on coolness and beer cans (in which the author is disinvited to a social event)

I have spent a lot of time associating with dudes.*

I've hung out drinking shitty alcohol and watching shitty movies and eating shitty pizza in many a shitty apartment. I've admired floor-to-ceiling beer can sculptures. I've seen kitchens and bathrooms in which the next new pandemic illness might be evolving rightthisveryminute.

I am cursed with chameleon skills; I strive to blend and largely succeed. This has sometimes led to misunderstanding and confusion, but in the land of Scarface posters and refrigerators containing only condiments, it was an asset. It led to me being cool.

Being cool meant that the one time I brought another female friend to a dudely function, all of their offensive remarks were followed up with apologies - to her. I didn't get any apologies; I never had. I was cool. I didn't get (act) offended by scatological humor or detailed descriptions of sexual exploits, regardless of misogynistic tone.**

Let us fast forward to present day. My mother is going to a function tomorrow evening, involving that bastion of high art, stand up comedy. She was given free tickets by a mutual friend, who also offered me free tickets.

My mother doesn't want me to go. Lately, she notices that I am so easily offended, by, you know, that kind of thing. She is concerned that I'd cause a scene.

Really, me? A scene? When did I become that person? When did I lose all my cool?

I don't want to be sad and alone and no-fun-at-all. I'd like to think I could appreciate a good joke. That said, the last time I had a run-in with stand-up comedy, the comedian did a dissection of the "I wouldn't fuck you if you were the last man on earth" idea that went something like this:

"What do you mean? If you were the last woman on earth, and I were the last man on earth, you wouldn't have a choice! What are you going to do, call the cops?"

I finally told my mom that, since rape jokes are the new hot thing in comedy, she's probably right, I would likely be offended.

What I didn't tell her is that how much it hurts me that she isn't offended, and how much I wish I could show her that cool isn't worth being complicit in a culture that systematically encourages rape and harassment.

I didn't want to make a scene.



*Dudes, n. White, cis, het, middle-to-upper class young men who drink, smoke, adore Seth Rogen and may or may not play Texas Hold 'em.

** The one thing that I've never been cool with, though, is racism. Several of these dudes saw my cool evaporate real fast on more than one occasion when they said the wrong thing.

Intro Post

Hello.

I am a feminist. I considered myself a feminist for years before I really took any time to comprehend what that meant. I was, perhaps, frightened of the changes in my life that might result. I was worried I'd have to change my relationship with things like lipstick, high heels, and uncritical consumption of mass media.

This blog is a result of my recent immersion into feminist theory. I am hereby making an attempt to reconcile the things I believe, the things that are true "in theorem," with experiences in my daily life, as well as news stories, cultural phenomena, and whatever occurs to me as relevant at the time.

Writing about some of these ideas seems the best way for me to process and deconstruct them, so here I am.

And I'm not giving up my heels. Not yet, anyway.