Category Archives: porn culture

It’s been silent here on the blog….

…because I’ve been working on a memoir, finished that now, and now an anthology.  I’ve started a new job as a director of a feminist program.  And I’ve been enjoying myself, doing some of my favorite things.  Been pretty busy. However, the core reason I have not been blogging is the following:

Several months ago, I became overwhelmed with the pornophiles and misogynists visiting the site looking for porn of women and girls being raped by horses (see previous post).  Although none of them ever posted comments, the search terms in my “administration window” revealed that dozens of men arrive weekly at this site looking for “lesbian horse rape,” “horse woman sex,” and the like.  Because I am a researcher and lecturer on porn, I did check a few of these sites out.  Although I had felt I had already seen some of the most violent pornography on the internet, I was wrong.  And now I have these images in my mind associated with “Gray Horse Woman.”

“Gray Horse Woman” is a name that is important to me.  Therefore, my visceral response was not just political but also personal.  They were raping my name.  However, I did not want to abandon my name because they had raped it.  So I struggled with what to do.

I have decided that I am going to rename my blog.  This will include changing the name in the blog address.  Those of you who are followers should, I believe, still receive notice of my posts.  Others, however, might lose track of me for a while.

I have to ponder the new name.  When I make a decision, I will post that name and the new blog address before I click the buttons that make it all happen.

The rapists will not shut me up.


Respite

I’ve been working on a book, a memoir, and that has pretty much absorbed my writing energy at this time.  Also, I recently had a discussion with a friend and fellow radical feminist activist who is also working on her memoir, and we concurred that it is important to step back from the world a bit while delving into one’s personal narratives of child sexual abuse and such.  Therefore, I haven’t been blogging much.  Obviously.  It’s been a few weeks.

Nevertheless, I keep coming across stuff that makes me think I should get this up on gray horse woman.

So I am just going to pop a couple of things up here for regular readers and stoppers-by to check out.  I’ll leave no commentary, although I’ve got oodles to say, and leave it up to you folks to chat about, if you like.  Truly, it would be lovely to hear from you, because it’s been mostly spammers and men looking for women being raped by horses who have been dropping by while I haven’t been actively writing.

First is this gem I grabbed from a chapter summary on Amazon.com from a book titled Taking Sides: Clashing Views in Gender.

Then there is this lovely extension of our porn culture:

College Sugar Daddy website

(Now, back to my book.)


Jerking off

I rarely enter into the world of the sitcom.  However, I do check in occasionally, as it is a way to monitor the status of our pornified culture. Today, I watched, back-to-back, the first two episodes of ABC’s Work It.*  The show is a triumph of “sex-positive” feminism and its ideological love affair with patriarchy.  Alternatively, it is a triumph of patriarchy over feminisms of resistance.

The following is one snippet.  Here, the wife-mother laughs along with the husband-father as he jokes about masturbating in the bathroom to pictures of women whose only consent is that they are simply women.  (In rape culture, being a woman is considered consent in itself to be objects of men’s sexual release.)

Woman/wife/mother:  “Say, Lee, why do I keep finding my women’s magazines in our bathroom.”

Teen daughter: “Oh gross, Dad. Get some real porn.”

(canned laughter)

Man/husband/father:  “No, no, no!  That’s not why….okay, that’s why.”

Wife:  “Seriously?”

Husband:  “Yeah, there’s some pretty hot stuff in there.”

(canned laughter)

Wife:  “Oh, really, this does it for you:  (reading from magazine)  How to minimize your broad back.”

Husband (eyes closed, faking ecstasy):  “Oh, yeah, baby, say it slower….”

(wife laughs—canned laughter)

The daughter, however, is not yet as sex-positively enlightened as her mother, and reflects a more traditional—and equally problematic—perspective.  She only wants her dad to masturbate to pictures of prostituted women.  She, like her mother, accepts dad’s predatorial sexuality, but desires that it be focused on a specific class of women—one that does not include her.

What a great new comedy.  I laughed and laughed.

(put canned laughter here)

_______________________________

*I was also curious about Work It for its mock “trans” plot line.  Those aspects of the show are also extremely problematic, on so many levels. 

On colonization and sex radicalism

The colonized are truly colonized when the only path they can see out of their colonization leads to the colonizer’s definition of heaven. — D.A. Clarke

Sex radicals do the pornographers’ dirty work…when women defend pornography and prostitution, they attach themselves to a politics that hates them and negates their existence.  Sex radicals are not rebels…it is radical in every sense of the word when women stand against pornography and prostitution.  — Christine Stark


The making of an angry woman

On the day of the anniversary of the Montreal femicide, on the day that I notice that the number one search terms bringing traffic to my site are those looking for women being raped by horses, on the day I come across this on the Radical Resolution blog,

this just makes me angrier.

Go figure.


Lesbian rape “documentary”

I came across this video, She Stole My Voice, while trying to find some research on lesbian sexual violence.  Although it was released two years ago, I couldn’t find anything on feminist blogs critiquing it.  But it was reviewed on a men’s rights website as “utterly ground-breaking.”

This “award-winning” “documentary” is pornography.  No, I have not watched the entire movie (and I don’t intend to put any money in the pockets of the filmmakers to do so), but the film’s trailers show rape narratives juxtaposed with pornified reenactments.  The highly popular thirty-two outtakes on YouTube—retitled variously as “lesbian seduction,” “sex porno lesbians,” and “sister incest hot sex girls pussy”—confirm that this is a porno flick.  Pro-rape commentary on the YouTube videos include:

In my opinion, anything hot/sexy isn’t a crime. And if the *ahem* ‘victim’ whines that it is, well then they just didn’t appreciate that the lesbian rapist found them sexy.

Regardless, the filmmakers attempt to maintain the following false distinction between their film and pornography:

There are almost no depictions of it [lesbian rape] anywhere. The only video versions of lesbian rape that exist right now are found in pornography, in which the “victim” invariably starts to enjoy the rape. 

(Note the use of victim placed in quotes in both excerpts above…..)

Clearly, the filmmakers did not do their research.  I have.  A distinguishing characteristic of rape pornography is victims pleading, crying, and cowering.  That’s exactly the kind of pornography that turns a rapist on.

This film deserves the full censure of the community of women.  Lesbian sexual violence does need to be discussed and understood.  But this is a film for rapists.  It is not an advocacy film.


Shake those boobies

The three of us are flopped down in a restaurant booth.  One of us is eating a veggie burger, another is drinking a beer.  I am wishing I had one or the other, but the grill is now closed and I’ll be driving home soon.

We’ve ducked out of the LGBTQ fundraiser to commiserate.   We are trying to sort out the gender intensity of the evening.  A drag king show followed by a burlesque strip show.  Applause always louder the more gender correctness each performer achieved.

I was enjoying the drag king show at first.  Hadn’t seen one before.  It was a new group, giving its first public performance, and it started out raw.  Stage nerves, I’m sure.  But as the hour moved along, each of the five kings got more and more into her character.  It was campy.  It was fun.

Then one of the performers started to get really good.  She was becoming a certain kind of he.  He had narrow hips and a white pair of pants tightly stretched over an artificial penis.  He pumped the air with his fists. He thrust his hips as if he were pounding someone who was subordinate, someone on her or his hands and knees. He was turning into someone I really could not like.

But the crowd roared, urging him on to purer and purer masculinity.  And he got better and better.  It was micocosmic mirror of everyday gender socialization.  Do it right, and your parents love you.  Do it wrong, and you get beat up on the playground.  So you do it right.

While the burlesque was getting set up, I stepped out.  It was a standing room only crowd, and I had two hours of wall flowering in, without a wall to lean against.  I found a place to sit a while.  When I returned, the burlesque was in its third act.

I had seen this burlesque troupe before, in a coffee shop.  It had been a bit tamer there, especially the crowd. The dancer was just teasing her way down to the final strip, which would reveal two coin-sized pasties that she would twirl with the momentum of her spinning breasts.  The dancer played the part of, or was in truth, the perfectly socialized and properly gendered straight woman–stripping down to her skivvies and shaking those boobies to the enthusiastic encouragement of a primarily LGBTQ crowd.

A friend sidled up to me.  “Are you experiencing cognitive dissonance?” she asked.

“Oh, god, yes.”

“Do you think anyone else is?”

I pointed out mutual friend in the audience.  Five minutes later, we are in the restaurant.

My friend with the burger offers, “Remember, this is the 500-year plan.”  Whenever we talk about gender justice, racism, and transforming the world, she usually alludes to “the 500-year plan,” the time it may take to dismantle the oppressions embedded in our cultures.  Sometimes she sounds hopeful, as if she is comforted to know that it will change.  At other times, like tonight, her voice sounds more like, “Oh, crap.  This is going to take 500 years.”

My friend with the beer, who works at the rape crisis center in our small city, says, “There were 35 children raped this month.”  She says it because she knows how it’s all connected–how dramatic gender divisions and their hierarchies of power relate to predators and victims.  The other two of us get this, too.  We don’t even need to discuss her comment.  It’s not a non-sequitur.

The burlesque has ended and the floor has been cleared for dancing.  My friends head back to the dance, but I’m good for the night.  As I walk back to the car, the wind is blustery and feels like the impending winter, sharp and sorrowful.  500 years.  That’s a long, long time.


Occupy Hot Chicks

So, you’ve probably seen it.  The video of the “hot chicks” of the Occupy Wall Street movement.  Put together because two men, having an obviously politically rich conversation about the movement, swooned:

“Wow, seeing all those super smart hot chicks at the protest makes me want to be there.”

“Hmmm… Yeah, let’s go with that.” (see vimeo.com/30476100)

The video, full of close-ups of lips, eyes, necks, and women sweeping their hair back in slow motion, frames women’s role in the movement as attractant–or reward–for men’s participation.

Sure, women are given some voice in the video.  But, truthfully, it’s not the purpose of the video.  It’s just a little coloring to give the illusion of substance.  The video, after all, is about “hot chicks.”

Several years ago, I gave an unflinching anti-porn presentation for a local organization.  A few years later, I met a man who had been at that presentation who said he had really been impressed.  However, a bit more conversation revealed that what had impressed him was my “attractive hands” and that he hadn’t heard a thing I had said.

Do the men in the Occupy Wall Street movement know why women are participating in the protests?  Do they have any understanding why, as 51% of the 99%, with political needs and interests that do not always intersect with men’s, women are involved as women?

These are important questions.  Yes, the mantra is We are the 99%, which sounds seductively inclusive.  However, women have participated in many, many movements only to find after the dust settled that men didn’t have women’s equality in mind as part of the change.  But the men did sure enjoy having those pretty things around.