One D at a Time

An Important Question

People really asked this.

Modern-Day Flappers

It's Funny 'Cause It's True

Honesty Is the Breast Policy

20 Things That Make Feminists Angry

I write for a site that technically isn't feminist, but has that kind of a reputation, and thus, attracts that kind of a commenter. The overwhelming amount of varying opinions can sometimes feel like a PC prison. Don't get me wrong, I love my job, and I'm lucky to be doing what I really want. But, working in the trenches of feminist discourse day in and day out over a period of several years, can be tiring—and being in the trenches of anything on the internet can be demoralizing. Sometimes it all makes me hate internet feminism so much that I literally daydream about vacuuming in high heels while pregnant and smoking a cigarette.

But I've come to the realization that feminism on the internet is kinda like a queef: cunty, noisy, a little embarrassing, but ultimately amusing. And frankly, I'd rather have a vagina with air trapped in it, then not have a vagina at all. Which is to say, I'd rather have feminism with imperfections, than not have feminism at all.

So, wanna know what gets a modern feminist's panties in a bunch? Welcome to my home:

1.) Pit Bull Discrimination
"This is why I get REALLY FUCKING IRATE when people give their UNINFORMED opinions about pit bulls. The ignorance hurts animals.People hear some of the myths being spewed all over comments sections like this and they make up their minds based on that misinformation and prejudice. As a result, people vote for breed bans, refuse to allow pit bulls at dog parks (yep), and refuse to give them a chance when adopting, among other things. It's not harmless to preach nonsense about bully breeds."

Perez Hilton Thinks He Knows What Women Want

Perez Hilton is launching a women's site, CocoPerez, on August 14, which one of my bosses (a gay man) believes will be in direct competition with the site I work for. Perhaps I'm in the minority here, but I do not subscribe to the notion that gay men intrinsically "get" women, know what's best for women, or are the authority on what women should be wearing. (In fact, I think that gay men are actually the most to blame for many of the problems in the fashion industry, like the absence of womanly curves on the runway, and the hideous, figure-assaulting trend that is the tent dress, which no women who have tits, and no straight men who have an appreciation for tits, have any use for.)

From the minute I heard that Perez was launching a women's site, I was not at all concerned about him "stealing" our audience, because, even if some chick will be writing it, his brand is based on vacuous frivolity with a lack of insight, and commentary that could give a girl an eating disorder. Just like mainstream women's magazines! Which is to say, CocoPerez might end up being wildly successful. However, this was exactly the kind of thing that (thinking) women are sick of, and what we, at Jezebel, set out not to do, so if anything, his new site will give us fodder for our own posts, rather than competition for page views.

But ultimately, the best indication that Perez Hilton has no idea what women want is the ponce and circumstance of CocoPerez's logo (click to view larger):

His body is the central figure!

How one out-of-touch woman is hurting women.

I have to give it up at least a little bit to Linda Hirshman, for her essay about "The Trouble with Jezebel," because she made me cry and she made me laugh and I don't think I've experienced such a rapid cycling of emotions in many, many menstrual cycles. And just like mood swings during really bad PMS, Hirshman's piece doesn't make much sense. That's when I started laughing. To talk about "the state of feminsim today" by using examples from one, two, three, four years ago? That is actually the problem with "the state of feminism today": Focusing on bullshit from the past that we can't change instead of trying to understand the way that things are right now. Because how can anyone nitpick about the way things should be, when they don't even have a grasp on how they really are?

Putting a Face to a Crime

When I saw the police photo of Rihanna taken after Chris Brown (allegedly) attacked her, I said, "Oh shit" out loud. I work from home, alone, on the internet all day. When I think something's funny, I don't laugh. I type "haha" or "lol" into iChat. When something pisses me off, makes me sad, excites me, confuses me; my emotions and my reactions to them remain equally virtual. But my response to Rihanna's injuries was visceral. And I immediately recognized the value in that.

My mind is in my laptop for long stretches of time, which causes a disconnect—from my own body and others. It results in desensitization and, more importantly, a lack of face-to-face human interaction. After a while, you forget how you got there, and why you never mind to stay. Facing Rihanna's bruises humanized the situation for me. I no longer felt disconnected.

I was late to the party on the whole pre-Grammy altercation, due to a self-imposed exile to Mexico in an attempt to escape from relationship problems of my own. With no internet, television or tabloids, I didn't even hear about it until several days later, at which point, I didn't care. I thought it was just some more celebrity bullshit and purposely didn't read any reports or gossip on it, assuming they'd be speculative, inaccurate, and invasive of something that seemed to be a private matter, believing that nobody really knows what goes on within a relationship unless they're one of the two people in it.

I hate the idea of jumping to the automatic conclusion that women are either victims or potential victims. It implies that we're weak, unable to take care of ourselves, and need men to protect us from…men? Without knowing any factual details or the extent of either parties' injuries (beyond conjecture)—and knowing my own behavior when fighting—I didn't want to assume that Chris Brown was evil and that Rihanna was completely innocent, which I'm sure that some people did, based solely on gender. I particularly didn't want to do that, so long as Rihanna wasn't saying much about it.

But, you know what they say about what a picture says…

I Drink Because It's Fun, Not Because It's "Feminist"

Have you seen this retardation in New York magazine? Apparently women are drinking more these days. And apparently it has something to do with feminism. And women like me and my coworkers represent that kind of feminism. According to dickish comments on some blogs, because we drink (sometimes in excess) and openly discuss it, we are ruining feminism.

When the fuck are people going to understand that what Moe, and I and the rest of Jezebel do—when we write about—is anthropological, not ideological?

The fact that women like to knock a few back is not a pro-feminism statement. Sure, it may be a result of feminism, but not, in itself, a feminist act. (Personally, I don't drink to fight sexism. I drink to forget about it.) However, making the argument that now that women are lucky enough to have the freedoms earned by earlier feminists, we should forever be indebted to them and pay homage by being responsible and striving for social perfection is, in fact, an anti-feminist statement. Because we're not "lucky" to have such rights. We're owed them. And so, what, now that we have them we better behave?

It's the same fucking thing that feminists/women have always faced: being told "you can't." But now it's been switched up—within our own ranks—to "you can, but you shouldn't," as this smart lady pointed out. So who exactly is the Aunt Tom here? Us for the sad state of feminism at happy hour? Or them for trying to tack on so many other issues to this movement that it's so heavy it's stuck right where it is?

The article discussed the "Thinking and Drinking" thing that Moe and I did, and published a private iChat conversation between "two editors at Jezebel."

Probs Gay: Clara Barton

 I spent my Thanksgiving vacation in D.C. and took the opportunity to take in some culture via museums and historical sites. I've always loved visiting old homes since I was a little nerd kid and used to make my mom take me to Teddy Roosevelt's Sagamore Hill in Oyster Bay, NY, or Betsy Ross's house in Philly several times a year. I've been to lots of historical homes in the D.C. area in the past, but wanted to visit one I'd never seen, so I went to Clara Barton's home. She was the founding president of the American Red Cross, and the land was given to her as a gift so she could a build a home there, which she also used as the headquarters for the Red Cross. As I was reading about her accomplishments on the various plaques on the property and looking in all the rooms all I could think was, "This lady was a such a lez."

Hindsight

Moe was asked to do this comedy night thing, so she asked me to do it with her about why we don't do comedy night things. (The last time we did, people didn't like it.) I get terrible stage fright, but the event, which was this past Sunday night, was actually really positive closure, at least for me. When people on the internet were all pissed off at us this summer for not being good role models, some of them took a moment to look down on us from their high horses to tell us that, at some point down the road, when we look back on the things we said, we'd gain some perspective, see the error of our ways, and learn from the experience. It's true that in looking back on it four months later, I've gained some perspective—that it's laughable how much people overreacted for no reason and that Lizz Winstead is a bigger phony than I'd initially thought.

There's No Such Thing as a "Bad Feminist"

I do not believe in a utopian sisterhood. I think that by saying you don't want to take other women on, you are essentially saying that you don't find them to be worthy competitors. So I don't particularly mind when other women dispute my beliefs or the things that I say—so long as they don't hurl rude, unnecessary, or irrelevant insults, like about my STDs, the way I wear my hair, etc.—because I recognize that I throw a lot of shit out there that's not exactly crowd pleasing. What bothers the fuck out of me, though, is when women accuse other women of being bad feminists. That simply does not exist. Because it doesn't matter what you think about women's issues, just as long as you're thinking about them.

Taken Out of Context I Must Seem So Strange

Tracie: If you bring out a vibrator and a guy's ego is hurt by that, then he's retarded.
Moe: Or an toothbrush (laughs). An electric toothbrush.
Tracie: They make attachments for that, actually.
Lizz: There's a toothbrush?
Tracie: They make make attachments for the Oral B electric toothbrush, the Sonicare...
Moe: I have that one!
Tracie: I know!
Lizz: So you mean your toothbrush becomes your vibrator?
Tracie: Yeah, it actually... you know, the thing that bothers me about modern vibrators or whatever...
Lizz: Is that they become toothbrushes!
Tracie: No, 'cause like, I am strictly the Hitachi Magic Wand, there's no other thing that's better than that.
Lizz: So you're still a plug-in girl
Tracie: Yes. Well, because, you can't get any real power from, like... I need a chunkier ride.
Moe: You always say that.
Lizz: And do you have the attachments?
Moe: But I've got, just, like, the standard vibrator and it's fine.
Tracie: See, no, I can't, I can't.
Moe: It also doesn't make as much noise as my frickin' toothbrush.
Tracie: Oh, I live alone, so...
Lizz: Maybe you just have to, like oil it up a little. But in an age where, you know, where you're focusing on sexual freedom, it's just, it's not always safe. It's not always safe to be with strange men, it's not always safe to just have a free, 100% total sexual life. How do you address that? Do you address it?
Moe: I don't really get out that much, enough to really even care about that problem.
Tracie: I mean, people are always saying that it's not safe to go home with strange men, blah blah blah...
Moe: Like, what's going to happen?
Tracie: .... Mr. Goodbar or whatever.
Lizz: You could get raped.
Tracie: But I wouldn't.
Moe: That's happened, too, but you live through that, you know.
Lizz: Sometimes you don't.
Moe: I mean, that's true if they have weapons.
Tracie: But when I bring someone home, I want to fuck them, I'm not going to bring someone home and be like, "No, not tonight."

Rape Can Be Boring

Ugh, this Monday sucked So. Much. First, Time Warner in Brooklyn got completely shut down for a while, making it impossible to do my job, which meant that I'd actually have to get out of my muumuu, take a shower, and drag my ass into the city to work at my company's new office, which I've never even been to. I walked into my bedroom to get dressed and saw that there was liquid all over the floor. My first reaction was to blame the dog for pissing, but I noticed that there was just way too much fluid, and I looked up to see that water was pouring out of my ceiling, and the ceiling was actually like falling apart and shit.

So then I had to get on the horn with a plumber, who wanted to charge me $125 an hour just to look at the fucking mess, then I had my editor on the other line, who wanted me to dictate the text of my post to her, so she could throw something up on the site during the internet outage. Everything was so hectic for about an hour. Then by the time I got on a pair of ratty jeans and a T-shirt, the internet was back. Then I went to take a piss and saw that I was spotting, which is totally weird, because I just finished my period a week ago. I'm thinking it was from the stress. Oh, and I didn't even mention that I'm in the middle of quitting smoking and was on my third day of Zyban/Welbutrin.