Tag Archives: feminism

ULTRA FEMMO (A response to Jemma O’Leary of the University Times)

In the wake of Jemma O’Leary’s interesting column  ‘Ultra-Feminism is Eroding Our Values’ on the university times website, a lot of people asked the question just what is an Ultra-feminist?  Well I’d like to take up this mantel and proudly declare myself an ultra feminist.  I claim it not because I think all the lowly men-folk in this world ought to be made slaves that carry me around like Cleopatra and feed me grapes for the rest of my life, but because I am a screaming, raving, hardcore fan of feminist theory.  I’d just like in the spirit of sisterly debate to rebut a few points Ms. O’Leary made in her piece.  I promise that I’ll try not to oppress anyone too hard under the hard sole of my Doc Martens and sexual liberation.

____________________________________________________________________

I just really like critical theories that point at the world we live in and go ‘hey, here’s some stuff that seems RIDDLED with problems. Can we get some maintenance guys in to look at this? There’s a light bulb gone in the gender relations department.’ Feminism is essentially a strand of critical theory- It was created, generally, by people looking around, seeing that there is a whole world of stuff to examine through the prism of gender (or class, or race, or whatever) and went with it.  That’s all.  Much as I would love to think that feminism has become so influential in the corridors of power that it could even approach being an oppressive force, I don’t think that’s true sadly. In a country that doesn’t even have free right to choice for it’s citizens and less than 10% of the parliament is represented by women, I don’t think Ms O’Leary has a strong case.

Ms O’Leary also talks about how she, in her personal opinion, thinks feminism has gone ‘far enough.’ Well, I think I can agree with her in so far as it’s done wonders for women like us- both university students, both from presumably comfortable backgrounds.  She’s right that generally speaking, we’re doing okay.  We get to sit around in seminar rooms and read about all this stuff and decide for ourselves what we’d like. We have protection in employment, pretty good maternity leave ahead of us and anything that we need that our country doesn’t offer to us, we can pay to travel out of Ireland to get it (we also have the freedom to travel wherever we like without suspicion, as western ladies) Yeah, We white middle class western ladies have it pretty sweet.

It’s like Lucinda Creighton when she spoke of how proud she was to be an Irish woman, and how she thinks it’s a grand county to be a lady in. Well, it’s great if you’re university educated, middle class, in a well paying job and don’t have to look beyond your own experiences for things.  If my and Jemma’s experiences  were the sole barometer by which we measured how all 3.5 billion odd women in the world were getting on, I might agree that we ought to tone the feminism down a tad. Perhaps.

But it’s not. We live in a world where class, gender, sexuality and race all intersect in fascinating ways to create the accepted structures of power. That’s how you get cases like Slanegirl- Variously described by the delightfuls on twitter as a ‘skanger’, a ‘knacker’, a ‘dirtbird’ and a good old fashioned slut.  It’s not that all the feminists were crowding around to defend this girl to the hilt; it’s that in the face of a torrent of online abuse and mirth at the picture of a public sex act, it was the girl getting all these names thrown at her.  The man in this story was ‘a pure lad’ a ‘lucky bastard’ or a ‘dirty fucker’- but there was still a sort of shrugging ‘eh… fair play’ reaction to his part in the act.  The girl was the dirt bird.  It goes back to all these double standards we have about sexuality, and the roles we give people in sex.  Which while we’re at it, sucks for everyone.

Women are told by society that sex is a chore and something that needs to be endured to please men. Men are also told this and that reinforces the idea that women need to be sort of coaxed into the act.  Like they’re an easily spooked pony, you must always approach a lady from the side.  I’ll also point out that the entire field of masculinities is a feminist critique of the expectations placed on men by a gender binary and how deeply screwed up it is.  Just look at the absolute goldmine of essays on breaking bad and masculinities recently.  The expectations placed on dude by the patriarchy are crushing for the men who don’t easily fit into them.  Personally, I strive for a feminism that allows us all to shag without shame and with respect for each other.

I just question what ‘values’ Ultra Feminism is eroding and why they’re such a great idea anyway.  Why is that value that sex is basically dirty and gross and people are gross for doing it something that needs to be protected from erosion by the sea walls of patriarchy?  Why does the value that women ought not to criticise or speak up but rather elegantly and gracefully take it on the chin something that ought to be preserved?  Ms. O’Leary doesn’t make a decent case for this at all.  The entire idea of Critical theory is that it challenges these norms and forces us to examine them.  It’s the similar to Marxist critique of capitalism- just because you have a few problems with the way the world works doesn’t mean every single Marxist is out there tearing it down.  Feminists simply point out inconsistencies in our social world. That can be uncomfortable for us all- being forced to acknowledge our own privileges and biases- but it’s important work and it certainly doesn’t need to tone it down.

Let’s call a spade a spade here- O’Leary isn’t talking about the erosion of ‘values.’ She’s talking about the erosion of norms, and not making such a hot case for why they’re so great in the first place.

Really at the end of the day, Ms. O’Leary is saying people are ‘ultra fems’ (I do love this term, and hope that she won’t mind me nicking it for my own purposes in future) are out of control because they dare to criticise. ‘Critical’ is a very loaded word when it comes to women.  All their lives women are cautioned against being a shrew or a nag, or being too loud.  Being ‘Critical’ is kind of code for ‘being a bitch’ or ‘thinking too much into these things.’ But when you really examine feminist theory- And I mean get a cup of tea, a pack of biscuits and really sit down to get to grips with it- you’ll find a multitude of voices.

It’s not a monolithic structure with ONE opinion, that opinion being CRUSH THE MEN.  There are actually lots of ideas and opinions about lots of things- about body image and policing, about gender roles, about Trans women, about race, about class- and yes, some of these theses don’t include a disclaimer that says ‘by the way we recognise that men aren’t all pigs, some of them are rad.’ That goes without saying. You’re not going to get much out of feminism if you just read The Second Sex and How to be a woman then dust off your hands and declare it all a bit of a faff (although I do recommend reading both as an excellent articulation of basic theory and a silly but enjoyable memoir respectively). If you look at the wealth of feminist literature out there- From the big guns of the 70s like Greer and Dworkin right through to the bloggers and activists of today, you’ll see a lot of variety and lot of discussion.

So yeah, I don’t think Ms O’Leary is, as she so elegantly put it ‘a cold-hearted bitch.’ I think she’s a little blinkered, possibly a bit sheltered to the wider field of feminist theory and activism. I think she probably forgets that she, like me, grew up in the age immediately prior to camera phones being carried by every person in Ireland connected constantly to twitter and Facebook.  We both had our teens played out in relative, blissful privacy and all our moments of ill judgement or drunken revelry were carried out away from social media and only the stuff of mere rumour.  I think in short that she’s being a little judgemental in writing a piece that writes off an entire field of critical thought as going ‘a bit too far’.

Sorry if you were expecting me to smash a table or scream ‘INTERNALIZED MISOGYNY’ at you for a few paragraphs.  That’s not how the Ultra Femmo rolls.

_____________________________________________________________________

Niamh ‘Battle cry of the Ultra Femmo’ Keoghan

Advertisements

FEMINISM GETS YOU LAID MORE (A guest post)

I have an illness that’s stuck on shop demo.  Since last Thursday I have had a sore throat, fever, dizziness, nausea, motherfucking partial blindness, aches and pains, shivers, cold sweats, a chesty cough and a congested nose.  I haven’t been able to do much except lie in my bed, cry and occasionally roll over and beg for someone to make me tea.  

Obviously in this state, I haven’t been able to write anything so it’s lucky for me that I had a guest writer lined up!  This Blog all about why Feminism facilitates rather than impedes people getting laid is all the more relevant now considering the recent totally rational backlash to feminist ideas surrounding consent, masculinity and sexuality. We seem to be in a bit of a series at the moment, discussing why feminism is not at all anti man or anti sex.  Of course, seeing as my own sexual activity is a bit limited, I thought I should call in the services of someone with a bit more experience in the matter.    

Our Guest Blogger is a noted sex positive feminist, erotic writer and enjoyer of sex who very kindly sent me on this post explaining how by furthering the cause of feminism, you are likely to get laid a lot more.

______________________________________

Hello, lovely readers of BHT! It’s very exciting be here, talking to you, hoping I might be able to entertain you for a few hundred words.

I’ve had too many conversations with straight horny college boys [henceforth SHCBs] – and read about too many other conversation with SHCBs – who complain about feminism in one breath and complain about not getting laid as often as they’d like in the next. Anti-feminist SHCBs probably don’t make up a huge percentage of this blog’s (lovely, charming, intelligent, sexy) readership, but if there are any lurking – and for the amusement of the rest of you – I would like to offer up a primer on why SHCBs should like and indeed vocally support feminism.

[Note for all the already-feminists: all of the things I’m talking about have vastly huger consequences for women than they do for SHCBs, obviously, and please don’t think I’m trivialising that. But “what about the menz?!!?” is a frequent if stupid complaint and “the world doesn’t in fact revolve around you” is a fact some SHCBs struggle to understand. So here’s an alternative response.]

FEMINISM GETS YOU LAID MORE

Reason #1: Feminism makes it safer for us to respond to you hitting on us (and for us to hit on you)

There’s no cute way of putting it: if I flirt with someone at a party, decide I’m not interested, and then later on they rape me, there is a 5% chance that person will ever be convicted. There is a pretty decent chance that anything I say about their actions won’t be believed, and if they boast about getting with me, their friends will congratulate them.

This kind of puts me off flirting with people at parties.

Anti-feminist SHCBs complain – frequently – about women falsely alleging rape. But believing and supporting rape victims, as well as squashing anyone who says things like “a no is just a yes that needs some persuasion” or catchier, rhymier versions of that complete bullshit, is a great way to reduce the number of rapes. If “rape” is eliminated as a possible outcome of “hitting on cute SHCB” then I will be a whole lot more likely to ask SHCBs if I can buy them a drink.

Reason #2: Feminism does not like transactional sex

If I can buy them a drink? Me, a lady-type, buying a boy-type a drink? Isn’t that all back to front and terribly modern and think of the children etc?

By “transactional sex” I do not mean prostitution. I mean the faux-prostitution of “you buy me dinner, I give you a blow job.” Where sex is something that men want and women endure in exchange for something else.

This is not a good approach. I mean, I like having people buy me dinner because I am a poor student, but there’s no dinner/blow job causation here. Sex happens when both parties want sex, not when one party has spent the required amount of money. Maybe this doesn’t mean more sex, always. But it means sex where both people want to have sex because having sex is fun and enjoyable, not because stuff has been bought. Isn’t that way better? And less expensive?

Reason #3: Feminism does like contraceptive choice

You know what else is expensive? A baby.

If having a baby was a possible consequence of having someone put their penis in my vagina – if I could not get condoms in every corner shop and my preferred brand of the pill for €10/month and the morning after pill for €40 and if all that lot fails then an abortion an affordable Ryanair flight away – if all of that did not exist, I would not be letting anyone put a penis in my vagina. I probably wouldn’t let anyone put a penis near my vagina. I would probably start exclusively dating ladies, in case the proximity of a penis tempted me.

Really, “an abortion an affordable Ryanair flight away” is not good enough (I am lucky enough to be able a) to afford it and b) to be an EU citizen and thus able to come and go as I please – there are a lot of women in Ireland not in that situation), but it has been a long, hard, feminist struggle for all the rest of it as well. Wanting to put your penis in a vagina while wanting to restrict what the vagina-haver does with the consequences of that penis-putting is… my kindest option here is “optimistic.”

Reason #4: Feminism does not like body policing

SHCBs, hands up if you fancy this hypothetical woman: size 8, tallish, able-bodied, white, DD boobs, blonde hair down to her nipples, mostly hairless below the neck, no stretch marks, spots or general standard-issue crinkly bits.

That’s OK, I think she could be hot too.

Now take your hands down if you would sleep with a woman who did NOT match that description.

I really hope there aren’t any hypothetical hands staying up. If there are, lads, I have news for you, you’re not going to get laid very often.

Our culture is really good at making women who don’t match up to all or most of those criteria feel shitty about themselves. That sort of feeling shitty about themselves that results in “No sex with the lights on in case he sees my crinkly bits” or “I’d love a shag, but I haven’t shaved my legs in a couple of days so I told my SHCB that I was busy tonight.” This is colossally sucky for all concerned. Obviously body policing occurs for men too. But the amount of things on their bodies that women are supposed to care about – and feel insecure about – is ridiculous. SHCBs, when you say that women with armpit hair are gross, 1) you’re shitty human beings but 2) consider how much your boner would actually care.

Reason #5: Feminism does not like slut-shaming

“Why won’t any of these disgusting dirty sluts sleep with me?!”

This one should be self-evident. If someone will think less of me for sleeping with them, I am not going to sleep with them. If someone is going to insult me for sleeping with them, I am not going to sleep with them. If someone is going to mock me with their mates for sleeping with them, I am not going to sleep with them.

I’m kind of a slut. I use slut to mean “person who has a lot of sex” and I use it in a neutral/positive way. But I don’t fuck anyone who uses it in a negative way. Because I only sleep with people who like me, and someone who casts a moral or social judgement on women who have a lot of sex does not like me.

 

You know, I could go on. If the average woman didn’t have to work 13.9% longer to earn the same amount as the average man, maybe she would have more average time to have some average sex with him. Maybe I would have been having sex with SHCBs more often this past year if I hadn’t needed to go on so many sodding marches for the sake of basic bodily autonomy! Sex with SHCBs is a LOT more fun than standing in the rain chanting “never again,” but I direct you to reason #3. There are a whole load more things I could list here, but frankly rewriting feminism as a movement to get SHCBs laid more becomes depressing if you keep it up for too long.

Feminism! Good for women, good for horny college boys who want to get laid more often. And now back to your regularly scheduled programming. Over and out. 

_________________________________________

Niamh ‘I’m Niamh Keoghan and I approve this message’ Keoghan

Some common questions about Feminism

Happy international Women’s day!  Wow ladies, a whole day.  It’s like the oppression never even happened and isn’t still happening!  No but seriously, on this day I’d like to take time to answer a few questions that I’ve heard recently about Feminism and to respond to some frequent critiques of feminism that I hear and would like to address.  Oh, and to answer the most commonm question I hear every International women’s day; International men’s day is on the 19th of November.  It’s also international white middle class man day EVERY DAY OF THE FUCKING YEAR.  Stop being a smartarse.

I look really stereotypical. Soz.

__________________________________________________________

Do feminists hate men?

 

Okay, so firstly let’s talk about what feminism is exactly.  A lot of people assume that it’s a hard and fast philosophy that all feminists agree on and never debate amongst themselves.  It’s much more like marxism or any other political theory- just that, a *theory* that everybody has a grand old time debating about.  Feminists agree and disagree on plenty of things.  Just because one woman who called herself feminist told you this one time that all sex is rape does NOT mean all feminists agree with that.  There are feminists like me who are staunchly pro choice and there are others who argue that abortion damages women- I don’t agree, in fact I’ll disagree to the bitter end, but the basic fact is this-

Feminism is the idea that gender doesn’t define a person, who they are or what they’re good at.  It’s about empowering women to take control of their bodies and lives, and to not feel inferior to anyone.

But do feminists hate men?  Well, I certainly don’t.  I have two brothers and a dad that I love very much, not to mention my two uncles, my grandfather, my five cousins and countless male friends.  I like men so much sometimes I even FANCY some of them.  Not the ones I’m related to.  That would be weird.  But yeah, I don’t hate men.  And I know men don’t hate me.  Not really.  Germaine Greer and some second wave feminists might disagree and say that all men secretly subconsciously hate women because society has programmed them that way but I take a more chilled out look.  Guys get totally fucked over by society’s notions of gender.

So do you support men’s rights too?

OBVS LIKE.  I so do.  I believe in gender equality.  Feminism is all about the gender equality. I’m not saying you’ll never see a feminist argue against that because like I said, anything goes, but generally we’re good with men having rights.  If men didn’t have rights, we wouldn’t have them either because hey, we want to be equal.  Thing is, a lot of critique of feminism from a men’s rights perspective misunderstands what feminism wants to do.

My dad and brothers as working class men find it incredibly difficult to express emotion through any conduit other than anger.  My Dad has admitted to me  ‘Ah no, I can’t cry.  I cry on the inside.’ There’s a reason the suicide rate among young men is so high, and it’s not feminism- it’s the standards we still judge men by; expecting them to be tough, and stoic, and virile.  Be the breadwinner and if you’re not able to support a wife and family on your own, you fail as a man.  This is all the stuff that feminism is opposed to- it’s opposed to the idea that men have to fit into any sort of prescribed gender role.  It argues that just as women can be tough and ballsy, men can be caring and nurturing and neither option is better or worse than the other.  A major argument I hear in critique of feminism is that fathers have very few rights in relation to custody of their children.  And let me put my hands up right now and say this- I think fathers should have equal right to custody of their kids.  It’s the old assumption that men aren’t carers and women are, and I don’t like it.  I don’t for one second deny that men get totally gypped by custody law. Feminism wants to make custody law fairer too- We don’t want to go back 150 years when men were given sole automatic custody of their children and nor do we want the burden of childcare to inevitably be a woman’s job.  Equality for all!  Feminism is a synonym for ‘gender equality.’  The only reason I don’t go around calling myself a ‘Gender Equalist’ is because it’s too clumsy a term and there’s also nothing wrong with the word ‘Feminism.’  It doesn’t alienate dudes at all.  Dudes be my brothers.  Dudes suffer from this screwed up idea of gender too.  I think a major problem with the whole ‘mens rights’ thing is that while well meaning, they tend to misinterprete feminism as being just blind misandry- they seem to envision rights as a finitie resource and asking for more of them for women means men losing a bit, but that’s not it.  Mens and Women’s rights are all important.  Nobody’s fighting here.  We’re all friends.

In conclusion- Everybody is my bro, I don’t hate men.

So can men be feminists?

Totes.  Feminist men, as I have discussed elsewhere at length, men who respect me as a person and as an equal are rad.  I was being humourous obviously, but there really is no subsitute for genuine respect and support.

Are all feminist lesbians?

No.  I am a noted man-lover, as are many others.  Of course there are lots of lesbians who are feminists too, not to mention lots of gay men and trans men and women.  One of the big challenges to feminism at the moment is supporting and accepting trans women (i.e. people who were born as psyically male but transitioned to living as a woman).  Again, early second wave feminism (Which was the 1960s radical movement that is most people’s go to image for feminism- think angry bra burners and shouty women) Was quite unpleasant about trans women and men, but it’s moved on since then.  Feminism has also now had to become intersectional- which means basically that it doesn’t fight against the massive monolith of PATRIARCHY anymore (when you hear me joking about ‘crushing patriarchy’ it’s usually slightly toungue in cheek) because although there is a patriarchal order to the world, women are oppressed for a lot of different reasons- My experiences are very different to a black woman, or a muslim women, or a woman not from europe.  It’s also very different from the experiences of working class women or women who live in poverty- In these cases it’s often racism and class constraints oppressing women and their experience of sexism is marked by these things also.

So it’s not enough to just rail against ‘teh menz’ anymore.  We have to understand that it’s all a bit more complex, and that systems of oppression are wildly different depending on location, race, class, gender assignment and sexuality.

So are not all feminists shouty and angry?

Well, some are.  I know a lot of women who are currently very angry about lack of legislation for abortion in any circumstance in Ireland.  That makes me quite angry too.  A lot of women are angry at being told not to dress too provocatively or drink too much in order to avoid being raped, as if the responsibility is on us not to be raped rather than on the rapist not to rape.  I’m angry that people like David Quinn can pontificate about sexuality and abortion to teenage girls and that in my lifetime women were incarcerated in industrial laundries.  I’m angry that women are deprived of choice in this country, and that young mothers and single mothers are often still stigmatized and sneered at.  It makes me all very sad, and very angry.  In fact, a lot of this general background anger is the reason I got back into writing after a long break.  But I’m also by nature an optimist, and I was raised with manners and politeness on me, so generally I try not to get shouty.  I’m not good at being angry- some people are fabulous at it and they do well, but it’s not my style.  I prefer to be a comedian and to make my point via humour.  I think making sexism and misogyny look silly with a single zinger is worth twenty angry blog posts.  That’s just my style.

So yeah, I think all feminists have anger in them, particularly in Ireland right now.  Not all shouty though (Although there’s nothing wrong with being shouty- there is plenty to shout about), some of us do better with humour as an outlet for the rage.

Dont’ you already *have* equal rights?

Nominally, maybe.  But some burdens fall unequally on the shoulders of women.  Things like childcare, which as we’ve discussed, is unfair to mothers and fathers.  Women are also still asked things like ‘what were you wearing’ when they report that they’ve been raped.  In some cases, a woman’s sexual history has been used to throw out rape trials.  Women still get objectified in comics and games in a way men never are.  Most of the ‘objectification’ men go through in games- the super muscled hot heroes- that people site to me as an example of ‘men are treated bad too!’ are really wish fulfillment roles for guys to play as.  I refuse to accept that you’ll see a page three spread of a guy with his cock out any time soon.  All I’m saying is that you don’t just roll up feminism when you’ve got legislation.  You have to keep pushing at thousands of years of society having certain ideas about women and their capabilities.  That’s all.

So what makes me a feminist?

Basically if you’ve ever been made feel ashamed of having or wanting sex, or of dressing a particular way, or if you’ve ever just felt really uncomfortable with the way you or your friends/relatives are treated because they’re women, or felt that women are held to a higher standard and half to work twice as hard to be considered half as good, or been accused of ‘getting hysterical’ when you’re just trying to debate a point, yeah. That’s all the bullshit feminism deals with and tries to critique.  You’re a feminist.  It doesn’t mean you hate men or agree with every dumb thin Caitlin Moran says on twitter, it doesn’t mean you punch the air and go ‘FUCK YEAH!’ when Julie Burchill says prostitutes should be shot as collabarators with the partiarchal regieme, and it doesn’t mean you have to be anything other than what you want to be.  It justs means you want to do your own thing, and for everyone else to get off your tits about it.

________________________________________________________________

Niamh ‘This is what a feminist looks like’ Keoghan

Please don’t be alarmed- I’m not trying to oppress you

Lately, on my wanders through this world, I’ve encountered a strange phenomenon in Ireland and the discussion around feminism.  This is when I throw up one of my feminist cards- like talking about rape culture, or casual misogyny, or consent- I’m usually rebuffed with ‘well what about the MEN? Men get oppressed by sexism TOO, you know?’ And this makes me sad.  Because most of the people who say this are very cool, groovy, right on people who are concerned with justice and fairness.  We’re on the same page, guys.  We shouldn’t be fighting!  But most alarming to me in the ‘mens rights’ camp is one John Waters, who has been on my radar for a long time.  Oh Mister Waters.  I used to read you column in the Irish Daily Mail back when I was a baby writer.  You taught me more about writing than anyone else- I just didn’t do whatever you did.  Lately he’s got a gig trotting onto various radio shows and wailing against feminism and women’s rights as infringing on the rights of men.

______________________________________________________

Now, Mister Waters is absolutely, 100% right in saying that men are oppressed.  Try getting married to your male partner or adopting a child to raise together or indeed, even try walking around town at night holding hands.  You’re pretty certain to get a shit storm of abuse.  Also rather oppressed is the Trans man, who some feminists have said very mean things about and who a lot of people will still be really resistant to accepting.  Oh, if you’re a working class man or a man with a mental illness, you’re likely to get shit too.  If you’re a man from the travelling community you’re probably getting a fair bit of ‘we have the right to refuse admission’ off bouncers and dying about 10 years earlier than your settled peers.  So yes, men are oppressed.

But the men that are decidedly NOT oppressed are ones like John Waters and David Quinn.  Middle class, comfortably employed, conservative, catholic broadsheet columnists are doing pretty okay in this country.  You’re not being oppressed on the basis of your religion or your gender.  If you’ve been interned without trial for simply being a catholic well then you’re totally being oppressed, but somebody talking about the massive industrial scale slavery that religious orders ran or the institutional rape that was covered and perpetrated by the Catholic church  isn’t.  If I have to as a feminist deal with the stupid shit Caitlin Moran has said on twitter then you guys have to deal with the criticism of your religion’s hierarchy.

I should probably point out here that I have heaps of what is now fashionably called ‘privilege’.  I’m white, straight, comfortably supported financially by my parents and studying at university.  I get misogynistic comments and sexist bullshit but it’s usually of a sort that doesn’t ruin my life or severely impede my liberty.  I get a little bit more bother for being outspokenly atheist and left wing than I do about being a woman, generally.

That being said, I do get some strange comments.  When I’m told to cover up and not get drunk in order to avoid getting raped- guys, why doesn’t this attitude to rape bother you more?  I give out about rape culture and a lot of guys take offence to the idea that women are always victims and men are always the rapists.  But this ‘look after yourself and avoid dressing a certain way’ is so insulting.  It basically says the men can’t control themselves- that if given the slightest chance, they would rape a woman for showing skin or being vulnerable.  It reduces men to animals unable of control or restraint or respect for bodily autonomy.  I think about the men I know- the kindest and most polite gentlemen you’d ever meet- and I know that’s wrong.

But yknow, women do get oppressed and in Ireland, we were fucking chronic for it.  In my lifetime, there were Magdalene women imprisoned in laundries.  Women had to sneak over the border to get contraception and sneak it back.  The original premises of the Irish family planning association had a back exit just in case they were raided.  Information about abortion- not even the procedure itself but information about it- was banned from distribution.  Women weren’t even trusted to make their own decisions about their bodies with all the relevant information and options.  Symphesiotomies happened until 1986.  In the same year a fifteen year old girl gave birth and died in a grotto in Longford.  People see Nell McCafferty on telly and roll their eyes.  I get hounded for expressing the apparently radical opinion that I should have a voice.

Really what John Waters and David Quinn are afraid of isn’t being oppressed.  They’re afraid of losing the position of power and privilege that the Irish catholic male has held since 1922.  They don’t like women speaking out because they then lose the ‘right’ to speak for them, act for them and make decisions for them.  They wail oppression when the old taboos are broken- when we criticize the church openly and bitterly, as it should be criticized as an institution.  You can’t claim to speak for ALMIGHTY GOD and ask us to lay off when your massive rape ring is uncovered.  That’s insulting to your members, your followers and insulting to everyone else.

Women don’t always just get oppressed for being ‘the women.’ Often it’s influenced by race, by ethnic background, by social or economic status.  One of the challenges of feminism now is how we collate all these different little bullshit things and kick them down.  But whatever the complications and challenges of the movement, You simply can’t ask women to get back in the box.  It’s arrogant.  Please stop politely and reasonably asking to be treated as something more than a baby and cake dispenser, because you’re oppressing John Waters.  Stop politely and reasonably asking for reform so that childcare and custody are equally shared between parents.  Stop politely and reasonably asking for equal marriage and gay rights.  Stop politely and reasonably asking to change things, because it’s making John Waters feel challenged.  Yeah.

I’ll get right on that.

__________________________________________________

Niamh ‘crushing you with the boot of my polite requests for fairness’ Keoghan

Bank Holiday Tuesday 26th February 2013

This column originally appeared on the StudentStandard.ie on 26th February, 2013.  Additional editing by Keith Broni.

_________________________________________________________________

I think everybody likes breasts.  Who wouldn’t?  They are providers of food, arousal and can be all-in-all aesthetically pleasing.  Let me just make that clear: I’m very pro-breast.  I am a tits-positive feminist.  But also increasingly, I feel like I have less and less ownership of my girlies.  Generally when I see jokes made about boobs, they’re all made by definite non-breast owners. Like Seth McFarlane who had a whole song dedicated to lady bits at the Oscars.  Unless Tina Fey and Amy Poehler had a song dedicated to the cock when they did the Golden Globes, I am going to absolutely 100% file this under ‘sexist bullshit’ (McFarlane was also heaps of unfunny overall, but lets just focus this on tits).

I’ll concede the point that tits are just a lot more aesthetically pleasing than penises (up for debate but generally, I mean), but that still doesn’t condone their massive overuse in media, marketing and advertising. And alarmingly, I don’t feel like I’m in control of mine a lot of the time.  They are disembodied from me: my disembodied tits, if you will.  Floating just separate from the rest of me, two ghostly orbs to be objectified. Both slagged and admired.

Often I have reflected, while lounging in the bath pouring water over my head from a plastic jug because our showerhead doesn’t work, that my girls are a good reflection of who I am.  They’re a bit lopsided and awkward, but they dress up nicely (in a nice bra they can be killer). They’re a bit small but they’re also resilient and determined. Essentially, my breasts are just some plucky kids trying to make their way in a crazy mixed up world.  I can empathise with their struggle.  But sometimes even though breasts are everywhere in our culture, I often feel like my girls are not my own.  I feel like they’re out there in the public realm despite the fact they live here, under my shirt and very few (very lucky may I add) people actually see them.

I see a lot of dudes making the breast-related humour and breasts being used to sell to them.  I read the A Song of Ice and Fire series (on which the Game of Thrones HBO series is based) and have often noted how Daenerys Targaryen seems to be extremely aware of what her tits are doing at any particular moment. Are they swollen, bouncing, swaying gently in the breeze? Doing their accounts for the year? Sometimes the way they are described is as if they’re like a little principality beyond the rest of her body: sharing a landmass but also a state unto themselves.  This is a mistake a lot of guys make about breasts: they assume that ladies are super aware of what they’re doing at all times. I think a lot of guys assume tits are the same as their penis.  Having to gently explain to a seventeen year old boy that no, squeezing them will not arouse a lady nor is it a particularly pleasant sensation was quite mortifying.  It took the girls a full year to recover from the awkwardness of that ill-advised grabbing.  [EDIT- After being told by a good griend that this seems to generalize a bit on what ladies like done in the boudoir, let me expand just a tiny bit on the story.  I left this part out of the standard column because it is a reputable publication and not a place for my sexual misadvantures to be recorded- that’s what this blog is for. The unfortunate boy I was referring to here grabbed onto my girls as we had an awkward, unpleasant shift in an alleyway out his back garden.  He, not being schooled in the ways of actual subtlety or indeed, basic human biology, sort of kneaded my girls the way you’d test a melon for ripeness or a piece of bread for freshness, and then asked the immortal question- ‘Are you gonna come?’ No.  No, aimlessly poking at a girls boobs is not the way to make the vast majority of women orgasm.  This is also the boy who could not locate my vagina while his hand was up my skirt.  ANYWAY.  Poor boy.  Left my girls in a state of trauma for years.]

It’s like we all love tits, but they’re public property so we’re not allowed own them.  The sort of tits you see exposed (in mainstream non-porn media anyway)  are a very specific kind of tit. Usually white, not too big but not too small.  Kate Winslet and Emilia Clarke are both famous owners of great tits and I’m struck by how similar they are.  Again not too big, small or ethnic.  Just your good garden variety, well-proportioned, English breast: the sort you’d grow in a garden or buy from an organic farmer’s market.  They are the golden ratio of boob.

Because most things are advertised to the heterosexual white male, the power and appeal of the boobs are placed solely in their hands.  I’m not allowed to make jokes about tits aimed at other women. How many comments are there going to be about this very column calling it ‘brave’ or ‘honest’ or indeed ‘fucking disgusting’ when ALL I’M DOING is talking about these poor beleaguered breasts that I’ve been hitching along for the ride since they arrived from the puberty fairy in 2004?  This isn’t bravery: it’s just me owning me bleedin’ body, lads.

Tell me anyone who doesn’t like breasts?  Straight men and lesbians of course like them and within consensual jolly sexy times they are a wonderful thing to share.  Children like them because food and the often overlooked fact that they make a lovely soft pillow with built in mother’s heartbeat to fall asleep to.  Gay men and straight girls can appreciate tits for their aesthetic qualities: how they look in bras, how they move and how women can just rock them.  I know there’s a whole spectrum of people I’m leaving out here but I still stand by my point: give me a person of any gender or sexual identity and I will give you back a person who can appreciate breasts.  Of course individuals can not like breasts, but what I’m saying is, we’re generally living in a pro-tits world. But maybe we’re just a bit boob drunk, and we need to lay off them for a bit. Maybe we need to get off everyone’s tits, collectively.

We also need to discard the idea of the ‘perfect tits’. It’s a fallacy and we’re only limiting ourselves.  We need OWNERSHIP.  We need a revolution in private ownership of the breasts.  I now implore you all, as I oft implore, to stand on a chair/table/raised platform, grab your breasts through your shirt with both hands and scream “THESE ARE MY GIRLS AND I WILL HAVE AGENCY OVER THEM.” We need to reclaim our girls, ladies.  It’s okay for us to share them with our partners and our children and everything, but we need to do so with the firm conviction that they are OUR girls.

The world gotta understand that there are ours; that we are sole purveyors and monopolists of breast. We need to topple this empire of the golden ratio.  I want to see everyone with ownership over their respective girls: big, small, black, white, working class or high society.  But always owned and operated solely by the body they’re attached to.  I’m calling this social movement pro-tits feminism.  Say it with me now (if you’re still standing on that chair/table/raised platform so much the better) loud and proud: I AM A PRO TITS FEMINIST!

__________________________________________________

Niamh ‘Girls just wanna have fun’ Keoghan

Tales from the wreck of the Friendzone

*Angry Face*

I hate the friendzone.  I hate the word.  It’s a shockingly clever concept- a catch all term for shaming women who turn a guy down, or decline their romantic advances, or just plain don’t want a relationship.  It has a close connection to the concept of ‘leading one on” wherein a woman is oft accused of stringing a hapless everydude into her web with those feminine wiles only to cut him off cruelly for her own amusement.  Most troubling for me is how women have started to use these terms I’ve heard girls say ”’he friend zoned me” or ”I wish he hadn’t led me on”.  Hell, I’ve used these terms because there are out there people who will mess you around a little bit, and flirt outrageously.  But these people aren’t friendzoning you.  And generally this is a guy on girl trope- Some of parlance has begun to creep into lady talk, but it’s an institutional of hetrerosexual men to begin with.  (Note- Not all straight men are ‘Nice Guys’in the way I describe them here.  I have a lot of male friends and I’m not hating on the menfolk at all, just commenting on something I’ve experienced.  Blah, I don’t hate men, these sexist concepts hurt men too, whatever  x)  

They might be kind of dick, but they’re not friendzoning you because and this may shock you so hold onto your hats and assort beverages the friendzone doesn’t exist.  Sorry everyone.  It’s just not real.  I’ve seen women get messed around by men and men messed around by women, and I’ve never seen evidence of a real life friendzone.  I did do a bit of research I stood around while my friends talked about relationships, and have also been in a few disastarous ones, and been on either side of the ‘let’s be friends’ equation.  It’s also linked to another concept- that of Nice Guyism that we’ll talk about and discuss why it’s really fucking creepy.  Bad romance is my specialist topic- so let’s talk the friendzone.

_______________________________________________

In the zone

In basic parlence, the ‘friendzone’ is where men who have romantic and sexual notions on a woman are placed when those women declined their advances- ususally with a phrase like ‘I don’t want to mess up our friendship’or ”Í don’t think of you that way’or ‘I love you!… as a friend!’ The zone is the purgatory men go to when women selfishly withold the sex that they are entitled to.  Because hey, why does that girl have to be such a bitch and turn you down?  You’re a nice guy, you treat her really well, you’re always interested and looking out for her.  But okay.  Here’s the thing nice guys- Somebody being nice to me is my BASIC prerequisite for continuing to even associate with someone.  A guy being polite, courteous and listening to me is my baseline for being his friend- It’s not some magical perk that will automatically make me spit out a sexy time token, and that’s what it’s really about at the end of the day.

Nice Guyism

And further, the whole nice guy… thing is a bit creepy to be on the receiving end of.  Lads, we know when you’re genuinely being nice and when your interest is forced only to make us think you’re nice.  I have plenty of male friends who have little to no interest in hearing me discuss the finer points of my as yet unfinished novel, and in return I have no interest in hearing about the details of their record collection.  You don’t have to take boundless interest in every single thing I care to mention or be involved in; all encompassing adoration and undying interest are as unsettling to receive as it sounds.  It’s not nice.  It makes me feel like I’m living in a world of plastic automatic yes men, all poking my ego until sexy time coupons pop out.

The scary thing is when men, after frantic and endless prodding, delude themselves into thinking a sexy time token HAS popped out, and that they ARE entitled to more of me than I am willing to give.  That’s when I politely decline, and they scream, with arms thrown to heaven ”’FRIENDZOOOOOOOOONED!”

Sexy Time Tokens

I know I’m the last person that should be complaining about romantic attention heck, usually I’m complaining that nobody’s into me and how much that sucks.  But the opposite extreme is scary and unpleasant.  I was trying to quantify what makes one a ‘nice guy’ in the sex coupon seeking way I just described, and I have a very handy litmus test to discern between genuinely nice people, and ‘nice guys’-

If asked to give you some space to think and breath, a genuine person will do just that, and back off.  They might be confused sure, or hurt or think you’re being dramatic, but they will still give you the space you’ve asked for and respect your feelings.  A Nice Guy however, will ignore your requests for space and continue to bombard you with increasingly false-sounding declarations that they will understand and listen to you.  They’ll completely ignore the fundamental point of what you’ve asked, and continue to steamroll you.  And that’s the point of the Nice Guy, and the Friendzone.

In this whole unpleasant scenario, the woman is just an object to the nice guy.  His feelings and his ego are the important things.  It doesn’t matter how scared or uninterested or even hostile the object is, she still owes him something; He can wrap it up as a relationship, but in the end, the object becomes his possession, and in that possession there are obligations the object must fill.  And if you refuse to play the game, check out and decline the thrilling chance to become an object?

Well, you’re just a frigid bitch who dumped that poor nice guy into the friendzone.  You MONSTER.

_______________________________________________

Niamh ‘Offside in the friendzone’ Keoghan

Beyonce

This column originally appeared in the Student Standard volume 1, issue 1 on the 12th February 2013.  The Student Standard is NUI Maynooth’s independent new source and can be read online here 

published here with kind permission of Keith Broni, editor of the Standard.

___________________________________

Bank Holiday Tuesday 12th February 2013

Beyonce

Image
Another year, another Superbowl Sunday passed with me in bed early, not willing to stay up until 5AM watching the most excruciatingly boring sport known to man (Worse than Cricket, Curling and Lawn Bowls put together because AT LEAST those sports don’t stop for a little rest every every.  single.  Play) only for the faint promise of nine minutes of Beyonce that I could catch on YouTube the next day.  No, I experienced the superbowl the way I also experienced the Late Late show’s debate on marriage equality last week- tucked up in bed with a hot chocolate, following the proceedings via twitter.

Twitter is a great medium for experiencing telly, a crowdsourced annotated commentary of whatever happens to be on.  It’s basically watching highlights that are tailored to your own personal tastes- so in my case, the Superbowl coverage I saw was mostly ‘When’s Beyonce on?’ Then hysterical tweets when she actually did come on (SHE’S SO GOOD AT WALKING!) all about the dancing, the costume, the choice of song (‘Baby Boy?’ Really?  That song was lame back in 2004.  Come on Bey, do Bootilicious, come on-OH MY GOD THEY’RE DOING BOOTILICIOUS) and of course, the fact that Destiny’s child had ‘reunited.’ When really, all that happened was that Bey got her moderately famous backing singers back.  I always liked Kelly Rowland. She reached a minor solo peak around 2003 when I first got into pop music.  Sadface.  Oh wait, now they’re doing single ladies- I have to do Single ladies on this deadly silent train now, excuse me.

The Bey halftime show was a bit of an experience for me, watching it on my phone on the train to Maynooth Monday Morning.  It was when I finally sort of ‘got’ Beyonce.  We’ve long had a complicated relationship because she just doesn’t really have a lot of songs I can groove to.  Bootilicious and Single Ladies are aggressively good and that is Beyonce at her best.  Telephone is an over produced masterpiece of pop excess.  If I were a boy and her other break up jams always felt a bit flat to me.  It never really captures the actual pain of a break-up- they’re more like revenge dreams.  I’d theorise that ‘If I were a boy’ is really a dissing of the sort of casual misogyny  that’s common in most hip hop and rap.

Beyonce isn’t particularly titillating.  She’s too fucking scary to be titillating. Compare some of her earlier videos- writhing on  a beach because Sean Paul is just too hot to comprehend (note- it was 2004 after all) in baby boy, to the aggressive dominance of the Single Ladies dance.  Single Ladies is an aggressive, iconic song.  It’s not sensual- it’s a war cry.  She’s strong and she will fucking TRASH YOU in a song if you wrong her.  She’s not pandering to sexism so much as sticking a sharp heel through it.  Men do fancy her (note-I fancy her.  everyone fancies her. don’t lie.) but she’s not for a moment subservient to any man.  She consistently out-earns her husband.  All you need do to set off any woman born between 1980 and 1993 is to go up to her and ask earnestly ‘Kelly, can you handle this?’.  You will be treated to every woman in the vicinity shrieking the lyrics to ‘Bootilicious’ at the tops of their voices.

Which brings me to the title of her new tour- Mrs Carter.  Using her husbands name on her solo tour has been a bit… confusing to people who have always seen Beyonce as a strong independent figure.  Personally, I had actually forgotten Beyonce had a surname at all.  ‘Knowles’ sort of became redundant after Sasha Fierce came out- She’s reached Cher levels of ‘first name only’ recognition.  I had also forgotten Jay-Z had a surname either, in fact I just assumed they were monarchs and didn’t have a need for one, you know?  Privately, Bey and Jay apparently both hyphenate their names, going as the ‘Knowles- Carter’ family.  Bey has said publically that when she’s stressed, she likes to go make love to her husband to chill out.  She is one of the most athletic and accomplished dancers of our generation- I’d argue her choreography will define the dance of our generation in the same way Michael Jackson defined the 80s.  In the promo for this tour she’s dressed  in a Louis the XIV style leotard and a fur cape.  She’s Beyonce.  LADS.  She is Beyonce.  Beyonce is allowed name her tour whatever she wants.

Image (Beyonce for Pope)

_______________________________________

Niamh ‘I don’t think you’re ready for this Jelly’ Keoghan
@Keofunkel

‘Don’t let me stamp and shout and be a knob on twitter’

A rather upsetting trend I’ve noticed recently is that of popular mainstream feminist broadsheet columnists in the UK being total wankers on twitter when they are met with criticism.  I mean, I rather like Caitlin Moran.  I think her books are funny.  I do honestly think that despite every silly, often ill- judged thing she’s said or crack she’s made, she is essentially well meaning. I’m not as familiar with Suzanne Moore, but I’d have given her the benefit of the doubt too.  Problem is, these writers, when discussing gender, sexism or modern feminism, are often in for stiff criticism from the feminist blogging community.  Most of the criticisms concern their treatment of race (i.e. Moran doesn’t discuss it at all) or pointing out unhelpful language in otherwise well meaning pieces (i.e. Moore’s now-infamous ‘Brazilian Transsexual  quip), and it can admittedly get very intense- I can only imagine because most of the blogs written in response to Moore’s article are articulate, indignant and blisteringly intelligent.

_______________________________________________

If it had been me, I’d be sitting there going ‘Ooooo fuuuuuck, she’s right.’ because the criticisms are valid- don’t ostracize Trans women.  Either we’re in it together or we’re not- there’s nothing nice in excluding anyone from the woman party.  It’s really important to recognize that in the world, different women are treated badly for different reasons- because of race, class, age,  nationality, sexuality or even their physical body (btw Moore, the status of a woman’s genitals is never ANYBODY’S business except her own).  And all the current transphobic bullshit getting thrown around seems to boil down to ‘Stop giving out about this, we have BIGGER THINGS to worry about!  Like the Daily Mail, and page 3!’ and this is exactly the thing women have been told all down the years when they complain about things that bother and oppress them. ‘Focus on the real problems, gawd.’

The backlash to Moore’s comment in her article was swift and sharp and at first, I went ‘really?’ I read the piece and the critique, and was like ‘all this for one throwaway comment that was a bit off colour?  That seems extre- Ooooooh, the tweets..’ Yeah, Moore responded to sustained criticism by taking to twitter with some incredibly ill-advised comments about mutilated genitals and similar transphobic comments.  It was hideous, unpleasant and unprofessional as a writer.  And in the face of even more vitriolic criticism, she then left twitter altogether, while the British journo gang on twitter all mourned her departure and berated those who ‘bullied her off twitter’.  That’s where I get a bit bothered.

People had every reason to call Moore out on such horrible language.  It doesn’t matter if she’s nice in real life, and that she’s your mate- writers, recognize when you have inadvertently offended someone or been wrong.  This has happened a few times- Caitlin Moran, who as I’ve said I enjoy a lot as a writer, said on twitter she ‘could not give less of a shit’ about non-white women when she was called out on her lack of comment of the issues of race surrounding feminism.  It was so, so disappointing   Moran was cool to me, she complimented my jumper and signed my book.  I like how she describes things and her writing style is somewhat similar to mine.  It was really disheartening to see a writer that has a lot of charisma and talent be so… childish about criticism.

And that’s what I’ve observed.  A whole group of well meaning, right on, cool feminist columnists who will not ever take heed of criticism.  Maybe they’re used to lots of ‘LOL, ur shit’ comments online, or maybe they’re jaded from years working in media, but it’s a killer blow to any writer- to think you’re above being called out on shit you get wrong, even if you’re doing it with a well meaning point, or for the LOLz like I usually am.  Just because your friends all gather around to defend you, it rings hollow because you actually were really offensive and nasty to an already marginalized group.  One of the most intelligent things I ever heard anyone say was when Caitlin Moran said ‘Always make sure you’re kicking up [When you write].  Get at David Cameron, don’t attack some schmoo in the back with a bad hat’.  That’s the kind of philosophy I like in my comedy and in my writing.  Kick up, at the elites and the movers and shakers and let them know when they’ve gone wrong.

When you attack trans people, you are pretty decidedly not kicking up.  Some of the most liberal, right on, feminist, LGBT-allied people I know are still a bit… weird about the idea of trans people, and in the idea of reassignment surgery.  Trans men and women have it unspeakably hard in a world where even the right on liberals are iffy about them.  Trans people are still a cruel punchline in comedy in a way that is considered waaay more acceptable than gay people, or women.  ‘Whoops!  That bird you nearly scored is ACTUALLY a MAN! LOL!’ that’s bullshit and it’s not fair.  But for the ‘Moore getting bullied off twitter’ narrative to hold, Julie Burchill had to cast Trans people as the elite, so that she could kick up.  She criticized the ‘trans lobby’ for their perceived abuses and language, Comparing the word ‘Cis’- used to describe anyone who’s gender matches their physical sex- to ‘cyst’.  Worth noting that ‘Cis’ actually derives from latin and also refers to men as well as women and has NEVER BEEN USED as a derogatory term.  Unless you count ‘Cissie’, which you don’t, obvs.

Now, obviously I don’t know what it’s like to be under sustained criticism like that.  I am a teeny tiny drop in the sea of internet blogs.  I just faff on about whatever I feel like, I have no overreaching agenda or theme other than having ROFLs and the odd angry post about sexism, but at the end of the day, I am just being funny for an audience of friends and friends of my friends.  In fact I do shy away from really getting into deep questions about gender and feminism simply because there are so many razor sharp, clever feminist bloggers who I fear will tear my shit up- it’s a very intense field of debate and I don’t think I have the moxie for it, tbh.  I acknowledge my own privileges- I’m white, I’m cis, I’m heterosexual, I’m from a reasonably comfortable background.

Does this mean I’m ‘not allowed’ write about race, or the working class, or LGBT issues?  I say heck no, I can write about what I want, but it does mean I have to make extra sure I have my facts straight- and accepting criticism when it’s needed.  The only time this has happened really was when I made a quip about the ‘suicide clause’ that’s causing so much debate over the new abortion legislation.  I posed the question of why a woman would fake suicidal thoughts when she could just GET THE BOAT TO LIVERPOOL (Embarrassing emphatic caps lock is my own) My friend Emma commented on that piece, explaining that not all women have the money or resources to travel for an abortion, and their desperation can’t be ignored.  And I was very, very embarrassed that I could have made such an error in reasoning, admitted my flippancy and moved on.  That’s what you do.  You take it on board.  If you’ve caused offence, you apologize.  Don’t fight back, or be a wanker on twitter.  Just say ‘my bad, I’ll try to be mindful of this in future’ and move on.  Amend the piece if you can.  But don’t start kicking down at those who you should be listening to.

Let this be my pledge.  If I should ever, in the course of my writing, be a wanker about criticism, someone take me to the side and say ‘dude, not on.  Stop being a wanker.’ Don’t let me stamp and shout and be a knob on twitter (I am always a knob on twitter, but I mean like, a proper offensive, mean spirited knob).

_______________________________________________

Niamh ‘Still likes How to be a woman even if it’s problematic’ Keoghan

Bank Holiday Tuesday’s 2012

Okay, here is part 1 of all the things that I am able to remember from 2012.  Either I remembered it, or was reminded of it by reading my old tweets.  I tried to pick things that had a deeper cultural relevance that I noticed, rather than just being a list of stuff that came out or happened.  Also a lot of shit happened so I’m not going to get everything in.  But here is what Bank Holiday Tuesday remembers

___________________________________________________________________

Everyone dressed as Slenderman for Halloween.  2012 will go down in history as a very difficult year and you could see echoes of this all through pop culture.  Our collective consciousness was fixated on the approaching Mayan Apocalypse date with a kind of gallows humour.   Slenderman became a widely known character in 2012, after spending time building up steam on message boards, youtube and in general internet counter culture.

The original Slender man photo, and the one that started the mythos

I think this surge in popularity can be attributed to two things- our approaching sense of dread, uncertainty and doom, and THAT FUCKING GAME.  I don’t think there is a university aged person in Ireland now who hasn’t played that game while wankered at a house party with all your friends around you screaming DON’T GO IN THE BUILDING! He’ll sneak up behind you OH MY GOD THE CHAIR’S BEEN MOVED.

In all seriousness, I do think the Slender man’s popularity as the horror mascot of the 2010s is telling of our anxieties and fears as a generation, and perhaps also of the stagnation of the horror film industry.  The next iconic horror character after Samara from the Ring movies (remember when Samara from the ring movies was a ‘thing?’ remember throwing all your hair in front of your face and whispering ‘seven daaaaays’? good times) Doesn’t come from a schlock slasher horror or a remake of Japanese suspense- Slenderman didn’t come from any work at all; he originated on a horror message board (Slendy is page 3,hilariously)  and was then adopted into various works such a Marble Hornets and… that fucking game.  It’s a public domain, open source free shared horror template!

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

So with all this in mind, a million tall skinny guys went as Slendy for Halloween, with mixed results.  My top award goes to Danny who honestly scared the bejesus out of me with his costume.  Everyone else, I will offer the wisdom; a morph suit does not a cosmic horror make.

Barrack Obama was re-elected but do I really need to include it on my review in detail?  It all played out like a really forced media game, with people insisting ‘ooooh no it’s gonna be really close, seriously!!!’ when the stats really showed otherwise.  Bouncing back from what I personally think was a voodoo magic sabotaged performance in the first debate, Obama pretty much stormed it beyond Fox News and conservative talk radio in the states, mostly because Paul Ryan and Mittens are just so.  fucking.  WEIRD.  No really, Paul Ryan is really scary looking and I would not have wanted him to be the vice Prez. Now with a looming debt crisis and without the idealism of change behind him, Obama has a very rough second term to ride out.

It was a good year for feminism in a strange way, considering we had so much complete and utter fucking bullshit to contend with.  The GOP candidate Todd Akin started off with some incredibly bone headed comments about rape and how rape victims rarely get pregnant because the body has magic rape detection powers that repel the evil sperm- if only this were true.  Cue more comments from other GOP candidates about how ‘some girls rape easy’ and the shitstorm caused by health insurance providers possibly being made to include birth control as part of their healthcare plans.  Apparently sex is now a lifestyle choice, and avoiding pregnancy for medical reasons can ONLY be done via no sex.  Weird.  Also weird is the idea that the pill is solely birth control when often it’s used for regulation of hormones.

Chris Brown Left twitter, leaving in his wake the need for another terrible celebrity to lol at, and a shitload of misogynistic abuse leveled at the female comic whose sparring with Brown seemed to be what fucked him off Twitter.  I will confess to never wading into the Chris Brown pool because I’d feel like a hypocrite and an elitist, because I listen to Ike turner, John lennon, Phil Spektor and many others who have done terrible, terrible things to women without much sign of remorse.  I would say I don’t take much stock in Chris Brown as an artist and in his music, he is absolutely hideous both with general misogynistic bullshit and with constant backhanded references to his violence and all it paints for me is the picture of an entirely unapologetic guy.  I will never ever like Chris brown.  What a jerk.

Online bullying is the sad new way people are terrible to one another now, with several heavily reported young deaths by suicide linked to online harassment.  To throw my hat into the ring on what is a very sad and controversial topic, I have to say that I’ve always argued it’s not the technology that’s the problem, it’s the attitudes prevailing in society.  The big problem people have with the internet is that it is essentially anonymous, and it is claimed that this encourages downright sadistic and unpleasant things to be said and done to people.  I have to argue that people talked shit and said horrible things to me when I was 12, before facebook and even before bebo.  back then, they got to me by sending text messages and making phone calls- teenagers will always utilize technology to be brutal to one another, and in the adult word we seem to have entirely forgotten harassing phone calls and letters.  This isn’t a new thing, and it isn’t going to be solved by censorship or legislation.

In a broader sense, I’m kind of disturbed by this obsession we all have with understanding why someone took their life- the media seems determined to connect it with one single influence when in reality the victims of suicide have many different reasons and factors effecting their ability to think straight and seek help.  It’s a terrible complicated mental health crisis and we can’t keep catching our heels on scapegoats.

The Olympics and Paralympics blew everybody’s minds mostly because I don’t think people were expecting much.  It had some pretty bad pre talk, but the thunderous opening ceremony directed by Danny Boyle let you know this was the real fucking deal.  Mostly due to Tom Daley representing team GB the diving events had a lot of popularity (and now there’s a celebrity diving competition on ITV1 next year!).  I took great personal pleasure from the extensive coverage of the men’s gymnastics.  (Team GB Gymnastics squad, I’ll see you in my dreams)

Katie Taylor inspiration-bombed all of Ireland with her amazing Gold Medal performance (I watched her final fight through my fingers) and the rest of the Irish team put in a fucking fantastic Olympics, our best performance since 1956.  Cian O’Connor redeemed himself after the stripping of his 2004 gold by claiming bronze here and Rob Heffernan came agonizingly close to a bronze for Ireland in the bafflingly intense and amusing spot of race walking.  Ireland’s Paralympians continued the inspiration-parade, being fucking fantastic setting world records and the like.  I’m still a bit sad that it’s gone, tbh.

The question ‘You don’t agree with abortion, do you?’ Made dinners in older relatives homes excruciatingly awkward for many this year, as the mother of all throw downs sparked off again.  led most visibly by Clare Daly of the ULA and Sinead Redmond, a righteously pissed off pregnant woman the campaign for action on the X case was launched this year.  Youth Defence reared their charming heads again with a billboard campaign around Irish cities that showed torn stolen istock photos and 18 week scans reading ‘Abortion tears her life apart.’ Following this, the posters were vandalized, criticized and generally just written off as the sort of bullshit YD like to go on with.

When Savita Halappanavar died the game seemed to change.  Previously on the fence onlookers marched on government buildings, the Catholic church made statements, people squabbled over the numbers attending rallies and in the midst of all this the media had no idea where to turn.

Interesting to me was the reaction to the story that asked people to give Praveem Halappanavar, Savita’s widower, his privacy.  Enda Kenny was quoted as saying ‘we must remember that a man’s wife has died.’ The political set seemed confounded by what to do when Mr. Halappanavar made it clear he wasn’t going away and doesn’t want a respectful silence over this issue.   They got really confused when Mr. Halappanavar Insisted he wouldn’t co-operate with a HSE led investigation that included several Galway based doctors on it’s panel.

Pro Choice groups called for the X case to finally be legislated for, while Pro Life groups wrung their hands over things like the ‘suicide clause’ not being included in any legislation (Although I do wonder why any woman would fake being suicidal to get an abortion as opposed to the much easier option of, oh I don’t know, GETTING THE BOAT TO ENGLAND).  Now as the year closes it does so with the news that legislation for abortion in line with the X case ruling will be introduced, governed by regulations.

The age of X Factor seems to be ending, as James Arthur only managed to squeak number 2 for Christmas.  Overall it seems we’re getting a bit tired of the polished pop reality star- even X Factor USA was won by a 40 year old country singer, and Britain’s Got Talent by a teenage girl with a dancing dog.  Glee popularized ‘Somebody that I used to know’ to the point where it became the smash indie hit of the summer, along with fun’s ‘we are young’ and Adele continuing her charts dominance.  Glee has slipped from cultural juggernaunt with some modicum of critical acclaim into the realm of the cheesy melodrama it used to parody.

___________________________________________________________________

Whew, way too much happened this year, fucking hell.  I’ll see you in part 2

Niamh ‘There will be awards at the end of all this’ Keoghan

 

The Mooncup circle

I'm in awe of it's power

I think periods are hilarious.  Honestly!  Like anything both a) common and b) mildly unpleasant, it is a topic ripe for comedy.  It’s a long vein of lolz-rich coal that has scarce been mined by anyone.  I don’t see anything particularly squick- worthy about periods, tbh.  I’m too busy dealing with the bleeding, the hormonal imbalance and the cramps to really reflect on their objective ickyness.  To me and to other women, they’re just something to get on with.  Ladies, we don’t have the luxury of being grossed out by own bodies and WHY SHOULD WE?  Periods are a badge of HONOUR.  We should be sharing our horror around.  Some of the nicest moments I have had in life are those ones of solidarity when you ask a friend does she have a sanitary towel you could use.  It’s just a fact of life.

____________________________________________________________

Continue reading →