Saturday, 30 January 2016

The Worst Thing You Can Say To A Man.


That's it.

No coming into my space. No coming through my door. No coming into my vagina. No coming into a movement designed specifically for women and not for you - due to your penis. 

You are saying "NO" to his penis. He's likes his penis a lot.

(Sometimes he pretends he hasn't got a penis to get in. I know right? They are a bit fucking obvious. What with them being pretty much shaped like a rocket and all and doing all the standing up straight and exploding everywhere.) 

But lets not make this about the transgender issue. Let's focus and assume that men have a penis and own everything because of it. You know. Like common sense and eyes tell us they do.

Here is an eye is a penis....

sorry... wrong button.... clumsy fingers... HERE is a penis.... 

Women... lets keep our eye on both those penes.

Men are used to walking the world unchecked and seeing women as just so many doors for them to walk through, rugs for them to walk over and backs upon which they should build domestic and business empires. They are dinosaurs and they have created the swamp. I do hope history repeats itself or that they clean up their act.

There is a new show on Netflix called Jessica Jones. Jessica is a Superheroine. She has a dark and troubled past history of abuse featuring a very special kind of villain. Her abuser, a man named Kilgrave, (played by David Tennant) is the epitome of male entitlement. He uses mind control to make people do exactly what he wants. 

The domestic violence metaphor is not at all hard to decipher. Tennant plays him perfectly. He is charming, handsome (if you like that sort of thing), witty, cultured, well-dressed etc etc. The fantasy element barely conceals the parallels with a real life abusive man. 

The moment that has stuck with me is where he walks up to a door and simply says "you'd like to invite me in" to the man who answers. The man does so and in he walks. He does this in order to stalk and manipulate Jessica who has escaped him. 

Extract of his commands here....

Last week a woman I know told me of her abusive ex entering her house. He had simply sauntered in when collecting their child for a visit. He wandered though her rooms giving her unwanted advice and casually glancing at her things though he still owned all of them and her. Finally ... and I am not joking... he requested that she make him a sandwich. She did not. She felt violated and angry but often continues a calm and quiet relationship for the sake of her child and because she has grown used to appeasing him. When he returned from the visit he walked straight in uninvited behind her child and the woman was startled by his assumption that her home was still open to him. 

The next day she texted him that he should not come into her home uninvited. She says it was very polite as she always is with him. 

He texted back a vicious death threat - thinly veiled. I have seen it but won't publish it as it is disgusting and extreme in language. She was shocked. She's shown it to a few feminists and hardened as we are as a group... we are all shocked. When she returned to her home later the next day she found that "someone" had tried to break in. She did what she has never done before ... took our advice and help...and called the police. They acted. They warned him that he has no rights to access her property or right to contact her and that he will be issued an harassment order if it happens again. 

The point is this. No matter how calmly and sensibly and rightly you tell an abusive man "no" ... he does not think you have the right to say it. He may need to kill you for saying it. He may come in anyway. 

Extend this to feminism. Men think they have a right to come in. They demand it. They command it. They declare themselves feminists. They get t-shirts. They no-platform actual feminists. They declare that we are not women because there is no such thing as women. Men are barging through our doors unchecked. Liberal feminists are opening the doors so widely for them, and so often, that these days there is little need for barging. 

Let's get some decent fucking locks and let's start saying "no"more often. 

The men I love..... and yes there are some... ask if they can come in. They fucking ask. With my home... if you have a key to the door ... assume it is your home.

With my feminism.... if you have a penis assume it is not. 

Disclaimer - George Osborne's penis was not harmed during the making of this blog. Probably.

Sunday, 10 January 2016

A Roof Of Her Own - Woman Know Your Place.

(The following probably didn't happen in the 'Troubled Family' households of George Osborne or David Cameron. Today or any Sunday. Probably)

 George Osborne was sitting quietly at home minding his own erection and bothering no one at all except Nameless & Replaceable, his trusty valet, happily pondering the fact that he had no moral conscience at all to worry about... when suddenly the phone rang. 

It was Bestie. 

Cameron : Gee Gee. A word. 

Osborne : Bestie. I am currently basking in the glow of my own hangover leaving, considering a snifter of gin before a bath and definitely on the cusp of thinking up something atrocious to fuck up the poor..... please don't kill this buzz man. Don't tell me Isis McCrisis are coming to tea at Chequers. It's Sunday dude. I want to eat a duck, snort a line and shoot a clay servant.

Cameron : But Gee Gee. There is a real problem with housing and you have said you will sort it.

Osborne : Did I though Bests. Did I? Have you got any proof outside of The Guardian?

Cameron : Hansard Gee Gee. You always forget about Hansard. 

Osborne : I hate that book. Does anyone read it I ask you? 

Cameron : You promised to build 135,000 affordable homes. 

Osborne : Tequila. Be the death of me. 

Cameron : The poor need places to live Gee Gee. 

Osborne : Ok. Ok. Give me a minute. 

Cameron : You mean you didn't already have a plan?

Osborne : Well. I did. I was starting on it. 

Cameron : Well?

Osborne : Wendy Houses. 

Cameron : Gee Gee.....

Osborne : Sheds then. They're cheap. 

Cameron : Gideon George Osborne. Sometimes I honestly think you aren't concentrating properly on the task in hand. 

Osborne : Look ... what is actually wrong with where the poor live now in your opinion?

Cameron : The housing is horrible and they take drugs in the en-suites and throw big bits of concrete off the top and there is a shortage of sustainably harvested oak flooring. Or something. Sam Cam was telling me she struggles to get interior design contracts in ANY of them!

Osborne : Dude. The only thing that bothers me is why they have so much space to do all that in. Prime land those various bloody London council apartments are perched on. Land on which luxury properties at millions of pounds a pop would be built. Properties our Chinese and Saudi friends would be keen to give me loot for. 

Cameron : Loot you can spend on lowering the deficit! Genius!

Osborne : Don't talk wet you big fannywipe! I meant loot I can shuffle off into "infrastructure projects" or as I prefer to call them "profitable contracts for my mates". 

Cameron: But where would the poor go then?

Osborne: The North. Never to be seen again. We have no responsibility for what happens in The North. Core Cities. Northern Powerhouses. Now that was vodka-based genius. You know what else is twisting my tits don't you?

Cameron : Hilary Benn? Girl's name?

Osborne : No. Well...yes. He needs a kicking. But... women. Women are the problem.

Cameron : Proceed.

Osborne : Well. They won't fucking stay put will they? It's like they've never heard of family loyalty.

Cameron : I'm not following. 

Osborne : Well. Feminists say that women are disadvantaged economically as soon as they have children. They are unable to function competitively in the job market, childcare is expensive, they are sometimes trapped within abusive and even violent relationships whilst being economically dependent on their abusers. They sometimes say that we prevent them from escaping with damaging and ill-considered schemes like reforming the CSA and forcing them to negotiate for their entitlement to financial support with the men who have abused and manipulated them. We trap them within violent relationships by withdrawing funding for refuges. We cut benefits to the bone and specifically undermine women's attempts to improve their lives and their children's lives by removing Sure Start centres and the like. Feminists often hit the nail right on the fucking head despite those bloody t-shirts men keep wearing and the way we have popped in a load of "male feminists" to derail and distract them. Still those fucking women keep escaping from their men. We need to keep them in their bloody place. 

Cameron: What can I do?

Osborne: Well. Far be it from me to suggest that one of us goes Full Maggie Jacket on their ass but we could start banging on about 'Family Values' again.

Cameron: Oooh. Now you're talking. I can do that. I have beautiful children I adore and one I still grieve for... but I don't like to mention it too often. 

Osborne: You also left one on its own in a pub. You don't often mention that at all.

Cameron: Gee Gee. What are your kids called? 

Osborne: [Thinks... ] Freedom and Fluke?

Cameron: Liberty and Luke!

Osborne: So close...

Cameron: Right. So the plan is. I bang on about 'Troubled Families' again? What about "Parenting Lessons"?

Osborne: Yeah. Nice one Soft Lad. Give the women vouchers for counselling or something. We could call it 'Take A Punch For A Free Lunch' or something. Y'know as long as they don't start leaving men and needing more money for everything.... including housing. We can't have all these women living all over the place happy, safe and without men. It costs me money. They take up space in the cheap housing market. They take up jobs. If they all stay at home, economically disempowered it will be a big help for me and my 135,000 disposable Wendy Houses. Sorry... affordable homes. 

Cameron: I love you Gee Gee.

Osborne: I'll believe that when I see Boris's head on a stick above the tower and not until. 

[George put down the phone and smiled softly at Nameless and Replaceable, who knew they were going to "play house" and he was going to be "getting a car in his garage" at some point soon.]