Category Archives: Human Rights
Conversations with Men: The Rape Holiday
It’s not that I’m shocked when I hear about the horrific things men do to women and girls every minute of every day in every corner of the world. Nothing anyone could tell me would surprise me in the least. It can be disturbing and traumatizing, of course, to read or hear about men’s depravity. But hearing about is different than witnessing, however. When you actually witness stuff, as a woman, that is when you are stunned – sometimes momentarily, sometimes negatively affected for long periods of time. It is only if you find yourself immune or indifferent to the stuff you see, or that you rationalize it away to protect the poor, persecuted, precious penises in your life, that you know you’ve lost too much of your humanity, and accepted your place as a slave.
When you make the mistake of assuming the best of strange men you encounter, that is when you end up with reminders that you are being naive. It is always best to err on the side of caution – all men are potential rapists. All men benefit from rape culture. Most men jerk off to rape (porn isn’t sex, it’s rape), and actively seek out depictions of rape. And all men are rape apologists. If they accept that rape exists, they see it as one of two things: 1) a very, very narrowly defined thing and anything that falls outside their very, very limited, accepted ideas can be waved away as lies! or just the way things are, sweetie, what’s your problem? or you’re paranoid/too sensitive/a manhater; or 2) a very, very broadly defined thing that ends up taking needed focus off of the crime of rape committed by men against women and putting the focus onto men as the main or most important or equally affected victims. Broad definitions of important words are men’s new tactic to erase women’s realities and put themselves in the spotlight, where they feel they belong.
Bottom line: rape is a crime perpetrated by men against women and girls. It comes out of male entitlement. It is done by more men than the world wants to admit. And all men benefit from it whether they directly rape or not.
~~~
Rewind to 2003: I was in the middle of a two-week trip by myself to Cambodia. I was working in Taiwan at the time. All of my Western male colleagues a) told me to be careful in Phnom Penh (which I ignored – I had a great time with locals there), and b) regaled me nostalgically with stories about their rape vacations – on which they strangely didn’t bring their Taiwanese girlfriends. It was gross. These entitled white fuckers thought it was the best deal ever to pay a couple of dollars to rape enslaved, impoverished teenaged girls. Many of these girls were victims of the Khmer Rouge regime and many young girls, having lost their entire families to rape, torture and death, had nowhere to go but into prostitution. Young boys were often taken in by monks and raised in monasteries. I met a few of the latter while visiting. They were quite well off and educated given the recent history of the country and their personal situations, and had a lot of freedom to pursue ambitions. The girls? Not so much.
For a few days, I travelled with an Australian postal worker who was in the middle of admitting to himself that he was gay. So we were talking about that a lot. And while in Sihanoukville, we went out for coming-out talk over a simple dinner at a very small local eatery with a few outdoor tables along the dirt road. I noticed a good-looking white dude sitting silently near, but not with, some local people running the shop beside us. It was kind of a strange scene. He wasn’t eating. Wasn’t drinking. Wasn’t reading or talking to anyone. Just waiting. I caught his eye at one point, by accident. Couldn’t tell anything from that. There was no expression on his face. Nothing in his eyes. Just a bland, but good-looking, dude.
And then a motorcycle pulled up. A local man driving, of course. And off the back of the bike hopped a small, pretty, young girl – 15 at the most. Huge white dude stood up, wandered over for some brief negotiation. I sized it up immediately and stared at him in disgust. He did his best to ignore my gaze. Then the girl and the human stain wandered off a little ways out of sight.
The dude came back alone not long after. Could he have raped her that quickly? Well, duh, of course. Men only need about 30 seconds to get the job done in my experience. It could have just been a mouth rape. In my experience, that doesn’t take long either. And less fuss. And I figured, since he knew he was under scrutiny, he couldn’t take the time to punish her or torture her for that long as many men like to do to what they see as cheap, filthy whores. Had it been more private, he could have beaten her and raped her over a longer period of time, multiple times. Maybe killed her, if he wished. Cambodia is a very, very poor country, and white dudes, for the right price can buy whatever they want. What’s the life of an uneducated, girl child to a rich, white guy likely to go back to his girlfriend or wife in Japan or China or Australia or wherever?
The guy didn’t look my way when he got back. Probably went off to get a beer and a smoke and to relive the rape. Or possibly just to head to bed to forget the child he just abused.
Me? I had lost my appetite, and I felt both dead inside and that I wanted to gut the rapist who was sauntering back to the town. End his rape career. That’s the least he deserved, in my opinion. But I said nothing. And I didn’t say anything to the male person who had had his back to the scene the entire time. It was my private window (albeit partially curtained to the worst of the interaction) into the world of male rape holidays and the complete lack of shame and disgusting privilege that comes with having a penis.
~~
Note: In another post from this trip, I relate a conversation with a local Cambodian – a bottom of the totem pole dude (but much higher than all women) who felt just as entitled as this white guy with regard to buying female flesh – and what his thoughts of me were…
Note 2: White dudes are not alone in rape tourism, even though it is seen as a ‘Western thing’. It’s not a ‘white thing’ and it’s not a ‘Western thing’. It’s a ‘man thing’ and not limited to cocks of specific colours. Plenty of men from all over the world travel to rape. However. White dudes would do well, as the primary economic power, to stop this kind of travel and provide an example to the world. But they won’t. They’re too busy blaming white women for not doing enough to end the suffering of women of colour. Oh and white men are also too busy raping/jerking off madly to rape, of course. And they also like to mansplain that being raped for money is an empowering choice for women – if only they could do it tooooo. Yeah, right. Useless human garbage.
Note 3: I am absolutely not going to use the euphemism ‘sex tourism’, because using a prostitute isn’t sex. It’s rape. Calling it sex tourism takes away men’s responsibility for what they have freely chosen to do, and takes focus away from what girls and women have not freely chosen to do. Prostitution is very, very, very seldom a free choice (if you use the actual definition of free choice and not the liberal feminism definition).
The Waste of a Gift
The following will be really, really hard to understand if you are a man, especially a man living in a Western country run on ‘democracy’ (there has never been a true democracy, so I put that in quotes).
If you have lived in any kind of dictatorship – and by that, I mean a real dictatorship, not a ‘democracy’ that many men will call dictatorships because they don’t get to abuse or rape women as freely as they wish – or you are a member of an oppressed group, such as women, LGB, or racial minorities, then this might be easier to understand.
In the semi-free societies that result from a ‘democracy’, people have rights or what we conceived of as (morally, legally) protected categories of behaviour. There is no set list of rights, and in fact, there are rights we likely haven’t conceived of yet simply because we live in a male-dominated society that has different priorities for human life than, say, a non-sadism-based society would have. You see, rights are not innate or natural. Rather, they are symptoms or markers of a civilized society. The more advanced a society, the more numerous and more equally applied to all people these human rights are. Likewise, the less civilized or advanced a society, the fewer rights are allowed for everyone equally. In a sense, rights are a gift to be shared by all members of society, not to be taken for granted or abused.
Even within our currently semi-free societies, these rights are not equally allowed or protected. The ruling class – specifically, men, since all societies are currently male-dominated – will be more protected than other groups, and they will often take liberties in defining those rights for themselves and in restricting those rights for other groups (first and foremost, women).
The most troubling thing about the most ‘advanced’ societies that actually build rights into their governments’ legal mandates is that the most powerful people (men) don’t see rights as the communal gifts that they are. They see them as more like property or collectibles that individuals can own. And instead of using them for good or for further social and intellectual advancement of their society – which I see as the primary goal of human life – they use them to further agendas of hate, violence, dominance, oppression, and self-centred pleasure.
If one uses the right of ‘free speech’ as an example, we can see blatant abuse by the dominant class (men, of all colours). The abuses take the form of silencing the speech of women, while promoting the voices of men. Redefining oppressed groups’ (especially women’s) non-violent speech as hate and violence. Defining or including hate and violence against women (e.g., pornography) as speech, when clearly it isn’t. Using speech as a weapon, rather than, say, rhetoric, to actively and deliberately hurt groups of the least powerful people (women) who have done nothing wrong.
These instances, and common ones at that, are abuses of a gift. And it is shocking to me that when the powerful (men) are fortunate enough to have access to a gift, the first and central things they want to do with that gift is to destroy people (women) who have no desire to harm them.
Please think, men. You abuse the gifts you have, and in that way, you hurt ALL of society in many ways you probably haven’t thought of.
Conversations with Men: The Belt
I kicked off a new topic last month: conversations with men (first post in that category). These posts will consist of interactions I’ve had willingly and unwillingly with men. These are the interactions that have cumulatively led to me gradually pulling away from dubious friendships, support of, and even chance encounters in public with men. I’ve become much more selective and self-protective in deciding who stays in my life and with whom I’m willing to cross paths. Women are not always so lucky in being able to select. We often find ourselves in horrible, damaging or life-threatening situations with men who want us to know where we stand with them. Often we have no control over what happens to us.
The conversations I will recount will be both verbal and non-verbal. A lot of the time, men convey very important and dangerous messages through their non-verbal conversations with us. Words don’t need to be exchanged for information to be delivered in a loud and clear way, you see.
~~~
Rewind to 1996: Pre-9/11 Belgium. Pre-hysterical-Islamophobia-obsession. But not pre-gynophobia among Muslim men – they’ve hated women for millennia, and they have a special, violent hatred for Western/Westernized women.
I had taken a short trip to Europe prior to starting graduate school in the US. I tend to travel alone, and often meet interesting people as a result. I’d met a few travelling German women, and together, clothed conservatively in jeans, t-shirts, and our hiking boots, like most budget-travelling women, we went out to enjoy some music.
It was a lot of fun for me. Until I was unwillingly entered into a frightening conversation.
One minute, I was dancing in the crowd, and the next, I was lifted backwards off the ground by the neck. I couldn’t breathe.
After struggling for my life – no one had noticed or helped me – I managed to break free. Or had I been released…? A group of Muslim men had gotten it into their heads to engage a white whore in conversation and remind her that her life was in their hands and that she was garbage. Disposable. The ring leader had taken his belt off and put it around my neck, and jerked me backwards off the ground, dragged me over into his group in the corner – a thoroughly effective way to bring me into their conversation on male dominance, Islamic superiority, and Western whoredom. I screamed at them afterwards, once I was able to breathe again. They laughed. A good joke.
I don’t know if they had intended to kill me or whether being in public had stopped them short, and the conversation was enough for them. If I had encountered them in the street while alone, would they have raped me? Beaten me? Killed me? Like in the club, they would have gotten away with it. Especially now, they’d be home free in our post-9/11 world where associating Islam with violence is a no-no – especially violence against women.
I am terrified of men. I am terrified of religious men. I am especially terrified of Muslim men (although apparently, I subconsciously hate Christianity more). According to many liberals, me writing about this true event in my life is likely to be seen as hate speech. But what those men did to me wasn’t hate, wasn’t crime. Still isn’t. Racially-motivated crimes against women are not hate crimes.
There is a reason I stopped going to clubs after that. I realized that I had done nothing wrong. I existed. In public. I was a woman. I was white. Apparently, that is enough to sentence me to death. And the message from that conversation came through loud and clear. There is nothing I can do about it save avoid going out.
And I have complied. And I still remember the feel of that belt around my neck nearly 20 years later.
Pond Skipping and the Universal Whore
It’s my first post of October. Alas, I have been out of town and away from my keyboard. It’s my first chance to write.
I normally find it healthy to get out of China once or twice a year. China is not the greatest place to live as a non-Chinese woman. Outside of your apartment you are public property, permanently on display for every man, woman and child. And they’re not polite about it. I’ve learned to dissociate as soon as I leave my apartment, much like I have done during a pelvic exam at the gyno’s office or during a sexual assault. I pretend I’m not there. I wonder at the long-term damage to my spirit, all this dissociation.
But for a few reasons, I’d been stuck in China for about 14 months. And then I found a way to leave for about 10 days that overlapped with a Chinese holiday and the rest, well, I took a few days off work. I went to the United States, Los Angeles specifically, to visit a complicated friend. Or is it a simple friend with whom I have a complicated relationship? Dunno.
Going from China to the US – or any Western country for that matter – is always strange to me. They are such different experiences, although there are many underlying similarities. As this is a short post, I’ll just mention one thing that really stands out to me that illustrates this unique quality – the differentness and the similarity of the places.
China is distinctly not white. White people don’t rule the day-to-day business. On a global scale, that is a different matter – although I think that is starting to change. But on the ground, white people don’t have special rights, and in fact, are often denied rights and are abused in the way that foreign workers or tourists usually are anywhere without workers’ rights or human rights standards as the norm. Chinese is the dominant race and culture. Among the foreign population, most (in my city) are not white. Among the white population, white women are a rare thing. Men are always more plentiful among travellers and foreign workers. Women are just less likely to work abroad unless they come with a partner or have a personal well of confidence. So if you see a white woman, it is an uncommon thing, indeed.
Los Angeles, on the other hand, is distinctly multiracial and multicultural. White is still the dominant race power-wise, and more specifically and pointedly, white men rule.
Yet, in both places, white women are the universally-accepted whores.
When I walk around in the very, very non-foreign-populated community in which I live in China, you will see large poster advertisements in the commercial areas of white women in lingerie or in sexy poses for some stupid product or other. It is offensive and disconcerting. Most people have never seen a live white person, but might be faced day-to-day with a larger than life advertisement of a scantily-clad white woman. And then they run into me. How do they see me? I have first-hand knowledge of the poor treatment that can result. Going by the behaviour of some of them, I can only imagine they think I am public property, especially if they are watching American films and television in addition to viewing misogynist advertisements.
While in L.A., even in my friend’s upper middle class neighbourhood, there were plenty of billboards and advertisements along the commercial streets. And most of them were of nearly-naked white women selling all sorts of shit from construction boots to gym memberships. There were a couple of new, highly-offensive and scary ones that had been put up since I was last there. I’ve never understood the logic of what is done in advertisements. It can’t just be catering to men’s penises. The ads are so hateful, I can only imagine that they are also designed to remind women of what their place is and the fact that they will never truly measure up. You are all whores. You need to have this skin colour. And of course, you need to look like this. Why would we want to be whores, though? Why do women accept this pronouncement? These ads?
For some reason, white women have become the target of many, men and women, alike. Women, in general, do make the easiest targets, and white women are easier to attack than the real culprits – white men. They are the cannon fodder. The ones white men put in front to take the heat, to shoulder all the blame. And because white women are part of the sex class, they become the whore all women should both aspire to and hate at the same time. But the thing is, white women don’t have real power. Forget what some dumb fun-feminist tells you about empowerment through nudity and sucking cock. They still have less power than all men of all colours. Always have. They are still victimized by the lowest men on the male hierarchy. A homeless, mentally ill man of colour can terrorize any woman on the street and get away with it. He can even scream racism at her as she cowers from his male threat, not his race. The woman can’t escape. She just needs to ‘relax’, ‘take it easy’ – she is the privileged one, right? The public and law will support him over her. He is justified. As long as women are objects, they have no power. As long as we have to witness our naked bodies on display for entertainment and marketing, we will never be free or be safe or have power or be taken seriously. Those billboards hurt.
If your only rejoinder is that ‘sex sells’, well, guess what? None of this is sex. It is debasement, objectification, exploitation, and subjugation. Of a class of people.
It’s not ‘sex sells’. It’s ‘sexual slavery sells’. And it sells everywhere in the world, thanks to men of all colours, led by the white boys. The solution is not to include more women of colour in the public nudie parade. It is to take the group-specific sexploitation out of entertainment and marketing entirely.
I’d like to live in a place where advertisements (if they must exist at all) are limited to the product and its qualities. No whores needed. In China, in the US, anywhere, everywhere.
My First Week of the Semester or White Whore Put in Her Place by Male Students
As I’ve mentioned before, I am a university instructor of writing, academic English, and general speaking classes in China. I’m 43. I don’t practise femininity, although everyone easily knows I’m a woman cuz I have tits. You’d think that I’d become a little more invisible because of my age and androgynous clothing, but sadly, that is not the case. I’m reminded on a daily basis that I’m a woman and that I exist as sub-human, a sexual object, and there primarily for male use.
When you teach in China, unless you are teaching at an all-female school or are teaching non-science or non-technology majors, you are stuck with classrooms full of dudes. Female students still face many barriers to entry into these ‘male professions’ here, and of course, China is missing millions upon millions of girls because of selective abortion resulting from the One Child Policy. I teach at a technology university, so you know what I’m stuck with. Wall-to-wall dickitude.
Last semester, I was fortunate to have a lot of English-major classes (almost completely female), tourism classes (female-dominated, male minority) and business grad students (equal gender divide). I knew I should cherish that time, and that I would be unlikely to be so fortunate again. Having predominantly female students is a very different experience from having a predominance of male students. It’s a more pleasant, non-aggressive, and intellectual experience. You get more questions about real issues. And all of this matters even more when you’re a female instructor trying to preserve your safety, sanity and dignity.
After such a positive semester of academics and womanhood, this new semester began in stark contrast. Aside from having to tell classrooms full of young men to shut the fuck up and listen every five seconds like they were out-of-control toddlers, misogyny reared its ugly immediately.
First, there were endless comments from the males about what a shame it was that there ‘weren’t enough girls’ in their classes. (I think there were five women in total out of 140 students.) Now, the concern wasn’t because these young men wanted to see equality in science and technology, or that they wanted to do something to rectify China’s history of gynocide, or that they wanted more opportunities for women, in general.
Simply, they wanted more and convenient access to pussy.
To all men in the world, these Chinese boys included, women exist to be looked at and used sexually. So, I wasn’t fooled. These privileged dudes weren’t feeling sorry for women. They were feeling sorry for themselves. It was all about their entitlement.
I watched the faces of the few girls in the class when these comments were made amid the snickers of fellow male classmates. The young women’s faces reminded me of those being victimized in porn or in violent scenes in film/tv. Checked out. Blank. Knowing full well they had no escape from the misogyny of the four years of their degrees or the lifetime following graduation. Knowing that speaking up and defending themselves would unleash the hate and violence that lives in all males. They were trapped and according to Chinese culture, had to accept their fate as objects. It is rare that women speak up for themselves in China, and I’ve only ever witnessed it in one-one-one discussions or in my classes where women predominate. I feel for these young women, and I’ll stand for them as much as I can in class.
And then there was the misogyny directed towards me.
Keep in mind that both elders and teachers are *generally* still given respect in China – unlike in the West, where both older people and teachers are constantly criticized and regularly disrespected, even by small children. So when you see disrespect in China, it is a big fucking deal.
Respect in China, I’ve learned over the years, is meted out differently to men and women. As a woman, and especially as a foreign w̶h̶o̶r̶e̶ woman, I can be easily and justifiably disrespected. And I am constantly disrespected. Out of three classes I conducted during this first week alone, there were three notable instances of disrespect that no man, Chinese or foreign, would experience. Chinese women are not on par with men in this culture either, but I guarantee they are not on the receiving end of unwanted touching or solicitation in a university classroom. So upon first meeting of their university instructor, my classes of dudes gifted me with the following:
- My ownership status was questioned. In an introductory exercise meant to get students thinking about asking questions, I had my surname put on the board. They were meant to come up with: “What is your family/last name?” But no one thought of that. One dude immediately came up with “What is your husband’s name?” (I have to justify my non-married AND childless status every goddamn semester. My male counterparts don’t.) Instead of a justifiable, but unprofessional “FUCK YOU” directed at the student, I decided instead to let the boy know that the name was mine (technically, my rapist, wife-beater grandfather’s…) and that neither was I married nor did women ever need a husband. The class laughed. Of course they would. Women’s words and needs can’t be taken seriously.
- One male student tried to hug me. China is not a cross-sex touchy culture. And you definitely don’t touch strangers, even of the same sex. And no Chinese student over the age of 5 would EVER attempt to touch a teacher, especially on the first day of class. But I am a foreign woman. Thanks to misogynistic Western media (primarily American film and television) and thanks to Chinese misogyny, white women (not black or hispanic or other women of colour) are seen as sluts who are not only obsessed with sex, but who are open to being touched and fucked by every single interested male on the planet. “No” isn’t in our vocabulary. ‘Sex in the City’ is frequently watched here, and provides a model of the typical white, Western woman as public fuck toilet. As a woman who is personally well-acquainted with assault in many countries, I am hyper-vigilant about men, regardless of colour, when they are near me. Nevertheless, I’m frequently surprised by men trying to objectify me, touch me or otherwise assault me in this country. When it happens in the classroom, I get really pissed off because I am not some random, nameless stranger men can rationalize abusing by ‘othering’ me, but a teacher who, according to culture, should be automatically given a modicum of respect. One of my quite young (24), white, female colleagues has told me that the sexual disrespect from males in her classes is quite frequent. She doesn’t know how to deal with it, she admits. I would have thought that being 43, authoritative, very confident, and not overly thin or super attractive would have done the trick, but alas, it appears no woman can escape misogyny. I don’t have a lot of advice for her other than to maintain as much professional distance as possible. She isn’t paid to be either their friend or fuck toy.
- I was asked either as a joke or in seriousness (I’m still not sure, to be honest) in front of a class of 40+ young men whether I could go on a date one of the student’s room mates. I can’t even imagine such a disgusting and disrespectful question being asked publicly of a female prof in a Western university classroom setting. So experiencing this in a Chinese classroom was an incredibly huge insult. Again, no Chinese teacher or foreign male teacher would be so disrespected here.
So in short, that was my first week of teaching. I’ve accepted that every time I leave my apartment, I am at risk. I’m constantly ogled, sometimes assaulted by local men and laughed at when I vocally oppose the assault. But even in my classroom, I’m disrespected and have to be very careful about the actions of my male students towards me.
A white, British, male colleague of mine can’t for the life of him understand why his health thrives in China, but mine is actually worse than when I live in the West. (I suffer chronic depression and anxiety, and I get sick frequently as a result.) He is a white male, the ultimate symbol of power in the world. White men here, as everywhere, are on the top of the heap. Unless rich, they do have fewer rights than Chinese men, of course, simply because working foreigners have fewer rights than say, Chinese tourists in our own countries, but foreign men can walk around in safety in China.
I, on the other hand, have discovered through years of experience in China, that I represent the universal whore – the white woman. Valued for skin colour, seen as animals rather than humans because of our varying eye and hair colours, viewed as sexually insatiable and omni-available thanks to American entertainment, and not taken seriously in any professional way whatsoever. My male acquaintance and I have had very different experiences. Women of other colours are also treated very poorly, but in different ways. Race and sex interact in different ways in different parts of the world, but one thing you can count on – women ALWAYS lose.
An Easy-To-Use Measure of Talent
As someone with an advanced degree in psychometrics, I often think about the ways in which we go about assessing things. It was how assessment is misused and abused that got me into the field in the first place, although its applications are many and are used formally and informally by one and all every day.
Some people of the more intellectual or academic sort use formal assessment methods, but are so burdened with bias (especially that derived from privilege), that even applying rigourously developed quantitative methods go horribly wrong once it comes to interpretation of analyses.
Most laypeople rely upon subjective ways of determining something’s value (on whatever scale is relevant), and in many cases, this is problematic. For example, I’ll never give a male friend’s assessment of another dude any credence whatsoever because of his guaranteed blindness due to male privilege. I speak from way too much unfortunate experience. Guys often respect each other, but most dudes hate women on some level. So a male friend’s dude-friend may be ‘cool’ among dudes, but a complete fucking rapist or rape apologist when among women.
Honestly, I like the idea of parsimony. If I can find a simple and quick way to figure out if something or someone is worth my increasingly precious time (ladies, you likely won’t come to start valuing your time until you get older and will waste almost uncountable hours on the bombastic sex), I cherish and hone it.
Given that I’m in between teaching semesters, and I have hours upon hours to devote to entertainment of one sort or another and to copious reading and writing, I’ve been putting some thinking into how not to waste my time. Essentially, how do I assess whether what I’m viewing, reading or listening to is worth my time?
As my commitment to radical feminism develops and deepens, I find there is little to view, read or listen to that has much value. There are very few women – never mind radical feminists – that produce entertainment or ‘art’. The male viewpoint predominates, and attempts by women to break into entertainment are often thwarted, especially if they aren’t willing to destroy the existence of women, and ultimately themselves, in the process. As a result, it is impossible to watch a film or television program that isn’t peppered with misogynistic slurs and insults, increasingly horrifying and glorified sexual violence, empornulated female characters, and really damaging, backwards, and confusing ‘moral lessons’. Truly good books that don’t trigger my ‘sausage alert’ with sexist language (he/mankind/man) and misogynistic stereotypes are few and far between. And even documentaries are heavily dickish. Most art isn’t really that inspiring. And is output from the past much better or worse than that of the present? Same shit, different seasoning, different era.
Sooooo, I have come up with a basic, little formula/criterion that I want to test out. And it’ll work with material produced during any era.
If you have to rely upon denigrating or exploiting women as the sex/subhuman class in some way in order to achieve success in your work, you don’t really have talent.
I’d argue that 99.9% of the work men have produced throughout time and including that of today lacks talent based on this criterion. And honestly, much of the shit that is produced today is so unoriginal, that the only thing that makes it any money is the Tits and Ass it exploits. So if you’re an artiste or a createur in some way (including you fun feminist types), put your s̶h̶i̶t̶e̶ work-of-art to the test. Have you relied upon sexual stereotypes, anti-woman slurs, sexay sexual violence or outright sexual exploitation in order to get it some attention? If you can say ‘no’ and it isn’t a defensive, knee-jerk sort of ‘no’, then I’ll take a look with a skeptical and critical eye.
And be honest with yourself, for fuck’s sake. Exploiting women is fucking shameful. And fucking unoriginal. And fucking boring. And sadly, too fucking easy these days.
Art is supposed to teach us something. Make us better as a society. If what is being produced today is any indication of the social/intellectual/creative/ethical direction our world is going in, it is certainly not forward motion.
Story Ending Never 
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