Anonymous asked: Is the post you're talking about from user luaren? I liked the post because I saw it was being critical of the porn industry and wanted to reread it, but I saw your post and then read more of the users blog and they seem to be against porn completely. But I just wanted to check if that was the post. Also, I have an issue: I really want to start being critical of porn (industry), but when do we draw the line between being critical and not overstepping? Also, how can an ally speak about issues
speak of issues and be critical, but not further place a stigma/overstep/further oppress sex workers? I know obviously one is listening to actual sex workers, but I’m just worried I guess. Do you follow any other sex workers who speak on politics, etc. such as you? Thank you! Also, did you once say that sometimes. porn isn’t always violent and it’s wrong to say all porn is? I’m not sure if it was you. And if not, I’m sorry about the confusion! Thank you so much.
I wish I had the mental wherewithal to add substantively to this conversation, but all I can think about is how flattered I am to be cited as a resource by jobhaver—it’s like winning a Pulitzer, you know, if that was judged by a brilliant, funny blogger whose opinion I valued. I’m also going to add to this list by mentioning leighalanna, and the redupnyc tumblr, run by the ever formidable Emma Caterine
The rape joke is that at the time,
you didn’t know people had sex to express love.
The rape joke is that the only other person
who’d seen you naked was your mom.
The rape joke is that he called you ‘beautiful’ first.
The rape joke is that he held your hands together
and told you to ‘try harder’ when you struggled.
The rape joke is that you believed him
when he told you were overreacting.
The rape joke is that your grandma
called him a nice boy and asked him to stay for dinner.
The rape joke is that he winked at you
when you apologized to your parents for not coming
downstairs the first time you were called.
The rape joke is that his friends
high-fived him for “getting some.”
The rape joke is that you still don’t feel like
you’ve regrown the pieces he stole.
The rape joke is that he was conceived when his
dad slapped himself into his snoring mother.
The rape joke is that her friends told her
she was lucky someone wanted her.
The rape joke is that each year in the United States,
32,000 other women’s bellies
ripen with life against their will.
The rape joke is that he never learned
to touch without scarring.
The rape joke is that your classmate thinks
‘have you seen what asses look like in yoga pants?’
is an argument.
The rape joke is your new boyfriend kissing
you and telling you he ‘raped’ his math test.
The rape joke is that ‘Why are girls so scared of rape? Y’all should feel pride that a guy risked his life in jail just to fuck you’
is a popular Tweet right now.
The rape joke is that you wake up to
the memory of him laughing,
“now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
The rape joke is that it’s been twelve years and
you still quiver when someone touches you.
The rape joke is that he hasn’t stopped laughing.
The rape joke is that you forgot how to."
with a red cup full of Birthday Cake flavored vodka
wearing a headdress
made of neon Dollar Store chicken feathers.
You’re half naked in a grassy field
with drugstore lipstick smeared under your eyes
and wearing moccasins from Urban Outfitters.
You can’t wait for Coachella
so you can finally smoke a peace pipe in a tepee
and find your Spirit Animal.
You think Native American culture is so beautiful
and clumsily show it with your
hashtags on tumblr and Instagram.
But when actual Indigenous people tell you that
Gypsy, Squaw and Red Injun are all racist slurs
Headdresses are sacred
and war paint on your white face is insulting
“I’m just appreciating your beautiful culture!
I’m 1/16th Cherokee.”
Ignoring the fact that running around
naked in the woods on shrooms
will not connect you with any tribe
and that your great great great great grandmother
along with the rest of the Cherokee people
never wore headdresses."
It has been argued that rape constituted a form of social control in so far as it represented a means of keeping women ‘in their place’, a way of constraining their behaviour. … It is not rape itself which constitutes a form of social control but the internationalisation by women, through continual socialisation, of the possibility of rape. This implicit threat of rape is conveyed in terms of certain prescriptions which are placed upon the behaviour of girls and women, and through common-sense understandings that ‘naturalise’ gender appropriate forms of behaviour. Both the implicit threat of rape, couched in terms of prevalent social stereotypes, and the conventionally accepted ways to avoid such an experience, being in some places rather than others, doing some things but not others, adopting only specific attitudes, etc., are conveyed, and continually reinforced along with a whole range of cultural values concerning female (and male) sexuality.
The cumulative effect of press reports of rape is to remind women of their vulnerability, to create an atmosphere of fear and to suggest, as a solution, that women should withdraw to the traditional shelter of the domestic sphere and the protection of their men. … In other words, women are to limit their freedom in order to avoid rape. The irony of this kind of advice and the related representation of rape in the media is that they are based on a false premise. Namely that rape is an isolated, socially unstructured phenomenon which affects specific categories of women in special social circumstances. The reality is significantly different, however, for rape may take place within the domestic sphere, among family and friends, as much as amongst strangers. Hence rape becomes a form of social control in a dual sense, first, inasmuch as it is a form of physical coercion and violence, and second, in so far as the fear or threat of rape, as communicated by the media, in literature, on film, and in the press, serves to socialise women into tacitly constraining and limiting their own forms of behaviour and social activity."
Disliking hip-hop doesn’t make you a racist any more than liking hip-hop makes you not a racist, and I’m sure there are plenty of Stormfront enthusiasts with Rick Ross in their iTunes. If you don’t like Jay-Z because you just don’t like the way he sounds, or you’re sick of his cloying ubiquity, or you wish he’d talk about something other than where he’s from for five seconds—hey, I’m not mad, I don’t like Bruce Springsteen for the same reasons. But if you don’t like rap music—a genre that contains multitudes—because of a self-satisfied moralism, or because you’re scared of it, or because you wish those people would stop talking about their problems and get out of your television and radio and kids’ bedrooms: well.
And I’m not just talking about the American right, I’m talking about all the well-meaning white folks who’ve told me how they want to like Lil Wayne but lo, the misogyny, the violence, the drugs. But, but, I’ll say: Bob Dylan aced misogyny; the Rolling Stones sang about violence; the Velvet Underground knew their way around some drugs. Yeeeah, but it’s different, they’ll say, elongating that “yeah” with conspiratorial inflection: you know what I mean. Yeah, I know exactly what you mean.
Rap music doesn’t get unarmed kids shot to death, “it’s different” does. “It’s different” infuses “these assholes always get away” and gives solace to people who hear that sound bite and nod their empty heads in agreement. “It’s different” is the same logic that suggests a teenager’s skin color combined with the music he listened to means he had it coming, and it’s the same logic that lets a bunch of people feign outrage over a teenager’s use of the n-word to describe himself when they’re really just outraged that he beat them to the punch.
“It’s different” makes me shake with anger because it turns music into a dog-whistle to justify the murder of a kid who doesn’t seem all that “different” from me was when I was his age, not that different at all. I liked Skittles and hoodies and weed, too. And yeah, I’m white and never worried about getting shot for any of it, which is only the most loathsome excuse for not identifying with someone that I can possibly think of."