Some days I am Cooper but most days I’m the llama.
i had to make it. no regrets.
I actually squeaked when I remembered I’d bookmarked this GIF:
“But if you think for one second, for one solitary second, that demanding tolerance for men as a group, that dismissing the reality of violence against women because not all men kill, not all men rape, if you think that’s more important than demanding justice for those who have been brutalised and murdered by those not all men, then you are part of the problem. You may not have pulled the trigger. You may not have raised your hand to a woman in your life. But you are part of the problem. This is not the time, to use the refrain of apologists for bigotry, to play devil’s advocate. The devil has more than enough advocates today. On most days, I can put up with aggressive faux-objectivity being used to shout down women’s experiences and silence gendered trauma, but not today.”
Like many of us, I’ve spent the last few days reading and thinking and reading and thinking about violence against women. I watched a shitty Friday the 13th sequel last night, and what screamed out at me was not Jason’s violence, but the many instances of the nonkiller men in the story who got angry when they were denied access to the women whose bodies they thought they deserved. Rodgers didn’t exist in a vacuum.
I read this piece a few days ago, and read it again today, and I think it’s rawness gets right where I needed to go.
This article, too:
And mostly I’m furious that I’ll eventually shrug all of this off, too, because laughing about it is easier than changing it. I’m furious because I don’t know what else to do.
i am so sorry mcsweeney online that I open your RSS feed scanning for a new bitchslap and mark everything as read if i don’t find one, but by now i have already soaked up six lifetimes’ worth of neurotic whiteboy cleverness masquerading as mannered ironic detachment, and it’s starting to give me hives
When I think an outragefest is stupid, I rarely say anything because it never changes minds - it just makes you a target. Anger swings wild.
Also - I think I’m more suspicious now of my desire to say something in those situations. I used to be confused when people didn’t think like me. Maybe if they just knew what I know they’d see! Growing out of that is liberating. Well, maybe not growing out of it - just not caring any more. Learning to let people be themselves without feeling threatened or alienated by their differences?