!!!!BIG FAT ANGRY SNARK WARNING!!!!!
Gotta love that sentiment. Sometimes people fuck up and they do so out of ignorance but not malice. Other times, it’s just pure malice cloaked in the sad shadowy twin of humor. Nothing funny about it, just creepy and inappropriate and at times—enraging.
After the Women’s March, I have seen so much hateful “humor” on the internet about the march and what it all really meant—through the eyes of mansplainers. Once again I am so glad you are here to tell me how I feel and what I am thinking. I have such difficulties (as do all women) when it comes to knowing my own mind and expressing my own feelings. I mean males are such awesome communicators—sometimes its difficult to get them to stop talking. But in all that inane blathering about the deeper symbolism and concerns over my less than perfect female life—I take time to stop and listen to all those cocks crowing from the peanut gallery.
Fat Women marching, angry women marching (for no reason I might add); bitchy women marching, confused women marching (This way to the pumpkin spice latte?); my personal favorite—a blast from the obscure past where Jim Bakker of ye olde PTL scandal stating that women were marching for the right to kill their babies!
You have to understand I have the tee-shirt with the quote from Pat Robertson from the 80s, about Feminism being about aborting babies and killing husbands and destroying capitalism—so I had a warm moment of nostalgia when I found that Jim Bakker quote. But hey, that’s what toilet paper is for.
OMFG—If only I had known that this was the fulcrum of the long awaited World Wide Satanic Bitch Conspiracy!! I would have dressed as the Whore of Babylon to bring the whole motif together! I always thought there would be more dudes in robes, and black helicopters at such an event—but you know giggly toddlers and dads with baby bjorn harnesses on—that’s pretty scary right? Like a Veggie Tales pirate come to feed on your very soul!
Of the hundreds of babies I have had and eaten—I allowed a couple of the “good ones” to live. The hard part is teaching them all the intricacies of worshiping the devil and undermining capitalism. When I am not aborting and eating my own progeny, I can be found painting my nails and bashing baby seals with hooked clubs and placing severed weenies in jars. Love those new battery powered LED lights—they really make those jars look extra glowy and creepy.
Because that’s what Feminists do—don’t ya know! And if you believe all that malarkey I have a bridge to sell you in California with Rapture Insurance.
I saw some idiot remark from Britain stating that Feminism is about women being sooooo good that no one cares what gender they are—
Okay Fucktwit—here’s a newsflash for ya. How about simply not seeing my gender as a negative-period.
Uh oh I made a funny—about menstrual blood! get it? period?! Hang on let me mop that clot up!
Seriously this guy accidentally framed the “woman problem” in a nutshell (no pun intended). But the fact that we women (along with other minorities) have to put on superman capes and be SUPER-overqualified in every way-- in order to rank as “pretty good for a girl” and get paid anywhere from 45 to 65 cents on the dollar for the same job from our male counterparts—gosh where to start?
Hiring women for pennies on the dollar—how economical. More bang for the buck! Did I say BANG?
Women and their allies MARCHED! You saw us. It is in part to remind the other part of the country that we are voters and we will take part, actively—not passively in the Great Experiment. I am a feminist and I vote often and regularly.
I am a feminist who has worked in traditionally male dominated careers before there were even sexual harassment laws. So please mansplain all you want about why we are out there or what it all really means because I find such explanations amusing and silly and quite frankly—OLD HAT. Right up there with black helicopters, Satanic Panics and tin foil hats—truth be told.
Don’t know what I am talking about? See this huffpo article as an example
Though I have already seen various memes and crap popping up all over the net.
Why did I march? To be visible as a Woman Voter.
I marched because women are taught they have to tear each other down in order to find success. I have been watching that right now post-march.
I marched because I hate how the healthcare system treats women and their bodies—as an afterthought, a freak of nature that cannot be fixed, to the point where we have to make a stink to get scientists to use female animals and people as test subjects because --boohoo-estrus and menstruation complicate things.
I march because I have to take my husband with me to every doctor’s appointment, because his presence makes a positive impact on my treatment. WTF seriously?
I marched because I have been stalked. I have been assaulted, I have been threatened online and in real life JUST because I am female. And I know that horrible sinking pit in the stomach that comes on a person when they have to always look over their shoulder and literally sleep with one eye open and a fucking knife under the pillow.
I march because I want my children and their children to live lives as women where these are no longer major issues of concern.
I march because I am tired of neocons and baggers talking about women as if we aren’t standing right here—aren’t somehow present to respond or understand what’s being discussed.
I march because I am tired of my rights being used as a bargaining chip for conservatives—something to be conceded-- a big old rubber nipple in their mouth to stop their whining whenever any kind of other social reforms are attempted. The Woman-Chip gets passed around a lot.
I march for every woman I know who has been stalked, raped, molested or suffered sexual harassment or gender discrimination on the job-- or harassment while walking down the street—and FYI THAT IS EVERY FUCKING WOMAN AND GIRL I KNOW.
I march for every minority woman who has been victimized because the perp thought that no one would care that a minority woman was being perped on. I FUCKING CARE!
I march for every man who has had to nurse a woman in his life through these terrible situations and circumstances and crimes, who feels helpless rage because his eyes have been opened and he doesn’t know what to do or where to start because these problems are so widespread and ubiquitous. Yea I know honey, it’s yuge.
I march for every time someone told me that the crap I went through in the military couldn’t have been that bad; and I wonder if they would have lasted as long as I did, or opted to eat a gun instead to make it fucking stop.
Its a funny Fucking joke people—can’t you hear me fucking laughing?
I march for those women who survived the AFA scandal, Aberdeen Proving Ground, for Tailhook, for those who died of dehydration because they couldn’t drink in the desert after 3 pm for fear of being raped by their own while going to the latrine.
I march for that poor Mormon woman who committed suicide rather than torture POWs.
I march for women who survived horrors while serving in Vietnam, horrors perpetrated on them by their own.
I march for every woman in prison who has to beg for a tampon or a pad, or who has to give birth on her back, chained to a bed like a dog.
I march for the woman in prison 40 years or so ago, whose test case won all women the right to use deadly force to defend herself from being raped—in her case by a guard.
I march for the working mom who is tasked with training her future manager.
I march for the woman who gets ripped off whenever she takes her car to be fixed.
I march for all those women who were forced into the Magdalen Laundries.
I march for the Native Women, the Chicanas, and African American women who were forcibly sterilized without knowledge or consent by the state. I know you thought only Nazis do that—but seriously—read a fucking book. Many of those women are still with us because this was so recent.
I march for the teen-age girl too afraid to tell anyone she is pregnant
I march for the teenage girl who is too afraid to tell anyone she is being battered by her boyfriend.
I march for every girl and woman who’s been roofied at a party or on a date.
I march for every female who was raped as punishment for getting drunk at a party.
I march for all the people I knew who couldn’t have their loved ones next to them on their death’s bed because same sex unions or marriages weren’t recognized by hospitals or the states. Because I lived through some of the Bad Old Days before DADT was rescinded and before Same Sex marriages were allowed.
I march for the Gay people I knew in the military whom—if found out, could be kicked out of the military if someone didn’t beat them to death first or shove them off the fan tail of the boat.
I march for all the battered women I have known.
I march because I cannot turn my memories off.
I march for those girls I knew in high-school who were thrown away by their families over sex or sexual orientation.
I march for every woman betrayed by her own country in word and deed, for allowing her to be dehumanized, raped, assaulted, humiliated, publicly shamed, spit upon and abandoned by a system that was never built with her in mind.
All women and girls deserve way more than that. We do so much for this whole world—you would think that some males out there would take the time to teach themselves what it means to feel gratitude.
I march for every mom who has felt socially isolated after having babies—whose baby blues or depression was ignored.
I march for the woman who cares for her children and aging relatives simultaneously—often while holding down a full time job or after having to give up her career in order to make it happen.
I march for the women who choose to be childless and are punished for it by their family and their peers.
I march for those moms and grandmas who make magic happen who somehow get all the kids food enough and clothing enough and keep some kind of roof over their heads while suffering the humiliation of dealing with our “safety net” system.
I march for the woman who turns tricks to keep the lights on and food on the table.
I march for the women who have been punished because they said no.
I march for women who have been punished because they said yes.
I march for women forced into sex trafficking
I march for women in the sex industry.
I march for victims of revenge porn.
I march for all those college students who dance for tips.
I am marching for all those women who had to delay higher education until menopause because they sacrificed for their families.
I don’t care what color your skin is, or what church you may go to, or if you were originally born a woman—I am marching for you all because I know. I have seen some shit—and by comparison I probably live a pretty insulated life. Let that sink in a moment—because if this list horrifies you—imagine what my list might look like if I were some other minority.
Wednesday, Jan 25, 2017 · 8:55:04 PM +00:00
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GreenMother
Unrelated to this post but equally important. FYI your tax dollars fund all government agencies and it is because of that a government for and by the people and not for and by the Dumpster, that we have certain rights like the Freedom of Information Act, and so the National Law Review is confirming that the Gag Orders at least for the EPA are unlawful, though I suspect they are for the FDA and the Dept of Interior.
Transparency is the payoff for our money as tax payers, we aren’t fucking serfs that belong to the asshole that owns the land. We don't pay a tithe and hope that it pacifies our hostage taker and chief—
He’s a fucking public servant, and we pay his bullshit paycheck too.
No Fucking Taxation without Represenation, and there can be no factual representation without transparency in our government agencies that have to justify where our money goes and why.