Archive for the ‘Feminist belief system’ Category

Regions of the brain affected by PTSD and stress.

This is your brain on PTSD

[This happened last night actually. It takes time to reflect on such events. Read this as if it is happening, because these are my thoughts immediately after the event]

I was physically assaulted less than two hours ago and I did not report it to the police.  Is that a bad thing? I guess it depends on who engenders the dialogue…It depends on what I look like, compared to my perpetrator.

And hitting back is never an option if you are male–you just learn to take it–long after the fear of violence leaves your body, anger sets in, and then the numbness, and then the matrix of contradictions about women’s violence against men and children–and men who  were once children. Then depression.

But from my literal, lifetime of  experience, men who call the police are as likely as their perpetrator to get hauled off to jail, because violence against men is du jour, and profitable one way or the other to the police and state court systems, as well as to women’s organizations that depend on minimizing and marginalizing  this topic.

Men who break the norms, and the rules of being violated or bullied by women are a bigger threat to society than men who just shut up, and take it “like a man, “because shouldering the violence of America has always been a male burden, and always has been expected of us.

I spent over fifteen years employed in, or owning businesses, that were a cultural anthropologists dream of opportunities to observe situational violence, and served as training grounds for violent women to get away with violent crimes.

Then something kicked in: I had had enough of violence. It is a toxic poison that creeps into the center of you, and seeps out in all the wrong places.

But before I get all rhetorical, here are the facts of my assault, two hours ago:

1) I was walking home from a bar–not drunk, but buzzed enough to sleep. I like a few beers to calm recurrent PTSD, and I like to walk at late at night. But I am always prepared for violence.

2) I walked from the bar clutching a prime cut of flank steak, rare, nestled into a bed of fried yam fries. I looked forward to finishing my meal at home, over a cold one.

3) I walked one block towards home, and quickly noted the sound of loud voices. Loud voices are not uncommon at this time of night, but loud female voices, raucous, and ‘distressed’ in that way that females can get–all worked up over comments about hair or something.

4) I pulled my large canister of pepper spray out of my side pocket, and hid it in my hand, knowing full well that violent women travel in packs, and always have violent men beside them. I proceeded forwards at my green light.

Raucous womens voices late at night are very common, and almost always charged with violent or sexual energy. As a male, and trained to the sound of ‘women in distress‘ as most males are, I recognized one distinct female voice and then another–parties to the conflict, it turns out.

In my years of experience, the loudest females are usually capable of initiating the most violence,and their will to violent rhetoric is almost always a signal to actual violence to come–that violence which sucks others in.

Their vocal ranges were beyond ordinary, and obviating my caution.’

5) I proceeeded forwards, and encountered a large diverse group of males and females outside a bar. That bar, my memory told me is one that I recognized as being a former ‘hillbilly stomping ground’ or, a bar that was once predominantly full of white people

6) That bar is currently a  ‘wigger/nigger bar’ where everyone of all races calls each other nigger. “Wusup myNigga”,” Yo Nigga,” “You my nigga?” and so forth. Make of that what you will.

7) I paused ten or fifteen feet from the site of the violence, and looked at my options. People were flowing from the bar to the street. My experience has taught me that the Laden principle of street crossing does not apply for men at all, for various reasons too much to go into here, with this being one of the more extreme examples of what happens to men who disobey the rules [here]

So, engendered male, my options of walking around the violence were as good as my options walking through the violence–side note: if you have never been around violence, good for you. Stop reading here. You deserve a nice life, with your head tucked firmly up your privileged ass, and nice, fresh  clean, cloudlike white diapers every day!!

I grew up in the most extreme violence, and spent years climbing out of it, with varied success.

But I have never been so fortunate, and I have never been sheltered or or protected by any law, or entity, ever. So here is my reasoning during that moment.
a) walk around the violence–which had alreadyspread into the street, which meant waiting for a stoplight. If I immediatyely extricated myself, and walked across the street despite a contradictory stoplight, I could face police violence–which is always more scary that crowd violence.

b) walk through the violence at an opportune moment. An opportune moment is one wherein ‘friendly’ members of a mob recognize me, and my face as a face unaffiliated with that mob violence, and let me “pass”. This is a common occurence when an out-group member encounters in-group violence. ( Anthropology 101?).

c) wait till the violence passes, in which case I might become a witness to the violence, implicated in the violence, and also a further victim via police line-ups, witness statements, and other dirty cop tactics of social control/police authority–like arresting people who refuse to participate in the charade of informing the good officers what happened.

WWJD? What Would Jew Do? What do the good atheists and the good skeptics and humanists have to say?

I won’t wait long to hear that all violence is perpetrated by men, etc etc, ad nauseum.

Nor will I wait in telling you what I did: I walked gingerly through the violence as I have attempted all my life, but only after I had made eye contact and shared facial expressions with members of the crowd who seemed to be relatively detached from the violence– like rolling my eyes, and signifying that such violence is ‘NOT any business of mine’, eye to eye with what appeared to be the most sober, humored people in that crowd.

But what was that violence, you ask?  Who were the violent people in the crowd? And what was my assault? What were the dirty bits?

I will tell you: after my WWJD moment passed, and I was affirmatively nodded through the crowd by seemingly detached participant A -a white male in Wigger gear, and participant B-a mixed female in college age clothes–I walked on by in the path that cleared like a parted Red Sea…

At which point the combatants–who had been pulled apart just before my entry–re-converged.

Two tall (5’10-11″), relatively attractive mixed and or black females, who had been pushed away from each other, lunged at each other, from 10 feet away, and despite being yelled at to calm down, insisted on throwing punches over the shoulders of their referees who were trying to hold them back.

And that is where the shit got funny.

Imagine now, girl A and girl B, and Guy A:

As I passed Girl A on my right–who was being pushed out of the conflict by Guy A–she began to punch guy A in the face; at which point, he gave her a hard shove in the center of her chest and told her to knock it off. She responded with full fingernails and fists in his face, and then, backing off, said

” I’ve already called 911.”  That, in my experience, has been  what any 911 call looks like anyways–some woman who digs a shitter deep hole with her violence, and THEN calls the cops FIRST. Female bullies always call the cops when they are about to get their asses kicked for what they do. ( ANOTHER STORY)

Needless to say, I moved forwards, past her, and out of range–or so I thought.

Having passed, as I turned to look back at woman A) AND THE MAN SHE WAS PUNCHING–and  I was punched squarely in my right kidney by combatant number two, Girl B, from out of nowhere.

Like a Myriam, not turned to a pillar of salt nearly, but definitely a man who was punched with a boxers rib jab by yet another woman, I was cowed, and gasped–my kidneys are my weak point, as I have only one, and I haven’t done a boxers sit-up in years!

Then, she rushed by me, slightly looking over her shoulder in my direction, made eye contact, and then hurled forwards towards girl A.

Ouch, I thought in that moment. My bad kidney!-my only kidney,  in the shape of a horshoe by defect of birth. I have no idea why she socked me there–a complete stranger hit my weak spot!! But I am aware that any good boxer knows the sheer value of a kidney shot can take an opponent out quicker than a good hook to the jaw.

Women seem to know your weak spots, and go for them by rote. I have learned that through a lifetime of being assaulted by women, and wondered if she had a brother who might have taught her the value of that shot; I actually marveled at her punching power!

And it got even weirder–I noticed her strong long legs going up to her ass like pillars; I refelcted on the years and years of knowing women’s violence first hand, that if I worked the game and acted a victim--I could probably even use that card to work my way into the crowd, and win approval as a victim–maybe even hook up with her at some point because ‘she owed me’ something–an apology.

I watched this sort of bar violence, and bar politics for years on end, enough to know its system, and work it.

Such is the perverse nature of enduring women’s violence.Now, I had to pause, and reflect–and also salaciously admire–these two comely
warriors that I had been caught in the middle of.  I also instantly recognized the value of my life experience–the value of knowing that most people–and certainly most white women– could not be so lucky to see what I have seen about women in general, and women’s violence in particular.

But women are egregiously violent, and more so when drinking.  And white people in general–detached as they are from the primal heirarchy, and reality in general–they don’t see or acknowledge it because they refuse to look–it scares them. It is a discussion that needs tobe had.

And most white violence takes rhetorical forms, and hides itself behind police and state structures.

They employ victim narratives that disadvantage some at the expense of others–white peoples violence is systemic, inappropriately examined, and malevolently applied via social tropes, and stereotyopes that uphold social orders, even while perpetrating violence elsewhere. The white power structure is not a valid representation of reality–but it works well  as a system of social control, and as  system of capital formation and  taxation.

Put another way, that system relies on lies, rather than truths to sell itself to you.

And white peoples choices to systemically refuse to discuss violence perpetrated by women? White culture decisions to marginalize stories of womens violence? That is the grease in the gears of such as system of social control.

Wanna’ know  the main tool of controlling boys, or turning them into state sponsored homicidal maniacs?

Tell the boys “never ever hit girls.” And doubly damn the boy who would sock her back–all social mechanisms are designed to uphold this sort of female violence.

This was a painful, lunacy-worthy lesson in contradiction for me most of my life: being bullied, and battered by girls and women from infancy into adulthood. But it’s there, and it’s real. My kidney will tell you that tomorrow.

Now here’s the really, really fucked up part–the really demented part–about the specific, and differential effects of women’s violence against people in general, and men, specifically, AND ME THREE HOURS AGO, that sits in my craw: despite having been assaulted by a complete stranger; and despite a crowd of witnesses seeing it–seeing me, a mere passing stranger– being literally punched in my back! by a woman I have never known–is unthinkably wrong, unspeakably demented–and strangely, according to girl/boy politics–acceptable to my society!!

If I were to call it in as an assault against my person, there is no doubt in my mind that I would be brought into a jail, or a mental institution–because womens violence is condoned, encouraged, accepted, and validated by police culture, and society at large. Any member of team female violence would no doubt concoct some derailing minimalization of that woman’s violence against me.

And, as those things most certainly always work out, the officer on the scene–being a fem-trained dolt, woul say ” Well, I gotta bring one a yuh in, or both of yuh,” because police are trained like everyone else to conceive of women as “victums of mail viuhlince,” despite decades of studies to the contrary.

It blows my mind.

I had been “tapped” by that violent female as a potential ally, witness or partner in her crimes of violence; and by my experience, and by inference, as a potential sexual partner by my willingness to “protect her” should the police actually come, or she loses her shit too deep in some trouble she started, or chose to participate in.

Or maybe, I was merely assaulted, again.

And after a lifetime of enduring women’s villence, i know it quite well. Sounds strange, doesn’t it? Sounds like Stockholm Syndrome, or trauma based bonding, right? Learn to love women, learn to love women’s violence.

But see, it was ME, engendered male, and well aware of such a discrepancy within my culture–many men would kill to be her hero in that moment (and I have not discussed the males in this crowd at all), who wasn’t about to have any part in it.

That I had endured random female violence from her out of nowhere was a gift, so the rhetoric says–lucky me, another chance to NOT open my mouth and condone it, or open my mouth like a playa’, and discuss my sexual opportunity! A chance to be a hero!

See, the trick with female violence is that they are daring you to ask for an apology–and on that basis they decide if you are a “good man or a bad man.”

Upholders of female violence are hero’s in a fascist culture–becuz theres always bigger trouble ahead in a fascist world full of perpetual war, and perpetual victims.

Sad, but true: women’s violence against men–and men remaining complicit through silence–is what encourages further acts of violence. Violence and stress caused by violence has a cumulative effect and it begins in childhood.[ .pdf here]

Story of my life–literally. Women tapping out of the battles they get themselves into–me ‘saving them’, really, from their own violence.

My reward? Pussy in my face–if I play my cards right…but is that really a reward? I don’t think so–because I realize that every woman I cover for could well be using that violence against children–and, if so, she needs to be stopped.

I wish my father was so wise….

And women’s violence against men and children–It has to stop being taken lightly.

Sadly, I do not have it in me to do what white women have been doing for years, and getting away with: I will not call the police; I will not call my mother (she’s been dead for over a decade now); and I will not relegate that anonymous woman’s violence into the realm of imprisonable deviance–because I know, and expect, that women are, and always will be violent.

What I WILL do is open the door to discussions about women’s violence, and open my ears as well to how we can solve this cyclical, circular problem. The only thing I know for sure about four hours ago? Not one man threw a punch at anyone, while two women duked it out, and over twenty bystanders looked on.

But no one did anything but laugh at that punch to my sole kidney. Not a damn one–even me. I will wait, and listen, if anyone has suggestions.
But the simple truth is, women who abuse, abuse those furthest from having an immediate voice in their rhetoric of violence–and the least power in any situation of women’s violence–and their victims seldom prosecute.

As the threat of police coming was in the air, the crowd pulled it’s consecutive heroine’s apart, and enabled them into the safety of running automobiles, and hurried away from the scene of their crimes.

The girl who struck me, looked at me and smiled sheepishly as she was ushered past me–and then she turned, and began to yell at her co-conspirator who drove her away ” I would have killed that bitch…”

Martin Van Maele - La Grande Danse macabre des...

Moral Campaigns always have wide-legged white women at the center.

“Organized walks are usually meant to promote a charity, but that’s not the plan for a walk this weekend in the Twin Cities, James Schugel reports (2:06).”

MORE HERE: Twin Cities ‘SlutWalk’ Protests Sexual Violence Against Women.

SlutWalks, in case you haven’t heard, are a tool of police state feminism . They are controlled opposition that focuses women and girls on a war against words, rather than focusing them on a war against war.

While eradicating the world of “slut shaming” sounds like a good idea, it consumes the resource pool of dialogue to the point where this type of mis-directed sexist rhetoric effectively killed the abnti-war movement.

And none of it–none of it–will stop them from sending men–potential allies– to prison because men are framed in the dialogue as threats to the privileged white female social order. That order seeks alliance with police and state mechanisms of power, while demonizing men who do not venerate such an order. This challenges white female privilege in discussions of constructionist social intervention.

Their reply to the challenge? Sluts shouldn’t feel objectified! It appears that sexism is a two way street, and this sort of dialogue drives on both sides.

Yet prison serves only one purpose: it serves as a rapist’s training ground, and incarceration of male voices does little to end global violence against women and men of color by white people.

SLUTWALKS ARE  A DISTRACTION BY DESIGN, AS WHITE FEMALES HAVE ALWAYS BEEN THE FOCAL POINT OF CENTRALIZED WHITE POWER AND DIFFERENTIAL POLICE PROTECTION.

This march will host more angry white women than you will ever want to lay eyes on again. If you want to end rape, forever, don’t have white children–but also, don’t  leave children in the care of child molesters, and angry violators of social norms that affect children.

White women have the ugliest hearts you will ever see–and no matter how you dress up the piggy, put apples in it’s mouth, fishnets on its legs, or barbeque it, it is still pork.

Pigs of a feather, fly togetheR, when it comes to the Motherland. This version of feminism is just more of the same: white women running diversionary plays against society at large ever witnessing  the real picture of police brutality–and more feminist rapeflation, and proto-fascism in action, attacking straw men, instead of real people, institutions, and organizations that  make the wortld a less pleasant place to live.

Rainbow flag flapping in the wind with blue sk...

Who cares about ACTUAL police brutality, that kills defames,and rapes actual people, when words are so mean hurtful, and harmful!--and way easier to get all worked up about!

But isn’t it a bit early for Halloween? Oh, that’s right: Modern feminism is really clown feminism anyways. And EVERY day is Halloween for a clown!! Yaaaayyyy, time to play dress up, says Mommy Dearest

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Sluts Need Money–only you can fill the sick, hungry, starving vaginas of the world–with HOPE!

Donations needed for SlutWalk Minneapolis- ALMOST THERE! 🙂

We really need your help.
We have $1,742 in donations right now, and that means we have paid the permit for the Park Board. YES!
We have an additional invoice of $402 for the rentals for the road barriers for the Walk. The total is $2,137. We are only $395 away from paying for the Walk. So close, we can hardly stand it!!

Slutwalk’s started when a Toronto police officer said that the way women dress contributes to their chances of being sexually assaulted. The rationale goes: “If you don’t dress like a slut, your chances of being victimized or raped goes down.”

Why, that kicked off a worldwide movement for women to be able to dress any way they want ever, all the time! A war against the word SLUT!!

Only bad icky creepy menz would be against that! Because all men are potential rapists, they say, and all women potential victims.

Never mind actual victims of horrendous, and systemic rape, or actual police assault, like Kelly Thomas. These Sluts don’t speak for them, or devote their time to actual issues of violence.

While the girls and the gays were getting all frothed up at the bad policeman’s use of words, an actual victim of Toronto’s police violence, Dorian Barton, a photographer, was fighting through the actual system for his right to be heard after the police broke his shoulder in a vicious assault–because he was taking pictures of actual police brutality.

And police are killing, maiming, mauling and defaming people everywhere, without a peep out of the PeePee panderers–but the Sluts could care less–too busy getting gussied up; buying fishnets and painting their faces and painting signs with ‘bad werdz’ like “SLUTT” on them–and parading around as the clowns of civil rights, rather than activists for change.

It’s only a violation of civil rights if it makes my own PeePee hurt, right?

Clown feminism at it’s best–all costume, no substance, and always a diversion from the real show.

And, meanwhile, I bet you never heard of Dorian the photographer, or Kelly, the homeless mentally ill man, because of all the hoopla about vaginas, and clown feminist causes.

OH! the fun that can be had by walking around with the breeze blowing between your thighs, or your mangina’s! No need to worry about those man-pigs whjen you are on the same team!

Police Officer Manuel Ramos, one of the officers who beat Kelly Thomas to death: why do so many pigs actually LOOK like pigs?

Or you will you be too busy hanging out with these other Minneapolis sluts, feeding the poor ( in which case you are absolved of having to read any further vitriol, here)

The net cause –the goal–of the Slutwalkers? Reclaiming the word SLUT–or so they tell us. But if I were Joseph Goebbels?  I couldn’t possibly dream up a better job of covering up real issues of police violence, and actual police brutality, any better than women’s groups, and  women’s clown feminism causes actually do.

They work so hard to subvert true protest and dissent in their war against words, that the net effect is civil rights have taken the biggest hit in the history of America on the watch of feminism, than they ever did during the civil rights era.

It’s almost as if they work together–Toronto police were busy covering-up and actual case of gross violence–police brutality, and clown feminism was running diversionary tactics away from actual brutality.

We already know that women everywhere, much less in Minnesota are coming in ever greater numbers, and Slutwalks are just the right showcase for that phenomenon. After all, Nordic and European-descended mothers have a historic pattern of empowering their daughters, as per the paradigm discussed in  this post here. [supporting evidence here, and here as well.]

There's something fishy about clown feminism

Naughty Nurses, stripper pole clowns,dirty doctors, and stinkie Little Nemo over here:

Lizzy Brice says “Somewhere along the way we seem to have gotten confused. Author and columnist Ariel Levy puts it likes this in her 2006 book Female Chauvinist Pigs: Women and the Rise of Raunch Culture: “Only thirty years (my lifetime) ago, our mothers were “burning their bras” and picketing Playboy, and suddenly we were getting implants and wearing the bunny logo as supposed symbols of our liberation.”

And, women in Minneapolis are maddeningly, overwhelmingly and historically white as well, so it is the natural place for this sort of organizing.

It is also overwhelmingly gay, in every sense of the word, so SlutWalks are a crucial way for the LGBT and feminist movements to continue to subvert the real issue of police brutality. After all, Sluts can set their own prices in such an economy–and theiy’re way better to look at!

But ACTUAL police brutality? More icky dead men on death row?? Killing the mentally ill???

Priceless!

Clown Feminists call for the death of more white men, like formerly white male Kelly Thomas

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Have you heard of the battle between Jan Kruska and Petra Luna? Call me late to the game, but then again, the effects of women’s violence didn’t affect me until recently. Their story is old news, but it fits my thesis. I bumped into it when I was researching cyber-bullying and slander.

Jan and Petra are both caught up in the resurgence of the sex-negative/ sex positive movement, although they might not know it yet. As far as I can tell, they are the working class version of the academic porn wars that are waged today across the blogosphere.  They are also part of the problem in allowing women’s dialogues to go unheard–or put another way–we need to listen closer to women’s dialogues.

This battle gives us a glimpse of the sort of violence that women wage against each other, against children, and the sexual nature of those battles.

Jan was convicted some years ago of having sex with a teen-aged boy, so she became an advocate for her own causesex-offender registration. Petra is a vigilante who has declared a sort of mission to combat Jan’s mission . She is a Men’s Rights advocate with an organization devoted to helping men escape relationship, and women’s violence. I am no fan of MRA’s in general,  but I am an ardent advocate for the prosecution of female pedophiles at every single opportunity.

I can smell them a mile away--I have the same magical powers sniffing out female pedophiles that gender fems have sniffing out rapists— I also believe in equality, and so, I believe that men should have resources devoted to stopping violence against men and boys. But not devoted to religious vigilantes like Petra.

Politics makes strange bedfellows. Petra has threatened, bullied, and harassed Jan online . And here is Jan’s response to the harrassment.(be careful not to get your eye poked out by that wild 80’s up-do).

I am by default, solidly against bullying, and I will not be bullied either. Who did what first? Always them: I keep records.

Patada

That's NOT a hacky sack!

But still, some feminists, and some in the LGBT/TS communities are often surprisingly silent about such harassment of women by women, much less men–they are first and foremost sworn to keep secrets, apparently. I also suspect that being vocal or truthful on the wider issues jeopardizes their identity somehow…

You can watch for yourself, and call your own shots in the battle. It’s been going on forever. When the issue is the abuse of children by women, most of the allied pro-woman community are dead silent. This reveals the extent of some women’s self righteousness in harassing and labeling others, at the expense of truth, or justice, as well as where such dialogues are headed–the sliding scale–the filtering–of women’s truth to the wider audience, about women’s violence against each other, and children.

I suspect that at the root of such dialogues there are many secrets, one woman to the next, that have nothing to do with men or patriarchy, and these secrets shared between women are what create rapists and other ‘criminals.’

But no one wants to look at that yet–there’s just too much money to be made kicking straw-men in the balls all the time, and forming organizations and getting ‘funding’ by keeping that dialogue quiet right now.

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Catharine MacKinnon

Today I declare the Save the Vagina's Before it's Too Late initiative in honor of Catharine MacKinnon, feminist legal scholar, and author of the Vagina Monolith's, and the Soccermom Diatribes. Now make sure you get home before midnight, Cindy!

Let’s get the the dull, academically fraudulent, sex negative, sexist stuff from two notoriously angry, manipulative, controlling women, out of the way right from the start.

But first! A public service message: Do you sit awake nights, worrying about hungry, sick, starving vaginas all over the world?  You CAN make a difference in the life and health of vaginas.  SAVE A VAGINA TODAY!  by donating to women’s cervical cancer research.

Now back to the porn wars: Andrea Dworkin and Catharine MacKinnon got an anti-pornography statute passed  that is still lurking on the books in the City of Minneapolis:

Pornography and Civil Rights
A NEW DAY FOR WOMEN’S EQUALITY by ANDREA DWORKIN and CATHARINE A. MacKINNON
Copyright © 1988 by Catharine A. MacKinnon and Andrea Dworkin
“Pornography is central in creating and maintaining the civil inequality of the sexes. Pornography is a systematic practice of exploitation and subordination based on sex which differentially harms women. . . .”  Their completely new legal approach–in which pornography is defined as sex discrimination and therefore a violation of civil rights–would allow anyone injured by pornography to fight back by filing a civil lawsuit against pornographers.
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Wheeew, smells like a cat box up there–reeks like the turds of  little captive animals that claw furniture and ask you for food all day long, and then snuggle all night. MeeeEEEow till I get what I want, claw furniture if I don’t….

So dualistic–so negative–so typically feminist, but indeed, undeniably, pornography IS differential in the treatment of the subjects involved. Civil rights? Meh.

I better go to the dictionary on that one. Not Civil rights, silly–we know how hard feminists work against those!

But Pornography–wha tis it? The free download of the Sage Dictionary , a dictionary for linguists, gives me a common working definition of pornography: Creative activity (writing or pictures or films etc.) of no literary or artistic value other than to stimulate sexual desire.

Pornography depicting coitus, cunnilingus, felatio, sodomy, BDSM, and the many other etcetera’s of sexual action is everywhere you look–three mouse clicks or less  from every man, woman and child in the ‘civilized’ world of cyberspace.

 [warning: you are three clicks away from free, virus- free, relatively harmless adult sexual material here ]

That may or may not be a bad thing, but the dialogue about porn is important, and definitely headed in the wrong direction–because it is actually a dialogue about speech. You can decide for yourself. I will wait as you peruse the hundreds of various links–after all, their actually is something for every-BODY.

Straight, LGBT, TS, hard and softcore bodies everywhere you look–we are all different.

But the more important dialogue about pornography has yet to take place, and that dialogue has its roots in the same definition of pornography that is in common use, a dialogue that is the most important dialogue of our next decade; one that hasn’t taken place yet because it has been constrained, AND restrained.

War pornography. War pornography is how we bully young males into submission, and objectify them, via images of men as tools, objects, and perpetrators of violence. Good men, bad men: soft-core, and hard-core males. Either way, men are more disposable than used condoms, and always presented in dualistic terms.

It begins with shame. Male shame. Shaming males into submission.

Pornography, by the definition, involves ‘creative activity’; that portion of the definition is not really in dispute by anyone. Porn is a created product, and is often quite creative as well. The big bone of contention seems to be the next part “other than to stimulate sexual desire.”

What does THAT mean? We are all different–stimulation begins in the brain.

But I have a bone to pick with such a vapid generalization [Sage… dictionary, definition 1, not 2, because definition 2 at least uses the words ‘flavor’, and ‘tang’ to describe ‘vapid’? The use of the letter V anywhere can arouse me, by design of the current feminist propaganda [V-day and the Vagina Monologues are sooo in your face every year, whether I want it or not].

But ‘flavorful tang???’  I am blowing my top…Even the propagandists missed that shameful naughtiness in the word ‘vapid,’ while they were hyper-focused on ‘vaginas’ [ Sage, vagina: definition 2 a moist canal in female mammals]. Western propagandists make their money from pandering to vaginas.

Flavorful tang…I am going full bore boner!  My penis is suddenly a weapon of thought! An underwear-agent in a propaganda war!! Tang, is like ‘poontang’; and then,  by a stretch, the coochie is tangy??  I am dick-dog rape crazy, according to the feminist literature.  I gotta run out, and rape all of the holes in Coochie right now! Holes, plural, IN coochie?

 Poontang and coochie  are words that likely have Chinese or Korean origins, as their form mirrors Korean and Vietnamese language structures. But the popularity and use of these words directly mirrors American imperialism in Asia. Cu Chi, a city in Viet Nam, is most likely where we get the word coochie. Ouch–look out for the booby traps, and holes full of bamboo spikes…but I digress.

No wonder all the boys, and radical feminists, are lost on Asian porn..

I apparently can’t help myself, according to the rhetoric of the current crop of feminist propagandists. I am a natural born rapist. Engendered male, porn is only one of ‘my tools’  for oppressing ‘all’ women, and especially gender feminist, lesbian academics–both male and female– who feed off of them. These people actually, physically,  wage war on me with the rhetoric of ‘men and porn’, by making me a sexual suspect in their rhetoric, and then, an actual suspect under the law.

Then, they invest in Hillary Clinton’s war chest, so she can save America from the Libyans. Either way, it wasn’t, and it won’t be anytime soon, me raping women overseas, for male or female warlords, or anywhere else to feed American women’s children with a soldiers pay.

But full-bore boner-words, phrases, ideas, and pictures that make me horny–even if no one is around!? I might make my own money off of that–and I will fight to be able to use words, images, pictures and text to understand my world.

Me–all by myself, drowning in the Onanist impulses of symbols and language, I can conjur fantasies of sex–without those ‘real’ women like Kate and Dre!  I really don’t need pictures–they are just nice accessories to remind me exactly why I prefer my own company over the company of weirdo’s who want to interpret what I feel for me, and extrapolate what it ‘could’ mean–or try to  tell me what ‘my’ mind is thinking, before they sweep out their own heads.

Nurse Ratched: Aren’t you ashamed?
Billy: No, I’m not.
[Applause from friends]
Nurse Ratched: You know Billy, what worries me is how your mother is going to take this.
Billy: Um, um, well, y-y-y-you d-d-d-don’t have to t-t-t-tell her, Miss Ratched.
Nurse Ratched: I don’t have to tell her? Your mother and I are old friends. You know that.
Billy: P-p-p-please d-d-don’t tell my m-m-m-mother.

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0073486/quotes

Shame on me. More shame on me….guilt, guilt, guilded male–and then more shame on me. They did all the thinking for me, and porn is killing, and oppressing everybody, most of all, women, children,  and vaginas. Shit–what do I do now to assauge my guilt?? Do I combat the capitalists who drop depleted uranium on children? Do I just vote for Hillary in the next election, because Dick Cheney supports her?

No! I should run out and save a vagina today! Blame it on da pornz! War is all about oppressin’ da wiminz.

Dear Woman: Here’s some free or low cost sperm–hell, you can have my nuts–but please raise a cop or a soldier who will protect the vaginas, and your vagina! Here’s a pedestal–keep your vagina up there! I will even cross the street if it helps you to trust me again, and makes you feel less scared of my weiner!

There’s some stainkin’ thankin’…

Think for yourself, and everything turns out o.k. I promise; but let them inside your sexuality? Let them define you? They will wage war.  You become the deviant in their construct–because you let them inside!

And they will tell you more about themselves in one sentence about their own construct of a purely hypothetical construction of ‘you’ than you could ever learn about them by torturing them to death in a snuff porn film. Just don’t tell them that even idiots know the CIA is the only American talent agency that actually makes snuff porn.[Nick Berg: poor dead guy; and here, too.]

What is striking in every way is how narrowly focused the gatekeepers of knowlege are in attempting to limit my full-bore brain-boner: academics, militarists, feminists,  and anti-feminists have been  limiting the discussion to thoughts about ‘womens bodies’ for centuries, instead of the vagizillions of other forms of pornography that don’t seem to ruffle their feathers.

My first full-bore boy-boner was the dictionary.

We should regulate the sale of dictionaries to children–because if even words can make us horny, what is next?  ‘It’s for the children‘, they always say–then they shut them up early, and keep the kids illiterate.  Besides, they rage, one of them damned Webster’s dictionary people supported the Fugitive Slave Act a hundred and fifty years ago!(1)

What next?? The children?????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So, in the feminist paradigms, language is the true oppressor. It’s high time to outlaw dictionaries. And apparently, boners kill women and children, and are big enough to intrude on civil rights.Never mind the inherent contradiction when they tell you men have tiny dicks…

How easy it is  to obliterate, or ‘snuff’  from the definition of pornography the portion of the definition that talks about “creative,” and focus instead on “stimulation of sexual desire,” and in so doing, to create the appearance that everything, and every image with a woman is potentially pornographic, and thus, every image without a woman is somehow NOT pornographic, or that images that lack women are nearly snuff porn.

So what ARE those type of images, devoid of patriarchy? Oh, yeah–empty headed Fabio…or Pat Califia’s dick…

What is commonly called "girl porn",--romance novels-- aren't even close to the 'meat' of the issue of women's actual objectification of men.

What is commonly called "girl porn",--romance novels-- aren't even close to the 'meat' of the issue of women's actual objectification of men..

Just try to imagine, an image without women. Next thing you know, imagination is imagery, according to them, time to clean your mind of it’s filth–your mind, I remind you, not their projections.

These folks are counter-productive in the least, snuffing themselves out like that. Counter-productively snuffing me, too, with their preemptive, eternal rhetoric of objectification.

It leaves  the nasal impression–the stench– that images of men ‘with’ women have a lurking and deviant sexual intent; images of women with women is ‘slavery’ performed before patriarchy–despite kyriarchal advancement; images of BDSM,or leather boys and girls  in Hitler gear, schtupping each other; ‘ one  is re-enacting ones own subjugation,’  but mostly, the actual stench is the carcases of dead heterosexual men, and ‘othered’ men and women not worthy of eroticism, mere bodies, filthy, and pornographic in or of ourselves, tossed into a dumpster, or a heap of fire in yet another war zone that was created to feed hungry western capitalists, both male and female.

Men have been denied the truly erotic–they tell us that images of women and ‘others’ are objectifying and pornographic, and images of men are not. You don’t have to be gay to figure out that cuntnundrum*

But simple analysis of any and all images tell’s us with certainty–that you must ask yourself, or ask the image,  not those who tell you that the moon is made of Swiss cheese, and poke holes in you for impact. Images provoke thought, and thought can produce desire. Words do that too–ALL WORDS. Humans have evolved to communicate with each other.

Hence, communication in any form is the essence of the erotic; the seeds of desire, regardless of the method of transmittal.

But what IS that desire?  Is it exclusively physical and sexual, a thought that leads only to action related to that thought, as they try to force us to believe? Each and every word, image or filmic representation spoken or shared one person to another is a symbol, a communication of some form of desire, a piece of the bigger desire. Yet a desire to talk about the meaning of words does not equate with any action other than to talk to someone about desire, or it’s opposite.

Add images and films? They are just word enhancers.

And words that we say only to ourselves about actions, or non-actions are certainly meaningful as well; if not the singular most important thing, they are the second. Our inter-persona, intra-psychic communication doesn’t necessarily equate with a desire for actual ‘sex,’ at all, any more than a desire for ‘communication’ of our ideas, some of which are about sex, but some of which are about other things too.

Does looking at the expensive dress in the window equate with buying the dress? Sure–for the rich, the hedonistic, the bored, the selfish, or the foolish. Those who are bought, buy as well. But what if you can’t be bought?

So, if anything IS or can be pornographic, it isn’t the ‘creative’ portion of the definition. We are all producers of creative impulses, and many enjoy the intellectual processes caused by viewing  porn . But definitions of porn are in fact the relational, superimposed and interpretatational, relative, objectification of intentions  by others with whom we interact, and communication which takes place, or could take place from those objectifiers have the explicit intention of preemptively circumventing your personal interpretation of your own intentions.

It is not a concrete, monolithic absolute that porn hurts viewers at all, or even most actors involved.

Porn is fantasy communication, like thoughts one could have for a conversation with Gandhi, Dworkin, or Freud. Porn creates a psychic space that is an intellectually, or emotionally safe distance from which to have a fantasy dialogue with others–and with yourself. THAT is where you stand the largest chance to begin fulfilling the ‘desire’ that images can create–in defining for yourself what you are perceiving, and then communicating that desire–in words to others, if it all works out.

And viewing idealized body images increases personal satisfaction for some people.It’s no stretch to imagine similar things about naked bodies and sex.

Adding the gross misrepresentations and anecdotes of abuses that have taken place in some forms of sex pornography is akin to adding hot-pepper to your morning oatmeal, and telling you that’s what oatmeal is.

Viewing images of dogs can invoke feelings of affection, security, comfort, and a thus, a whole host of other feelings potentially related to sexual expression that could take place in a home  (and which I suspect can also stir up the oxytocin releasing, orgasm producing mechanism in the brain). Emotions are, at their base in the lymbic system,  related to those that produce sexual feelings; images of families, or images of children ( see dogs and families), are no stretch if one wished to conflate images and political agendas.

If we accept the paradigm that viewing pornography does NOT equate with having actual sex any more or less than images of dogs equate with family, home or security, we cannot say that images and video’s of nude people are pornographic any more than the word ‘vapid,’ snapshots of Fido, or militaristic  propaganda pictures of flags waving.

Those who are in porn enter the psychic space by our own consent–whether they are ‘victims’ or not is a separate issue entirely.

Yet if we accept the feminist and militarist, and by rote and association, the judicial definitions of pornography as a tool facilitating ‘rape, power, or sexual violence, that enslaves, or steals from women and children’ ( a common pro-war feminist trope*),  we must also then say also that sexualy stimulating pornography for them are the body counts in the news, the stories of conquest of ‘othered’ men, images of ‘othered’ men cleaning up dead male bodies,  images of men at Abu Ghraib, or images of dead babies who have been exposed to uranium, because these images stir up feelings of ‘power,’  whose only relation is to ‘desire’.

Patriarchy and modern feminism are inseparable mates in the creation of pornography.

Images of power relationships cause arousal, according to the definition, and MacKinnon- Dworkin, and all other sex negative feminists. So, the  images of disemboweled, oppressed, enslaved, or dead men, women and babies, whether written or photographed or filmed, are not merely ‘vacant’ images [vacant, ala Sage: definition 1 , cancel officially; definition 2 ‘leave behind, empty], but also images that cause dialogue;  leads to creative impulses, and hence, as per the puppy= security paradigm, can cause female arousal which can be termed sexual.

The debate has been constrained thusly: it is most always limited to discussing women’s bodies, women’s sexuality or women’s perspectives about sex; it is always spoken from one monolithic feminist to another; and it has in recent years engaged the gay community, and sex positive feminists in other dialogues about other forms and perceptions of sexual stimulation through pornography; it has informed the discussion that there are many perspectives of what is sexually stimulating.

But it is the actual communication that has provably opened the doors to sexual liberation–talking to each other makes us horny.

Yet the dialogue has never sufficiently addressed every day images of men that on the surface are not  prima facie sexually stimulating; by THEIR definition.  Yet images of men, dogs, and families have the wider effect of being ultimately, sexual in their evocation of sexual possibility, sexual power, and their portrayal of the myth of home and family, where masculinity and femininity in union, and in dialogue, ‘create’.

These types of images cause dialogue–and  oxytocin levels to rise in the brain.

The soldier in uniform; the basket ball player in sweats; the  cop beating a peace protester or a mentally ill man to death is especially dear and stimulating to militarists and “radical” feminists who openly call for the exertion of power to cause male death; and images of  men conquering men certainly causes some pornographic dialog window to pop-up for these ‘domestic’ types.

And words which women use to describe men, writing what they have written about men– entire women’s studies departments at any major university that discuss, or employ images of men;  any ‘liberal’ or ‘conservative’ blog which employs competitive themes,  and any discussion where power is present, is a hotbed of pornographic representations of masculinity. The spaces wherein definitions of pornography or men are debated, are urgent, hormonally charged, verbose environments full of pornographic illustrations–and thus, are also pornographic by definition.

Which is why I am NOT a feminist–nor an anti-feminist, or a militarist: because according to the truth of MacKinnon and Dworkin, “exploitation and subordination based on sex which differentially harms women, “ is what porn is.

That might be true indeed, if I were a woman.  Differentially only means different. And if I could choose, and not let them continue to choose for me, or pursue me against my will? I choose NOT to have my body photographed at Abu Ghraib; photographed while being water-boarded,  have a mugshot taken, or be photographed dead.

Differential? Of course, by definition, nude representations can be sexist–differential only means different. That certain forms of pornography consume the dialectic? Preferential in the dialogue? Definitely. Men are over-represented in most imaginings of male–represented in a pornographic manner–dead, and truly voiceless–we expect that of men.

We expect that by their definition of men, and patriarchy, without ever discussing women who are pro-war in the dialectic and in their votes, whether feminist or not is subsidiary to the fact that they conceive men for war.

But I might add, theirs is a literally vapid, vacant definition, too, because male voices are missing in that discussion–prohibited from openly declaring any ideas thatrelate to themselves as exploited persons; voices missing even in their own bodies, which are conceived as war objects, while female voices, their panderers,  and their patrons just bitch about camera angles and perspectives.

It leaves ME feeling used, and counting days till I pass on into the next life–if there is one.And there isn’t.

[ cue the oompa-doom-papa porn music]

Given the choice, I would give those murderous fuckers–those voyeuristic, predatory  bitches and bastards–all the boner shots they want of me reading my dictionary–into eternity, if photos, and pornographic representations in words can live that long.

And get ready–where are those sun-glasses? But here’s the cum-shot: You can all go fuck yourselves for awhile (but in a sex positive way, of course), until you figure out if you are able to know what porn even is: as the Felix Frankfurter once said in  Butler v. State of Michigan about obscenity, and which applies to current feminist ideation in this area”you burn down the house to roast the pig.”

Or the sows who capitalize on your ignorance–your silence– in this dialogue.That perverse, feminist, domestic-war-mongering has been conflated for decades with naked, living people and pornography, and today seeks ownership of the industry–not moral high ground, but pure profit potential.

And limiting the definition of pornographic representation to women’s bodies? Now that’s obscene, even by the early definitions of pornography.

But you aren’t. I am not.

War is.

Yet no one really see’s it, ever, much less ‘get’s that’, because of all that pussy in your face. And now, I am not talking about the raging Coochie, or the Poon Tang,  either. I am talking about you. Walking talking porn of one sex or another, even if you never lifted the cover of Playboy magazine–a magazine that CIA feminist, and publisher Gloria Steinem is attempting to own and control right now.

Now go cast some stupid vote for Them or theM, a vote that kills, maims, or chemically alters the DNA of some actual babies, and  ‘othered’ men– their fathers no matter which side you are on.

But stop worrying about internet porn. It will outlive you. Your son, if you have one,  may not.

*trope: language used in a figurative or non literal sense. In this case, a myth of culture that is espoused by militarists, feminists, and so forth, which is encouraged and enhanced by the presumption that only women and children comprise a ‘literal’ family, sans males or fathers.

*cuntnundrum: the illogical logic that is employed in feminist rhetoric. Like Christian rhetoric that says “first their was G-d,then everything eklse, so, everything =G-d,”  radical feminists posit “patriarchy, thus it’s all mens’ faults.’

1) Peoples History of the United States, Zinn, Howard. pg.177 (1995 edition, chap 9, ‘Without Submission’ )

The social self.

Dear enemy of freedom: start on the inside, and work your way out--but learn to do it nicely, you big bully. p.s. I am stuck in the middle between these two dueling lunacies of YOUR self and OUR culture.

Dear Enemy:
Is it you who let the cops brutally beat mentally ill people to death all over my country; you, who listen only to shame and fear based, ‘othering’ messages that only encourage a police-state mentality in America; you, too lazy to take back your cities and your televisions from the madness of fascist ideology that puts ever more police programming and  intrusions into our lives; you who use the U.S. Constitution to wipe your asses?

Well knock it off before I kick your ass, tear you to bits, bash your brains out and murder you! With words, pictures, and IDEAS…

Schizophrenic, homeless California man, Kelly Thomas cries for his father as six Fullerton, CA police officers beat, and Taser him to death. Thomas’ father is a retired cop.

Question: what state of mind, what social conscience–what social constructs— leads to a mindset that men should be beaten to death? See if you can spot the fascists in, or outside of the video.

Fascism begins with fear, then the ‘othering’ of races, classes, or nationalities, and displays itself as any form of ‘us versus them’ mentality. Men’s bodies are generally less than valuable, unless they can be used by the fascist society for work, or war; commodities that can also be loaned out or traded.

Male bodies are tools, objects, and entities’ that are a threat to police and the upholders of police state violence.

News footage and eyewitness account.

Does your version of humanism, or  feminism talk about men as tools, or objects? You might want to rethink that answer…or are you one of those “better HIM than ME” types?

Each time yet another man is killed or tortured, or beaten by police or state power, it is snuff porn, sung to the  American national anthem.

Kelly Thomas, beaten to death by police officers.