You have been adding comments to a number of my articles of late, claiming that I should be dismissed as a professional opinion writer because I am a ‘celebrity mummy blogger’. I suspect this is an important issue to you and there are probably a great number of other female writers who irritate you just as much.
Anyway, I just wanted to congratulate you for finally pointing out the elephant in the room.
What would someone who has worked in television and has the ability to bear children know about politics, or anything at all for that matter? It does seem to be quite a leap of logic to think that a woman who has worked as a performer for 20 years could possess even the slightest level of intelligence.
As for the work I’ve undertaken as an MC and interviewer for countless functions for corporate, legal, academic, arts and human rights outfits which require the specialist skills I’ve developed – maybe that wasn’t me up there.
I am either thinking of someone else or suffering from false memory syndrome.
The claim that I know stuff is further undermined by the fact that, when I was first offered a job on TV, I had to undergo neurosurgery to remove everything except my brain stem before they’d put me in front of the camera. (There really should be an investigation into that. They do it to all the lady television people. I’d write the story myself, but as I no longer have a left or right hemisphere, the task is beyond me.)
The scariest thing of all is that I know heaps of other women who are claiming (obviously falsely) to have all manner of skills, experience and tertiary qualifications.
They keep insisting that they not only have a right to an opinion, but that their opinion is intelligent and informed…”
[From this article at The New Statesman] “My own “game” hasn’t suffered at all from having short hair, and it’s a really good way of filtering out the douchecanoes. Neo-misogynists tend not to want to sleep with me, date me or wife me up however I wear my hair, because after five minutes of conversation it tends to transpire that I’m precisely the sort of mouthy, ambitious, slutty feminist banshee who haunts their nightmares, but if I keep my hair short we tend to waste less of each other’s time. If you’ve a ladyboner for sexist schmuckweasels, short hair isn’t going to help, although they might let you administer a disappointing hand-job.
But if you want to meet men as equals, if you want to fill your life with amazing men and boys as lovers, as life-partners, as friends and colleagues who treat women and girls as human beings rather than a walking assemblage of “signs of fertility” – believe me, they are out there – then I wouldn’t start by changing your hair. I’d start by changing your politics, and surrounding yourself with people who want to change theirs, too.”
“We are not post-racism any more than we are post-feminism. This is the context into which this video falls: a white middle-class woman playing ringleader to anonymous black women. Maybe there is a knowing wink here I missed. But I haven’t missed years of black women writing about how their bodies are used for white people to write their own scripts all over them.
Whether the project is feminism or a way of selling a song. Our sketches matter. Who gets to be in charge of our bodies matters. So I am sorry but Allen cannot be the one to say this is nothing to do with race. Racism works precisely by denying the presence of race. The privilege is to not notice it.
Does liberal feminism expect so little that we lap up the crumbs from the table? That we say to women of colour: I am afraid your concerns are a bit humourless, we will sort out the race stuff later, and by the way where did you get your nails done? Well, it’s just not good enough for this bitch.
As hard as it might be here, I still know it’s a damn sight harder for some bitches than others.”
“The game industry doesn’t want female characters. That is allegedly the message publishers have been sending to developers…If you are the kind of gamer that legit feels freaked out if you see a female character kiss a man while at the same time refusing to buy a game unless a big muscular guy is holding his polished gleaming weapon on the cover…mwahahahahah [you know what I’m implying].”
