Who Gets To Be Objective?

Melissa has written a post that has shaken the heart of the feminist blogosphere. Or at least mine. It is so spot-on, it hurts. Literally. And you can count me amongst the many who had their inner voices screaming “yes” at each word we read. I agree with it wholeheartedly, 100%.
I only take issue with one minor detail.

(…) intellectual, clever, engaged men want to endlessly probe my argument for weaknesses, want to wrestle over details, want to argue just for fun—and they wonder, these intellectual, clever, engaged men, why my voice keeps raising and why my face is flushed and why, after an hour of fighting my corner, hot tears burn the corners of my eyes. Why do you have to take this stuff so personally? ask the intellectual, clever, and engaged men, who have never considered that the content of the abstract exercise that’s so much fun for them is the stuff of my life.

There is the perplexity at my fury that my life experience is not considered more relevant than the opinionated pronouncements of men who make a pastime of informal observation (…). And there is the haughty dismissal of my assertion that being on the outside looking in doesn’t make one more objective; it merely provides a different perspective.

Men don’t just have a different perspective. When it comes to women, men are not “objective”.
First, the obvious reason why men cannot possibly be objective is because they have every vested interest in the continued oppression of women. They are the beneficiaries of women’s oppression and the ones who carry it out. They are, in short, the oppressors. If the oppressed don’t get to be “objective” when it comes to their own oppression, then neither do the oppressors. You are raised as an oppressor or as an oppressed. Either way, your views are going to be subjective. Either you take issue with patriarchy because it screws you up, or you don’t take issue with patriarchy because it makes your life cozy.

I pick on the idea of objectivity because I am too tired of having everyone and their dog thinking that they can be “objective” when it comes to feminism, whereas I, a feminist, cannot be because, of course, I am a feminist. Would they say the same thing to a physicist? “You are a physicist, you are biased towards physics, so you cannot possibly be objective”. What about doctors? “You are a doctor, you are biased towards medicine, so you cannot possibly be objective”. Not that long ago I read/heard somewhere that a considerable number of “important medicine people” got together to ask the government to stop dumping so much money on alternative therapies that have been scienterrifically proven to not work and instead dump said money on important medicine. Oh, I couldn’t possibly imagine why you, important medicine people, would want more money to be invested on important medicine. I’m sure it’s inspired by your deep concern for all the sick people of the world. (Note: people are looking for alternatives because the traditional important medicine doesn’t bloody work.)
This is how it works: if you are oppressed, your views towards your own oppression will be subjective and consist, mostly, of “hey, I don’t want to be oppressed!”. Which means your views cannot be trusted, they are subjective. But whose views can we trust then?

The truth is that objectivity is the prerogative of those in power. It either preserves the status quo or actively serves their interests.

Here’s an example I read yesterday from Derrick Jensen’s “A Language Older Than Words”, in reference to the massacre decline in numbers of Australian Aborigines:

“We would read in scientific journals the reason for this decline: “the races who rest content in … placid sensuality and unprogressive decrepitude, can hardly hope to contend permanently in the great struggle for existence with the noblest division of the human species … The survival of the fittest means that might-wisely used-is right. And thus we invoke and remorselessly fulfil the inexorable law of natural selection when exterminating the inferior Australian.””

I bet these scientists thought they were being objective. They are quoting “natural selection”, how could they not be! Members of the dominating race don’t have a race, and so they can be objective when it comes to race.
Another example: the president of the US talks about how the Free Market is the best thing ever in creating wealth. Can anyone think of anybody less capable of objectivity? The classes who benefit from the current economic system are the only ones who can be objective when it comes to the current economic system. The rest of us are “jealous” that we are not rich like them and think that if we cannot be rich then nobody should. Damn right!

Objectivity lies at the core of scientific thought which in turn lies at the core of modern civilization. And it’s plain wrong. No one can abstract hirself enough to be “objective”. It’s predicated on the idea that the person looking in, the scientist, can put hirself in God’s place, high above the rest of us, look down and pass judgement. It’s a poisonous concept that has done a great job at allowing for the continued destruction of the planet and all who live in.

But if we don’t have objectivity, then what are we left with? Why, subjectivity, of course. On the matter of women’s oppression we should ask those who spend their lives experiencing women’s oppression, ie: women. On the matter of race we should ask those members of the oppressed races. On the matter of economy, we should ask those who live with the inevitable reality of the creation of wealth through the free market: the poor.
Once you get used to it, subjectivity feels natural and right. Let’s go back to Melissa’s post. By the time I finished writing this, she had gotten 221 comments. Most express gratitude for putting into words what we all feel but can’t articulate. A few say her post brought tears to their eyes. All of them are positive. This kind of reaction can only mean one thing: Melissa is right. Call me naïve, but I believe that tears are a good indicator that we are in the presence of truth. I cannot think of one occasion in which someone cried over a scienterrific research paper in a scienterrific magazine.
And if you are suspecting that there is a link between subjectivity and emotions and their subsequent dismissal from the dominant ideology in favour of objectivity, cold logic and reason, then you’d probably be right. But this post is too long already.

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Harriet Harman Offends Someone

Apparently, Harriet Harman has said something that wasn’t perfectly crafted to offend precisely nobody. As a result, someone somewhere got offended. Cue in the cries of “omgz!! The misandry!!!eleventy!”. (I’ll believe in “misandry” when Ms Word recognizes the word).

Here’s my response to Harman’s comment: I don’t care. Really, I don’t care. Could she have expressed her ideas better? Maybe. But so? Male politicians offend women with practically every word they utter, and somehow no one gets his boxers in a bunch and devotes kilometres of lines of op-eds to it. Which lays bare the real reason why Harman’s speech is dissected and analyzed to ridiculous extremes: because she’s a woman and she’s a politician and she’s saying something, as opposed to saying nothing, which is the natural order of things. If a woman (or a man) has to think and re think every word she’s about to say, she’ll end up not saying anything at all. Truth expressed imperfectly is always better than perfect, pristine truth that goes unspoken. If we demand perfection, we will get nothing. I should know. I demand perfection from myself and I end up writing nada. (Now, “nada” is a word that Ms Word recognizes).

Along with the cries of “the misandry”, Harman has had to contend with accusations of being “anti meritocratic”.
Oh, the meritocracy. Known in this blog here after as the (sh)meritocracy.
I take issue with the (sh)meritocracy from Hell for many many reasons, and I’m planning on writing a book about it the second I finish bumming around doing nothing. I don’t believe in it, I don’t like it, and I think it’s doing more harm than good. Also, it has messed up with my mind and my heart enough already, so it’s personal.

Here’s the basic, core argument against it. The (sh)meritocracy doesn’t work and cannot work because, in a world designed by rich white men for rich white men, the best person for the job which will best serve the interests of rich white men is, expectably, a rich white man. Occasionally a not rich or not white or not man may get the job in question, but only in so far as s/he best serves the interests of (you guessed it) rich white men. We know the story; we refer to them as the “honorary white” (*cof*Obama*cof*), the “honorary man” (*cof*Thatcher*cof*) or the “honorary elite born” (*cof*Blair*cof*).

All this goes back to the age old argument on whether the world should be restructured as we go along or destroyed with a bang and rebuilt from the ground up. I favour bangs, aka: revolutions. Which leads me to the reason why I keep quiet about using my “revolution is the answer” card to all possible issues, which means I end up keeping quiet about pretty much everything. The reason is that I cannot be arsed to write about it I have no idea what to do. I haven’t come up with a recipe for a big bang style revolution that will shatter patriarchy, destroy capitalism and put an end to all hierarchies in society. But the minute I do, I promise I will present the recipe to everyone in this here blog, entirely free of charge and with all the fanfare and fireworks it deserves.

In the meantime, let’s leave Harriet Harman alone. She’s pissing off the Daily Male, she must be doing something right.

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Loss.

There’s now one less person in the world who loves me. And life feels that little bit heavier.

I spent my whole life dismissing the love from my family on the grounds that it wasn’t “chosen”. Well of course they loved me, they had no choice! I would feel miserable over the fact that I had never managed to “earn” the love of anyone outside of my family. No one with a free choice to make had actually chosen to love me. Silly me. Where on Earth did I get the idea that the love from your family is less important (or less worthy) because they have no choice but to love you? I blame the meritocracy. I wish I could write a book decrying the meritocracy. Of course my family didn’t choose to love me. No one ever chooses to love anyone! Love just happens. The highest expression of love between humans, that between the parent and the child, in particular the love of the parent for the child, is not chosen. Parents never choose their children. And who hasn’t fallen for someone they wished they hadn’t fallen for?

We have it all backwards. I got it all wrong. Obsessing about whether I was lovable enough or not. And of course, only someone with no bias towards me could be objective enough to judge my “lovability” correctly. Yes, I was, subconsciously, rationalizing love in those cruel terms.

What about my love for my family? After all, I didn’t choose to love them either. I guess I never even thought of my love for them being worth much.

I am a very loving person. And it’s one thing that comforts me: knowing that my family knows I love them.

And I wish these words were better written.

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An Update On My So Called Life

Four months and eight days ago, I asked for help on the life creating adventure I was to embark myself in. Help came to me in surprising ways and from many people, to whom I’ll always be infinitely grateful. And one day, someone out there will get a nice gift with a big pink bow on it from this here person.
After a series of tumbles, I somehow managed to settle down in my own place, supported by my very self through a remarkably crappy job. Oh yes. I am writing these very words from my own sofa, purchased by my own self with my own money, and from my own flat, not actually purchased by my own self, but rented, which is close enough. I tell you, you haven’t lived until you’ve lived on your own. Who would have known that eating from the pot and walking around with your hairy legs exposed could bring so much satisfaction?
My job can only be described with an expression I learned nay three days ago: pants. But should anyone’s curiosity be piqued to the extent of keeping you awake at night, or should you have nothing better to do this very second, let me add the following bullet point remarks which, if mixed in a blender and served cold, would amount to a fairly close picture of this job I endure. Fast food chain; coffee shop; minimum wage; crazy hours; no security; occasional free croissant.

Overall, conditions are less than ideal. But I’m living, and that’s what matters.

As for the location, I am pretty sure I am somewhere between Liverpool and Edinburgh. Everyone speaks English and the food is tasteless.

I am never leaving this place.

So now that I have a roof above my head and a hot meal guaranteed, at least when my job and the whether give me a long enough break to walk the 549 miles that separate me from the supermarket where the groceries are actually affordable for someone on the minimum fricking wage, which is almost NEVER the case, I can get to more important issues.
Like the Feminist – Leftist Revolution.

And no, I have no idea where to begin. Suggestions are always welcome.

There have been some changes in my political self. I can’t quite decide whether I’m becoming more radical or more conservative.
I don’t believe in democracy anymore. Or pacifism, for that matter. But I do believe in love, life, goddesses, gods, spirits and demons, which is a primer for me.
I am growing more and more sceptical of the real values of science, technology, education, language, rationality and the whole idea of “progress”.
I am also growing more and more intolerant with “liberalism”, “postmodernism”, and any other “individualistic, free market infused” ideology out there, particularly of the “progressive” and/or “feminist” variety.
And any feminist out there who thinks that “capitalism is a good thing” can kiss my grandiose butt in all its grandeur.
Oh, and I have drunk alcohol a couple of times. No change in behaviour has been perceived. At least none above the usual uncertainty in the measurement of my “normal” behaviour.
From now on you can expect a fair amount of controversial posts in this blog. Assuming I can get off my bum and actually write something.

It’s time to raise Hell. Just what I was put on this planet to do :D

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“Sex And Freedom”

Some years ago I found this magazine about to be chucked in the bin. I rescued it because the issue was about “Liberty”. I didn’t know the magazine at the time, though it turned out to be “The New Internationalist”, of November 1993. In it there was this article by Catherine Itzin, titled “Sex and Freedom” which goes through the basic arguments against pornography.

*WARNING* IT MAY BE TRIGGERING

To read the article:
1) click on the thumbnail; this will open the image in a new window.
2) place cursor over image and embiggen.

freedom-1

freedom-2

Sixteen odd years, my friends. Sixteen years and things have only gotten worse. That’s the thing about misogyny; it doesn’t stop itself.
Yesterday, Jessica Valenti over at Feministing was getting her knickers in a bunch over the release of a misogynist movie whose plot seems to revolve around a misogynistic “sexual” practise. (rape, more like). I felt like crying out, “why Jessica, dawlin’, where do you think this little gem comes from?”. I was too busy booking my plane ticket to Manchester (YAY!) to post such a comment, which probably saved me from high blood pressure and bloggy embarrassment. The comments that were posted pretty much agreed that the “knickers in a bunch reaction” was the appropriate one. Though as is always the case when this topic is brought up, it didn’t take long for the “anti-censorship” bunk to appear.
I advocate censorship. I advocate a LOT of censorship. Mind you, in this particular case, I’d go further and advocate sticking dynamite up the arsehole of whoever came up with this arseholishness. But I would understand it if anyone thought this might be going a bit too far.
There are laws against speech that incites racial hatred, and I don’t hear people going “eek, the censorshipz!” about them. If you dare to deny the Holocaust in Germany, you will most likely get kicked in the butt. Speech has limits. Speech SHOULD be limited. No one has a right to hurt others, or to incite hurting of others. And this is exactly what this is about.
I wouldn’t press on this issue so much if it wasn’t because I think this will be the biggest challenge the next generation of feminists will have to face. Otherwise misogyny will keep advancing and becoming more acceptable, eroding the (few) rights we have won.

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