it. I like the intention behind it. It's working for me at this moment and I intend to hang around there for a while.

I've Been Tagged!

Woohoo!! Spotted Elephant picked me. I NEVER get picked for anything, so thanks!

On the other hand, this is really HARD.

1. One book that changed your life?

I credit Alice Walker's The Color Purple with my finding feminism. At 16 years old I was at home with a new baby and no idea of where my life was going to go. I was really scared and not very well. I had PPD and didn't know it. Reading The Color Purple showed me new possibilities. It showed me how to be strong in the face of oppression and violence. I looked for other feminist books because I wanted more of the same thing. That book started me on a journey to where I am today and I am grateful for that. I met Alice Walker many years later, when she came to Manchester on a book tour. I queued to see her and when I got to the head of the line I felt faint and dizzy. I mumbled "Thankyou" and she smiled and said "yes". She took my breath away.

2. One book you have read more than once?

Well that has to be Anne of Green Gables. I read it and read it and read it. It is a cure for EVERY ill and misery that I have. Since I was old enough to read it I have longed to go to PEI. I made it in 1999 and again in 2001. Just to see where L M Montgomery lived was amazing. I even brave flying to get there! I have moved on to Montgomery's journals now and they fill me with love and sadness. She too had serious depression and anxiety, and I somehow knew this about her all along.

3. One book you would want on a desert island?

The Worst Journey in the World by Apsley Cherry-Garrard. I don't think its in print anymore. Its an account of Scott's doomed Terra Nova expedition as told by one of the team members. It is a dreadful, sad story and it would make me feel a bit better while I waited to be rescued. No island could be THAT bad!

4. One book that made you laugh?

Strange Heaven by Lynn Coady. I hooted at several points when I read this and it remains on of my favourites when I need a pick-me-up. Here's a bit:

"What Stinks?"
"Nothing Stinks Mumma." Albert, gentle.
"Is that Bridey C?"
"yes."
"Then she's what stinks."
Mumma, is that nice?"
Margaret P would look on in honest wonder. "I'm not saying it to be nice, Albert. Can't you smell it? Something needs to be done."

Genius.

5. One book that made you cry?

Gaining Ground by Joan Barfoot. The story of a woman who leaves her husband and children after realising that they are just not what she really wanted. Living with them is killing her and she uproots herself and goes away to a small cottage in the country. She learns to do without and becomes self-sufficient and content until one day her daughter comes looking for her, needing answers. It is just wonderful and I sob every time I read it. Don't let that put you off! read it and be inspired!

6. One book you wish had been written?

A Directory of Feminist and Women Friendly Businesses. I want a plumber that won't disparage me and a bank that lends money exclusively to women who need to start their own businesses and a doctor who doesn't judge and a mechanic with a vagina and a chocolate shop with free sweets for fat radical feminists. So there.

7. One book you wish had never been written?

Bridget sodding Jones' Diary. What a heap of shit. And all my non-feminist acquaintances and relatives think I'll LOVE IT!! "Because you like women's lib stuff right? Well this is great!" No. It isn't.

8. One book you are currently reading?

Woman Hollering Creek by Sandra Cisneros. Short story collection by one of my favourite writers. One of the stories is called "My Lucy Friend Who Smells Like Corn" How could anyone resist that? Get all of her books and read them. Yum.

9. One book you have been meaning to read?

Those Bones Are Not My Child by Toni Cade Bambara. This is a sad little tale but I'll share it. I bought this book two years ago to read when I was on holiday. The day after I arrived, my 18 year old nephew hanged himself, so I came home. I still can't bring myself to touch the book. I will one day. I hope.

10. Now tag five people!!

I tag:

Yawning Lion at Feh-Muh-Nist
Ms Jared at Sinister Girl (and Ms Jared's Mum!)
Pippi at Villa Villekulla
Alyx at Mad Sheila Musings

Mel gets a bit cross and says some unpleasant things...

Like other feminists, I'm really angry that he isn't begging for help, forgiveness and understanding from women as well as the Jewish community. After all, he did have a go at displaying his misogynistic tendencies. Bitch? Sugar Tits?! Is that the best he could come up with? I mean, I know he was (allegedly) ludicrously drunk and getting cross about being arrested for driving while (allegedly) intoxicated (yes, VERY clever) but really. If you are going to be a woman-hating dick head at least try and do it well. It seems almost cruel to berate him for such a feeble effort, but I will.

What a revolting, self-righteous, offensive, bigoted, cowardly specimen. Ooh! I enjoyed that.

Oh Dear.

That's the title of my new section in the sidebar. There you can find links to all things ludicrous, offensive, ill thought out, anti-woman, anti-choice or just plain sorry. I'll give it a trial and add to it as I find fodder. If it causes offence or seems just plain pointless then I'll remove it.

My theory is "know your enemy".

Streptocarpus!!

I grew these from cuttings. Aren't they fabulous! (If i do say so myself!)

Sufficient Scruples Has a Post

today about abortion and choice. Go there immediately and enjoy! It's brilliant.

(note: you should be looking for the post entitled "Fetuses: The Moral Equivalent of ...Everything")

I Have a Confession To Make

I bang on a bit about fitness, I know. I like my sport and I like to get sweaty and this week I decided that I would like to get myself a bike. But you know what? I absolutely could not bring myself to go to any bike shop and try them out. Because I'm fat. And after all my preaching about fat acceptance and loving myself and feeling unashamed of my size... I am a fraud.

I pictured the (in my mind they are always male) shop assistant telling me that they don't do bikes strong enough for my massive frame. I envisaged sitting on a bike only for it to crumple underneath me as though made of tinfoil. I became overwhelmed by the image of me thrashing about on my back like an upturned turtle, unable to get myself to my feet after crushing the bike. Why am I feeling like this? What has happened to me? How can I be so frightened and humiliated by something that hasn't even happened? I am so mad at my overactive, body fascist influenced imagination that all I can do is comfort eat and scowl at myself in the mirror.

I once had a nasty experience in a sports shop when I went to buy a swimming costume as a gift for one of my slender friends. I asked a (male) shop assistant if they had any swim suits and where they were. He looked at me and said, "we have them but they won't fit YOU." This was before my feminism had kicked in, so I withered inside but smiled at him and said, "Oh, I have one for me, this is for someone else", and bought the costume. I felt so crushed.

Perhaps that's where all this new stuff is coming from? Whatever. I intend to go and try out a bike this week if only to rid myself of these stupid, offensive, hurtful thoughts.

I Am So Hot

And not in the good way...It is 30 degrees c in my bedroom this morning.

Witchy pointed out that the ads on my blog point to cosmetic dentistry thanks to my last entry. The mind boggles. I apologise. let's see what happens if I type "free, safe, legal abortion". I hold my breath...

Man Mistakenly Identified As Moron...

You probably all read about that anti-choice doughnut Pete over at "March Together for Life" and his colossal error in mistaking a satirical article at The Onion for truth and then blogging about it? It was truly humbling to see such arsery expressed so boldly. Anyway, he got thousands of comments, cruelly pointing out his moronic status (they have been deleted now so don't bother) and suggesting he try harder. It was wonderful.

Then it got better. He tried to respond to the comments with a new post about how he had a) "turned the satire back onto The Onion" and b) made the original mistake because he meets women who think like this all the time and therefore was really not a clown of the first order. This again rightly elicited more comments of the "you buffoon" type. Pick one excuse or the other, surely Pete?

Now, bless him, Pete claims that "My article was a joke, which obviously thousands of you didn't get, all the while accusing me of being the stupidest person on the planet".

You see, what most of us missed is that Pete is actually cleverer than everyone else, not more stupid. I get it now. I feel so foolish...

My Dentist Does Botox

I had my checkup on Thursday. Amazingly, my teeth are fine. While I sat in the waiting room I read and re-read the posters that advertise teeth whitening (Can't afford it) and smile perfecting (don't want it) and Botox/Fillers for my face (not even dreaming about it!). I was stunned. The before and after shots on the posters were all of women (now there's a surprise). I was concerned and not a little offended.

During my appointment I asked my lovely dentist what was going on? She told me that fillers are VERY popular, they do many each week. (I stupidly failed to ask what constitutes "many", sorry.) In particular they get women who smoke wanting the lines around the mouth smoothed out. How can this be? I was under the impression that my dentist was a health care provider, not a beautician. I was already questioning the implications of wanting whiter teeth and a "perfect" smile, feeling that this was perhaps getting too close to body fascism for comfort. Now I am to be subjected to this anti-woman rhetoric every time I need a checkup.

My point (I think) is this: there should be some places where my body and face are just acceptable. No questions asked and no fingers pointed. I should be free to seek dental treatment without having to mentally engage with inappropriate questions about ageing and beauty. The waiting room has become just another place where women are attacked and judged because of their appearance; I am very disappointed.

Friday Morning

I feel so down today. Just thinking about Abir Hamzah, the war in Iraq, the bombings in Mumbai, Israeli action on Lebanon, kidnapped Israeli soldiers...it just goes on and on. I want to DO something more than I do now. But where to start?

Youth Work Training Evening Gets off to a Bad Start. Again.

After the male police officer had handcuffed his guinea pig, he pushed her head down and made stupid jokes about fucking and showed us how very easy it was to control the woman whose body he was using. He made jokes about dicks and length and truncheons and "tugging", he was suggestive and lewd and gross and I called him on it. I said, after some minutes where I was frightened of sounding stupid or reactionary or aggressive: "I will rip yours off if you mention dick again, there's only so much penis I can take in an evening". Then I went silent. Feeling a bit silly because people laughed and because it came out wrong and a bit "Carry on Matron", I wished I hadn't said anything. Later, I went to the guinea pig ( a feminist who I have respected and admired) and apologised for my outburst (I still often have a need to do this, but I will get over it); I explained that the copper and his omnipresent prick had triggered my rage. She patted my shoulder and told me that never mind, he's a great guy, always joking around, that's just his way. Amazingly, I felt better about the whole thing. If that's just his way then he needs to be challenged and belittled until it stops being his way. Its not fucking good enough to be always joking around, especially when that joking around looks like sexual assault.

What Not to Wear?

There is a mini debate starting to boil over in the letters section of the Independent (I know, I should stop buying it). The argument is about Muslim women who wear various forms of veil/covering dress.

There are those who are arguing against women wearing full or part burqa in Britain; they say it demeans women and oppresses them. They say that there is no place in this country for such control over women's dress and behaviour. I agree.

There are those who argue FOR the veil, jilbab, burqa etc. saying that the type of dress commands respect and makes women safer from some forms of abuse. That may well be true.

There are those that have said that the sight of a veiled woman is much less degrading to women and less offensive in general than the sight of a half-naked, drunken woman staggering the streets. This is just reactionary; I think that its too easy to put these two particular images in direct opposition, as if women are necessarily either one thing or the other, but that's another argument.

Here's what I think: I don't think it is freedom when women are routinely wearing lashings of make-up, starving themselves, shaving themselves, sticking on long false nails and pouring chemicals on their head. To me, it all amounts to much the same thing as purdah: women have to mask their real appearance before they go out in public. It is wrong to think that women in Britain have a free choice about how we dress; we might THINK that we are free to choose but we all know that we have been socially and culturally coerced into thinking about body and dress the way that we do. It's become just too easy to point to Muslim traditions and criticize, all the while feeling smug about alleged Western freedoms.

I wanted to go out to the shops today wearing my khaki shorts and a t-shirt. It took me over half an hour to decide whether or not it would be A) appropriate for a woman of my size and B) worth the harassment that goes along with it. I decided that the answer was yes in both cases. I am determined to make actual choices about my clothes. I am utterly sick of being told what to wear and how to wear it. I want to control my own appearance and identity. It's a lot to ask.

And then it just gets worse...

Heart at Women's Space/The Margins has this astonishing post about Iraqi women up today. I link to it but warn you, it will upset you. But you need to read it anyway.

Amy's Mix Came Today!!

Having taken part in the great Feminist Music Swap organised by the delectable Ms Jared at Sinister Girl, waiting for the post has become more exciting than I could imagine! So far I have had six mix CDs loaded with amazing feminist music. I have fabulous new music options! I am loving SleaterKinney, Azure Ray, Alix Olson, Dirty 3, The Donnas, Pink ( who would have thought!) Dar Williams, Vienna Teng, Judy Small and others... I am thinking of distilling all the best songs into one great big mixed mix version!

I bought the Dixie Chicks new CD too; I have an embarrasment of riches! Thanks you women!

Random Monday Thought on Being Fat

I played a couple of hours of football yesterday. I was knackered when I finished but I defy anyone not to be. On Friday evening I played several games of badminton; I'm not brilliant but I have excellent reflexes and am improving. I work up a sweat, I get up a good heart rate and I am very limber. I'm not unfit. I am, however, quite fat. I likes my chocolate! (Actually, joking aside, I have a compulsive eating disorder and have suffered with bulimia.) I don't want to be thinner; I love who I am. I have muscles and they are becoming more defined. I jiggle a bit when I run and I have stretch marks that prove my mettle. I am brave and strong and large and fat. I am absolutely gorgeous!

So, while I was nipping into my local shop yesterday to get a post-match cold drink, a young male passer-by shouted at me to "get on a diet". Here's my answer: "No. Now fuck off before I chase you down and kick your arse." And I can.

I'm Back!

I went away for a few days, so I haven't posted much. I shall be making up for lost time later today! I have also neglected to read anyone else's blog so I have loads to catch up on! I am looking forward to it!

New Feminism?

I am told that there's a conference tomorrow in London where the principal discussion will be "New Feminism". I am told that in the New Feminism women are encouraged to strip, be sexually available and even to pole dance, thereby liberating themselves from centuries of physical and sexual oppression. It is okay to wear make up, diet to the point of organ failure and have unimaginably large breast implants. It is fine to embrace traditional and cultural interpretations of femininity. It is okay to do these things because actually it all qualifies as reclamation. It turns out that women are empowered by being sexually objectified because they are CHOOSING to be objectified. They are celebrating their bodies and the sexual arousal that they provoke in men. These New Feminists are not being coerced therefore they must have agency in these situations!

Ahhhh.

And there I was, labouring under the illusion that this kind of thinking was 20th century Feminist - fearing, woman - loathing, lads' mag - type bullshit, engineered in order to fool women into staying thin, small and powerless.

This Old Feminist had been thinking that it might be great if women had complete control over their reproductive rights and could have abortion on demand, or could feel that their large or small, sagging or pointy -uppy, stretchmarked, blue-veined breasts were just fine thanks. Or could get equal pay for a good day's work and could walk home safely at any time of day or night. I thought it might be good if women could report rape without fear of being made to feel slutty or stupid or untruthful. It might be amazing and important if women didn't get raped at all. It would be nice if women's sports paid as well as men's and got the same tv coverage. It would be grand to get decent maternity rights and quite nice to see women over 7 stone on tv sometime. It might be wonderful if girl children were treated the same as boy children and not pushed into "gender appropriate" familial roles. It could be fabulous if hairy legged women were commonplace. It would be fantastic if Cunt was not a dirty word...

How did I get Feminism so wrong? Honestly, some days I feel so foolish.