That’s a Dude!

The Lies & the Truth.

Art & Words by Fanitsa Petrou

Even if we were to (somehow miraculously) fail to see their male bodies, we see their male privilege, their male misogyny, their male propensity to use violence – or at the very least the threat of it – against us. To prioritise their own needs, to elbow us aside, to speak over us, to violate our rights, to simulate our suffering, to plagiarize our struggles, to grab our accolades, to mansplained our very nature, to invade our hard-won spaces, to vilify our motives, to use our biology as a weapon against us, to even appropriate our very definition. To colonize an entire sex...

This is a real social media post: A man in women’s clothes is posing provocatively. The caption is saying: “…then I got mis-gendered twice at work, and later while walking my dog, a kid yelled “that’s a dude”! to his friends. Welcome back massive dysphoria”

This one post is representative of so many, MANY out there. This guy’s supposedly sexy selfie is – in his mind – enough to have us think that all this doesn’t make sense. The part that’s missing (and is represented by the three dots) implies that we ought to agree with him that despite looking so damn sexy as a woman, he got “misgendered”, and that’s just outrageous. And cruel! The thing is, the only way we could mistake this guy for a woman, is if we were both blind and suffering from a massive brain damage, or of course if we were pretty desperate to prove to the world how “progressive” we are. And this is where the problem with the trans movement lies: it’s being empowered by the need so many people have to play along. To be judged as “progressive”, “inclusive”, by pandering to anything this supposedly persecuted group is presenting as truth. And get their proper accolades for the fact. 

The kid yelling “that’s a dude” was not transphobic of course (any more than any of us are), but was simply FREE from the contemporary obligatory social convention to appear “kind”, by going along with a grown man’s self-fantasy. The kid was free to point out the ridiculous, not because he was out to get the trans culture and bring it on its knees, but because he was not bound by the moronic, self-congratulatory etiquette of the woke, that will religiously pretend that any man in a dress is in fact, a woman, despite incontrovertible evidence to the contrary. And declare “her” “beautiful”, “stunning” and let us not forget “brave!” on the spot too. And when this “dude’s” self-delusion is not acknowledged as an actual fact causing him distress, that’s not “gender dysphoria” either. That’s just reality knocking on his door.

Human beings belong in a sexually dimorphic species. Which is to say, they are either male or female. This is a truth that remains a truth. Regardless of how one “feels” about the matter. Regardless of how many Tik-Tok videos will be created about “non-binarism” and “gender fluidity” by young people who are looking to sooth God-only knows what insecurity, which they will name “gender dysphoria” in their hope to escape it (who have our sympathy, but NOT the right to demand our complicity in their self-delusions). Regardless of how many middle-aged men in scary make-up will talk of “living their truth”, asking us to validate their lies unquestionably at the same time as they insult us. Regardless of how many tweets about “kindness” and “inclusivity” will be written by everyday people who became keyboard warriors overnight looking to be branded as forward thinkers, with the added bonus of increased followings for their “bravery”, and celebrities looking to safeguard their careers. And regardless of how much effort will be made by transactivists who are on a crusade to recruit every child, and every mind, and have them fight on their behalf! To create theories that justify their fetishes, and safeguard them by lies and threats spewed against anyone who is not accepting them unquestionably, and on demand. 

When the popular argument of sex being a “spectrum” is raised, we are often being reminded of intersex individuals (namely those who possess anatomy characteristic of both sexes, such as a combination of vulvar and testicular tissue). The fact that this phenomenon statistically refers to the 0.02%–0.05% of the Earth’s population, renders this argument and these cases, hardly “typical”, not to mention completely irrelevant to what trans identifying males are: gay men who suffer from an internalised homophobia (as in, they have convinced themselves they are not gay men, they are women, which explains why they are attracted to other men), and straight men suffering from the psychosexual disorder Autogynaephilia – feeling sexually aroused from wearing women’s clothes, having fantasies of doing something regarded feminine, fetishing breast feeding, etc. (Or a combination of the two) The question is WHY are we being asked as women, and as a society at large, to recognise and enable anyone’s complexes, self delusions, mental illness, and sexual fetishes as an actual reality – at the same time as we are being denied the right to be acknowledged as actual women and are deprived of the right to fight for our rights?

None of us have anything against the men who enjoy a bit of cross dressing. And certainly none of us want these men to be in harm’s way in any shape or form. (Which is, let’s face it, more than we can say about them in regards to the dangers we continually face as REAL women) Harm comes from other men, not women after all. They never had and still don’t have anything to fear from us. We don’t care about anyone’s fashion choices. But when we, as women are reduced to nothing but that (namely, a fashion choice), then yes we do mind. When we are told we are nothing but cosplay for men, a costume to be worn, then we do object. It was only when the TRAs (Trans Radical Activists) demanded that we betray language, truth, reality, basic common sense, our very safety and our own identity as a sex and as a class, on the altar of their newly formed movement, and were threaten that if we objected we would be silenced, publicly shamed, professionally destroyed, and of course, raped and killed, that we finally began to see the light.

What trans activists fail to understand, is that we were ALL naively on their side not so long ago. No woman minded ever, if what used to be called “transvestites”, “trannies”, “cross dressers”, “drag queens”, and the most accurate term of the all: “female impersonators” (all acceptable terms and even a source of pride for them, just a few years ago by the way) existed in this world. No woman objected EVER, to the men’s love of extravagant fashion, and glittery things and show tunes, who would call each other “fierce”, “queen” and “divas”. Why would she? It was always men who rejected them, not women. (It takes a LOT for women to reject men – of any persuasion – after all…) It was only when we were told that we are supposed to call these men “women”, and then were bullied to do just that, that we finally realised what we are dealing with. It was when we were told that it was expected of us to give up on our rights for their sake. To jeopardize our safety. To pretend we don’t mind that athletic girls who would rather climb trees than play with dolls, and who would probably grow up to be gay (or not) are told that they are boys and they ought to have double mastectomies, and hysterectomies, and take testosterone, and be deprived of the right to ever have kids, (or orgasms!) when they grow up. That teen boys who love theatre and poetry, are being cruelly castrated, because they’ve convinced them they are not boys because of that. That gay teens are being sterilised, and forced to go into the conversion therapy that is the “medical transitioning” in its essence, so that the gay in them will be reversed! That little children are being experimented on. That neither them or their parents are being informed about the life-long and often life-threatening health problems they will face because of the experimental (and costly) surgeries they were coerced to undergo so that the medical establishment will get the great financial rewards and the TRAs their pound of flesh. That women’s sports are being taken over by men who are being given metals for being cheaters! That women and girls are being harassed and raped in newly established “gender neutral” bathrooms, women’s prisons, hospital wards and changing rooms. That lesbians are being attacked for not being willing to have sex with men, who assure them that they are now “women” (!) That gay men are actualy called homophobic (!) and are being attacked when they don’t blindly obey and follow the TRAs agenda. It was when we saw that every inch we offer willingly, is stepped on, and acres are demanded. (And when not offered, then taken by force) It was only when we finally understood that there is a sinister side to this movement. And it was also only when we saw the kind of narcissists and sexual offenders were hiding underneath the cakey make-up. It was only then that the scales finally fell from our eyes. It’s neither hate nor any kind of phobia that stops us from becoming their allies again. It’s the lifting of the veil, that has shocked us, and shaken us to our core. The realisation that these are NOT harmless drag queens and hurt, lost “boys” who never grew up. Obsessed with their mums. Starving for attention. Playing the victim. These are actual predators who are out to get us. 

At this moment in time, the hijacking of feminism is pretty much a done deal.  It has been taken away from women by Trans-activists who are cunningly using “intersectionality” as a powerful woke bait, and as the perfect pretext for achieving this goal. Who would dare touch “intersectionality”, and not be burned, right? What it REALLY means of course, is that women are no longer allowed to centre themselves in their own movements, charities, organisations. The Trans ideology is particularly effective in this moment in time, when virtue signalling has become the driving force of most of what is happening on social media. This is especially relevant in the US of course, given the current political climate: Americans are looking to heal the political divide by cultural wars. By repeating the mantra of inclusivity and free speech (the soft spot of the neo-liberals), Transactivists are cunningly using the Left as their lackey, who is by now doing their dirty work, parroting their every statement, blindly advocating on their behalf while completely ignoring the plea of women who are losing their hard-won rights and their safety, and who are being demonized, simply for speaking the truth. Additionally, by igniting the well-established homophobic rage of the Christian Right, transactivists are appearing as the victims of prejudice and bigotry and by that, they are fortifying the Left’s alliance. AND creating hagiographies of themselves… It’s quite the trick. And when they are faced with actual reality-based arguments presented by feminists, all they have to do in order to shift the attention (and the blame) is equate these statements with what the Alt Right is saying. All they have to do, is showcase the nastiness of the homophobic comments of right-wingers and religious fundamentalists and put them in the same category as what feminists are saying. And the vilification of feminism is then complete. In short, Transactivists have both sides, the Left AND the Right fighting on their behalf (directly or indirectly), empowering their movement (and disempowering women) as they do.

When we – the actual women – point out the realities of the trans movement:

-When we talk of the danger men pose when they are allowed in women’s spaces; 

-When we express concern about sex offenders and violent, intact biological males who are being moved to women’s only prisons just because they suddenly claim to be “women”, who go on and assault and rape them;  

-When women’s sports are being destroyed because mediocre in the men’s categories transgender athletes are allowed to cheat by competing against women, obliterating them, and eventually elbowing them out of their own sports, who may be wearing women’s outfits and calling themselves by women’s names, but even when they have taken feminizing hormones, they still have the biology and the benefits of having gone through male puberty, and therefore, the bigger bodies, the bone structure, the higher red blood cells count and because of that, the endurance, speed and physical strength that are unmistakably male, and therefore one hell of an advantage over women;

-When we point out the absurdity of having trans-identifying males being time and again given “Woman of The Year” awards by various media organisations (because apparently not one single woman out of the 3.95 billion that walk the Earth is considered as suitable for such honours). 

-When men are being given key positions in Woman centred charitable or women’s Rights organisations that are then used not for the promotion of women’s interests, but as tools promoting the trans agenda; 

-When we express our utter shock that medical institutions have been bullied (or lured by the considerable financial rewards) into accepting the gender ideology and are willing to ignore scientific realities by remaining silent when it comes to the many dangers associated with gender reassignment treatments to minors, as well as disregarding biological sex when treating patients, putting their health and lives in danger;

-when we reveal the criminality that lies at the underbelly of this movement (the homicides, the sexual assaults, the pedophilia) which are not only putting women and children in danger (or in the grave) but are also now being reported by the police, the mainstream media, the sociological data and the sex offenders lists as being committed by women, just because these rapists, murderers and pedophiles are claiming to be ones;

-When we point out that biological realities cannot be subjected to anyone’s personal interpretations or ‘feelings;”  

-When we say that we are more than a fashion choice or a notion in a man’s head; 

-When we object to the erasure of female language or to the fact that our very nature, our very biology is seen as violations of trans Rights, 

then we are told we are trans-phobic that need to be outed as such and publicly shamed, for attacking them.

Additionally, when we reveal that laws and Employment Equity Acts which were especially designed to reverse the injustice that permeates our societies and leave women at an economic disadvantage, are now ignoring them and are benefiting trans identifying MEN who are being offered the very few high-paying job positions, the political posts, the deals, the accounts, the scholarships, the sponsorships, the grants, the entertainment awards, the artist accolades that were once reserved for women; or similarly, the fact that trans-identifying men are now being hired in decision-making positions so that employers are fulfilling their enforced by governments quota, AND avoiding to actually hire an ACTUAL woman, but still getting kudos for both hiring a “woman” AND for “her” being a trans “woman”); we again are told that we are bigots.

These men build their careers on male privilege and when they are claiming to be women, they, of course continue to enjoy these same privileges. Plus all our rights. When a man decides that he is now a ‘woman”, does he saunter on his high heels to his boss’s office and demands to be paid less? To be by-passed for promotions and bonuses? Does his boss suggest it? (He is now a “woman” after all! Shouldn’t he?) Or does he suddenly have to deal with the realities of being a working woman, splitting her time between work and all that unpaid and uncredited labour, the thousand thankless tasks that are equated with being a good wife, a good mum? A woman doing her job while having the menstrual cramps or the hot flashes from hell? Or while being pregnant? Or while her breasts are leaking milk because she thought of her new born baby at home? Locking herself in the bathroom to pump? (Or being judged as worthless if she has never given birth?) Doing all that AND facing prejudice and sexual harassment at every turn? Getting paid less; being judged primarily on the basis of her looks, not her ability, intelligence, education? Being groped, and leered at and cornered, and harassed and catcalled and spending half her life basically trying to avoid the possibility of male violence? While also trying to protect male egos? Doing all the things we all do, in feeble attempts to be safe? And once she reaches a certain age, regardless of her abilities, suddenly becoming invincible, unhiriable, and inconsequential as a professional (AND a human being), for no other reason than the men who have the upper hand in her working environment can only see her as a headless set of body parts, which they now reject? And additionally, do these self-declared, pretend women know how it feels to have their reproductive rights taken away from them by laws especially designed in order to keep them powerless? Are they forced to be punished for every ejaculation? To docilely give up their rights? To have no say in how their bodies are being used? Or to dutifully follow the doctrines of religions that abase them? (Which were created by men IN ORDER to abase them?) In short, what do these men know of what it means to be a woman?

The field of Arts and Entertainment is another great example of the special treatment trans identifying men get. If there’s one award to be given to one female and one male actor, singer, etc, and the one saved for women is given to a guy who claims to be a woman because he says so, (plus he does have lots of make up on, so it must be true), then it means 2 guys get awards, and no woman gets any. It’s that simple. Not only are they given the awards that are especially saved for female singers, female actors, writers etc, but trans identifying men are also being given more opportunities than ACTUAL women. (Despite the noise they make about being prejudiced and overlooked). Take for example the Wachowskis, the talented brothers who have written, directed and produced many seminal sci-fi genre films, most notably, The Matrix trilogy – never mind that was apparently created by a black woman (Sophia Stewart) who remained in obscurity. When they decided one fine day that they are not the brothers Larry and Andy but the sisters Lana and Lilly, they expected (much like every other man in their position) to be seen as women. But NOT be treated as women of course. If that was the case, would their occasional commercial / critical flops (such as “Jupiter Ascending” for example (or “The Matrix Resurrections” for that matter) be “forgiven? Would they still be given chance after chance to make movies even after they’ve failed? Or would they be given the chance to make that first movie back in 1994 if they were real women? (Sophia Stewart was certainly not!) Would they have been backed by the Hollywood system as newcomers? The answer is most definitely not! Female writers are given considerably less opportunities to even be in a room with anyone who can give them a chance, (let alone be actually given that chance), while female directors famously are even today, given ONE single shot at it – if any – and if their movie is not a huge commercial success they are not seen as worthy of second chances. Patty Jenkins for instance, has helped break barriers as a female director at the helm of a superhero movie. Her critically acclaimed movie “Wonder Woman” went on to gross over $800 million worldwide. Interestingly, it took her 13 whole years to be given a chance to even be considered as suitable. Even after she had a commercial and critical success in writing and directing Monster (2003), a movie that went on to win multiple awards, she was still seen as an unsafe bet, BECAUSE she was female. (As in ACTUAL female, not a pretend one) Even now, after two successful Wonder Woman movies, she and her heroine have been outs from the boys club that is the D.C universe: Wonder Woman 3 has been “canceled since it did not fit with the new DCU’s unfolding vision” (that is solely focused on male heroes –Even in a fantasy universe it’s only men who are seen as worthy of our attention)

When we point out the numberless cases – such as these above – in which trans identifying men are actually using their male privilege, we are told that this comes from a place of prejudice. (Ours!) When we talk about the incidents of actual violence women and girls have experienced in shared bathrooms, changing rooms, gender neutral hospital wards, we are being asked: but what about trans individuals? They too have faced violence. If we point out that they have not faced violence from women but from other men (many of which are, if you look closely at police reports, also trans), we are being told we are missing the point. Trans “women” are “harmless” because they are women after all. We have nothing to fear from them. When we offer specific, deeply disturbing incidents that refer to women and girls who have been harassed and assaulted by trans individuals in changing rooms, bathrooms, rape shelters, hospitals, or prisons, we are simply called transphobes. No argument can be used to defend women’s rights without the transphobe accusation muzzling us. And presenting facts makes no difference given that violence or at the very lest the threat of it, is never that far behind:

The website Terf is a Slur, for example, has documented the real face of gender ideology. What it’s really about. This is a site that publishes unedited screenshots from Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr, and other publicly accessible sites that target feminists. All of them deeply disturbing, all of them describing the ways with which those “virtuous” trans “women” who “deserve our kindness” and who are just “like us”, really feel about us. The moderators who handle the content have done nothing but simply repost what’s out there on the Internet. The numberless expressions of hate that is directed towards us. For no other reason than being women and daring to say so. There is even an entire section dedicated to the threats sent to J. K. Rowling, for bravely defending women’s rights, becoming the heroine we all needed in this moment in time, when all the female cultural icons have turned their backs on us in an effort to avoid the backlash, protect their millions, AND be bathed in the light of the “kind” ones. The trans “women” (biological males who regardless of sexual preference or proclivity – gay, straight, bisexual, and pedophiles – and yes of course, not all trans-identifying men are pedophiles, but the reality is there are many pedophiles hidden in women’s clothes) are using the trans identity to hide their misogyny – and as it turns out, their violent tendencies and criminality) are all threatening to use violence against anyone who challenges their preferred “gender identity”. The descriptions of raping, mutilating, murdering women, the seething rage that is aimed against anyone who was born a woman is pretty disturbing to read. The many (Oh, SO MANY!!!) trans “women”, making references to their “girl dick” and the ways with which they want to use it, to choke us in order to shut us up (yeah, the classics never go out of style). And the “advice” given to other trans “women” on how to mutilate us, kill us, what weapons to use, and how enjoyable it would be when they do it. And the photos of them kicking and hitting the hell out of women at feminist protests. 

We shouldn’t be surprised. All these guys with the girls’ names and the bad wigs, are just being their true self: men who hate women and are trying to shut them up by threatening to rape and / or kill them. Misogyny by the numbers. This is what men have been doing for thousands of years: creating support groups, bespoke theories, ideologies, political movements, made-in-their-image religions that support a very basic, a very common and well documented masculine need to shut us up by the use of violence. And then recruiting us to fight against our own interests, convincing us that this is actually noble, God’s wish, our “rightful” place, etc. In this case, a matter of Human rights. Convincing us that calling them men is hate speech, but them threatening to assault us, is “human rights”. It’s quite the trick. And being men, they are allowed to play it on us. 

The men who create these memes, these posts, these written threats and send them out there, are sadly (despite what we once all thought) not the exceptions to the rule. These are not random, rare exceptions of violence send by a handful of bad apples. This is the norm now. This is the Pavlovian response of this movement. Any woman who points out the obvious, who supports other women, who advocates about the safeguarding of children and the protection of women in female-only spaces, will receive a litany of similar “anti-terf” threats of violence. She will be publicly shamed, lose her job, her reputation, her livelihood, her peace of mind, her safety. This is what happens when you are dealing with a fascist movement. When you openly talk about your oppressors.

Transactivists are trying to shut down Terf is a Slur, and other similar websites that reveal the truth about their movement and others that report the many crimes perpetrated against women and children by trans identifying men, (like the Reduxxinfo, Transcribe UK, Decide For Yourself: Transgender Crimes, womenarehuman, ThisNeverHappens, etc). Instead of taking measures so that no more women and children will be victimised by trans-identifying men, they are focusing on silencing anyone who reports their crimes. In a typical MALE move, they are in short, concerned with silencing the victims of male violence instead of taking responsibility for their actions.

It’s a world gone mad. Social media are crowded with selfies of middle-aged men in heavy make-up, posing coyly and proudly listing their complicated, hours-long beauty regimes that are supposed to hide their male nature, asking the world to validate them by telling them they are “stunning”. And of course, “brave”! And asking us all to be “supportive” of them during their imaginary “periods; calling their male genitalia “girl dick” (even as they are threatening to rape women with it); demanding to be included in gynecological tests!; demanding that Genealogy / DNA test companies don’t mention to them that they have only one X chromosome and of course, “outing” them as “trans-phobic’ when they don’t falsify scientific documents to tailor their personal fantasies; giving each other tips on how to achieve their goal of becoming exaggerated caricatures of womanhood by pilling on the make-up and the layers of self-deception. How to speak in a deliberately high voice to sound feminine – each word a theatrical play they’ve rehearsed. Each word a lie. How to swing the hips they don’t have. How to make “girl-talk” (what is that I wonder in their male mind? Talking about nail polish and arranging pillow fights?) How to carry themselves with the unmistakable, deliberate intention of someone who is playing a role. And how to sit in a more “lady-like” manner crossing their legs without crushing their balls. (One tip is to practice crossing their legs for a few minutes per day, working up to a few hours, until their “lady nuts” as they call them, get used to being flat…)

We empathise with the struggle. We understand that it must be exhausting! All this effort, all the lies, all the effects and affectations, all that deliberate crashing of balls. And the world still not bursting into spontaneous applause the minute they enter any room. Unless it is on social media that is. Of course they are angry. Of course they are desperate. Of course they are going to turn all that self-hate onto us, who are effortlessly and by Nature, what they are trying to pretend to be and fail. Of course, it is maddening when they are told that they are a “dude” even by children. Of course, it is exhausting when the world doesn’t conspire on their behalf, even though, I’m sure, as men they have come to expect it. When not all of us are not willing to play along and cater to their self-delusions. But this thing is, truth is effortless. And stark. It does not require manipulation, interpretation, or anyone’s participation in order to exist. It just exists whether you conspire against it or not. When any of us enter a room, we don’t shout we are women. It is self-evident. It’s done. It’s the lies that need all that screaming, all the theatre, all that effort, all that convincing and drama. All the emotional blackmailing. It’s the bullshit that requires noise, threats, manipulation and propaganda tactics in order to be accepted as a reality.

Yes, there is something magnificently stubborn about the truth. It just wants to come out, no matter how many measures human beings take to disguise it. Criminals bursting into voluntary confessions in the middle of interrogations, our inability to fool polygraphs, our quicken pulse, our altered breathing and heart rates, our blushing skins, our faces that bend into a multitude of micro-expressions that reveal our lying, etc, etc. We see it in trans identifying men, calling themselves “women” too. The truth that wants to come out. We see their maleness. Even if we were to (somehow miraculously) fail to see their male bodies, we see their male privilege, their male misogyny, their male propensity to use violence – or at the very least the threat of it – against us. To prioritise their own needs, to elbow us aside, to speak over us, to violate our rights, to simulate our suffering, to plagiarise our struggles, to grab our accolades, to mansplained our very nature, to invade our hard-won safe spaces, to vilify our motives, to use our biology as a weapon against us, to even appropriate our very definition. And (same as always) to create theories, ideologies that justify their reasons, canonize their desires, hallow their need to keep us in our place. To colonize an entire sex. We recognize it. We’ve seen it before. It is unmistakably familiar. And it’s so old, it’s practically archaic…

That is why we know that there is man underneath the loud layers of feminine disguise. There is good old-fashioned seething misogyny hidden underneath the language of inclusivity, diversity, equality, kindness, acceptance, liberalism, intersectionality, progressive thinking, tolerance. Because only a man could hate us with such an intensity for simply speaking the truth. Only a man would threaten us with such ease, with such a degree of vehemence and desire to silence us. Only a man would work for our downfall with such a zealotic fervor. Simply for defending our place in the world. Because only a man would choose to attack a woman who uses words to defend herself, instead of other men who use actual violence against him! And sadly, because only a man could fool so many (MANY!) of us to defend him to our own detriment…

***

On the same subject, read also: “Biology Matters”

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Posted on the 4th of March, 2024. Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorised use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications. 


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Biology Matters

Woman: An Adult Female Human Being

Art & Words by Fanitsa Petrou

“…when they take away from us the power to name ourselves, to self-determined what we are, they also take away our power to define our place in this world, to articulate our pain, to safeguard our boundaries!…”

The appropriation of the female experience by trans-identifying men, who while enjoying male privileges are robbing women of the fundamental right of self-determination, and at the same time are being congratulated for the fact, is admittedly, a pretty nifty Patriarchal trick!

We are being told with hammering insistence by trans-activists and their many allies, for example, that sex is “assigned at birth”. As if by whim. But of course, it is not. It is observed. Using one’s eyes. And not even at birth, since it is evident from the early stages of pregnancy. But the term “assigned at birth” is useful to the political agenda of the trans movement, as it suggests a victimisation, a violation, a restriction that is cruelly enforced on the individual at the moment of birth by close-minded parents, and phenomenally ignorant medical stuff, taking away a child’s options. Conveniently, rendering sex, a matter of option. When we point out the obvious: that sex is by definition binary, not a ‘spectrum”; that genetics, DNA, how many X or Y chromosomes you were born with, cannot change just because any of us says so, we are told that we are hateful transphobes. But regardless of the political agenda of trans-activists, biology matters. It can’t be erased, altered or chosen. Which explains why men calling themselves trans “women” can still get prostate cancer, and why trans “men” face the same gynaecological conditions as the rest of us, including getting pregnant. No matter what they “self-identify” or what they choose to wear, their biology is irrefutable. What makes any of us male or female is anything but a choice. And even long after we die, scientists from the future will see our differently shaped skeletons and DNA remnants and will know exactly (and easily) what we were. Even if hundreds, or thousands of years go by…

Within Patriarchy, a woman is so insignificant, she is seen as nothing but a notional construction (in a man’s brain), and therefore any man can “become” a woman, simply by announcing it! And he is accepted and recognized as one, simply by mirroring the patriarchal supposition of what a woman is. (If that’s not power, I don’t know what is!) All the wonderful and complex things that make us women, are reduced in one stroke into a fashion choice. (How is it, that so many of us are perfectly fine with this?) And when they take away from us the power to name ourselves, to self-determined what we are, they also take away our power to define our place in this world, to articulate our pain, to safeguard our boundaries! By accepting that trans-“women” (that is: trans-identifying men) are “Women”, we are allowing men to change the definition of what a woman is, allowing them to gain access to, and dismantle all that we have fought for, in even more pervasive ways than before! (Who knew that it was possible?) 

“Biological” women are unfairly “privileged” we are now being told for example, in relation to trans “women” (that is, trans-identifying MEN), because “biological” women (or “cis women” as they now call us) have female sexual organs, which is apparently offensive as a reality, and seen as an actual threat to the rights of transgender individuals! So much so, that the Human Rights Campaign (HRC), the largest LGBT civil rights advocacy group in the United States, has suggested (back in 2017) that doctors use the term “front hole” instead of “vagina”, while the British Medical Association has suggested the term “pregnant people” as an alternative to “pregnant women” so that trans individuals are not “victimised” and “offended” by the biological realities of women… Of course, any woman who dares to point out the absurdity of that, is seen as a “TERF” (=Trans-Exclusionary Radical Feminist), as a deeply prejudiced individual who fails to see Trans-identifying men as “real” women. But a LOT has transpired since then. Now we are additionally being denied the right to call OURSELVES “women” because that would be “offensive” to the men who call themselves that. We can no longer say “I have the anatomy, the biology of a woman” with that not being seen as a vicious attack on trans identifying men’s “rights”. Interestingly, men simply saying “I’m a woman because I feel like I am”, or “I’m a woman because I like wearing dresses” is perfectly – and instantly – acceptable, and not at all an insult to us all. But the thing is, calling trans-identifying males by their preferred pronouns is not “kindness” and “inclusiveness”, as we naively once thought. And it is certainly not an act without consequences, as it is daily proving to be antithetical to respecting women’s rights, and an open invitation to allowing the corrosion of our boundaries, safety and the very existence of Women as a political class (or a reality). 

Yes, we can no longer say “I’m a woman” any more, without that being offensive to the men who have officially appropriated the term. When however, in order to denigrate us, they call us “bleeders”, “egg producers”, “menstruators”, “vulva owners”, “cervix havers”, “birthing bodies”, “chest feeders”, “bodies with vaginas”, “pregnant people” and “non-men, because the word “woman” has been colonized by them, and it no longer belongs to us, we are denied the right to even object. How is it that so many, intelligent, well-intentioned individuals still fail to see the disrespect, the disdain, the mockery, the unmitigated contempt, the sheer misogyny that is hidden behind such words? That these terms are advertised as “inclusive”, but are the very opposite: they were crafted for the specific purpose of EXCLUDING women from their very sex, and from the very language that describes them, in order to rob them of the right to define themselves, and by that, DEFEND themselves. To trivialize their experience as actual females. To punctuate the message that the term “woman” is now taken. By them. By men!

(Like I’ve written elsewhere) a woman’s nature is not debatable, it is not a matter of interpretation, it cannot be undone (Or in its essence really be adopted. Only crudely masqueraded.) In a world that defines women merely by their body parts, that devaluates them BECAUSE of their biology, how interesting is it, that the essence of what they are, is so complex, and inimitable and so much more than merely that? A woman is still a woman if she has gone through hysterectomy, through mastectomy, clitoridectomy, or if she has not given birth, but a man’s masculinity is obviously a pretty fragile thing (literally as well as metaphorically). Men’s sexual organs (and mysteries…) are overt and uncomplicated. Men do not centre their sense of self around who, what they are (not really), but literally on their equipment. A knife can then un-man them, take away from them that which defines them. Diminish them, turn them into lesser beings (which is to say, “feminize” them) A concept that reveals not only what they really think of women (aka as penis-less, and therefore lesser creatures), but also of themselves as well: there’s nothing much else to them, other than their penis… Minus that, they actually think they become that which they secretly loath-and-envy: women! Which is of course where their trans self-delusions begin. Most of the contemporary trans-identifying men will of course not even go to such lengths. Despite of the fact that they want the entire world to acknowledge their new “identity” and they want us to unquestionably commit to it, they, themselves, won’t commit to it fully: unlike what many of us think, the vast majority of them will not go for castration (chemical or physical). All they will do is buy a dress, a wig, some fake breasts and some nail polish, and Voilà: they are self-proclaimed women. Because that is how they see us: as nothing more than their perception of femininity as determined within Patriarchal culture. Given that women are objectified and seen as nothing but the sum of their fuckable characteristics, a man’s symbolic castration is achieved by the mere mimicking of a woman’s outward appearance: any man in a dress, a pair of high-heeled shoes, long hair and painted nails, is automatically seen as a woman…

Biology has no place in the matter we are being told, and focusing on it, is equated with bigotry, because it has nothing to do with being a woman! But how can any of us defy our biology? It has shaped our journey, and the way it has been used against us, for thousands of years, has defined our place in this world. When man-made, self-serving religions and philosophies and theories and medical “sciences” and societal norms and laws were being constructed, bit by bit, by men, they used our very biology as a proof that we were “inferior” to them. Based on that, they proclaimed themselves as the “default” human beings in order to keep us subjugated: our smaller bodies, our lack of violent tendencies as well as our lack of muscle mass that couldn’t cause any damage to theirs when they attacked us, gave them the “authority” to rape and assault us with immunity, and on top of that, (and because of that) call us inferior to them, subhuman. And in turn, it also caused us to be in constant need of them so that we would be protected by the violence of other men who were always lurking out there. Which made us (literally, and by law, and for thousands of years) the legal property of our protectors / husbands who had the right to have sexual, economic, social authority over us. In short, our biology was always unfairly contrasted to that of males, and the differences between the two sexes were always seen as a “proof” that theirs is “superior” and our subjugation a “nessesity”. Men’s power is based on NOTHING other than our own physical powerlessness, which forces us into submission. This has defined how we are being treated, and why we are still being threaten, prejudiced against, silenced, used and abused. Individually and collectively, and for thousands of years. In short, male perceptions of what female biology is, were fundamental in our exploitation through the centuries, as these perceptions were used as a “proof” of a woman’ s “inferiority”, and as an excuse for her social exclusion, sexual exploitation, and economic dependency on men through marriage. And it ultimately gave men license to objectify, devaluate, dehumanize, intimidate, control, humiliate, abuse, assault, rape, kill us

Everything about our biology was seen as “sub-par”. Our periods would brand us as filthy, mad, lunar witches. Our menopause which was coincident with maturity and an increased bravery, was believed to turn us into “crazy” dangerous bitches with “wandering wombs” that needed to be fixed with unnecessary cruel surgeries, isolation, or with confinement in mental institutions. Our sexuality was seen as an abomination and a threat. Our female bodies that triggered lustful thoughts in religious leaders of any persuasion of any century, were for this reason, branded as shameful in every religion (men created in their OWN image), and every woman was seen as the source of all sin, for simply existing in the same world as them, causing them to question their ability to walk on the path of self-righteousness they themselves had curved on stones. And their own male biology, (their aggression, their propensity for violence, their lack of discipline and respect for our boundaries, their own state of perpetual horniness they couldn’t tame, and which dominated their thoughts), informed their perception of us (rather than cause any degree of self-awareness in THEM) and became the building blocks with which their ideologies, religious doctrines, holy books, legal theories, philosophies, artistic creations, “sciences” about our OWN “inferior” and “sinful” natures, were constructed! 

Our ability to birth every single person that had ever walked on this planet was downplayed, and then used against us, in order to keep us homebound, confined, powerless. It was trivialized instead of appreciated, so that men’s own minuscule one-second long contribution would be glorified! A woman bleeds monthly for as many as 45 years, the equivalent of the blood that runs through the bodies of 52 males in her lifetime, so that she can have the possibility – not even necessarily the ability – to bring life into this world. (Imagine what men would do with that fact, if it was THEM doing the bleeding – or God help us all, the birthing of human beings! The theories and religions and laws they would come up with, to justify their “superiority” over us, based on that alone! The nonsense about the sacredness of their male blood that would be formed into religious doctrines) And then a woman goes through the horrors of pregnancy and labor, and feeds her baby from her very body, but since the dawn of Time, it is a man’s sperm that was seen as the great magical ingredient in the creation of human beings. And his seconds long “contribution”, the most important part of it all. And therefore, the child a woman births will (even to this day, more often than not!) take the patronymic of the father, and because of that, sons (not daughters! NEVER daughters!) will be considered the continuation of HIS blood line (Never hers. Never the Mother’s own!) Much like the wife gladly takes the name of her husband (in fact she is indoctrinated to consider it even now, an honour!) as if her own family name – and blood line – never existed (or meant a thing!)  

Entire religions were created to assure men that they matter more than us, and that their own biology was “superior” to ours, which gave them right to have unquestionable access to our bodies! God is a male entity, a Father we were told, and HE created the world. Not a female one. Not a primordial Mother. (Which would make 100% more sense, if symbolism AND reality are anything to go by) Eve came from Adam’s rib we were told. One of the many myths created so that women’s creative powers would appear as insignificant. So that men would appear as the sole source of life. If Adam existed, it was he who came out of a woman of course, not the other way round. How interesting is it, that it was (and is) easier to believe that a man had a pregnant rib, rather than a woman gave birth to a man! And yet, it was a notion that survived through the centuries and spread the word that we are biologically inferior, with no life-giving abilities! Despite the blatant daily evidence of the opposite, that takes place since the Dawn of Time. A notion that is common in many patriarchal religions and traditions. In Greek mythology, for example, it was believed the mighty goddess Athena, the most powerful of them all, was born not out of a mother, but from her father Zeus’s forehead… Which would explain why she was powerful… And now we retrograde again: simply saying that women give birth to children, or that women have wombs or periods, is actually considered hate speech! 

What is happening now, is in many respects, NOT new. Men have been trying to control our biology and redefine it in ways that would rob women of their power and so make their subjugation easier, for thousands of years. The celebrated Greek philosopher Aristotle for example, came up with the notion that men are the sole “life givers”, and women are merely the “incubators”, the “potting soil” for the precious male “live seed”. Aristotle, (like I’ve written before)  also claimed that mothers have no actual relation to their own children, since they are merely the “hosts” for as long as the pregnancy lasts. (That is why in ancient Greece, matricide was not considered a crime, while patricide was a very severe one…) A notion that was also a popular ancient Hebrew belief.  In Aristotelian terms, (much like in the dystopian world of Margaret Adwood’s The Handmaid’ s Tale), mothers were merely the wombs that brought children into the world, and fathers had the reproductive ownership of those children (a tradition that survives to this day, in many places around the world of course). His theory has influenced Western thinking for centuries, and has left a lasting mark on Muslim and Judeo-Christian traditions (as evident in the utterly misogynistic writings of the Church Fathers – see below), and is finding new believers in present-day Christian religious fundamentalists and US Right Wingers: a good example is Rep. Justin Humphrey  had claimed back in 2017 (in his efforts to pass one of the many American anti-abortion Bills) that a woman is merely a “host”, and once she decides to be “irresponsible” by having sex (the guy with whom she is having this sex, is of course blameless, just like in the Bible…) her body “is no longer her own” because she will always be a potential “host”! 

Pythagoras may be known for his mathematical theorem, but he also came up with the theory of “spermism”, which claimed that fathers contribute the essential characteristics of their offspring, while mothers are just the “passive vessels” and contribute only a material substrate (the “surface” on which life given by the father, is “deposited”). A theory that in turn influenced 18th-century Christianity, as expressed in “preformationism” (or preformism), which was only one of the many similar theories that attempted to offer “evidence” that women are just “nurturers” and not actual parents to their kids! This particular theory, claims that there is a ‘homunculus”, (an actual miniature man!) inside every sperm, whom scientists actually claimed to be able to see through their microscopes (or should I say magic spheres?) and that of course offered a so-called “scientific” proof that only men give life… 

That laughable misogynist, Freud, also had it wrong. We DON’T have a penis envy. (WHY would we?!) It was always men who were secretly in awe and envious of the complexities of the female body: trans identifying men are now shoving tampons up their asses and smearing their male intact organs with frozen tomato juice to simulate menstruation. They have drag shows in which they actually make fun of abortion by splashing red paint on their fake pregnant bellies! They are taking synthetic hormones and apparently an anti-nausea drug, to induce “lactation”, and then go on and “breastfeed” their babies, even though according to doctors, “there is no evidence to say this is safe” (or that it is milk…) And yet they don’t stop them! Because men must be placated, and their delusions, as well as their sexual fantasies and fetishes must be respected at all costs. (Apparently there’s a whole porn subculture that has sexualised the act of “trans breastfeeding”!)   Instead of feeling sick by the idea, and deeply worried about their mental state and the health and safety and future of those poor kids, we are supposed to be moved by such acts, to applaud them, congratulate them, and on top of that, call these (obviously mentally disturbed) men, mothers! Women! A term that seems to only be relevant to them now. If to anyone at all. The Church of England for example, has recently announced that “There is no official definition of a woman”! Considering they knew who and what Eve was, and claimed that everything was her fault, and that every woman was “carrying her Original Sin” that caused the Fall of the entire humanity and all that, and considering they’ve embraced the misogyny of the bible to keep women out of any roles in the Church for hundreds of years specifically on account of their “inferior sex”, we can’t help but find it surprising they now say they don’t know what one is. 

The Church Fathers, (Catholic, Orthodox, Anglican, Lutheran and everything in-between) certainly knew what a woman was when they were demanding that she accepts man as her rightful “master” – as all slaves ought to do… In their many “Holy” writings, they ordered her again and again to “be silent” (St Paul was particularly keen on that one), they called her “inferior in nature and law, wrote that she is “evil above all other evil, snakes and venom against which no medicine is good” and assured men that her life’s purpose is to “serve and satisfy their libido” and that she is a temple built on a sewer”, a “bag of excrement” and of course “the devil’s door”…  They wrote that anyone who touches her during “her filthiness” (period) would also be “filthy”, and urged men to stone virgin girls for “allowing” men to rape them. And they had their own twisted views on how the sexes are formed (The male seed gives birth to perfect shapes, that is, masculine, but if for some adversity it fails, then it gives birth to females, because in coitus with a woman there’s only deformities, turpitude, filth, filth.”) The list of misogynistic utterings which were described as “sacred” and the “Word of God”, is long and deeply disturbing. All of it written by “great”  theologians, “holy” men and actual “Saints”, who were venerated for their virtue through the centuries (St. John Chrysostom, St Paul, St. Thomas Aquinas, St. Augustine, St. Ambrose, Tertullian, St Ireneus, St Jerome, Clement of Alexandria, Saint Albert the Great, et. et.) These examples are nice reminders that men have been saying nasty things about women for thousands of years without anyone questioning them, and without that having ANY consequences on them. On the contrary – and much like present day trans identifying men – they were revered because of it.

We shouldn’t kid ourselves that this archaic nonsense is gone. All of it had survived through the centuries shaping men’s view of what we are. And women’s views of what we can’t be. (And how much bullshit we ought to accept unquestionably) All of it, is still happening somewhere in some form or other, giving men license to silence, intimidate, oppress, assault, kill us. It has survived equally in the Jewish, Muslim and Christian traditions. And in the “new”, mostly American “born-again” Churches that merrily revive misogyny, and in the fundamentalism of the Far Right political parties, that strive to ban abortion and place back in the hands of men the full control of Women’s Reproductive Rights, in the US and elsewhere. And in the hypocrisy of the Leftist parties that are destroying women’s Rights for the sake of virtue signaling. And it has gloriously survived in the entitlement of (trans identifying) MEN who even today, still believe they are the only ones who can define what a woman is, and are allowed to say whatever they want about women with immunity. And sadly, it has also survived in the internalized misogyny of women as well, who would rather stand by a man who lies, rather than by a woman who fights for them. 

Men pretending biology is not important, (only when it comes to women of course), and appropriating a woman’s nature, is hardly new… The primordial envy of the procreative capacity of women is as old as their need to subjugate us. In short, as old as Patriarchy itself. This is how our devaluation was allowed and excused. None of it would happen without our biology being what is it. That thing men objectify, lust after, loath, fear, and envy. And need to control, by religious, political means, ideologies, and violence. Contemporary trans-identifying men pretending biology is irrelevant to the reality, nature and experience of being a woman or appropriating a woman’s biology for their own means, while at the same time disrespecting her, is hardly novel or specific to their own Trans subculture: trans men, gay men and straight men are all in agreement win that one…

There’s a new cringe trend for example on social media (that eerily brings to mind the Handmaid’s Tale), with gay men posing lovingly for the camera, facing each other and holding hands (relax, that is NOT the cringe part) and in the distance, somewhere lost in the background, is their surrogate: a pregnant woman with her head always facing down dutifully, holding her belly. She is always kept in the shadow, an outline of a pregnant figure. A faceless, nameless womb for hire. Servicing men’s needs. Women’s biology mattering only when, and for as long as it it is useful to men. A female body to be used and discarded. Money exchanging hands making it all OK. (Same as it ever was…) Because adopting a child that is already born, and in need of love, is rarely a good enough solution. Their precious sperm MUST be involved in the transaction. Why shouldn’t they think like that? They are not the ones who are paying the real price after all. Much like heterosexual men in a similar position, all it takes for them is spending a few minutes masturbating while watching porn. The blood shedding, the pain, the actual sacrifices, are still, (despite all the fanfare about gender identity) a woman’s domain. (Funny how even those who are using the “Trans women are Women” mantra like a weapon against us, and who are outraged when we point out that biology and sex are a reality, when they want a surrogate they turn to an actual woman, not to a man pretending to be one…)

Similarly, straight men are invited to cut the umbilical cord of their baby, are praised, glorified for the fact. Because this is what we, as women do. This is what society at large does: we placate men, we are pandering to their need to feel important even when they do nothing to justify it. We include them where they have no place to be. We allow them to partake in our feminine “mysteries” so that they can feel important, respected. Thousands of years of oppression has taught us that we ought to. If we are to survive. Similarly, the men who are offered the gift of witnessing the miracle that is their child’s birth, have also somehow managed to make it about themselves. We are expected to congratulate them for their “bravery”, for simply witnessing that which someone else (their wife) was actually doing, through pain and suffering! We are also expected to congratulate them for their “sensitivity” if they couldn’t take it and left the room. And if they fainted? Well, we better build them a statue! They are the same sort of men who will also use the plural when talking about their wife’s pregnancy: as in we are pregnant”, “we have morning sickness” “we have braxton-hicks contractions”, “we decided to breastfeed”. Their appropriation of the female experience will of course be considered by most women out there (including their wife who is the one who is actually going through all that), as an expression of compassion, instead of what it often is: a mans-plaining of sorts. A lame shot at the spotlight. A cost-free for them, appropriation of the female experience disguised as empathy… (A need that is obviously present in all men – trans, gay or straight)

Womanhood is not the wearing of dresses, the painting of the nails, the make-up, the high heels, the long hair, the passivity, the sexual availability and eagerness to please men. The gender specific characteristics, in short, that Patriarchy has decided are the definition of femininity. Womanhood is not a matter of perception, interpretation, preference, choice, or a feeling. It’s tough, it’s painful, it’s dangerous, it comes with heavy costs. That is why when we are being told that men “experience life as a woman” we have to laugh. Because we know for a fact that they don’t. As long as they don’t know what it means to have a period, a menstruation crump, a pregnancy, labour pains, a child birth, a miscarriage, an abortion, a hot flash, an episiotomy; they don’t know what it means to experience the pain or unpleasantness of pap smears, mammograms, IVF. They don’t know the endless variation of dangers we face: obstructed labour, postpartum bleeding, eclampsia, postpartum infection, birth asphyxia, neonatal hypothermia, postpartum depression, maternal mortality and the many female related gynecological disorders: Endometriosis, Fibroids, Polycystic ovary syndrome, Menstrual disorders, Ovarian cysts, Uterine prolapse, Infertility, Irregular bleeding, Pelvic inflammatory disease, Vaginitis, Cervical disorders, Dysmenorrhea, Female Genital herpes, Urinary Tract Infections, Heavy menstrual bleeding, Infections, and the different types of gynecologic cancer. 

We are not just our biology I hear many of you say. No, we are not. But biology is not something we can ignore. It defines how we are being treated, how we have always been treated by men (of any persuasion. Or fashion choices). And that in turn, informs who we become. It defines our place in this world. Unlike trans-identifying men, we don’t need to convince anyone of who we are, by creating ideologies and using political agendas and threats to push the message. We know we are women. Our bodies tell us. That quicksilver running through our veins at puberty, and the self we are forced to leave behind for good at that moment. The innocence that we lose forever at the end of childhood (while boys are allowed to prolong theirs, indefinitely. Often, well into old age) The understanding that hits us like a brick. The constant vigilance against the ever-present threat of male violence, that will guide our steps from then on. Making our lives smaller. The endless precautions we will be taking every day of our lives. Because we are seen as nothing but bodies. Because no matter what we do, what we are, what we achieve, none of it will matter. Only our bodies. Our age. Our shape. In short, our fuckability. A man’s (any man’s) approval… And it is also the blood we monthly bleed. That signal our body sends us, as it prepares us for the possibility of a pregnancy. Whether we want it or not. Whether it will ever happen, or not. The cramps that double us up in pain while we soldier on, going through our day, not letting anyone know (and which would make grown men cry) And it is the constant fear of pregnancy; the painful or costly, or downright unpleasant or even seriously harmful in its side-affects birth control method, that it’s been decided it is solely our OWN responsibility – because the outcome will also be our own, life-long burden to bear. Because men don’t concern themselves with such things. (Only with the passing of laws to control our OWN bodies) And it is the pregnancies, the morning sicknesses, the cravings, the prayers we whisper in the dark as we feel a body growing in our belly. Elbowing our insides. As our own body expands and changes to contain it. It is that extra heartbeat in our body. And it is the darkness that covers us when we stop feeling it beating. The devastation that we will carry forever for the loss of a child we named, whose life we pictured, who was literally part of us, and who was gone before we even met it. And for most women, it is the cruelty of childbirth. That primitive and bloody business of bringing a human being into the world through excruciating pain. And it is the way the body will remember that pain it suffered, which will bond them forever with that child that came out of them, in ways that are simply alien to fathers. To men. And it is the baby’s cells that will migrate from mother to child and vice versa, healing each other (in the miracle that is called “fetal maternal microchimerism” which was not discovered until the 90s – science being slow at discovering all the wondrous mysteries the female body holds) when the baby’s DNA will leave a permanent imprint in their body for years, which remains embedded in both their tissues, becoming a permanent part of them! And it is the milk that will flow from them when their baby is hungry. Which will flow, even when someone else’s baby is crying in their vicinity. Because biology will send its primal signals. That biology that we are told is not significant to who we are. To what a woman is. And then it is the blood that will run out. That will leave us finally free from the monthly draining, but also, force us to take another evolutionary step drenched in new sufferings and new bravery, and new understandings of ourself. It is the sleeplessness caused by it, and the night sweats and the brain fog, and those moments when we will feel like our head is being shoved inside a 2,000-degree kiln, which if they lasted a second longer, they would burn us alive. And it is also our multiple orgasms, and the complexity of our thoughts and the depth of our emotions, and our ability to connect with others on levels that are just deeper… And it is our longevity too: our body and spirit’s ability to survive against ALL these odds! 

And it is the body that ages and gets bigger, in a world that tells you it shouldn’t. Never. EVER! Because it is forbidden for you. Only for you. If you are a woman that is. So, for so many, it is also the life-long hunger, the deprivation they will impose on themselves. The ever present fear of rejection, (which they will mask as “health consciousness” of course) The need to be stuck in time in a prepubertal body, regardless of their age. The relentless effort to dutifully discipline a body that naturally graves comfort and pleasure and roundness. Because approval is not willingly offered to biological females who actually look like ones at their respective ages. Who are not eager to self-punish and walk the line. (The struggle against ageing and fat are the ONLY truly permissible – and universally acknowledged as necessary – fights a woman is allowed to have after all). The British comedian Eddy Izzard calls himself a “girl” at 62. How hilarious is that? Can you imagine a woman of his age doing the same? Or dressing as he does while being his age, and being gloriously accepted as he is, for doing both? Or indeed looking like he does dressed as he is dressed, and not being ridiculed, judged, publicly shamed? The request for high standards of perfection and flawless beauty and eternal youthfulness is saved for the REAL females. Any man (of any age, size, and shape) in a leather mini skirt, awkwardly sashaying on his high heels will be called “beautiful”, and let us not forget,”stunning!”, regardless for how he actually looks like. Because they KNOW he’s a man. Because looks still matter ONLY if you are a woman. (In this man’s world, that we all pretend that is changing…) 

In short, being a woman is not about our clothes. It’s about a history of objectification, prejudice, and violence, which we all carry in our collective past as an oppressed class. And it is about our biology, our spirit, and the dangers we still face, and the multitude of wondrous things that our female bodies can create, and endure, and enjoy, in ways that are alien to men – regardless of their fashion choices and “preferred” pronouns. That are specific to our very binary sex – not anyone’s perception of it! That are unmistakably linked to our female nature. That are our core. That collectively spell out what a WOMAN can only be: An Adult FEMALE Human Being. 

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Posted on the 20th of March, 2024. Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorised use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications. Feel free to share on social media, by using the link.

On the same subject, read also: “That’s a Dude”


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The Woman in the Mirror – “Ageing is Not For Sissies” – Part II

The Woman in the Mirror

– “Ageing is Not For Sissies” – Part II –

Art & Words by Fanitsa Petrou

… In this era of proud porn watchers, public masturbators, outed sadists, and closeted pedophiles, it is heterosexual women who are paying the price in relationships… 

John Berger in his famous quote had it right: “Men look at women. Women watch themselves being looked at… A woman must continually watch herself. She is almost continually accompanied by her own image of herself. Whilst she is walking across a room or whilst she is weeping at the death of her father, she can scarcely avoid envisaging herself walking or weeping”(“Ways of Seeing”)

That’s pretty accurate. Even at their darkest hour, even when they are mourning the death of a loved one, women are still on display. They are still being seen as bodies doing this and that. Not as human beings. Not really. Not wholly! They are forever caught in the beauty pageant that is their life. The beauty pageant they’ve entered unknowingly, somewhere in their teens. While they are crashed and crying for the loss of a loved one, they are being judged on the basis of their age, and weight, and clothes, and hair, and behind, and breasts, and also, as they are crashed and crying, they are at the same time aware that they are being judged on the basis of their age, and weight, and clothes, and hair, and behind, and breasts… Men will watch them obsessively, measuring their degree of hotness, grading their fuckability. Women will watch them with an almost equal hunger, measuring how they compare to them, how threatening or unthreatening they are. Because that is how contests work: they only have one winner. They only have one beauty queen! (And many judges)

We are objects in men’s eyes, all of us. And that’s the thing isn’t it? We are constantly, and for the entirety of our lives (not just in our youth), on display: we are being watched, measured, scored, judged, compared, approved, and eventually rejected (“Ay, there’s the rub!”) Our sense of self is therefore largely defined by this impending rejection. Which means, insecurity and fear are constant companions, as our place in this world is not defined by our qualities as human beings, but by the way we are perceived by those who watch us. And if you have a shred of belief in your worth as a an individual and are by some miracle free from the need to find validation in other’s people eyes, then this turn tricky: you experience this as a constant invasion, as a violation, as a prison. As an insult, not as a compliment. But not many women have that. That shred of belief in their worth as individuals. OR the luxury to feel anything other than pieces of meat on display. It takes a lot of work to get there. It takes confidence, and self-awareness, and inner strength. It takes being opened to the realities of Patriarchy too. It takes finally reaching a point when you are finally ready to shout “Fuck You!” That’s how feminists got their bad reputation of not being sufficiently “feminine” (perky, obedient, lenient, hungry for compliments and rings, eager to please, scared of ageing, carbs and bad hair days.) Sooner or later, they reach a point when they stop giving a fuck. Or at the very least, less of a fuck… A life of perpetual discomfort and pretences becomes eventually unbearable. They may not all go Andrea-Dworkin-in-overalls kind of full-throttle, but they are likely to relax eventually into their own selves. Which inevitably means they may finally be ready to say goodbye to self-imposed life-long starvation, high-heels or botox (that translates in getting rid of that old hungry need for men’s gaze and women’s jealousy).

But not many women get there. Insecurity, self-loathing and the need for validation having been so carefully planted in our psyche so early and for so many generations: “You have to be young and pretty (not to mention agreeable), in order to have your worth be validated by a man’s approval, his lust, and therefore eventually, his promise of financial support in the form of a marriage proposal. (For as long as you are still young and pretty and agreeable of course)”, we were told in a thousand different ways by a thousand different sources. That’s the bottom line of Patriarchy. Females are helpless. And in constant need of support. Men are powerful. And in constant need of beautiful sexual partners. So beauty for women equals security. Power for men equals accessability to sex. And by tightly clinging onto our “beauty ideals”, we, as women, also cling onto these patriarchal notions! This is the ugly truth of the matter.

Not many men will care to see “All of you” as the corny John Legend song (that unsurprisingly makes women cry out loud at weddings) goes. Likewise, not many men around, who would not be scared by their wife’s ageing that gradually steals away from her, her looks (as it does to them, but that’s insignificant of course) and at the same time, makes her practically unable to deal with any more bullshit. That’s a lethal combination isn’t it? Being both older AND more brave. That’s some scary shit! No wonder men run away from marriages and wives, as soon as middle age arrives. Nothing prepares them after all, for what it implies. Women are forced by life, by biology, by the realities of Patriarchy (of which they become gradually aware) to finally take a giant evolutionary step forward at middle age. That is why after that first shock that they are ageing (that can last a couple of years, or a whole decade, depending on how many eggs they have placed in that “please-like-me” basket) they usually find their feet and discover a new, braver self. And then predictably, their eyes are opened to the truth of what their marriages were really about, too.

That is why middle age and what comes after it, is a time of revelations, and power, and self-realisation and of rage too, for many women. Rage, not because they are ageing, but because they finally realise that they have wasted their youth trying to become smaller so that they would fit in other people’s (well, men’s mostly) tiny boxes. Trying not to make any waves, so that their husband’ s path would be undisturbed by the mere fact they existed and had needs and dreams of their own. But it is a process: there are a LOT of still delusional, still grasping-on-their-youth-and-their-porn-addict-husbands forty year olds around us. And there are a lot of fifty year olds, slowly finding their lost voice, as marriages are breaking up and old dreams they had to forget, are allowed to resurface. And there is an army of angry, divorced, fierce sixty year olds too, leading the way for the rest of us, as they are rediscovering their integrity and their truth, and their feminism and their rage, which they were forced to swallow, to burry, so that marriages would work and families would not fall apart. The reason it takes so long for a woman to find her power, is because it takes this damn long for her to let go of the need to be approved as worthy of a man’s attention. Once a woman looses her vanity, her fear about her powerlessness, and her illusions about the “importance” and “sanctity” of marriage, once the need for empty compliments and security (she will pay dearly in order to have of course) are gone, a new life begins! That is why sixty seems to be such a liberating age for so many women out there. (And the happiest, statistics tell us!)

That’s how women get to evolve emotionally and spiritually more than men: by their forever changing biologies, by their constantly readjusted navigational system. By their pain. Evolution is forced upon us it seems, from the moment we hit puberty. We can’t escape it. As our body continuously, exhaustingly, changes, we change (physically, psychologically, mentally, spiritually) along with it. And as the world’s perception of us changes, we are forced to turn inwards. And we adjust. We adopt (we know the score!) We evolve. And we survive! That’s no small thing!

Men are spared from similar urgencies. That’s why they fall apart at the first news of a health scare. That is why they jump off buildings if they loose their money or status. That’s why they die younger too. It’ s not the actual events that crash them (illness, heart-attacks, cancer, scandals, bankruptcy), it’s the idea that such things can (could ever!) happen to THEM! And it’s the idea that they are mortals! (Who knew?!) It’s about the loss of their power and control. Women experience monthly a little death – and countless rebirths in their lifetime! And they are used to heartbreak, failure, rejection, bullying, violence, fighting constantly against the odds, and cruel expiration dates from an early age. They are not that easy to break. Throughout their entire lives, they are soaring past obstacles that continue to come their way. (Weaker sex my ass!)

Men on the other hand, begin their life wrapped in a blanket of love, or at the very least, acceptance. In many cultures they are still considered to be the carriers of names and bloodlines, the special, the “good” offsprings. The only ones that count. Their births are welcome events that deserve celebrations, (while girls’ s births are equated with sorrow, desperation, shame, lamentation, and for millions of them, even murder -see: infanticide!) And no matter where they are from, no matter what kind of men they are, most of them will be forgiven for their faults, as children or adults. They will be daily cared for, adored AND respected by mothers, wives, and daughters (How many women can say that about fathers, husbands, even sons? So many, many of them will on the contrary, face violence, even death by their very hands…) Most men are therefore forever stuck in a kind of prolonged childhood where entitlement is seen as a natural right, privilege is unquestioned, toys provided, lenience given, accountability not required, punishment for crimes they perpetrate against women, largely avoided. Where things are demanded, and then, for no other reason than they have demanded them, are granted! Where there is no constant, daily threat of violence. No fear, no voice saying they are not “good enough”, “worthy enough”, “righteous enough”, “beautiful enough”, “young enough”, “slim enough”. There are no age-long traditions conspiring against them. There are no entire religions created in order to disempower them. Assuring them they are inferior. There are no laws that discriminate against them for no other reason than they are the “wrong” sex. There are no governments regulating their body and their sexuality. Their bodies are not seen as objects to be bought and sold. There is no entire world rejecting them. Holding flashlights, and magnifying glasses two inches from their skin, counting blemishes, and citing faults. And so, no need to look at mirrors (actual or hypothetical), and therefore, no need to change, adjust, or indeed, evolve. Middle age, and then old age, are for most of them, hardly reasons for introspection. That is why they predicably tend to turn to a young woman’s body in order to work out their own unacknowledged ambivalence about their mortality and their fear of declining potency (their only true enemies) A young woman’s body works for them you see, as a kind of enchanted mirror, in which they are hoping to capture a glimpse of who they used to be.  Because they don’t want truth, they want lenience: the ultimate gift offered by needy young women who can still afford to act impressed, because they don’t know any better. And because they still have time on their hands, and are therefore still corrupted by hope! (That hope that “maybe he is the One”, or that “deep – wayyy deep – down inside he must be a good guy” that corrupts us all) That’s precious for men isn’t it? To have us act impressed. And this is the thing about women over forty: we no longer want to act impressed. We want to BE impressed!

Ageing sucks, yes. Who can deny it? But it is also one hell of an eye opener. And everything comes with a cost right? If you are going to have those eyes opened, you better pay it with crow’s feet… Seems fair actually. Not that it’s easy, since within Patriarchy, a woman is nothing but the sum of her body parts. (And they better be youthful!) So, yes ageing is a pain, but it’ s also a gift. Not to mention, it is the result of living: the more living you do, the more you age. The more you feel, the more Time marks you. And the less you allow yourself to feel, the less you evolve. And there is something amazing in that. To quote Indiana Jones:It’s not the years honey. It’s the mileage” , which forms a beautiful equation you must admit! So don’ t be afraid of Time and its signs on you. It means that you have lived. Wear your wrinkles, your altered body, like badges of glory! They are not diminishing your power, they are fortifying it. And they are not only marking your Time on this Earth, but your battles, your inability to compromise, your acts of kindness, your fear, your losses, your passion, your desire, your laughter, your desperation, your darkest thoughts, your perseverance, your triumphs, your suffering, your evolution! They were given to you by tough childhoods, and rebellious teen years, and crazy youthful days, and nights that would not dawn. They were given to you, by a pregnancy you hoped for but never came, or  a pregnancy that was a nine-month long nightmare. By the pain you endured at childbirth, by the dangers you’ve escaped, by sleepless nights you’ve spent beside a sick kid, or a sick parent. By the jokes you’ ve told, the love you’ve shared, the kisses you’ve cherished, the tears you’ve shed, the chances you took, and the tough decisions that gutted you. They are the hopes never realised, and the unanswered prayers you’ve whispered in the dark. They are tokens left by everything you have survived. The agony of hospital waiting rooms, the loss of a friend, the death of a beloved pet, a funeral in the rain. (Did you really think that you could ever be unmarked by it all? That it is even possible?) They are gifts granted by the foreign lands you’ve visited; by tiramisus you’ve eaten at cafés overlooking Fontana di Trevi, and pastéis de natas in Lisbon, and syrupy baklavas in Lebanon, and hot, freshly baked bread outside of a bakery in Paris at 5.00 AM. They talk about a kidnapping you’ve witnessed in Moscow, and broken showers in Eastern Europe, open air bazaars in pre-war Syria, dysenteries in shady cruise ships along the Nile, Sunsets at the foot of the Parthenon, camel rides in Giza, Moroccan mosaics whose beauty brought you to tears, beaches on Greek Islands that stole your heart, and snow falling on your hair in snow motion, as you were standing heartbroken, on a frozen lake somewhere in Siberia – or any version of that. They are there, talking about a life lived! A lover you’ve lost, a dream you had to forego, a regret that chokes you, a loss that nearly killed you, a success that was deserving, a failure that brought you to your knees, an illness you’ve survived, a love that made your heart blossom, a love that crashed your soul. They are witnesses to your joy and your pain, your struggles, your courage, your spirit.  They are your battle-scars. They are there, saying to the world that you have lived! That you were forced to adjust. That you’ ve survived shit. And then some. That you came out on the other side alive, and still raising hell.

Don’t be afraid of change. Don’ t hate your ageing self. You are still you. Everything that happens to your body is still part of you, carrying around the testimony of a heart that has been broken, and stumbled upon, (and because of that, opened!), and of a life that had been lived, instead of made smaller, safer, disciplined, controlled. Carefully preserved. Like pickles in a jar.

Whether you actually realise that Time is an unbeatable opponent and so continue to allowing your self to follow your bliss, and even enjoy food and therefore end up expanding like the Universe, or whether you are attempting to hold on with white knuckled hands onto an idea of youth, and are therefore ageing in the socially acceptable manner for this particular point in Time, (which is to say you spend an unhealthy amount of time and energy on the almost obligatory fight against fat, gravity, and that feeling of unworthiness that comes with that particular female territory) you are still ageing.  (How could you not?) From a point onwards, it ‘s just a choice between a turkey neck or a double chin, between wrinkles or fat. Between control and letting go. Unless you are working on yourself (on releasing that Patriarchal notion that you are unworthy and unlovable unless you have the body of a prubescant girl) the transition will not crash you.

Plus, you are remembering it wrong: youth was not just the time when you looked your best and had the ability to metabolise the entire contains of your fridge without that having any serious ramifications on your thighs (though granted, these are great qualities you wouldn’ t mind still having), it was also about being penniless and clueless as well as naive (a lethal combination), and it was about being uncertain about your life, and about bad decisions based on hormones, fear, insecurities, a poor judgement and a lack of self awareness. Not to mention it was about not being brave enough to say NO! when you ought to have, (especially to guys with great abs, who told you were beautiful) and then being led astray of your path for years at-a-time because of it…

But realising all that, is of course a process: ageing carries precious gifts of self awareness, yet it is still seen as a threat that looms over a woman’s life, the minute she turns twenty-nine. Which is mad! Say whatever you want about women of past generations: they may have had fewer rights, but they were at least allowed to age in a manner that none of us are anymore. And it is such a limiting way of living one’s life! Especially since what is seen as “young” – in terms of women only of course – lasts about a minute. Youth was always important and desirable, but never before was ageing seen as such a threat. Women of my mother’s generation were undoubtedly allowed to age! To move through life in a “different” (99 out of 100 cases, bigger) body in each decade. To be marked by Time, and be OK with it! Their ageing may have been unpleasant, or something they faced with a certain degree of foreboding -sure! – but it was never unexpected, it was never shocking, and it was definitely never shameful! Life took its course. Like life tends to do, since the dawn of time. It was expected. And fighting it, made you a fool.

When did ageing become such an abomination, instead of a natural part of life anyway? Ageing was supposed to be the time of becoming more aware, gaining in self-conciousness, understanding human nature, knowing yourself, passing on to the next generation knowledge and wisdom and shit. That is why older people no longer need their arsenal of shinning hair and robust limps. Because ideally, they have moved on, in terms of self conciousness and they need something more than someone to pay them compliments and fuck their brains out three times a day, (which is what young love is basically all about). Our world becomes a more complicated place, as we grow older. We carry around the heavy baggage of our past: of lost lovers or spouses, of dreams we had betrayed, and friends and places and versions of yourself we were forced to leave. And this offers an insight into what’s real. It forces us to appreciate kindness, and empathy, and compatibility in a partner, instead of firm bottoms (though granted, they are still appreciated). Sex becomes therefore also the ultimate form of intimacy and trust and communion with another soul, instead of a sport. Or it becomes unnecessary. Or at least not worth the trouble. That’s a possibility too. Because we know of the dangers it carries. Of how it can fog our judgement and blind us to the true realities of a relationship or a marriage and lead us astray for years at a time. We know of the price it demands. And frankly, the older we get , the more we realise that we don’t have that many years to spare… To waste on undeserving men… And it’s kind of a shame: for women at least, contrary to popular belief, their experience of life, or love, or sex, is intensified as they grow older, not blunted. Because they no longer need to prove things. Because they no longer need constant reassurance. Because they no longer care to pretend and lie in order to save face, to validate their partner’s fragile ego, in order to be seen as desirable and hot and cool, in order to gain a man’s approval, in order to stay safe, in order to stay married. There is no need anymore (and no time!) to silence their own needs. That is why they can get rid of all the unnecessary baggage that used to keep them grounded, and enslaved in relationships that offered nothing more than ego gratification, social approval or safety. (Seen through these lens, how is ageing a bad deal?)

Ageing was never supposed to be an extended time of rosy cheekbones, tiny waistlines and eternally smooth skin anyway. It was always about becoming more powerful, so that you no longer needed or cared about your no longer rosy cheekbones, your no longer tiny waistlines and your no longer eternally smooth skin… That was always the deal. That was always our genetic predisposition: You are born. You are a baby. Then a kid. Then a teen. Then you look good for a couple of decades and change. Then you start slowly declining. Then you become properly old. And then you die. It’s written in our code. It’ s not reversible. It’s not negotiable. Each age carrying different gifts. Each stealing something away. Wanting to look like a twenty-year old when you are over fifty (and expecting the world to see you as one, or at the very least pretend to see you as one, and being gutted when it doesn’t happen), is as stupid, futile, paradoxical, unnatural and sick, as a thirty year old, wanting to look like an infant and trying hard, spending a lot of money and energy and effort in order to achieve that! How fucked up would that be?!

So why do we think it is OK for fifty years olds to pretend they are 30 years younger? Why do we expect middle aged women to have the face and body of a pre-adolescent girl? How come we don’t see this as some form of mental problem? (I guess the answer to that it’s because so many suffer from it…) No matter what you will do, or what your plastic surgeon assures you, no matter how much time you spend doing pilates and whatnot, no matter how many years it’s been since you ‘ve eaten ice cream, if you are fifty, you still look like a fifty year old. One who has had a lot of work done, and hasn’t eaten in decades yes, but a fifty year old. So just relax already. Have a desert. Forgo the beauty salon this week. Pull up a chair and take a breath. Show a little lenience to the woman in the mirror for a change! You can still be loved, but maybe not by the guy who is unable to evolve, who will look at you and only see your age (and through that, his own mortality), never your heart, your strength, your ability to love, your sensitivity, your maturity, your struggles, your intelligence, your power, your complexity, your history. But why would you care for such a guy? What does he have to offer to you, other than his approval or disapproval for your body parts, thinking he is entitled to it? And even then, only for a limited amount of time (because no matter how old you are, there’s further ageing along the way…) Forget it. Evolve yourself, so that you will get a chance to be with an evolved sort of guy. And so that more guys will be given the push to finally evolve themselves… And if he is not around, acknowledge the sheer bliss of living a life undisturbed by the constant catering to a man’s needs… (That’s precious too. In fact it is a bloody revelation! Give it go!)

Actually, there are a LOT of heterosexual women out there, who are opting for self-imposed celibacy, just because they are not sufficiently insecure and self-loathing in order to turn their sex life into the pervy playground of porn-addicts. Porn addiction has shoved men back into their primal, dark Neanderthal caves and by that, it has also robbed women from the right to feel like they are more than props for men. Not all women are willing to be humiliated on a regular basis, so that their partner can reenact on their body (and soul) every single creepy shit he watched on his computer screen. And that is not equated with a hate for sex by the way (actually – miraculously -it is not even equated with a hate for men!) it is simply the only choice left that is available to women who want to live their life with integrity, dignity and without violence and humiliation. In this era of proud porn watchers  public masturbators, outed sadists, and closeted pedophiles, it is heterosexual women who are paying the price in relationships. After the porn industry has claimed so many men’s lives, there’s just not much place for women who still expect connection, rather than humiliation from their encounters with them. There’s just no place for women who still want something more than see their self turned into a compliant facilitators of anybody’s porn fantasies.

But if you are not there yet, in that place of self-imposed celibacy that is, (though you probably will, eventually, given how  porn culture is heading towards some even darker places), whether you are young or old, don’ t expect or wish to be loved for your looks (the one thing you have, that doesn’t last!) Expect and demand to be loved for more! For who you are! Who you’ ve become. Inside and out. Attraction is important, sure! We are all still underneath the layers of culture and education and intellectual analysis, animals after all. But there has to be something more there. The kind of something that lasts longer than an orgasm, that goes deeper than our skin. That can outlast infatuation. That can survive pass our youth. In short, dare to explore other versions of yourself, that don’ t involve your need for external validation. Free yourself from the addiction to compliments! Stop graving random men’ s attention. Stop being in constant need for men for whom you have no interest or desire, to see you as desirable, and for women to see you as more beautiful than them! Step out of the beauty pageant that is your life. End this humiliation! This desperation. This fear. Stop parading in front of sleazy judges of your worth, (on social media or real life) hoping they will choose you over the other desperate, parading women. Stop being a slave to the idea of becoming prettier / slimmer / younger. At all costs (physical, emotional, financial) Because it eats up your feelings of self worth, and it therefore keeps you from being free to explore the endless possibilities that make up who you are, or can be as an individual. It also keeps you from making thoughtful, realistic, decisions about your life: when your self esteem is defined wholly by the way you look, each time another woman tells you you look “great”, you assume she is a friend for no other reason than that, and each time an asshole pays you a compliment about your looks, you again lose your discernment, your ability to cut through the bullshit and see his real intentions – or your own feelings about him for that matter! It won’ t be long before you have talked yourself into believe he is in love with you, and even worse, that you are in love with him. Just because you love the feeling (in fact are addicted to it) he gives you when he says “Hey, you are pretty!” (which is man-talk for “Hey, I’m horny and must have a woman – any woman – now!”) That’s how most loveless marriages came to be, by the way: by a horny guy paying a passing compliment to a desperate woman, and by her buying it. Making it her life-line.

Time is a great equalizer: we are all on the same boat together – even the ones who haven’ t realized it yet. Sooner or later, we all reach a point when even if we no longer look our best, we still look better than how we will look in say three years… (Three years! Damn!) In fact, we will all eventually reach a point when every year we’ ll look a little worse, until we’ ll go from turning heads, to turning stomachs…  It’s just life. You know how you look at old photos in which you look younger and wish you still look that good? Well, chances are, you will be looking at photos of your current self, in say, five years time and wish you still looked THAT good… So why not start appreciating how you look NOW, instead of waiting five years, before you do?! Think about it!

Face the realities of ageing is what I’m saying. (Even though admittedly, it’s often easier said than done) Ageing will not spare you, but it won’t make you smaller, if you have found something in this life – other than your looks – that defines you as a worthy human being. In short, even when you are young, don’t feel flattered when a guy validates you for looking young, and when you get older for looking “younger than your age”. Be insulted! Be mad! It’s NOT a compliment! He is telling you that age (yours, not his, NEVER his, of course!) matters to him. And that your age defines you. And that what he feels now, has an expiration date. As have you. How is that flattering?! How is it not an insult? How is that not a deal breaker?

Enjoy all your ages. Each steals something away; each gives you something in return. It’s just the way things are. Be proud of how you are ageing and the battle scars age has gifted you. And look for a guy who can see the truth behind this, and love you for it. But be prepared; be fucking OK if he is not out there. Because you have finally reached the point when such costs are damn worth it!

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“The Woman in the Mirror – Ageing is Not For Sissies” – Part II” – 16th of September, 2018. Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications.

Read also: “Beauty Works: Ageing is not for Sissies, Part I”

If you appreciate the work I do, please consider making a donation (by clicking on this link – that leads to PayPal) so that I will be allowed to continue this effort. Thank you in advance.

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ART by Fanitsa Petrou: http://www.fanitsa-petrou.com


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The Fetishisation of Motherhood – Motherhood Within Patriarchy, Part II

Art & Words by Fanitsa Petrou

 By regressing into earlier expressions of womanhood that denounce feminism as aggressive and “unfeminine” and a form of misandry, and above all, by fetishising marriage and pregnancy, women are kept locked inside that cruel world.

In a society that is in fact becoming more patriarchal, marriage and motherhood are still glorified by pop culture and fashion as a woman’s ultimate goal. Getting married is the thing a woman does as a way of becoming an adult. And sadly, the thing that often steers her away from her studies (or renders them unnecessary) and her professional or political goals. It is the thing that still justifies (in fact glorifies) the giving up of her dreams. The narrative is still the same as it ever was. TV shows – even the so called “gritty” ones, tend to end up in extravagant wedding ceremonies and pregnancies for example. A big wedding ceremony (or at the very least a proposal) is still seen as the best way to close “triumphantly” a movie, or a TV season, and it always guarantees increased popularity, while single women are still portrayed as sad, lonely, desperate, sex-crazed, angry outsiders, who are consumed by their obsessive search for husbands (not necessarily love) or else as cruel bosses who turn bitchy, bitter and cold. Likewise, a real-life pregnancy when it comes to female TV journalists and morning show hosts, can instantly boost their ratings. 

This was not always the case. Or at least it briefly stopped being the case a few decades ago. Specifically in the late 80s, early 90s when, when for the briefest of moments, we were allowed to see the occasional positive portrayal of “alternative” lifestyles available to heterosexual women (and NOT as a way of proving a “woke” agenda which is the case with such stories today). When the “Baby Boom” movie was released back in 1987 for example, with Diane Keeton playing the role of a 40 something business executive who is forced to become the reluctant adopting mother of a baby girl, it was pretty spot on in its portrayal of the social trend of the second wave feminists of the 80s, who were in fact more allowed than modern-day women, to have choices. The female lead (who was both unmarried and in a relationship) was seen as having never contemplated motherhood for example, and then when faced with the possibility, she was “allowed” to have apprehension and conflicting feelings about it all. It was not automatically assumed that being a mum would magically become her main – in fact only – point of focus, providing complete fulfillment on the spot. It was a difficult process and an adjustment (as it is in fact for most women). In the end, it was her love for the child, which became overwhelming (as it does admittedly tend to become for most women), that led her to embrace the role of a mother, not her “gender duty” as a female, and even then, she was not portrayed as happy to give up on her dreams in order to do that. And in the end, she didn’t have to choose. This in itself was quite refreshing! The same narrative was visited in the TV show Murphy Brown as well, when (in 1992) we saw the middle-aged news anchor being positively portrayed as a single mum, causing Dan Quayle’s outrage who considered a fictional character to be a real thread to “family values.” 

A recent movie that takes an honest and brave look at the ambivalent feelings a woman may have about motherhood is The Lost Daughter, Maggie Gyllenhaal’s first film as a writer-director (based on the brilliant book by Elena Ferrante). The film attempts to portray the overwhelming nature of motherhood, by avoiding the binary Hollywood stereotype of the “perfect” mother who wants nothing from life other than cook and clean after her kids or the cruel monster who hates and ultimately destroys them. It is not often that we come across such portrayals of motherhood: the emotional depth, the overwhelming need to love as well as the resentment for being swallowed whole into a world that negates every other aspect of you. It is admittedly a difficult watch, but one that offers a rarely visited by pop culture, perspective.

Yet, in the last 15 years or so, we seem to have retrograded: pregnancy has again been practically fetished, and turned into “public property”, not a woman’ s private affair. Because it gives “purpose” to a woman, when all others are purposely taken away: it keeps her homebound and busy and conveniently away from where the decisions are being made for her life and her body. It is no longer the – admittedly – very important event in a woman’ s life, it has again become the ONLY truly important one. It is her reason for existing. What more, pregnancy is no longer seen as a pretty shitty time too (and let us be honest, it mostly is!) It is on the contrary cutesied, and presented as a great opportunity for great fashion moments and publicity photos and increased popularity if you are a celebrity, and endless posing on Instagram stories holding your “bump” if you are an everyday woman. 

Celebrities who don’t follow the new rules of either keeping their figure while pregnant (in manner of Victoria Beckham – the original yummy mummy) or playing the fertility “goddess” card (in manner of Beyoncé) are severely shamed by the media. It took one single “bad” photo for the reality star Kim Kardashian for her to be temporarily ostracized from the land of the fabulous, back in 2013 for example, when she was five-months pregnant and caught wearing a black and white dress that showed that she had (The horror! The horror!) the body of a pregnant woman (instead of that of a stick figure who has swallowed a soccer ball). Her photo was actually shown in many publications and websites next to the photo of a killer whale with the caption “Who wore it best?” Gossip magazines and websites were posting the photo for weeks with headlines like: “Kim’s Pregnant Nightmare! “65‑lb Weight Gain!” “Binges on Pasta, Cake and Ice Cream!” (Instead of, you know: “Properly and dutifully starves herself while pregnant”…) These are the same people who did not mind of course the photos of her turning her ass into a side table… 

The cult of the “celebrity pregnancies” and the trend of the “yummy mummies”, happened simultaneously with (and because of) the return of Patriarchy and pornography’ s  profound takeover of men’s life. As women are being daily degraded by their porn-addict husbands (despite of the fact that very few of them would be open about it, or even willing to face the fact) they are again holding on tightly to the stereotypical gender identity they briefly left behind because of feminism. As men started entering one-by one, the dark, nasty, violent, misogynistic Neanderthal caves of their porn obsessions, women revisited their old “biological destines” and began their own regressing route into the fifties. They were being for once more, defined not by their humanity, their personality, intelligence, heart, empathy, abilities, ambitions, loses, intelligence, suffering, potential, triumphs, talents, individuality, or the freedom to explore any of the above, but by their looks and their biology: their weight, their age, their wedding gowns, their rings, their pregnancies, and their ominous ticking clocks. Fashion stepped in (as it always does, being such a cunning and ingenious interpreter of the Times) to finish the job: Women were brainwashed to wear high heels ALL the time, (including while doing the housework) by ads and TV shows and movies. Clothes started to become close fitting again and midriffs started making their appearance in the mid 90s. Gone were the long wide skirts of the ‘80s and early ‘90s, and the loose fitting, cozy oversized sweaters, the long wide romantic dresses that left things to the imagination, the sober jackets and pants that were tailored like men’s, and were favoured by the women who believed that they should be judged as individuals and professionals in their work place, not as body parts. Gone were the muted earthy tones and the naturally curly hair, the flat shoes, the natural make up (or indeed the natural breasts, the vaginas which were not surgically altered, the asses which were not surgically “cushioned” (or in constant displayed) etc. And gone was also the time when women were thought – for the briefest of moments – to have the right to be seen as human beings! Who among other things are allowed to age! To go out there and claim their place in the world, attempt at least to break that fucking glass ceiling, have a choice between being single or married (and be respected either way), not to mention have an equal right to orgasm as a man (instead of being slaves to a man’s own) while at it. 

The new Patriarchy smelled the goods and needed a new look that was in many terms – quite predicably – a revival of the fifties (the golden era of sexism, the wet dream of all misogynists) that keeps women in a state of constant sexual availability and perpetual discomfort. That keeps them on their toes (literally!): so high (the highest in human history actually!) heels and tiny waists and oversized boobs, gigantic behinds and bee-stung lips became the thing. The comic-book woman of the 50s has made a come back. When Nature didn’t help, plastic surgery, dieting and corsets (actual fucking corsets!) came to women’s rescue. (Whenever corsets return in fashion be on your guard ladies… It means the times are changing again. It means some serious sexist shit is coming your way)

Social platforms played a vital part of course. An exhibitionist new sort of public woman was now the norm. A strange hybrid of a woman who is obviously spending half her day in beauty regimes and when she opens her mouth speaks like a man: defending men’s rights, chastising feminists, seeing prostitution as a valid “career choice”, visiting strip joints and taking pole dance lessons that show that she is “cool”, and defending violent pornography as “freedom of speech” and “sex positive”. Not to mention ”, gladly being cuffed to her bedpost like a dog by her hubby so that she will fell “empowered”. As for public life, who among us isn’t simply bewildered but also downright scared when watching those well-groomed Right Winged ladies, with their emaciated, strip-treaser’s bodies, their blond hair, their dead eyes, their immaculate nails and their preference for a wardrobe of basic colours (bold reds and blues and yellows – the colours of childhood, let us not forget!) preaching about ‘family values”, standing by their cheating husband and warning us about the end of days? Those modern-day Phyllis Schafly clones who see feminism as a threat. 

Much like the election of a black president has obviously woken up the nasty beast of racism in modern-day America, so did the progress made in the eighties result in a nasty backlash: women became nothing but bodies again. Caricatures of femininity. Barbie-sied women. Comic-book women, conjured up in an adolescent boy’s sexual fantasy world. Because the porn-addicted male is very much like an adolescent boy who is hiding in his parent’ s basement, lost in the fog of his masturbatory monomania, too damaged, too scared to climb the steps and face the real world were real, human women reside.

So women became bodies again, which exist in order to service their husbands whose eyes were now turned elsewhere. They became bodies in order to shift their man’ s gaze away from his monitor screen. To compete with the porn stars who took a permanent residence inside his head, by becoming homogenized, identical to all others, equally submissive and eager to please as them. By altering their body by relentless exercising and beauty regimes and exhausting diets and plastic surgery. By replicating the “porn-chic” look he spends his days jerking off to: gigantic boobs and asses on otherwise emaciating bodies (the shape / brand of the self-hating female). And by aspiring to learn the kind of skills “sex workers” have mastered: lap and pole dancing and all kinds of S/M degrading crap. By becoming the new “perfect”, “cool” woman who is willing to obey her man in bed, as well as have his kids, cook his meals and clean his house. Not to mention take gladly a beating in bed. Besides, porn stars seem not to mind it… In fact they seem love it! 

The paralysing fear of ageing, is also rooted in this: a woman’ s place in the world is defined by being the good-wife model: young and fertile and in a state of perpetual sexual availability to her husband / provider. Earning her keep. Always doing her bit in keeping the marriage “alive”! Her worth therefore diminishes, as her beauty and fertility diminish. It’s a nightmarish, cruel Handmaid’s Tale-like world (see*3). And it is the world in which most women reside. By regressing into earlier expressions of womanhood that denounce feminism as aggressive and “unfeminine” and a form of misandry, and above all, by fetishizing marriage and pregnancy, women are kept locked inside that cruel world.Too afraid to escape it, because they were told by a multitude of voices that not much else exist in the alternative. Ιn the despised, empty plains of “spinsterhood”. Out there where women brazenly attempt to live the lives they have chosen, instead of being told what they prefer by husbands, priests, law makers, pop culture creators and pornographers and are being punished for it, in ways that are far worse than how married women are being punished. 

But the thing is, the voices lied! 


Posted on the 17th of July, 2023. Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorised use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications. Feel free to share on social media, by using the link.

Read also: “The “Right” kind of Mother – Motherhood Within Patriarchy, Part I” –https://www.fanitsa-petrou-blog.com/archives/5887

ART by Fanitsa Petrou:  http://www.fanitsa-petrou.com


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Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | Comments Off on The Fetishisation of Motherhood – Motherhood Within Patriarchy, Part II

The “Right” kind of Mother – Motherhood Within Patriarchy, Part I

Art & Words by Fanitsa Petrou

Patriarchy glorifies marriage and parenthood only in reference to women, in order to JUSTIFY the sacrifice that is required of them in both.

Men’ s worth as human beings is never seen as being attached to their marital status, because their worth is unquestionable. It is not doubted or disputed when they are single (in fact quite the contrary) and it is therefore not increased when they are married. For as long as women are seen as inferior to men, their worth will be associated to their relationship (and usefulness) to them. And that’ s the gist of it. That’ s the reason why we still cling onto the age-old stereotype of the “happily married woman” and the “miserable spinster”. Despite the fact that women admit that their husbands stress them more than their kids, and despite the fact that divorced women feel like a giant weight has been lifted off their life once they get divorced … women still dream of marriage and still continue to get married. (see: #1 #6)

Marriage is seen – with a hammering insistence – as a morally acceptable, as a “normal” path for women, because they are required by patriarchal conditioning to always be ready (and happy) to sacrifice their own self to others. Any woman who deviates from the path of self-sacrifice and is not OK with disappearing into marriage, is still seen on some level as perverse and blasphemous. The impact marriage has on a woman’s dreams, is of course never examined (see: #6). It often takes a divorce (and if not that, then a health scare) for a woman to reconnect with her true Self and her long lost dreams and to find the courage to live wholly as an individual. The mere fact that she becomes, due to the break up of her marriage, able to actually control her time, to have a say in the way her days are being spent, are enough to replenish her heart and reconnect her with old dreams she was forced to burry underneath the endless chores, the pretences, the fight against ageing and fat, the muted existence of the married woman. (Being set free from the need to please a husband, frees up quite a lot of time and a lot of heart!)

Patriarchy glorifies marriage and parenthood only in reference to women, in order to JUSTIFY the sacrifice that is required of them in both. So that women’s giving up of their personal identities will be admired, and therefore be more desirable. Patriarchal religions came up with these notions much like I imagine some clever publicist working for the American government came up with the notion of verbally glorifying troops after 9/11. By encouraging the public to be publicly “thanking them for their service” every five minutes, they were encouraging more and more young men to be sent to bomb countries that have nothing but sand, so that the public’s attention would be kept focused away from sex scandals, the fact that seedy politicians are profiting from the rebuilding of the cities they themselves have obliterated, shady efforts to re-elect presidents, keeping the guns industry in business and the oil running towards the West, or the corrosion of civil liberties back home) On a similar manner women’s disempowerment in marriage is celebrated and glorified, so that more women will be “recruited”: much like the “call to arms” when it comes to young men, it is cleverly dressed up as the supreme female quality and seen as selflessness. 

An unmarried woman used to be seen as someone who has been rejected by men: a desperate, pathetic, lonely, envious-of-married-women, worthy of pity creature. Nowadays a single woman is additionally seen as someone who rejects men: a man-hating, frigid, bossy, mouthy feminist who is too demanding for her own good and who therefore deserves loneliness, though certainly not pity. In both cases, a woman’s husbandless state defines her as an individual more than anything else.  Even if the stigma of the “old maid” is somewhat diminished (though by no means eradicated), being single AND childless, is additionally being seen as an act of supreme selfishness for a woman. Because she seems to be prioritizing her own individual needs over her “gender destiny”. Such a notion is seen as dangerous, as it can imply that women are individuals themselves, having the same right to self-realisation as men! And we can’t have that! A man who chooses to live alone and have no kids, faces none of that of course.  Even if he is a middle aged man still living at home, having his underwear being washed by his ageing mother, he is still not seen as selfish as an independent, wholly self-sufficient, childless single woman. (It takes a LOT for a guy to be seen as selfish after all!) 

On the other hand, the women who know all that and do not need the wake up call of either a divorce or an illness in order to stand by their dreams, are not exactly being congratulated for the fact: single women who yarn for autonomy and dare to fight the odds on their own, and build a life of meaning and self-realisation, are never celebrated for their courage and self sufficiency. Their independent spirits, their integrity that forced them to separate relationships and money, their refusal to see men as providers instead of partners, their healthy self esteem that was not in need of validation by rings and wedding gowns and a borrowed name (and identity) are not admired – or often replicated. Not only do other women not see them as harbingers of a new age of equality, but they see them as bitter creatures who deserve pity, or as traitors and troublemakers who need to be put in their place. And that says quite a lot!

Despite all warnings made by conservatives and religious leaders that feminism has a negative impact on “traditional values”, the institution of marriage and the nuclear family, people still of course get married and weddings have actually become even bigger, even more extravagant affairs. We still glorify marriage as the ideal life choice for women, and view it as the supreme female accomplishment, as the ‘happy ending” to their life story. (Ironically, implying that their story DOES pretty much end by it)  This is because we still value women as being less worthy than men, seeing them as incapable of living independent lives, driven by their own individual needs and dreams and sense of self, instead of pandering to someone else’s. 

Female independence challenges Patriarchy and puts it in grave danger – one single woman at a time apparently… That is why single women are still ridiculed, shamed, put in their place, guided back on track – as we have seen for example in the many ways with which the American Republican party (and its countless replicants all over the world) is attempting to change legislation in order to control the reproductive Rights of women and by that, punish female independence and sexual liberation and force women to return back to their traditional destinies as breeding stock / wives. (If in doubt, see:*5That is why all choices that are not related to marriage or motherhood, are for women still seen as not quite “right”: 

SINGLE MOTHERS for example, are globally marginalized in a number of ways: they are often seen as sluts who were reckless in their selfish and shameless pursuit of sex. Not a second thought is wasted on their partners’ s morals of course. Not even if a woman or underage girl got pregnant after she was raped! It is also automatically assumed that they are not contributing anything to society, that they are draining the State’s welfare resources – even when they are not on wellfare. They are on top of that, automatically seen as bad mothers (because a married woman’s good mothering skills are directly related to her having a husband – ANY husband –  obviously!) and are censured for not offering a “proper” family to their kids and a “father figure”. Even when the father is her rapist, or when he is an abusive one, or even if he does not wish to know his own kids (let alone help raise them), a single mum is still being seen as irresponsible for not “doing the right” thing and marrying him, (and offering to her children the option of having an abusive, unsuitable man for a father…) Because any man is seen as preferable to no man. And a horrible father preferable to any mother.

On the other hand, UNMARRIED CHILDLESS WOMEN are daily being humiliated by friends, family, and random strangers and are being told they are “wasting their life”, they are “missing out”, they are not fulfilling their roles as women”, they will one day “regret it” and it will of course be “too late”, because they have a time bomb in the center of their ovaries which is ready to explode at all times and by that destroy the entire world, not just their own lives… The idea that a woman is allowed a choice resides obviously outside the realm of their understanding.

Even MARRIED WOMEN WHO CHOOSE NOT TO HAVE KIDS are being told they are being “selfish” (because apparently you’ve misheard: there is no overpopulation problem in the world, and them giving birth to one more child would save humanity. In fact according to statistcics, people are “morally outraged” with both men and women who are voluntarily childless (see: #2) When asked what they thought of childless people, the participants in the study (all  undergraduate psychology students by the way!) described them as being “psychologically unfulfilled” and admitting that they felt “disapproval, anger, outrage, annoyance”, and even “disgust” towards them! (Similar studies conducted in the 70s, 80s and 90s have had similar findings. In short, that being childless is not just uncommon but also “morally wrong” and a sign of a mental disorder!) In a world full of unsuited, clueless or cruel parents, it is the childless people who are seen as a plague.

But of course the stigmatization of childless women is particularly strong. They are of course seen as “selfish” because they are wasting their only TRULY permissable quality as females: that of motherhood. Without it, they are as in The Handmaid’ s Tale world, “unwomen” (see: *3  ) That’ s because all women are still being seen as bodies above all: their biology, their ovaries, their fertility status, their pregnancies, and of course their looks and age (their fuckability, which leads to pregnancies that is…) are always considered to be the most important things about them. That is why their choices to marry or not, have kids or not, are all-important and seen as public property.

This rage (and it IS that) that is being directed towards CHILDLESS WOMEN, stems from the common belief that motherhood is every woman’s “higher” and ONLY purpose. It is her “gender destiny”. (Women are still being seen as nothing more than “hosts” of men’s sperm by Christian, Jewish or Muslim religious leaders – and American Republican politicians – after all – see:*5) Having a child is also seen as a selfless act, and the supreme form of altruism, and yes, it can be that. Yet we fail to admit that it can also be the very opposite of that: a very selfish act that is motivated by one’ s own personal desire το feed one’ s own need to be loved, to perpetuate the “bloodline” of a family, and let us not forget, to satisfy that gigantic maternal biological yeaning that most women have (though not all) that urges them to nurture others – preferably tiny, adorable little others – and of course on a more primal level, to have one’ s genes be replicated and survive in new versions into the next generation, and most commonly, to be compatible with what is seen as the”norm”, to be valued as a ‘worthy woman” by the husband and society at large, etc, etc. None of these reasons are 100% selfless. And it is OK. It is human. But saying that procreation is a wholly unselfish act all on its own, is not OK. Taking care of a child may be an act of supreme selflessness, sure, but wanting a child in your life, not necessarily.

By becoming a mother, a woman is entering a phase when she will have to put her own needs second, so that the needs of her child are met, which is of course not often expected of the father. Even though motherhood can offer fulfilment, it is next to blasphemy to say that it also has aspects which are more of a tedious, tiresome, thankless journey, full of pain, loneliness, disappointment, sleeplessness and exhaustion. Even though the moments of joy tend to make up for it, mothers (much like married women in general) are not supposed to need anything other than that. Women’ s individual needs, their sense of Self, their dreams, are not supposed to matter when they get married or have a baby. Their family needs “to come first” we say, while we don’ t expect the same of husbands and fathers who are of course allowed to keep their sense of Self, their professional identities, their ambitions, their dreams, their habits, their hobbies even, and idiosyncrasies intact, regardless of whether they get married or have kids. It is only women who are expected to be lost in marriage and what more, to be glad of it.

That is why HOUSEWIVES /STAY-HOME MUMS are still to this day, seen as exercising a“higher”, “nobler” form of womanhood and a more altruistic form of motherhood, and are considered to be the ones who get to have the “right” to feel superior to all other women. Even if they are trophy wives whose children are being raised by an army of nannies and maids, they are seen as better at this mothering business than working mothers (and most definitely better than all the working SINGLE mothers put together!) The unspoken bias runs deep: the stay-home mums are just doing things “right” even when they don’t. Not depending on a man’s money and submitting to his power, working for your living and raising a kid at the same time, is still not being seen exactly as worthy of respect, as staying home and baking pies (or at the very least supervising those who do).

Even married WOMEN WHO ARE OPTING FOR ADOPTION are still being seen as “selfish” if they haven’t first tried and failed to have kids. And if they express a wish to be informed of the health status of the child that will be chosen by others (adoption agencies, government officials of foreign countries, etc) they are being reminded that such thoughts are “selfish”. Yet, isn’t every woman who is pregnant making the EXACT same wish? A pregnant woman is of course not at all seen as selfish if she expresses the same wish (namely to have a healthy child), and goes on to have examination after examination to make sure of this! Not even if she goes through amniocentesis which can literally pierce the fetus with a giant needle that can cause a miscarriage (in 1 in 200 cases!), or injury, infection, preterm labor and other serious complications, all so that she can be sure she is not carrying a Down Syndrome baby. This is seen as her right, not an act of cruelty or selfishness, but a woman who wants to make an informed decision and so prepare herself about the realities she will be facing, or has mixed feelings about adopting a child with say, serious mental issues, or who at the very least, wants to know if she will be changing her adult child’s diaper when they will be well into middle age, (when she will be an old woman and possibly in need of some diaper changing herself) is seen as utterly heartless. And this is a very likely possibility actually, especially in the case of single women: a single woman who is trying to adopt from an orphanage, is more likely to be offered a child with serious mental / physical health issues, since healthy babies are usually “saved” for couples, who “deserve” them.

Interestingly enough, a MARRIED WOMAN TRYING TO ADOPT from certain places around the world (which are again NOT her choice – another misconception – but are decided by government officials of her own country because of treaties being signed between countries and so on) also needs to provide medical documents that proof that she is not fertile! (A document that is NOT required of her husband of course! The stigma of infertility must be wholly hers…) Wanting to adopt because you feel the need to help a hopeless child and bring positive change into their life, is not a sufficiently good reason. You have to be doing it because you have run out of options obviously… (Otherwise it might mean that you are wasting perfectly good eggs and that might mean that you are betraying your purpose as a female! Because what are you if not a set or ovaries?

On the other hand, A SINGLE WOMAN WHO IS TRYING TO ADOPT from certain Eastern European countries, can also on top of all that, be asked to provide proof that she is not a prostitute! (Because apparently being single is a morally suspect thing, and being a prostitute is the only alternative to being married) Now take a minute to think about this. To picture the conversation, she will need to have with police officers, lawyers, government officials, priests and psychologists of her own country, who will need to sign such papers! Try to picture the kind of questions she will be forced to answer, the kind of innuendo she will be forced to face… (Men who are trying to adopt are of course not asked to provide documents declaring they are not gigolos, or the buyers of women, or even pedophiles, but women need to perpetually prove their moral standing…)

Whether married or single, a woman who manages to jump all those hoops and actually (eventually) adopt, is of course still not seen as quite as worthy as A WOMAN WHO GAVE BIRTH. Even after she has spent her life being a mother to her kid, she will not be seen as quite the same as other mothers. Yes, she may have raised her child, made the sacrifices, spend the sleepless nights, and all that, but since she has not given birth to it, she is just not seen as belonging in the same category as “proper”, “legit” mothers. In fact an ADOPTIVE MOTHER, is often seen as less of a mother than the one who gave birth to the very child she is raising. Even when the woman who gave birth to it, has tossed it in a trash bin. Literally. 

Even biological MOTHERS WHO GO FOR A CESARIAN either by choice, or for medical reasons, are shamed and seen as just not exactly “up there” with the “real” mums who gave birth “naturally”. 

On the other hand MOTHERS WHO HAVE USED EPIDURALS are also not seen as up to par as women who have not… 

Similarly, MOTHER WHO ARE BREASTFEEDING are seen as superior to MOTHERS WHO ARE USING FORMULA (even if it is for purely medical reasons)

In short, every choice a woman makes that deviates from the path shared by our great grandmothers is seen as suspect. If single women are chastised when they have ambitions that are not centered around men and matrimonial ceremonies, you can imagine how MARRIED WOMEN WHO HAVE OTHER DREAMS OR PURSUITS THAT ARE NOT FAMILY RELATED, are seen. Who remembers that legendary statement made by Hillary Clinton for example, (back in the early nineties when she was not so constricted by political correctness)? I refer to that time when she was reprimanded severely for working as a lawyer, while her husband was running for president, instead of giving up on the career she has spent her entire adult life building, to which she replied“what do you want me to do? I suppose I could have stayed home and baked cookies and had teas”

Can you imagine the husband of a female politician being asked to give up on his career for the sake of his wife’s own?! Needless to say, her statement (which just for that, turned her into a real life heroine to my – then – young eyes) was seen in America, as a declaration of war on “traditional values” and as an insult to housewives everywhere. Working women who want something more than a life of baking cookies and having teas and living in their husband’ s shadow as his personal cheerleader, are not of course allowed to take offense in the choices made by housewives, but housewives have a “legitimate” excuse for judging working women, and branding them (as they have branded Hillary Clinton at the time) as “overly ambitious” – ambition being of course an “inappropriate” quality, not at all compatible with femaleness. Housewives can (and do! Daily!) judge working women, (like married women can and do judge singe ones) but not the other way round! That’s just a fact of life…  Not to mention that when twenty-three whole years later Hillary was running for president, it was not her academic accomplishments, her career as a lawyer or the fact that she was Secretary of State that endeared her to people, it was the fact that she was a grandmother! For a female politician (or a female anything!) being competent, well educated, articulate, intelligent and accomplished, just doesn’t cut it as much as being a mum or a grandma… Not to mention she is to this day (despite her many accomplishments) seen as Clinton’s wife, above all else. The American public (well, let’s face it, un unexpectably big part of it) fell in love with the despicable Sara Palin a few years back, for no other reason that she was a good looking mum. That’s all it takes obviously. Every vile, ridiculous, ill-informed thing that came out of her mouth, was somehow ignored, because she looked good and talked about her kids…

The bottom line is: anything that does not fall into the tiny box of the atavistic, traditional feminine role that belongs more in the biblical scriptures of the Iron Age, than in modern times, is still largely seen as a deviation from the “path” women were supposed to take: women who refuse to marry, women who get divorce, women who marry but don’ t want kids, women who don’t want to marry but still want kids, women who have cesarians, women who have epidurals, women who use artificial insemination to have their kids, women who are trying to balance family and work instead of being satisfied with being homemakers, women who adopt instead of giving birth, women who use birth control, women who are gay, women who have abortions, women who pursue knowledge and want a multitude of things out of life that are not limited to marriage and motherhood, women who have dreams ambitions of their own, they are all still being seen as not exactly the “right” sort of women, the “right” sort of mothers. Still not as worthy as the stay-home mums. Still not as good as the “married-with-kids-housewives” of the world. Who “stay home and bake cookies”. They still (on the 21st century!) face prejudice on some level or other, and are still being treated as second class citizens by governments as well. Not to mention in most countries they are not offered sufficient childcare services or support of any kind or the same sort of tax benefits as married women. 

Not only things have not evolved for women, ever since that time of the Hillary remark, but they seem to have devolved: according to a new research, millennials, despite their seemingly “progressive” views on sex, and sexual “fluidity” and gender politics, are in fact embracing more traditional gender roles, and are again considering the man to be the rightful “head of the household”. According to a new report from sociologists Joanna Pepin and David Cotter, young people – who by the way are tutored very early on in the “traditional” roles of the male “punisher” and woman who takes a beating-and-“likes”-it-stereotype in porn and pop culture – are in fact “more likely to embrace traditional attitudes about male breadwinning, female homemaking and male authority in the home”!

And it doesn’t surprise us one bit!


Posted on the 17th of July, 2023. Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorised use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications. Feel free to share on social media, by using the link.

Read Also: “The Fetishisation of Motherhood – Motherhood Within Patriarchy, Part II”: https://www.fanitsa-petrou-blog.com/archives/5892

ART by Fanitsa Petrou:  http://www.fanitsa-petrou.com


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What Does it Really Mean?

  • Art & Words by Fanitsa Petrou –

Marriage, is for men – despite popular believe of the opposite –  a pretty cushioned deal. Regardless of their age, most men expect to be “taken care of” by females (mothers, wives, daughters) for the entirety of their lives. And this has a serious impact on women, especially married-with-kids ones: it is not the having kids that keeps them from going after their professional dreams, it is the fact that husbands refuse to do their share!  (To quote Ruth Bader Ginsburg: “Women will have achieved true equality when men share with them the responsibility of bringing up the next generation.”) Even though men seem to contribute to house chores and child care more these days, the truth of the matter is that they still contribute considerably less than their wives, even if their wives work full time jobs. According to a research made by Beatrix Campbell (see: “End of Equality” -see*17“over the past three decades, the time that men dedicated to child-care rose at a rate of about 30 seconds per day, per year. Their contribution to housework rose at a rate of one minute per day, per year” Any way you look at this, it is frankly quite ridiculous! And even then, the “chores” they choose to do are usually the pleasant ones: taking the kids to the park or the cinema (which is to say, keeping an eye on them while they scroll on their phone), not the kind that involves scrapping vomit from the carpet…

Yet, marriage is still often prescribed in terms of women, as a universal remedy that cures all social evils and safeguards “traditional values”, but it is still an unfair deal for them. Not to mention a proof that patriarchy still has a hold on them: we might as well realise that society’ s inability to acknowledge a heterosexual woman’ s right to live her life without a husband, is rooted in the common and age-old belief that women are not whole human beings unless their existence is validated by the fact that they were chosen by one of them. Which is to say, unless they are sexually useful to a man – and economically dependent on him.

Men have been for centuries smugly suggesting that they are doing a woman a favour by making a “decent woman out of her”, offering her a way out of the apparently utter misfortune of living a husbandless life. This notion implies not only that a man (any man!) is the panacea in a woman’s life, but also that he is the one who is loosing more in the bargain, and she is the one who is gaining, which is ironic for a number of well-documented reasons (see below). Marriage for one, contributes to women’ s lesser financial, professional and political power. A woman is still today, likely to give up on the majority of her dreams as soon as she gets married, as she will be expected to perform the majority of child care and (life-long) unpaid domestic labour that will ultimately cause a blow to her professional goals, as well as her ambition and health – not to mention self worth. (See below actual statistics, before jumping onto that #notmyhusband, #notallmen #notmymarriage train. Which is to say: if your husband is indeed the kind that is doing his part in childcare and domestic work, he is definitely the rare exception and NOT the rule )

She will of course attempt to balance work and family, but it won’ t be long before this business of having two full-time jobs (actually two and half jobs according to statistics – see below) will leave her exhausted and spent, all ambition knocked out of her (one tedious domestic chore at a time). Each minute of her time spent at home being accounted for, each hour she spends at work, becoming a source of guilt and turmoil, and each accomplishment turning into a bitter win. And if she is passed for a promotion (and she will be) she will feel both cheated AND relieved. By the time the kids are out of the house and not in constant need of her, she will be considered too “old” to be out there (men not only marry younger women, but tend to hire younger women as well, for many of the same reasons: because they love having a young body around – that they will spend their days contemplating how to fuck – plus younger women are less self-aware, less brave and more insecure and naive, and because of that, less demanding, on top of being easier to control, considerably more grateful and easier to impress! Not to mention they are paid less!)  Which is to say: by 45, regardless of education, ability or talents – she will be “unhirable” or loose her momentum and so no longer be seen as an asset in a company. She will also be too spent, too exhausted, too fed up to go after the same promotion (if by a miracle some lesser version of it is still available and not offered to the well-rested married guys who have the luxury of having normal working hours and then going home and chilling). She will carry on her shoulders the thankless duty of a wife as well as that of a mother (and possibly that of the caring daughter too, who is also looking after her parents, or even her husband’ s parents as well). The brunt of invisible / unpaid domestic work, on top of keeping a job, (and keeping her looks too, while she is at it, let us not forget), will just leave her spent. On the other hand, her husband will be congratulated, praised, and practically hero-worshiped each time he boils an egg, or (The Horror! The Horror!) changes a nappy, or “baby-sits” his own children, even if it is for an hour every eight months…

Before she reaches that crucial 45+ stage, she is very likely to eventually give up on work altogether, and become a housewife (or according to the popular, modern-day term: “stay-home mum”), who will of course get neither payment nor appreciation for her work, and will daily be reduced into a child who is asking for an allowance each time she needs to buy something, delivering in this manner all her power nicely into her husband’s hands. Because of that, she will of course start feeling obligated to satisfy her provider’ s every need… (Especially in terms of sex. Which is to say, she will finally become the “perfect” little wife! The kind that also feels obligated to defend men from those vicious feminists…) Or else she will gravitate towards less demanding positions, or part-time jobs with lower pay and no prospects, so that she can spend more time with her family. Unless she goes for the third option: keep her long hours, and her dreams somewhat intact, and so be faced with non stop guilt and with being judged by everyone as a heartless bitch, a bad wife and a cold mother who doesn’ t put her family first… 

Many studies have shown that stay-home mums who have kids aged between 5-12, have a punishing daily 14-hour / 98 hours a week / seven day schedule, with no weekends, personal or sick days. That is the equivalent of holding two and half full time jobs! (see:1 * ) Two and half full time jobs that consist of soul-crashing, thankless, mind-numbingly boring chores that pay nothing of course! And they are required to do all that, while looking great and having the sexual drive of a teenager, let us not forget. If they want that husband to stay… Which prompts the question: WHY the hell do they so desperately want him to stay? And would any of them want him to “stay” if we lived in societies that cultivated women’s independence and celebrated it instead of their marital status and looks? If we lived in societies that encouraged women to go after their dreams instead of husbands? If we lived in societies in which women were paid an equal to men pay? If we lived in societies that supported single mothers? If we lived in societies that did NOT force women to believe that they are nothing but body parts with an expiration date, who ought to offer their entire life as collateral so that they will be rewarded by a ring and a title? In short, if their dependancy on men was not glorified and marketed and packaged as their ideal dream? And lastly, if men did their share of child care?

And it is not just the hours spend on housework and child care and the endless chores, it is also the taking care of all the “details” that keep a family going. It is about keeping doctor’s appointments and it is about haircuts and play dates and birthdays, and running from ballet classes to football practices, and parent / teacher days and helping at school plays, shopping for special costumes (or actually sowing them), baking biscuits, organising dinner parties, being responsible for buying gifts for everyone, doing the Christmas decorations, and cooking healthy-conscious meals for each and every member of their family, cutting apples in slices and sandwiches in triangles and so on. It is also about the mental energy spent, and the constant worrying and the burden of responsibility of keeping everyone healthy and happy and fed and clean (and their husband perpetually sexually satisfied of course at all costs!) No wonder so many married women are spent and constantly on the edge of a massive passive-aggressive meltdown. (Because who has the time for a proper one, right?)

In the aforementioned study, in their top 20 “lifesavers” (things or persons that help them get through their day), American married women included wet wipes, trusted babysitters, grandparents, yoga pants, ipads, drive-thru meals, kid’s TV shows and wine. Not their husbands! (see: 2 * ) Take a minute to ponder on that! Wet wipes are MORE helpful to them than their husbands! (Apparently all those Instagram photos, all those references to their “amazing hubby” on Facebook, and all those mommy blogs are misleading…)

Not only do they not help, but husbands actually stress women considerably more than their children do, as indicated by a different study (see: 3*) In short, it is not the raising and taking care of small kids that crashes them. It is the fact that they have to take care of a grown ass man as well…

Another study set to examine what men are doing while their wives are taking care of their kids or doing the housework, concluded that they just enjoy “leisure time”. (Like we needed a study for that one!) (see: 4*)

Women with children are of course also less likely to be hired, than childless ones, while men who have children are actually MORE likely to be hired than childless ones: for a woman, having children is seen as a counteragent to being responsible (!), while for a man a sign that he is! On top of that, there is the “motherhood penalty and the fatherhood bonus” phenomenon (see: 5* ): while men’s earnings increase more than 6 % when they have children, women’s decreased 4 % for EACH child they have. Which means that 4% is only the beginning… High-income men in particular will be rewarded with a considerable pay rise and promotions when they have children. The opposite will be the case for women, especially low-income ones! 

This is a of course a global phenomenon. In an effort to examine the causes for the gender pay gap, Henrik Kleven, an economist at Princeton University, used data from Denmark (a country with model social policies) and concluded that even in a country such as this, women’s earnings drop significantly after they have a child, while men’s don’t. In fact their own earnings increase, as shown by other studies (see: 6*  ). 

According to the Henrik Kleven study “the cumulative effect is huge: Women end up earning 20 percent less than their male counterparts over the course of their career”Kleven finds a sharp decline in women’s earnings after the birth of their first child — with no comparable salary drop for men. 

In addition to that, consider also the fact that the gender pay gap, refers mostly to married women. According to Michelle Budig, (see*7), a sociology professor at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst, who has studied (see *8) the parenthood pay gap for 15 years: childless, unmarried American women earn 96 cents for every dollar a man earns, while married mothers earn 76 cents!

The study also revealed that even though women outnumber men at all levels of post-secondary education this does’t reflect their prospects. Additionally, “women need more than a high school diploma, and ideally at least a bachelor’s degree to make family-sustaining wages.” In short, not only do they need to be more accomplished, and spend more years in their studies than the average guy, they also have to be repaying for years on end those additional student loan debts as well, a fact that puts them obviously, in an even more unfavourable position in relation to men in the same profession.

The same report reveals that  nearly three-quarters of Americans who earn more than $100,000 are men.

And let us not forget the “pink collar ghetto” (see*13) : the kind of jobs dominated by women (nursing, social work, teaching, midwifery, being a paralegal, a secretary, and other forms of invisible “helpers” to men..etc) are all jobs that are in most countries underpaid, and which still require at least a two-year diploma and often a degree, yet have a low starting wage and limited or no prospects (on top of being particularly stressful and emotionally draining) A fact that cements the “feminization of poverty” (A term coined by Karin Stallard, Barbara Ehrenreich and Holly Sklar in their book “Poverty in the American Dream: Women and Children First” (see: *18)

Add to all that, the fact that while a woman’s career will take a permanent back seat the minute she breathlessly whisper “I do!”, a man’s own will flourish once he gets married: married men were found to earn between “10 % and 40 % more than single men” (see*14) In short, as they are being supported and taken care of at home like children, they are free to devote their efforts, time, and energy onto their professional goals undisturbed! 

All the above, contributes of course to the perpetuation of the economic disenfranchisement of women in our societies, who therefore – ironically – have every reason to continue to see men as their “saviours”, and their body as their only truly valuable “currency”, and marriage (the very thing that causes their disenfranchisement in the first place), as their only life line. And their need to get married at all costs, is of course what keeps men from facing the mirror and being forced to evolve: Why would they? As long the world is populated with so many desperate for their attention, broken women? It’s a nice little vicious circle. A nice little arrangement. And it has kept patriarchy in business – and women in the shadows – for thousands of years…

Virginia Woolf wished for women to have some money and a “room of one’s own” if they were to write fiction (see *12). How many married women get to have that, not to mention the time to exist in it, and be themselves (the self they once knew, the self who just WAS? Undisturbed, untroubled, unburdened, unjudged, without guilt or without having to be poised and perfect and pleasant, and smiling, and perpetually youthful and slim and fit and well groomed and eager to please (which is another way of saying: sexually available) at all times? Married men love to complain about how the entire house is their wife’ s domain (usually because she gets to decorate it, NOT – God forbid – own it) and how they only get to have just one room to themselves: a garage, a study, a “den”, where they do all their major beer drinking, sports watching, video games playing (and porn-masturbating) activities. But the thing is, there is not one corner in that house where their wife can exist on her own for five minutes and be herself, in the manner that she used to, before she lost her sense of Self, before she was not being interrupted every second of the day by people who demand her time, her attention, her help, her unconditional love, her labour, her body. In fact there is no place in the entire planet where a married woman can exist undisturbed or guilt-free… (not to mention, for many of them, without the threat of violence!)

According to statistics, a woman who says “Yes” to a marriage proposal, will also get to live a SHORTER, MORE STRESSED and LESS HEALTHY LIFE than she would have, if she were to remain single (see: 15*) At the same time, her husband will get to live a LONGER, more stress-FREE and much more HEALTHY life than he would, if he were to remain single! (Yeah! who knew that being taken care of by someone who has been groomed from an early age to think it is her duty, would actually add to a man’s quality of life, and that spending your life constantly catering to someone else’ s needs, can eventually take a toll on your health?) 

A different study conducted by Caterina Trevisan at the University of Padua in Italy (see*19),  revealed that Italian widows “perk up” after husbands die, their quality of life and health improving exponentially: “ ITALIAN WIDOWS HAVE BETTER LIVES THAN WIVES, they suffer less stress and physical frailty than women whose husbands are still alive”, who found their role to be“restrictive and frustrating as they spend their entire life being the care giver to their husband. 

The study also concluded that single women also have “LESS anxiety, GREATER job satisfaction and HIGHER activity levels at work”.

It also revealed that (see: 20* “widows cope better than widowers with the stress deriving from the loss of a partner and widowhood” (Possibly because the Italian widower is loosing a domestic slave, while the Italian widow a tyrant…)

Another study (published in an article with the telling title: “Marriage is good for your health? Not if you’re a woman…” ) concluded that “NOT marrying or cohabiting is less detrimental among woman than men”(see: 10*

A different study examining the correlation between heart decease and marital status, revealed that the ones who are more likely to have poorer health are those who suffer from “high stress levels at home as the result of being responsible for domestic unpaid work, and not being the primary income earner”. And “these patients were predominantly married women” In short, it is the traditional gender roles within marriage, the loss of power and autonomy and the burden of the invisible, lifelong, unpaid domestic work that are literally killing women (and not just their spirit) (see: 11*

THIS is what a man is – more often than not – offering to a woman, as he extends smugly that little red box with the ring, thinking he is offering her the world, expecting her to get weak at the knees! This is the real deal. But the brainwashing is so damn powerful, (because it started so early and lasted for so many generations) that chances are, she WILL get weak at the knees and be unable to refuse. Even if she doesn’t really love him. (Or even remotely like him) Because she will instantly be rendered unable to think about what is actually good for her, what he is actually “offering”, what being a wife really means.

All those archetypal fears about spinsterhood, about her inability to survive on her own, about ageing that closes in taking away her options, will catch up with her, and stop her in her tracks. So that no choice, no path – but the one leading to that aisle – could ever be seen as a valid one. All those fairy tales, and all those rom-coms and novels and magazines, all those social media posts with engagement rings and wedding gowns and flower arrangements, and three-tiered vanilla cakes; all those other bragging women telling her she is a reject with their #feelingblessed hashtags; all those dreams which were planted in her head first by her mum then by the entire world; all those plans she’ s been having ever since she were a girl about the “perfect wedding day” and her “real purpose” in life; in short all those lies which were perpetuated by men looking to keep their privileges and by other frustrated married women looking to validate their choices will steal her options – and eventually, gradually, her rights.

(Never mind about a “special life”… Who needs it, when you get to have a “special day”, right?)

***


January 26, 2021. “What does it really mean?” – Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Art by Fanitsa Petrou: www.fanitsa-petrou.com.

Read also: Wedding Gowns & Lies A Saviour & Protector “Rituals & Rings”

Footnotes – Links / Statistics / Suggested reading:

1- https://uk.news.yahoo.com/moms-98-hours-week-study-155300906.html?guccounter=1

2- https://articles.aplus.com/whats-a-parent/study-shows-moms-25-full-time-jobs

3- https://www.today.com/parents/moms-confess-husband-versus-kids-who-stresses-them-out-more-1C9884930

4- https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s11199-017-0841-0

5- https://www.nytimes.com/2014/09/07/upshot/a-child-helps-your-career-if-youre-a-man.html

6- https://www.nytimes.com/2014/09/07/upshot/a-child-helps-your-career-if-youre-a-man.html

7- http://www.umass.edu/sociol/faculty_staff/bios/budig.html

8- https://www.thirdway.org/report/the-fatherhood-bonus-and-the-motherhood-penalty-parenthood-and-the-gender-gap-in-pay

9- https://www.standardmedia.co.ke/evewoman/article/2001232814/single-women-are-healthier-and-happier-than-married-women-research-shows

10- https://www.telegraph.co.uk/family/relationships/marriage-good-health-not-woman/

11- https://health.spectator.co.uk/marriage-harms-womens-health-now-we-have-a-better-grasp-of-why/

12- https://www.amazon.com/Room-Ones-Own-Virginia-Woolf/dp/0156787334/ref=sr_1_2?crid=17J70NJOBXMJI&dchild=1&keywords=virginia+wolfe&qid=1611824574&sprefix=virginia+wolf%2Caps%2C473&sr=8-2

13- http://www.sociologyindex.com/pink_collar_ghetto.htm

15- https://punchng.com/single-women-healthier-happier-than-married-women-study/

17- http://www.beatrixcampbell.co.uk/books/end-of-equality-manifestos-for-the-21st-century/

18- https://www.amazon.com/Poverty-American-Dream-Children-pamphlet/dp/0896081974

19- https://www.liebertpub.com/doi/abs/10.1089/jwh.2015.5592?journalCode=jwh

20- https://www.standardmedia.co.ke/evewoman/article/2001232814/single-women-are-healthier-and-happier-than-married-women-research-shows



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The Quarantine – Glass Half Empty.

Thoughts on Social Distancing and the Coronavirus Pandemic – Part III

“…We are being infantilized, we are becoming needy children in need of constant feedback. And we are being told the lie that all of it is free. That we are not all saleable data to be used by firms and governments. Each online behavioural pattern, each click scary in its predictive efficiency…”

The coronavirus pandemic and the quarantine that followed, have reminded us, that no matter where we live, we are all facing the same dangers, the same fears. And that we are living in changing times.  The world we once knew, and on which we could depend, is slipping away from us. We know that something has gone wrong. The Earth can take no more abuse and is showing signs that the tipping point is near! Racism is making a “come back”. Misogyny is finding a great ally in pornography, which is saturating men’s souls daily fuelling violence against women and children. The way we treat animals has resulted in us, being caged! And conspiracy theorists are having a good day as their pet suppositions about clandestine and nefarious plans orchestrated by billionaires who are poised to bring about the new world order (starting with “population control” through vaccinations) is hitting a nerve. You want to see them as the laughable illusions of fanatics, but it doesn’t help that said billionaire(s) have been repeatedly been recorded making such claims. Even without the shadow of such doubts, we can’t help but be hesitant about the future.

Things are coming to an end in many ways in our world, and a new (who are we kidding?) grimmer era is looming on the horizon. While we are exchanging platitudes on Facebook, a handful of conglomerate firms decide the future of humanity; racism and sexism are becoming OK again; civil liberties which have been earned at high costs by generations of activists are being sacrificed on the altar of “safety”, which was put in jeopardy especially in order to justify the need to be sacrificed. The Islam armed by the hand of the West is spreading fear. And by that, it becomes one hell of an excuse for the West to retaliate, to escalate the violence, and by that to follow the calling of petrol with “damn good reasons” – To play the card of patriotism that wins elections. Prejudice, violence, racism, xenophobia, misogyny. Vicious circles. This is the Scary New World. And we seem to deserve it. 

The “new” Europe is still struggling to find identity under the ruins left by Communism. The maps were redesigned, new lines added, others lost for ever, and with them, entire worlds. (What is one to do with the memories of them? And what does it do to you when you are asked to pretend they never existed?) People taking planes and cars and fleeing in hope of a salvation, grabbing with both hands onto survival, with the determination, and the grit, and the steely eyes of the ones who have been cheated on, and lied to, and left to die in the street like dogs. The old Europe on the other hand, bent under the weight of its history, reliving familiar scenarios, facing old dilemmas, being forced to see reflections in mirrors that show that the lessons needed to be repeated: the OTHER, is still out there, still a threat: the Syrian refugees fleeting war and famine and horror, the blond Eastern hordes, or the brown skinned immigrants escaping destitute or bloodshed and who are out to “steal” jobs and alter what was familiar and trusted, become the “new” Jews. Southern Europe (Portugal, Italy, Greece, Spain) the places with the darker-skinned faces, the chaotic economies, the louder, unruly individuals, who grew up under the Sun, and have a spirit that is alien to those who are familiar with heavy endless Winters) being punished for stepping on the lines, being pushed in a recession that forced them – predictably – into obedience. And the acronym PIGS (Portugal, Italy, Greece, Spain) that was a few years back created by Northern Europeans in order to describe them, speaking volumes about how they are seen by them… (At the root of all conflicts there’s always racism and misogyny it seems. If you look close enough and for long enough, it is always the blue eyed, blond ones against the darker skinned ones. And it is always the white, Christian, heterosexual males against anyone who is not them…)

And Germany, gradually, methodically reclaiming the old role of the European leader, through the EU, holding the yardstick that measures us all. (The WWIII will not take place in trenches but EU conference rooms, and banks) On the other hand, the lasting devastation caused by colonialism that affected generations of people, completely bypassing the memory ( if not the conscience) of those who have voted for Brexit, who are now (with no sense of irony) angry at the “strangers” who are “destroying” their own country… And in the midst of it all, the working classes everywhere are suffering, and the middle classes are being eliminated, so that the lifestyle of the 1%, with the private islands and the life of endless Summers is secured. And the new Right stands in the middle of it all waiting, waiting. Counting time.

The same people who were fighting over who gets more toilet paper, are still finding it hard to understand what it means to loose everything and run for the boarder. Their own panic about running out of toilet paper, is still to their eyes a greater misfortune than hoping your kids won’t die in the next bomb explosion, that they won’t starve to death, be tortured by soldiers, raped, killed. So they still face immigrants and refugees as the enemy at the gates. Empathy is after all a costly business. It forces you to change, to lose privileges, to face your own entitlement, to allow others to exist…

People are struggling again, borders are being crossed, lives are being forced to fit into suitcases, fears are being renewed, people of colour are for once again being seen as the “Other”. The US fetishising archetypes of a dated  and poisonous masculinity: the religiosity; the philandering millionaire president who gives promises of patriotic “greatness” and promotes misogyny, xenophobia, white “Supremacy” unapologetically; the “reclaimed” racism; the demonisation of the press; the glorification of the tyrannical instincts of an oligarchy and the political marginalisation of women and the loss of control of their reproductive rights, are all becoming – one fears – the breeding ground of a pending autocracy. The “Thank you for our service” robotic mantra in the presence of soldiers (so that people won’t notice that they are more often than not, being sent to attack, not defend; to destroy, not protect, and above all else, to keep the arms industry in business and the oil running and in the hands of the few; and so that the soldiers themselves will forget that they will inevitably be cast aside once they are discharged, after the war machine is done with them).

Our world is becoming smaller as we are being told the lie that it expands. it is Ikea-sed. Tiny foldable furniture to fit tiny rooms. Identical lives, small ambitions, disposable Art, longer hours, unpaid labour, corroded pension funds, made up identities, opinions taking the place of truth, relativism the place of morality, the fake life we pretend to have in photos specifically taken for this purpose taking inside us the place of the life we actually have, Twitter taking the place of fact-checking, facebook memes taking the place of an actual social rebellion, Youtubers taking the place of real journalists or scientists, crafters and imposters  taking the place of artists, commenting on social media from the comfort of your home, taking the place of a real uprising, and our dependence on the external ratification of followers and likes, taking the place of self awareness. 

The impact of this present crisis, is already great. As a result of the shrinking economy due to the global lockdowns, unemployment is skyrocketing and the number of people facing “acute food insecurity could double, jumping to 265 million” according to a new report by the UN World Food Programme (WFP), while, according to UNCTAD  (The UN’s trade and development agency) the coronavirus outbreak is likely to cost at least $1 trillion”

Conspiracy theories about 5G technology gradually destroying our immune system turning it into the playground of viruses, which were created in labs for the specific purpose of eliminating the elderly and conveniently freeing governments from the burden of social welfare, may sound (and are) far-fetched and ridiculous. But if it’s one thing we can rely on, is that according to studies (Informa Tech research paper) 5G technology “could be responsible for 22.3 million jobs and $13.2 trillion of global economic output by 2035”. Which might mean that a lot of jobs that do not exist in that sphere, will be considered obsolete and a lot of people’ s lives will be affected dramatically and for ever. The new economy will just get rid of most of us…

We are being given the world we are being told, through the global platforms of social media. We are “selling to a global market”,” talking to a global audience”, but in reality, we all are shrinking into ourselves to take up less space. Out there, in the real world, in terms of our place in the economy, in terms of real political power, in terms of our freedom. Or in terms of the right to have access to actual facts (not rumour, speculation, fabricated news, or the opinion of social media commenters) And as women, we are still being sold the lie that raunchy exhibitionism is “empowering”. Prostitution a work like any other. And the biggest lie of them all: that marriage is a feminist choice. Our political and social exclusion, and the violence used against us in porn or everyday life, are seen as natural, as expected, as justified, as liberation, as a proof of being “desired”, as a way of being told we are sexy and worthy of being given rings – and an allowance. Like children. (Anything a man does to a woman – including abuse or murder – is seen on some level as a compliment after all…) And most of us will be fine with it. Most of us will buy it. And the rest of us are just tired… Defeated by the waves coming at us. 

Academics, writers, artists, journalists, scientists, are also being silenced by the mere fact that the “democratisation” of media has marginalised them, and forced them in the (fact-free) corner: their voices are muffled by the constant noise of Instagram “influencers”, youtubers, podcasters, crafters, “content fillers” and an entire world of social media commenters, who are collectively claiming their right to shout, not to know. To criticize rather than do. Professionals, experts of any kind, can either remain in that corner, or play the game. And if they do, they are fighting for the same space that is occupied by flat-Earthers, creationists, religious fanatics, white Supremacists, attention seekers, and every single person in the world who happens to have a wi-fi connection and is claiming the right to have an audience. Who shouts the loudest, is the one whose opinion matters, whose “truth” is relevant, and who gets to have the “followers’. Who is more willing to flatter the ego of social commenters is the one who gets to “lead” in this new era. Art has become demystified, has become pedestrian, a show. Visual artists (painters, designers, illustrators – which is to say introverts) are required to “perform” on video, to be OK with being watched by complete strangers while they are working, so that the social media users will feel there is nothing separating them and an artist – a comforting thought, I’m sure. And those who are willing to play the game, who are OK with inviting complete strangers inside their homes or studios, are the ones with a better chance of success… Posts with one’s dog, cat, kids, kitchen, salad plates, bedrooms, exercise regimes, become the bait that will bring on the sales… (It has come to that)

A sense of privacy (let alone, a sense of shame or dignity!) has become an obsolete concept. Morality has become relative. Reality has become dependent on anyone’s point of view. Decency and basic manners a thing of the past. This inevitably leads to Donald Trump telling us (with the confidence of an entire clinic of doctors) that we need to be drinking bleach to fight the coronavirus… It is not just the rich guy’s entitlement that makes him think he can actually profess opinions about things that he is obviously (phenomenally, comically) ignorant. It is that the world in which we live, everybody is feeling the same. Lurking in the absurdity of his words is the very thing that defines this moment in time: on social media, EVERYONE is Trump, unapologetically telling each other to drink bleach… Everyone is seeking for everyone’s approval, certain that it is well deserved. Everyone has the confidence, the entitlement, the lack of self-awareness of an old, rich, racist, misogynist, white man who woke up one morning and was – for reasons that defy logic – the president of the most powerful nation in the world, and by that, was certain that he possessed all knowledge. Within the made up world of social media, everyone can (finally) be perceived to be what they hoped they are, what they claim to be, instead of what they really are. If enough people “follow” them, “Like” them , then Voila! a new reality is contrived.

The demise of print journalism has changed the world more than we realise. What’s out there, served to us as News, as reality, is more often than not, no longer the result of hard working professionals (writers, journalists, essayists, and so on) who are telling us the harsh truths, or putting their life on the line in order to inform, reveal, expose, analyse, point towards the truth, but “content creators”. People whose job is to fill in the space in online publications, and feed the beast: the hungry for distractions social media users, who prefer memes, gifs, soundbites, rather than the burden of reading entire articles, or God forbid, books! And so analytical minds have been substituted with analytics! Creative souls with “influencers”.

Social media are no longer an innocent pastime but the tool by which we will be used by governments and marketeers . We are being infantilized, we are becoming needy children in need of constant feedback. And we are being told the lie that all of it is free. That we are not all saleable data to be used by firms and governments. Each online behavioural pattern, each click scary in its predictive efficiency.

Being worried that democracy is being falsified, that fear (of refugees, of immigrants, of people of colour, of women who value independence, or of horrible infectious deceases) is being used globally, to corrode civil liberties, and keep all of us in a constant state of fear and dependance, is a sign of sanity. Google for example, has recently published the location data of mobile users living in 130 countries, to measure how coronavirus lockdowns are working. Every minute we spent on the Internet results in saleable data of some kind anyway. This time we are told it is for our own good. But the convenient precedent has been created. The path has been opened. Social isolation has also turned every transaction into an online one. Every minute of every hours we spend online, and every cent we spend are monitored in ways that were previously unthinkable. Cash is on the way out, because it is attached to anonymity and because of that, a sense of independence, we are no longer allowed to have. 

The future is not ours, is what is spelled out by all of it. Worry about THAT! Because when you will be getting a new haircut or ordering a Macchiatto at your favourite cafe, is the least of your problems…


May 7, 2020. The Quarantine – Glass EmptyThoughts on Social Distancing and the Coronavirus Pandemic – Part III – Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. www.fanitsa-petrou.com.

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The Quarantine – Glass Half Full.

Thoughts on Social Distancing and the Coronavirus Pandemic – Part II

“…Most of us have a long way to go before we need to start fighting in the streets for a can of expired sardines. Until then, we need to take it easy…

Celebrities, American late night hosts and political satirists, are ALL telling us how unbearable this lockdown is. How it is the worst thing they have ever experienced. Really? The worst? “You lucky, LUCKY bastards!” You want to shout to them. Try not having a house (let alone a mansion) in which to stay and chill! Try surviving a war, years of domestic abuse, a famine, a gang rape. Try being forced to leave your home in the middle of the night and be thrown like cargo on a boat, and then cross half a continent on foot. While being pregnant! Think of what Syrian refugees or starving kids in Yemen, are going through. Kids being taken by sex traffickers. Or kids growing up in your own back yard, in American urban neighborhoods that offer no other option than drug abuse, prostitution or the joining of gangs. Which is to say, a life full of violence and endless variations of hell which they are forced to relive again and again, until they expire in street corners. 

And that goes for all of us: so you spend a month or two at home, and you are forced to make your own coffee. Honestly, how bad is it really? If your family is OK, and if you do have a little money to keep you going, if you are not daily in harm’s way because you are not a healthcare worker, a grocery shop teller, or similar, if you are healthy, and in possession of an apparently endless supply of toilet paper, an access to pizza delivery services and plenty of distraction (wi-fi, and TV and books and music and DVDs, and – obviously! – social media, a couple of sudoku puzzle books, a board game,  and if not all of that at least a glue gun and some yarn), and on top of that, possibly a job waiting for you once this lockdown is lifted, then you’ll do fine.

It may not be pleasant staying home all day, but the thing is, this is hardly an apocalypses. Most of us have a long way to go before we need to start fighting in the streets for a can of expired sardines. Until then, we need to take it easy…

Besides, how many times have you expressed the desire to get a chance to just be? To have a few days off work to clean the garage, plant a few flowers in your back yard, declutter your closet, or more likely, to just sit on your sofa with a book and a glass of wine, or more likely, in front of the telly, and just be? Undisturbed (AND without feeling guilty for doing it – unless you are a mum of course), have family meals all together, or reconnect with your kids (unless they are teenagers, in which case, this is not humanely possible. And God may be with you for being locked down with them…) Well, this is your chance. Not only are you not being reprimanded by teachers, clients, managers, bosses, and other authority figures who have been the bane of your existence for years, for doing so, you are actually being told you are the hero of the hour. By staying home, taking naps, day-drinking and binge-watching Netflix, you are actually saving humanity! And if you are among the lucky ones who are even getting some form of monetary compensation for staying at home and doing nothing, then honestly, I don’t want to hear any more of your complaints. 

And if all this will lead to some good habits, like regular (even obsessing!) hand washing, coughing into tissues instead of other people’s faces, or the abolition of handshakes (because WHY?), this is good news in my book. Too bad so many had to die in order for people to realise that these are life saving practises…

Plus, the quarantine has an upside: it offers a chance to reboot our lives (and the planet) so to speak. If a nap can refresh you, imagine what two months of not going to work can do to your stress levels, and if you won’t catch the decease, your actual health! And, if turning off the lights for an hour every year on Earth Day is giving the planet a little breather, imagine what two months without cars in the streets can do! It’s actually already happening! According to the World Meteorological Organization, our social isolation is expected to drive carbon dioxide emissions down by six percent this year. And that’s the biggest yearly drop since World War II! Imagine that! And that is not all. Rivers are not as polluted as they used to be. Wild animals are being sighted in cities, dolphins are appearing in Italy’s waterways, while the canals in Venice are now running clear! Maybe we should seriously consider making this a yearly event (the social distancing / lockdown thing not the dying of infectious deceases obviously)! My vote is for the week between Xmas and New Year’s Day which is already in a kind of no man’s land…

Sure, it would feel great to have a day at the beach, meet our friends, go to the cinema or to see a play, and sure, live without fear of the future, or ignore the nagging feeling that conspiracy theorists were right all along (about shady millionaires rooting for “population control” though manufactured viruses, untested drugs that will be forced upon us, the New World Order gaining on us, and so on), but what are you gonna do? There are worse things out there, which are hardly theoretical, and for the moment at least, they are not happening to you.

And try to remember: in the end, this too shall pass…. And also, it’s not the staying home we should all be worried about. It’s what is coming after it


The Quarantine – Glass FullThoughts on Social Distancing and the Coronavirus Pandemic – Part II – Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. www.fanitsa-petrou.com.

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The Quarantine Journals.

Thoughts on Social Distancing and the Coronavirus Pandemic – Part I

 “…just me and my dog wandering the night streets like Will Smith in I am Legend...

In the meantime, “Murder Hornets” have invaded the US. I’m guessing the biblical locusts can’t be that far behind…

***

Remember those diaries we used to keep as kids? Those of us who were lucky to have been born in the late 60s, early 70s, in the time before the “shift”. Before screens started sucking up everything around us, back when we were allowed to live unrecorded lives, have innocent secrets we were not meant to publicise, photos we would never share with strangers, habits we were not meant to advertise. Words and thoughts, which were meant to be for us. A sense of self, that was not formed by likes and followers.

We would usually receive them as Xmas gifts, from clueless aunts who thought we needed even more reasons to be introvert and unhealthily focused on every minute detail of the things that hurt us. They usually had tiny, flimsy keys (that were obviously supposed to protect our privacy from tiny little elves), and ponies with rainbow manes on the cover. And if not ponies, then drawings of girls with huge eyes and ponytails that came down to their knees, who were holding flowers while having pensive thoughts – no doubt – about boys. 

We would be vigilant at first, choosing quiet corners, writing furiously, hand capped over the page protecting our secrets from thoughtless adults and nosey siblings, but by the third week of January, we would predictably get bored with them and give them up. Because let’s face it, how many times can you begin each entry with “Dear diary, I hate my life!”? Usually on account of not being Audrey Hepburn in Funny Face, living in a bookstore (this alone could do it!) and being discovered by (a preferably younger) Fred Astaire (even as kids we could recognise the ridiculousness of that mismatch) who would take us to Paris to meet existential philosophers and be photographed at Champs-Élysées, holding balloons and pigeons. Or to be more precise, to be the one who came up with the idea… (Which might mean the “Think Pink!” lady! was the dream, not Audrey Hepburn…)

Well it’s been decades (four to be exact), and here I am again attempting to keep an isolation journal of sorts, marking time on a hypothetical prison wall, as it were. I got another one as a gift. I’m actually not kidding. It’s a leather bound notebook actually. It’s hand-stitched, and has markings and seals and yellowish – no doubt recycled – pages, and a smell… Tree-free and acid free I was told – never mind about the water buffalo that had to offer it’s skin. It even has a crystal in the middle (amber? citrine?) like something out of Harry Potter. The “memoriae stone” or something like that… One of the most beautiful gifts I have ever received! (Thank you A.) Writing longhand in it, makes me feel like one of those female explorers who were crossing the Sahara on camels, stopping at Cairo for tea, and writing nostalgic prose about sunsets on the Serengeti. Now I wish I was wearing a riding culotte, or at the very least, a safari jacket. Or that I had something more romantic to write about, involving the beduins’s  song rising in the night, and not the purchase of toilet paper…

January 1

I don’t know why, but 2020 just feels lucky, you know?! Yes sir! 2020 is going to be spectacular! I feel it in my bones! Something great this way comes! I’m never wrong about these things!

January 7

News of a new mysterious decease is being reported. People in far away lands (China, then Thailand) getting sick, leaving scientists perplexed, and the rest of us feeling mildly interested, sad, but still safe, you know? Talks of bats and snakes being eaten in weird meat bazaars being the cause of it add an exotic touch, and the vague certainty that this won’t affect us. This sort of thing doesn’t happen here. This has nothing to do with us, we tell ourselves. This is still going to be a great GREAT year! No doubt about that one. Plus the mean thought: Meat eaters. What do you expect? 

January 15

The mysterious virus had made its way to Europe, Australia, the USA. In pharmacies, people begin to casually ask about masks. In the week that follows, they will be less coy, less eager to prove they are not really scared, less self-conscious about how they will look if they buy whole boxes of them. 

The city of Wuhan, the city of patient 0, is mentioned daily in the news, and gradually so are the numbers of confirmed cases in Asia, Australia, France, America.

January 23

58 millions living in four cities in China are quarantined. We are still surprised by this news; not quite believing it might affect us. This is after all our year! 

I start a new illustration with Frida Kahlo wearing a mask. 

What is it about her that fascinates all artists? We all love creating portraits of hers (God knows I have created my share!) Those eyebrows, those flower crowns, that hair, those skull earrings, those clothes, those shawls. That defiant stare. That fragility! It’s like one of us has created her in our minds… No wonder we all love painting her… She is still being rediscovered by generations of artists who are keeping her memory alive.

January 30

New cases are confirmed in Canada, Germany, India, the Philippines, Vietnam, Japan, Singapore, Russia, Spain, Sweden, the United Kingdom, Australia, the US, the UAE. The tally of deaths shocks us daily. This is getting serious. This is now real! 

March 1

I decline an invitation to a dinner party, on account that I would rather stay home… Dinner parties still take place, yes. And I still hate them. Especially this kind: a room full of accountants and bankers – my basic nightmare – who think there is only one way of doing things: theirs. Me, being the hostess’s attempt at proving to them that she is open-minded really, and “cool”: “Look everyone I invited an artist!” (as in a three-eyed alien who speaks in tongues) The entire room cornering me, giving me those stares that are a strange mix of envy and utter contempt, asking me in total disbelief “and you make money out of this?”

March 3 

I start a new painting. Another Fantasy Art piece (An Art Nouveau inspired Mermaid, titled Mermaid Dreams” – Because that is what the world needs during a pandemic: mermaid art…

I decide that I will record the process. Be one with the times for once. Betray my principles and break the fourth wall… (Being an artist is no longer enough. You have to be watched being one, as well…)

March 7

China’s Health Commission reports that there are at least 80,651 confirmed cases in China!

March 9

The first local confirmed case. The shadow is approaching our doorstep. In the meantime, Iran releases 70,000 prisoners because of the coronavirus outbreak in the country! Wow!

March 10

Much like people in WWII movies, we now can’t leave home unless we have a permit and identification papers. So retro. So scary! You are half expecting to hear the policemen (who are suddenly patrolling the streets) to bark at you “Ihre papiere, bitte”

March 11

The World Health Organization declares that it considers the coronavirus outbreak to be a pandemic. (Yethink?!). 

March 15 

“Mermaid Dreams” is finished. I post an Art process video on Youtube. It gets no views. The fourth wall is safely up… Not even a crack…

March 17

As I’m searching through old paintings, I come across two, which are meant to offer a theoretical glimpse into the future. They both depict mask-wearing people. They were both made in 1999… (otherwise known as “my last good year” before I was apparently cursed by a gypsy)

March 18 

I start a series of designs inspired by what is happening around us. 

March 21

Europe is now the epicentre of the pandemic. Italy is mourning 4,825 deaths! We hear stories about doctors being forced to make tough decisions: Who gets the ventilator? Who gets to live? Who dies? It has come to that…

The first death is reported here, and a curfew is imposed. The irrational, selfish thought: like they couldn’t do this on th 1st of the month? What a brilliant excuse it would be for declining that dinner party thing! “I’m so sorry, the government says I shouldn’t! It kills me, as there’s nothing that I want more than spend 4 hours with a group of people who bore me to the point of tears and cause me to have dark thoughts about the future of humanity, but there you go. It’s forbidden.”

March 23

Time to follow the global trend and stock up on toilet paper. And tea. And biscuits. The apocalypse won’t find us unprepared…

March 24

The lockout measures become even more restricting, after a bunch of idiots were discovered by the police having a bingo block party. (I kid you not!) Now we are only allowed to go out once a day, and each time we do, we need to let the government know via text! Much like when women are dealing with a jealous and unreasonable husband: we are being infantilized for our “own protection”. 

March 29

New cases are recorded daily. Time to stop pretending this is not serious and invest in some masks. Pharmacist says they are out of stock. It pays to panic early. 

March 30

After going to three pharmacies, I was finally able to buy two disposable masks. Two! They are rationed like sugar during wars… Thank goodness for the countless scarves I have bought (and designed!) over the years. I knew there was a reason. Floral is the new black.

March 31

We are now banned from leaving our home after 9.00 in the evening and until 6.00 in the morning. Which prompts the question: where the hell would I go after 9.00? And also: why??

April 2

Going to the supermarket feels like you are suddenly on the set of a dystopian movie. People in masks, blurry eyed tellers hidden behind glass windows, whole sections full of now unreachable to you goods being cut off by yellow police tape.

Who would have thought that in the face of an apocalypses, we would all be united in our belief that our most precious commodity is toilet paper?

Upon returning home I spend an hour and half sanitising every single item. Maybe death by coronavirus is preferable to this?

April 3

Feeling dizzy and tired. It could be the guy who coughed on me at the supermarket the other day, has given me the coronavirus. Or possibly the bubonic plaque. Or it could be the fact that I haven’t slept in days and have eaten my weight in biscuits. 

Now I wish I have vacuumed. If I die during the night, the ambulance people will be faced with a serious accumulation of dust bunnies, should they feel the urge to look underneath the bed. My mum was right all along. Always be prepared. In case you die.

Random thought: do celebrities and billionaires force their staff to be locked with them during the quarantine? Like Egyptian Pharaohs taking their slaves into the grave with them in order to serve them in the afterlife? I bet they do. I can’t imagine any of them doing laundry or scrapping the dog’s vomit from the carpet… I bet they keep them locked up with them, so that they will be kept in a constant supply of superfood smoothies and insanely complicated Keto salmon dishes. 

April 4

16 new confirmed cases, all people working at a bakery chain. I have now stopped buying bread. 

April 5

Introverts are finally taking their revenge: extroverts are having a tough time as are unprepared (and possibly unable) to sit still for five minutes and be alone with their own thoughts… Nobody laughing at their jokes, nobody urging them on, nobody praising them, nobody becoming the mirror on which their self is reflected… Must be tough.

Yes, this is easy for me. I was social distancing long before it was cool. In fact I’m a fucking pro! What does it say about you when a quarantine is imposed, and your life is not dramatically changed? Or that you can’t help but think “this lockdown business is not half  bad” on account of now being certain that everybody else is also at their home and not attempting to come to yours uninvited and unannounced. Were ever more scary words uttered via a mobile phone, than “guessed where I am now?” followed by a knock on the door? How difficult is it for people to get it that you work from home? When did I ever randomly dropped by their office, the bank, the classroom, the shop in which they work, expecting to be fed cake and proceeded to talk for four hours and a half about my ex? How come I’m supposed to get it, that this is not right, but they never do?

Say what you want about the corona virus. It at least saved us from the random“pop-ins”.

April 6

The fact that going out for purposes of exercise or for walking your dog are two of the few things we are still allowed to do, has turned people into athletes all of a sudden. Is it because gyms are now closed? It could explain it. Or maybe it’s just cabin fever that turned all these people into marathon runners and dog lovers. The streets are suddenly full of joggers, bicycle riders, roller skaters, dog walkers. Where were all these people before the lockout, you wonder. And more importantly: where were all these dogs peeing for all this time? Are they borrowed? Are these the same 10 dogs? Do these people take turns taking them on walks? 

It’ s young people mostly, in their 20s, early 30s. In trendy gym get-ups, proper running gear, gadgets and no doubt, apps, that record every step (because did they really run if you don’t know how many steps they took?). Everywhere you go, they are coming at you from every street, like shiny, robust zombies. It took them a couple of days to discover this new obsession mind you (or for the Amazon packages with the running gear to arrive, possibly). In the first days of the lockout, the streets were eerie, empty, deserted. No cars or pedestrians, just me and my dog wandering the night streets like Will Smith in I am Legend. Finally feeling free to sing out loud as I’m walking. I want to pretend I was singing along some obscure British band, or at least something properly cool, like early David Bowie or Cult, but sadly it’s mostly showtunes, Billy Joel and Abba. Yes. Abba. Shut up! That’s the soundtrack of my happy place… Give it a go before you laugh at it… ) while thinking guiltily that this new isolation business is a delight! Oh, I could get used to this. In fact I’m loving it! No waiting at the traffic lights, no other dogs barking at yours, no creepy strangers scaring you in the park. (A night street without men feels suddenly safe! Who knew it was possible to feel that in one’s lifetime?) It didn’t last long. The hordes of young joggers have descended upon us. All of them mask-less / scarf-less mind you. 

Everywhere you go it’s the same. People over a certain age use masks, scarves over their mouths, gloves, sanitizers. They keep their distance, they take precautions. They got the message. They know what’s all about. They get it that this is not just another thing to add on Instagram. This can actually kill them. They are shameless in their desire to be protected by the possibility of an agonising death. Middle aged people are additionally aware that if they get sick, their parents might too, and it might end badly…  Most young people, just because they are mostly immune to this fresh hell, just don’t give a damn. The fact that they could be asymptomatic carriers of the decease which they could pass on to older people, their parents and grandparents for example (not to mention every older stranger they meet) who might get sick and die, doesn’t  seem to affect them much. Death lurks out there. But not for them. (A definition of youth if I ever saw one. But also of old age… That’s how we are all defined and by which we measure things: by our proximity to death) So they don’t bother with masks, gloves, the like… And they look at you (the mask wearing, careful, sanitising, you) condescendingly, with that mix of arrogance, contempt and amusement. If at all, given that you become invisible to them the minute you turn 45. That’s the thing about youth. It makes you fearless. And a little bit heartless… 

They are of course the same people who will pontificate for hours on social media about the melting of polar ice caps, who will organise fundraisers (public and publicized it goes without saying) that ask people to sponsor their every haircut, and every single cupcake they bake, or else set up businesses that have “social impact” angles: with each wooden bow tie (don’t get me started), with each “bespoken” backpack, with each made-out-of-reclaimed-wood bedside table you buy, with each “I-have-just-invented-the-steam-machine- beard” you trim, you rescue a kitten, you plant a tree, you save a dolphin, a baby elephant, the Earth, the universe, or else a trans individual gets a tiara. So when you buy what they are selling, you are not simply giving them your money but also praise! Sweet, life-giving, public, precious, PRECIOUS! praise! (Don’t kid yourselves kids, that’s what is really about. That’s your crack. Because when your own comfort is on the line, or when the good you do is likely to go unnoticed you are not as eager to “give” are you?)

“How about saving your parents and grandparents from a pandemic?” you want to shout to them as they are wandering maskless, gloveless, footloose and fancy free in supermarket aisles, breathing into your face, leaning on you to reach their organic oatmeals, their obscure beer brands, their super-food idiocies… “How about rescuing senior citizens and middle aged women this month? How about making THEM you new mission? If this madness continues, they are about to be extinct too… Give it a rest on the dolphins for a day, and wear a damn mask for the sake of those you have given you life, you thoughtless, self-delusional, narcissistic, self- congratulating fools”! 

What if there was an app sending some kind of message on social media (a balloon emoticon, the sound of clapping, the cheering of adoring crowds, or better still the promise of a thousand Likes and a horde of followers?) each time they don’t cough on you, each time they wear a mask when they step out? I bet they would jump on it.

Next time I see any one of them approaching me dangerously close, I swear I will start singing to them: “…Waterloo – I was defeated, you won the war / Waterloo – Promise to love you for ever more/ Wooooaaaaaaterloo – Finally facing my Waterloo…” If that doesn’t put the fear of God into them, I don’t know what will…

April 7

I’m quite proud of myself for not going full shut-in mode, and resisting the urge to stay in my PJs all day long. Not to say I’m not tempted… 

People are getting dressed to take the garbage out (and of course taking videos of themselves and posting them on social media) It’s actually starting to make a little sense… (While just a week ago seemed ludicrous) 

Women all over the world are discovering the joys of not giving a damn about their looks, as they are now working from home (Unless they are married of course. No off days allowed if they are… Gotta keep that man interested, they have been told. (Nobody told men the same, it goes without saying) Though they are not thinking this through. Where is he gonna go?) 

This is how men exist in the world I guess. They wake up, have a shower (if at all), eat their prepared by a woman breakfast (a mother, a wife, a girlfriend, a daughter, a sister, a maid), put on a freshly ironed shirt (freshly ironed by one of the above) and off they go to work, ready to conquer the world. While women are getting up 2 hours earlier at the very least, getting everybody ready and fed, and on top of that, doing their hair and make up, balancing on high heels, trying outfit after outfit, always searching for that elusive one that won’ t make them feel invisible, unimportant, undesirable, unacceptable and 10 different kinds of inadequate (too fat, too thin, too short, too tall, too slutty, too serious, too unfit, too fit, too sexy, too unsexy, and (regardless of their age) always not young enough, and generally speaking too anything other than what men decide they should be, at any given moment in time…) Already defeated by their day, before it even begins… Because being accomplished, intelligent, well educated, hard working, good at their job, is never really enough, is it?

“Why does it take you so long to get ready?” we are being asked by the men in our life. “Look at me. I’m ready in 5 minutes” they tell us smugly. Oblivious to the fact that they don’t live in the same hostile world… (Or that they are the ones who made it that way)

April 8

I begin work on another illustration. A companion piece for the “Mermaid Dreams” one. This one is titled “The Mermaid – La Sirène Given that it is part of a set of two, I decide to record the process of this one as well. 

Listening to “The Dickens Collection” e-books (Cds to be exact) while I’m working. Started with Great Expectations. It never gets old…

April 9

My eyebrows are so thick by now, I could be mistaken for an Instagram influencer… An older, fatter one obviously. Inclusivity, anyone?

April 10

The UK announced its worst single-day death toll with a further 980 people who had contracted coronavirus losing their lives in the span of 24 hours!

April 11 

Confirmed cases in the US  reach 519,000 and the death toll of 20,071, is surpassing Italy’s toll of 19,468!!

April 12

I am rewatching random Monk episodes, and suddenly everything he does, looks like a sign of sanity. Clearly, a man ahead of his time. I decide to create a few designs on that.

Of course Monk leads to Sherlock, Sherlock leads to The Mentalist (intelligent, damaged, emotionally unavailable men, hello? And when they even look like Simon Baker? Oh boy!) and The Mentalist leads to the funny version of all of the above: Psych. (So brilliant and silly! And just what the doctor ordered to lift the spirits. One of the very few shows that are actually laugh out loud kind of funny, but not grass and which you can watch with your kids). And then Psych leads of course all my usual go-tos when I need a little cheering up: Black Books (the “Grapes of Wrath”episode), the IT-crowd (The “Moss and the German” episode), Hyperdrive (the “Hello Queppu” episode) and inevitably “Up the Women” (all episodes) and my latest obsession, “Derry Girls” Thank goodness I can watch while I’m working…

April 13

My married friends are starting to show signs of, well… honesty:  (That’s the thing about pandemics and the collapse of societal norms: they force you to face reality) They are suddenly less eager to sell the  “my hubby is the best!” agenda and are slowly entering the “if-I-spend-another-minute-with-him-this-will-turn-into-a-murder-suicide” phase. On a similar note, not many women are posting photos with their husband with #feelingblessed hastags these days. Poor married women. They live in constant fear each time their husband (and his dick) leaves the home, and then again the idea of him being at home all the time is excruciating…

As their husbands are playing video games or watching old soccer matches, surrounded by beer cans and a bad smell, or else spending half a day locked in the bathroom masturbating angrily, women are still expected to keep a clean house, a well groomed self and a smile on their face. Between cooking and doing laundry and having meetings with clients on Zoom, and homeschooling their – by now feral kids – and bragging a little bit on facebook (old habits die hard), and trying to keep their sanity intact, and their roots from showing, they are daily falling apart. And they are the lucky ones. Countless other married women out there are faced with the constant threat of violence as they are now forced to live 24/7 with their abuser. In the UK alone the number of domestic killings has doubled during this time! Women and children are in desperate need of help, and are now living in a world that denies them that right even more than it did before.

(Pre-emptively: yes, yes #notallmen and NO! I m not talking about #yourhusband, who is obviously nothing like that, given that he is a puppy-loving, diaper changing, lullaby-singing, love-letters writing, lazania-making fireman with spectacular abs, who builds houses, have fists fights for you, and reads poetry while washing the dishes, fixing your car (and then detailing it), giving you foot massages and massive orgasms, while telling you have lost weight. Not to mention, whenever other men are sharing sexist “locker room” jokes, he never -EVER- laughs or agrees with them. No sir! And whenever they are saying anything remotely bad about women in general, he takes it as a personal attack on you – SPECIFICALLY – and rushes to put them in their place with a whollot of how-dare-yous and #notallwomen and #notmywife hash-tagging.

April 14

Friends on the phone, talk of little else than the number of deaths, the number of confirmed cases, their cabin fever. 

Time for a little comfort-viewing. Time to escape to Stars Hollow. Time to re-watch a little Gilmore Girls. Fourth season it is. Luke can see her face. (About time too)

Gilmore Girls review here: http://www.fanitsa-petrou-blog.com/archives/1346

April 17

The weather is getting warmer and my dog’s coat longer. All the dog grooming places are of course closed, so I have no other option than do it myself with a pair of scissors… It takes me two and half hours and it is not perfect, and the whole process makes me realise I should be tipping the groomer more… Plus my dog is not thrilled. Whenever I was picking her up from the grooming place, she would run to me, and jump up and down, as if to thank me for saving her from the mean lady who was torturing her by cutting her hair… Now I was the mean lady who was torturing her by cutting her hair… Poor baby.

April 16

 Life without bread is not worth living. Which explains why all those carb-phobics, are so miserable and angry all the time. (I’m so sorry I judged you. I didn’t know what you were going through!)

April 19

“The Mermaid – La Sirène is done. I thought it would be too distracting taking a video of the whole process (which means days of it) Taking 83 photos that produced a 7 seconds slide show was no fun either…

I post it on Youtube, as well (see here). How do people get views? A mystery to me. (The fourth wall has nothing to fear…) 

Art process video here: https://youtu.be/ktocK2J9KOE
Anyone who cares to see it must imagine it with “Flightless Birds (Iron & Wine) playing in the background….

April 18

Baking now. Life makes sense all of a sudden. Is there anything more comforting than freshly baked sourdough bread with sesame seeds? That smell is like a blanket that covers me. My grandmother’s recipe. A family secret – which my mother reveals every chance she gets. 

I find myself thinking of my grandmother a lot lately. How my grandfather (who was considered by ALL to be a “good and decent man”) used to shush her on a regular basis, for no other reason than talking while being female… That’s the very thing that turned me into a feminist (at eleven), I think. She never objected. Or thought she deserved better I imagine. Much like most women of her generation (and the women of every generation that preceded hers) she resigned herself to her reality. Domesticity and marriage were her prison, and her only option. Fear and gratitude the keys that kept that cell door locked. 

I sent her a mental hug with my baking. I cry for her, as I’m grinding spices. 

“She was happy”, my mother would say if she saw me. “In a way that we are not” is what she would mean. Because we had the audacity to imagine a world that would actually allow us to be… And she didn’t have the luxury of that. So she mistook her devaluation as happiness…

April 19

Easter day. The Church announces that no one is allowed to go to Mass. “You don’t need a church to pray!” we are being told. And just like that they dismantle their two thousand year old constructions! “The Church is but a building.” they add. Wow! How New Age-y of them! After they have been trying for 1700+ years to keep people in their grasp, (and perpetually eager to pay for the exclusive privilege), assuring them that it is ONLY “within Church”and ONLY through it’s apotropaic sacraments that they can find “salvation”, now they admit it is not necessarily the case! “No need to take Holy Communion, either” they now tell us. Yeah. We know.

Thankfully, not many people object to that. Because thankfully, there are not that many religious nuts here (here, being Cyprus) That is I think, because the local Church does not allow a lot of sermon making, unlike Evangelical (and evangelical-like) Churches. Because of that, the ambition of individual priests is therefore not encouraged: priests are not there to offer their personal interpretations of the dogma or gain new disciples, (and by that become “stars” of this show in manner of evangelical manic preachers – or self-help gurus), but in order to perform the age-old rituals in the exact same way as they were being performed for hundreds of years – this is an old world after all… And on top of that, to do it in a version of a language that no one speaks any more. Which means you go there (once every decade or so) and despite making an effort initially, you can’t help but space out in five minutes tops. The smoke from the incense, the flickering light of the candles, and the endless chanting in a language that is vaguely familiar, but which you cannot fully comprehend, defeat your every time, and you find yourself making your grocery list in your head, thinking about anything other than “the nature of the Divine”. Not exactly the breeding ground of zealots, you understand… (Or atheists for that matter) Not that we don’t have them. But it takes a personal effort to become one. It takes a specific need to delve into the misogyny, and the barbaric bloodshed of the scriptures on your own time…  That is why the idea of people randomly bringing up Jesus in casual conversations, or athletes, celebrities or even politicians (or anyone!) praying PUBLICLY! is utterly shocking to us, and seen as frankly a little bit ridiculous (and Middle Age-y)…

That’s how you get rid of religiosity in fact: make worship in a dead – or barely breathing- language, and keep the showmanship out of it: stop priests from attempting to widen their congregation with fiery sermon making activities and catchy R ‘n’ B tunes! The way the Church of England is doing things (well in British TV dramas certainly) looks “safe” too: gentle and slightly apathetic gay men in cardigans, giving lukewarm sermons in which they probably don’t believe, boring psalms that makes you wish you were dead, followed by a nice tea. Yes, a good cure for religiosity.

Talking about zealots: I suddenly remember a letter that was doing the rounds on facebook about a year or two ago, that was presumably written by the monks of Mount Athos (a whole community of monasteries in northeastern Greece). It was written as a kind of warning about “tough times” that were supposedly ahead of us, and it advised that we keep six month’s worth of supplies in our pantries because access to supplies would be difficult… “Plant a herb garden and stock up on lentils” was the exact wording. (Granted, they do love their lentils… Not to mention The End of Days scenarios…) We have discarded it of course, and mentally filed it under the “more end-of-days-crap-uttered-by-religious-fanatics” folder. In retrospect, we can’t help but think: did they actually get it right this time? OMG!

April 21

The US President Donald Trump is trying to distract his people from noticing how his delayed response has caused the loss of so many lives, by playing the “lets-blame-the-immigrant-again” game, which in “the land of the free” where EVERY ONE is exactly that (an immigrant – unless they are Native Americans that is) is becoming increasingly more popular than Friday Night football: he announces on Twitter that he “will be signing an Executive Order to temporarily suspend immigration into the United States”. Typical…

April 22

Confirmed cases worldwide surpassed 2.5 million, and the head of the WHO announced that the “virus will be with us for a long time”. 

April 24

Donald Trump has taken the habit of offering daily coronavirus briefings to the press. And what a delight and constant source of hilarity they are! Among other things, he suggests that scientists should test whether disinfectants, such as bleach, could be ingested to fight the coronavirus! Yep.

Trump has managed the impossible, and we have to give him that: he managed to make every other greedy, narcissistic, inarticulate, megalomaniacal, morally bankrupt, ill-informed and intellectually challenged, misogynist politician of every other country in the world, look good by comparison. And that’s his real legacy: each time our politicians fail us (and they do!), the thought “Well at least he is not Trump”, is somehow a comforting one… And now we can also say about each one of them: Well, at least he hasn’t told us to drink bleach yet” 

April 27

Worldwide, the number of people confirmed to have been infected, rises to more than three million, with some 209,000 deaths and 885,000 recoveries. 

April 29

I decide to take a few hours off work and do something about the state of the living room bookcases. For months I have been “losing” books (which is to say, I was looking for them and couldn’t remember where I’ve put them) I take everything down and spent hours sitting on the floor sorting them out. I discover that I have 3 copies of “How to Suppress Women’s Writing”, two copies of “Henderson the Rain King” (Oh my God it’s been years since I’ve reread that one! I wonder if it’s still good. So very few things are, once revisited…), 3 copies of Jane Eyre , 2 copies of To Kill A Mocking Bird. (Which might mean these are my favourites, since I tend to return to them periodically) How it happens, is I sometimes buy them as gifts, but when I’m looking for my own copy to reread them, or check on something, I can’t find them, so I reorder them, or go to the ones I’ve bought for gifts… Five minutes in, I forget they are not “mine” and I start underlining stuff or writing in the margins, which means now I can’t gift them… And then I loose those copies too… This madness has to stop. Plus I need a system of some kind. You can’t have your Ancient Mystery Cults fraternising with your female Irish crime fiction writers (my latest obsession. Forget about Nordic Noir. These ladies have all the goods!) It takes me hours, and it is still kind of mess (to the untrained eye), but there is a system now. I think.

May 1

I go to the bank, armed with mask and gloves. When the button thing that opens the automatic door does not do that, I assume it must be for safety reasons. I guess there are many people in and they don’t want us to be crowded… I keep on pressing for 5 minutes, before I realise that today is a holiday and they are closed… (Days blend into one another is what I’m saying…) 

May 2

Public transport in the UK may require temperature checks, they say. God help all the menopausal women. They will all be considered as suspect… (Not all shvitzing is corona related…)

May 3

Journalists and politicians are now giving us news briefings from home. Men (and it’s mostly men) in progressively more unkept hairdos, are offering their versions of the new world from their living rooms, studies, basements, crawl spaces. All of them standing in front of massive bookcases, obviously trying to convince us that they have not been spending their days watching old golf tournaments (the boomers), checking Twitter and facebook while re-watching old TV shows (the generation X-ers), binge-watching Tiger King (the millennials), watching prank videos on Youtube (the generation Z-ers) or watching women being tortured and raped on Pornhub (all of them). Oh No! They are great readers! They have been spending their lockdown being immersed in James Joyce or leafing through heavy tomes on legal theory, while smoking pipes…

American Late Night hosts are even using their kids and dogs in order to keep us interested. And let’s face it, it works. Especially in the case of Jimmy Fallon, whose inability to keep a straight face (and when did he ever?) or keep himself from melting whenever his daughters are doing anything cute (like walking all over him. Figuratively AND literally!) It’s quite endearing. Even though they are all talking about the same events, and are often led inevitably to the same jokes, not all late night hosts are create equal… Seth Mayers, is still the best among the bunch. His comedy having unexpected layers and complexities untouched by the rest of them. Though, enough with the “Thornbirds” book jokes already! And what’s his hurry? Why is he reading so fast? Someone ought to remind him of the comedic power of a well timed pause. Or breathing. Jimmy Kimmel is the one you won’t go looking for, but once you happen upon him (usually because you’ve watched everyone else), you will go “OK, he is not bad”. Plus his hatred of Trump? Always entertaining! And those kiddies of his? Adorable! John Oliver?You’ve got to give it to him for his choices (his effort to show to Americans that there’s a whole world out there, alone!) but he tries a bit too hard on the funny bits, doesn’t he? And how interesting is it, that he still looks exactly like he did before the quarantine, wearing a suit and tie, sitting before a black wall, being the typical Brit, telling us in a number of ways “there’s no way I’m gonna let you in (my home or my soul) in any way, shape or form”? Trevor Noah on the other hand, who, yes, is no Jon Stewart (and then again, who is?) is pulling a Benjamin Button and seems to be ageing in reverse (unlike Seth Mayers who is ageing before our very eyes), turning into a cutie-pie / collage kid before our very eyes, what with that little beard of his, the growing micro-afro and the hoodies. (Funny how when young men wear suits and ties they look like assholes, while with older men it’s the opposite: when they wear hoodies and sneakers they look like assholes…) Stephen Golbert on the other hand, (who, yes happens to be very funny and spot on) is finally getting his chance to show us a close up of his whitey-tighties. A kind of censored dick pic I guess… How long has he been waiting for that chance I wonder? It was to be expected. He does always inject his comedy with creepy, dark, sexual references. (of the repressed variety) Plus the Catholicism. It was inevitable… Though he keeps it mostly clean while doing the show from home – namely, in the proximity of his wife… Bill Maher on the other hand, is making his show from his home as well, and he is actually adding a laugh track at the end of each punchline (wow!) and waits until the laugh subsides before he speaks again… And yes, he is still finding ways to refer to the cancelation of his “Politically Incorrect Show”. (It’ s been 18 years or so. You are doing fine! Let it go! It’s time.) 

My taste in videos BTW, tells YouTube (aka Google ads) that I’m an arthritic, male, British ex-pat, in the market for a casket, a funeral home and a will… True story!

May 4

Star wars day. Geeks everywhere unite, and yes: May the 4th be with you too…

There’s a lot of talk everywhere about the need to transform “travel behaviour” when the quarantine is over: meaning avoid taking public transportations, or cars even. It is suggested we all consider bicycles. Well, isn’t that interesting?!

Watching American Idol on Youtube. (That Jonny West kid BTW? Oh my God!) Each contestant singing from their own home… All the show now looks like a series of YouTubers doing covers from their bedroom. (Which is where global culture is heading anyway…)

Why is that we care more about Idol and the British X-factor than The Voice? Even though The Voice is the kindest show ever, and that blind audition gimmick doesn’t get old, nobody really remembers who won or when, for some reason. And nobody does make it big once they win either… Must be because contestants are being given more chances to make it. Once they leave, they can return, what with the stealing and the re-stealing and so forth: by the third or fourth time they are “saved” you just don’t give a damn anymore… But you are rooting for the kids on idol and X-factor, because they only get one chance – much like in life… You want them to make it, despite the tough competition, and the (in the case of X-factor at least) cruel words which are turning them into underdogs before your very eyes… That young guy who won last year’s X-factor? When he cried at that audition? Oh my God! I wanted to adopt him!

On a completely different note: I have finished writing two more articles on the Pandemic: One about the Upside of the quarantine: “Glass Full” and one about the Downside: “Glass Empty”

May 5

Between the 18th of March and today, I have created quite a lot of designs inspired by what we are all going through. Upon looking at them again, I notice that they seem to form a pattern not unlike the 5 stages of grief – 1. Denial, 2. Anger, 3. Bargaining, 4. Depression, 5. Acceptance) I have a feeling that they are on rotation though, and stage 1 will follow stage 5 soon enough. Realising it, might mean I’m on stage 4 again…

Some countries are slowly emerging out of the quarantine, gradually relaxing the lockdown measures. But the concern about the impact the shutdown will have on the global economy is universal. Donald Trump, is anything but worried though, who in an effort to push Americans to go back to work, has assured them (with the certainty of a rich, white dude who never did have a job, or the necessity of one): “you gonna have your job, or you’ll get another job, of you will get a better job where you make more money, frankly, and I think that’s gonna happen” (He is obviously permanently on stage 1 this one….)

Only 16 people have died here so far. 16 too many, sure, but obviously considerably less than what we feared. And it proves that testing, masks and early lockdowns – despite the hordes of joggers, DO work! (Note: see Chart recording how the coronavirus pandemic has affected 212 countries and territories around the world)

May 6

Globally, as of today there are 3,671,383 confirmed cases, and 253,216 total deaths! My bones had it all wrong… 2020 is crap. But – to borrow the line that goes around a lot these days – “hindsight is 20/20”….

In the meantime, “Murder Hornets” have invaded the US. I’m guessing the biblical locusts can’t be that far behind…


Published on May 6, 2020. The Quarantine JournalsThoughts on Social Distancing and the Coronavirus Pandemic – Part I –Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. www.fanitsa-petrou.com.

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The Crown – A Review.

A Review of the TV show “The Crown”

(Includes Spoilers)

Art & Words by Fanitsa Petrou.

In the first scene of the first episode, Olivia Colman as the Queen, is asked to inspect a stamp with her profile. 

“A great many changes. But there we are!” she says, as she compares it with the one that carries Clair Foy’s image (who played her younger self in previous seasons). It’s a clever and cheeky way of telling us: “This is the new cast. They look different. They are older. Deal with it!” 

Where would British period dramas be, without arranged marriages, cold parents, ghastly childhoods, the betrayal of true love, absurd hereditary privileges that must be defended at all costs, sex scandals, cruel boarding schools, alcoholism, repressed emotions, big draughty rooms full of heirlooms and corgis, and an abundance of stiff upper lips? Not to mention funny hats! Yet The Crown stands apart from the rest, and even though it certainly offers all of the above in generous portions, it has surprisingly given us more than what we have anticipated: you go into it expecting it to be no more than a kind of voyeuristic look at the British royals, but a couple of minutes in, you realise that this is hardly a soap (though there are definitely elements of that genre present here, just because the real life events of this family saga are so dramatic and over the top, that they might as well have been invented for the screen). This is not just a riveting drama, the most expensive TV show ever created, or one of the most beautiful ones we have ever seen, this is actually, a thoughtful piece that handles the story of a family, as well as the political landscape and the history of a specific period of a country, with seriousness, and emotional intelligence.

 Netflix, the production company behind the lavish epic, has been clear from the start on its intention to replace actors every two seasons, (which covers about two decades) and so season three (that premiered on the 17th of November 2019) introduces a new cast: Olivia Colman steps into the shoes of Clair Foy as the Queen, Tobias Menzies is replacing Matt Smith as Prince Philip, Alex Jennings passes the baton to Derek Jacobi as Duke of Windsor, Charles Dance is replacing Greg Wise as Lord Mountbatten, Helena Bonham Carter is replacing Vanessa Kirby as Princess Margaret, while Josh O’Connor is Prince Charles and Erin Doherty plays princess Ann. Only John Lithgow is allowed to briefly reprise his role as Winston Churchill in the third series. A well deserved honour for the actor who once again, gives a flawless performance (Even his wordless moaning is Emmy-worthy!)

There is something more sombre – even grim – about this season, despite the expensive budget and the amazing sets. There is a kind of shift in the palette that accurately reflects the shift in toneIt finds the Queen several decades into her incumbency – and into her marriage. This is no longer the story of young love and beginnings. This is a story about middle-aged people settling into the prescribed roles, (or in the case of Princess Margaret, being unable to do so and still struggling to cope with the same sort of challenges that were imposed on her at youth, and failing spectacularly!) This is clearly a different world, and in many respects, this “new” Queen is a different woman. Colman was given a tougher job actually, as she has a lot less to play with, than Claire Foy had, since the Queen at that age is seen by the writers as more confident and far more rigid – and more settled in her marriage as well, though interestingly not without regrets! Gone are the ambivalence and the doubt and the emotional struggles and the dilemmas. (Or mostly, gone anyway) There’s a lot less of the Woman here, and more of the Queen, the icon, the symbol. This is perhaps we are being told, what she BECAME rather than who she was at heart. The transition is complete. This Queen is certain about her place in the world and therefore this canvas is more of a monochrome, and Colman served that very well. Magnificently so, actually. (Yes, despite her “leftwing face” …)

Claire Foy’s Queen – that vibrant, dazzling, emotional, uncertain, love-struck girl of season one, and the tormented by doubts young woman of season two, was a delight to watch, but she might as well have existed only in the author’s mind. For all we know, she was nothing but a literary device used to humanise a symbol, to animate a statue. But the Queen of Season three – Colman’s Queen? We kind of know her. We’ve “met” her before. She is the Queen of staged royal wedding photos and oil paintings. The Queen of Xmas messages, of rehearsed, generic, well-timed chitchats with celebrities. She is the headscarf-wearing Queen of blurry Hello! magazine photos who is surrounded by dogs and horses and land rovers. She is the Queen on British stamps and bank notes. She is the Queen who is walking with her hands behind her back, inspecting soldiers in funny hats. Aloof, and distant, and a little bit banal. You can easily imagine “Colman’s” Queen cutting ribbons and Christening ships, playing the well-rehearsed role with cold efficiency and a seemingly complete lack of inner turmoil. Following well choreographed steps, exchanging polite and cold pleasantries with local dignitaries she secretly despises for the usual reasons of having the ‘wrong” accent (which is to say, for having the audacity of not being born into her world) or at the very least, for claiming her time – and pieces of her – in the process. But you know, still doing her duty. Still smiling. Still playing the role that was assigned to her. No longer being tormented by doubts whether or not she should.

No wonder so many viewers “prefer” the Claire Foy Queen (if social media comments are anything to go by…) It’s not that Olivia Colman has done an inferior job as an actor, it’s because she has done such a spectacular one. It’s because she was so good at capturing that stoic, emotionally repressed energy, that unbending confidence, that sense of duty that crushes your humanity. That is why “Foy’s” Queen is more loved (or why Diana was more loved than all the royals put together) It’s because we all instinctually gravitate away from coldness, apathy, detachment, and towards anyone who exhibits a capacity for feeling empathy and doubt and turmoil and an understanding of human frailty. 

Seasons one and two, allowed us to (hypothetically at least,) peek not just behind the hermitically closed doors of the Buckingham Palace, but also behind the royal façade and get a glimpse of the woman. She was not an icon in that ones. She was a real, breathing, human being. A woman who was kind of naïve and open. Who would keep a diary, and would get on her knees and pray each night like a little girl. Who would believe the words of a mass Evangelist and of someone like Jackie Kennedy… A young woman who was seriously smitten with her husband, who would wear strapless evening gowns, and who was fragile and vulnerable, and burdened by the weight of duty, trying to make sense of her world. Trying to cope with her insecurities about her lack of education; with the loss of a beloved father; with men in suits who respected the establishment that put her on that position but who were still telling her what she was about; with a husband who was a handful, and had a wandering eye, and an ego that constantly needed to be soothed; with a job she never wanted; with a sister who loved and envied her, and whom she loved and envied herself and so on. But in season three we meet her at a point in which her internal conflicts are now well buried beneath the (now made of granite) surface, and all that suggests that they still exist, are scattered moments in which she allows a hint of dismay to pass her eyes, a hint of frustration that is so subtle, so expertly concealed (or rather barely visible) by Colman, that you can easily miss it. It is only when she allows that self that is hidden beneath the surface of her resentful surrender to duty that we get to see a glimpse of the human woman. Such moments are rare, and brief, and yet they provide Colman with the opportunity to show what volumes they betray! (And the type of actor she is!) What can be done with nuance, unspoken words and a single glance. 

The Queen she creates, is one that’s carved in stone, looking older – sure – but also, somehow, much like the real Queen, ageless, or rather beyond age. That’s the thing that ages us all, after all. Not time, not even misfortunes, disappointment, losses, obstacles that come in our way, but how much we feel! (Doctors have it wrong: it’s not what we eat. It’s what we FEEL, how much we give, that will do us in, in the end! How we allow our self to embrace wholeheartedly what we love, and be crashed by what we loose. Not to mention how ready we are to allow life to teach us harsh lessons. In short, how we allow ourself to change, as our life changes) 

“The rest of us drop like flies,” her sister Margaret tells her in the last episode of the season, but she goes on and on”.  Nothing can move her to the point of changing her, is what we are being told. And we have been warned by the creator of the series that this is what season 3 would be all about: in the closing minutes of season two, there is this scene in which the entire family is posing for a photo after the christening of the royal couple’s fourth child. Everyone is talking, moving, laughing, arguing, but she stays in her place, sitting still in the middle of them all, looking at the camera (always aware that someone is watching). Already turned into a statue! 

That’s the point of her. That’s how she has endured. That’s how she is still around – and still looking like she did pretty much, decades ago… Because she stood still at the centre of tornadoes, at the centre of a changing world, while it was spinning around her, evolving, being crashed and reinvented in turns. She remained seemingly unmoved by it all, and therefore untouched by it too. Secure. The longest-reigning monarch in history, but more than that: stuck in time. The personification of an anachronism, as much as an example of steadfastness and loyalty! And there’s something cold even cruel in that, sure, but there is a beauty in it too. This is what I feel prompts Peter Morgan (the writer/creator of The Crown) to visit the theme of her, so often. First with his movie “The Queen” (2006), in which he examined her reaction to the news of Princess Diana’s death, then with the play “The Audience” (2016), that centres around her weekly meetings with her various prime ministers, and now with this magnificent epic. His work is both an exposé of sorts, about the dark, cold, heartless side of the royal family, but it is at its heart, also, a love letter to HER. And we follow in his steps: we are both outraged at the absurdity, the pointlessness and the coldness of that privileged world, and at the same time, we are shamelessly fascinated by it. And much like him (or through him), we too are searching (hoping!) for the human faces behind the statues. We too, are looking for the cracks on those masks waiting for them to slip and crumble and reveal a softness, a warmth, a fragility hiding underneath.  That is why we keep coming for more…

Helena Bonham Carter, paints a colourful picture as the younger sister of an icon. Ambitious, jealous, charismatic, manic, funny, venomous, glamorous, self-destructive, deeply unhappy, and deeply embittered that she is still in the shadows, and that her marriage is such a trainwreck, (and one imagines, that middle age offers its cruel lessons at a point when she is so vulnerable). She predictably goes for the usual remedies and attempts of escape: alcohol, pills, exotic beaches, a young man’s body, and eventually, a suicide attempt that devastates her sister, (offering Colman a rare chance to exhibit emotion)

Margaret does get a moment to shine, before she reaches her nadir point though, when (in the episode “Margaretology”) she represents her sister at a state visit to the US, and ends up securing a bail out from the Americans by charming the Anglophobic president Lyndon B Johnson. She wins him over by bad mouthing Kennedy (to her sister’s horror), and goes on to save the deteriorating economy of her country with a little bit of singing, a little bit of dancing and by reciting dirty limericks to him at an official party. Not to mention kissing him on the mouth… That limericks business (and the kiss) never took place according to the royal biographer Hugo Vickers who has written an entire book on the – according to him – many inaccuracies of The crown) though it seems unlikely that the writer of The Crown would have come up with something so specific if it never happened in reality. Not to mention it is a “talent” that might have run in the family: in the King’s Speech (which is – let’s face it –  “The Crown, season 0”) her father uses similar sexist dirty limericks in order to overcome his stutter… She must have picked it up from him. In any case, when she returns victorious to England, she asks that she is given more such duties only to be silenced by her sister who sternly reminds her that there’s more to her role than parties… It is interesting that the Queen’s sister, her husband, and later her son, are all searching for roles in a world that offers them none other than being her supporting cast. And none of them can stomach it gracefully. Or accept it without a fight.

Despite her being her usual, spectacular, sparkly self, as the messy Princess Margaret, giving us the vulnerability, the flair, the loneliness, the pain of the Queen’s sister, Helena Bonham Carter has  (behind the Brit-eccentric’ s façade) a warmth, a softer side that is unmistakably hers, which is present in every role she plays, and which is somehow unconvincing when she plays heroines that have a cold, hard edge as well. When she, for example, dismisses with a wave of her hand and a cold “None of that”  the native kids who were waiting God knows for how long for her plane to arrive to the island of her vacations in order to greet her, you can almost hear her saying in her head “I’m sorry! I’m so SOOO sorry!! I didn’t mean it.” Colman has a bit of that too: her real life compassionate, hilarious persona and “jolly” nature, occasionally slip in, adding the tiniest – and welcome – touch of humour into otherwise sombre scenes. (I do hope she wins every award that’s out there, not only because she deserves it, but also because her acceptance speeches are just adorable, not to mention hilarious)

Charles Dance is criminally underused as Lord Mountbatten, but still manages to give texture and nuance to – yet another – upper class cold fish; while Josh O’Connor is a revelation as Prince Charles. (Who knew that young Larry from “The Durrells” had that in him?) He manages to paint a sympathetic picture of Prince Charles, and portrays with empathy his vulnerability, his broken heart, his loneliness, and his desire to rebel against the family as well as his overwhelming desire to be a part of it. His own description of his place in the world is quite revealing: “It’s not so much an existence but a predicament. I am both free and imprisoned. Utterly superfluous and quite indispensable.” In two episodes seen from his own the point of view, we get to see the “predicament” to which he refers: the first deals with his investiture as a prince of Wales -which takes place in Wales, a place that is – understandably – both alien to him, and hostile towards him- and the second is centred around his relationship with Camilla Shand – soon to become Camilla Parker Bowles after the family conspires to make it happen, and thus repeating a mistake that proved to have been tragic for princess Margaret. We see his love for Camilla, as well as his need to prove himself to a mother who finds it hard to see him as her true heir. When – in one of the most heartbreaking scenes of the season – he tells her in desperation: “Mummy, I have a voice!” she replies chillingly: “Let me let you into a secret. No one wants to hear it.”  “Are you talking about the country, or my own family?” he asks grasping onto the hope that it is at least the former. Her answer (“No one!”) leaves little room for that. 

Tobias Menzies, much like Olivia Colman, has a less colourful palette with which to paint his character than the one his predecessor had. Matt Smith who played the younger Philip in seasons one and two, was given the opportunity to flex his thespian muscles to spectacular effect, as he was given so much to play with: a revisiting of his tough childhood (his abandonment by a cruel father and a mad mother, the loss of half of his family in a plane crash, the Nazi relatives, the surviving of that Spartan-like school he was forced to attend), then having globetrotting naval adventures, being involved in sex scandals and extramarital affairs with Russian ballerinas and exotic island girls, and of course the ever present realisation that he is destined to always and for ever, play second fiddle to his wife. Tobias Menzies still does a great job at chaneling an older Prince Philip (the body language, the turn of the head, the arrogant, almost absentminded “I-can’t-be-bothered stare), yet, the best he has to work with, is briefly being reunited with his mother (an excellent Jane Lapotaire) and having a kind of religious awakening, triggered by the Moon Landing, which is no more than a mid life crisis of course, and a revisiting of those old feelings of negated machismo, despondency, and ennui.

The Queen also has a version of that (a glimpse that is, of the untaken path), when on an equestrian-related trip to America with the friend of her youth Porchy, (who, as we know from previous seasons used to be in love with her) she admits, in a rare, (and therefore quite significant) moment of sincerity, that this is what she would have liked to do in life (breed horses) if only she was free to choose and – shockingly – this is the company she would have liked to keep as well! And we get that! It’s actually heartbreaking to see the story of her marriage unfold (especially in previous seasons) and it makes perfect sense that at this point in her life she would have some regrets. Much like most of the long (and celebrated-for-nothing-but-their-longevity) marriages of everyday women, hers was based on her tolerance more than on anything else. Hurt and crashed as she was by her husband’s cheating, she was still willing to bite the bullet and stay in the marriage, one feels not simply because no other alternatives were available to her, divorce being such an anathema in her world, but because she – like many women of her generation – truly believed that 1) she didn’t deserve him, 2) men “would be men” and 3) “turning a blind eye, is the best approach” as she says somewhere. Even without his cheating, her husband was it seems, a constant concern, a problem she was forced to face again and again. Despite being the most powerful woman in the world, she still had to endure his condescending, sexist and degrading remarks, she still had to make herself smaller, so that his own, shattered by her power ego would not be threatened. She still had to appease him, placate him, make excuses for him, and invent jobs for him, so that he would feel included, useful, and as terribly important as he obviously believed he was… (It was a sexist world, but then again so is ours: Claire Foy was actually being paid less than Matt Smith in the first series, even though she was the protagonist of the piece! The irrational gender gap was later covered, but the fact remains that it was initially considered OK!)

Episode three, is perhaps the one that hammers the message of “who she’s become” the most. It recounts a horrifying disaster that took place in 1966, and claimed the lives of 144 people (116 of which were children) in the Welsh mining town of Aberfan. The Queen’s delayed response (that brings to mind her delayed response to the news of princess Diana’s death years later,) is the focus of the episode. Her decision to stay at the palace instead of fly to Aberfan in order to comfort the townsfolk, is justified by her as a wish to stay out of the way of the rescue operations. When she is practically forced to go there, (eight days too late), she appears to be unable to have genuine, human responses when she hears the devastated parents talking about their now dead kids (one can’t help but imagine what the aforementioned Diana would have said and done upon hearing those grieving parents! She would have probably hugged them and cried with them, instead of offer no more than a cold handshake and a minute of her time) The Queen is saved by her secretary who whispers in her ear: “This is Wales, not England. A display of emotion would not just be considered appropriate, it’s expected,” We then see her patting her eyes with her white handkerchief – to prove that she is, indeed human. Later, in one of the most intimate and moving moments of the whole series, she confesses to Prime Minister Wilson that she had to fake her crying! She goes on to admit that she is unable to cry or be moved by emotions like other people. As much as it is a compelling moment that gives Colman a rare opportunity to show us what she can do with a single pause and unsaid words, it is a strange choice in terms of writing. It may be an appropriate response coming from the mouth of this middle aged, detatched Queen, but it somehow negates season one and two, in which we saw her exhibit an abundance of emotions. Saying “I can’t cry any more”, rather than “I can never cry” would have made more sense… It’s not that she was unfeeling, it was that she had to become that in the process, we were told, after all…

The episodic nature of The Crown, especially in this season, allows it to visit specific events of British history, or to focus on different members of the royal family. Princess Margaret gets two standalone episodes for example, as do prince Charles and Prince Philip. This is a departure from the more Queen-centric nature of seasons one and two, but it weaves a richer tapestry as it broadens the show’s scope. Since this season ends when prince Charles loses Camilla, it is safe to assume that season four will be centred around the Diana-Charles marriage, and of course, the Thatcher years, and possibly Lord Mountbatten’s murder by the IRA. But will it dare to at least hint on the later’s alleged pederasty and his affiliations with the person who was involved in the Kincora Boy’s Home in Ireland, that provided child victims to pederast aristocrats? In any case, the recent “Andrew scandal” and his own affiliations with a convicted child abuser, are drawing some shady parallels. All of that, and possibly the tax evasion 2017 scandal that involved the royal family including the Queen (see: “The Paradise Papers”) are ensuring that seasons five and six will also have a lot to deal with as well…

Chronologically speaking, the third season of The Crown covers the period from 1964-1977. The bailout by the Americans, the discovering of a KGB spy who was larking in the palace (providing an opportunity for further associations between “the face” and “the mask” that hides it, which is in many ways the central theme of the series), the Moon landing, the Aberfan tragedy, the miner’s strikes and the resulting power cuts, Churchill’s and the Duke of Windsor ‘s deaths, a putative coup that was orchestrated by a member of the royal family, yet it leaves out some pretty noteworthy political events (not to mention Princess Ann’s wedding and her kidnaping) For a show that has been heavily shaded by politics, the fact that season three fails to even mention Northern Ireland, and the events of the “Bloody Sunday” (1972) for example, does not go unnoticed. Is the omission of such a significant event, simply a reluctance to touch a thorny subject, or is it hinting on the royal family’s complete alienation from their people, hinting they are simply unaffected by the fact that the British army had actually opened fire on civilians? The same can be said of seasons two and three of course, that chronologically coincided with the first stages of decolonisation, something that was largely overlooked. The freedom fighters from different parts of the Empire, were seen as “bloody natives” stirring up trouble, instead of oppressed people fighting for autonomy and democracy. 

The British Empire may have lost its colonies, but the impact, the grave repercussions of colonialism, are lasting, and have branded the history of so many countries and the personal lives of so many generations of people from around the world, even though we hardly get to hear their voices any more. Which makes it almost shocking when we rarely do: a couple of days ago, the award-winning poet George Mpanga has revealed he turned down an MBE (the honour of being a “Member of the Order of the British Empire”) because “the colonial trauma inflicted on the children of Africa, entrenched across our geopolitical and macroeconomic realities prevents me from accepting the title Member of the British Empire. It will remain unacceptable to me until Britain takes institutional measures to address inter-generational disruption brought to millions as a result of her colonial exploits.” 

He shouldn’t be holding his beath… The British people’s noble fight against fascism in WWII, may have branded their history, but similar notions about independence were not seen as a right the Empire’s subjects were allow to have after all. In the first season for example, when the young (then princess) Elisabeth visits Nairobi, in her speech to the white colonialists, she tells us (with no sense of irony, or obviously, self-awareness) that Nairobi used to be full of Africans and wild animals, but now thankfully it is not…(!) Similary, Churchill’s policy of sending troops to any region that dared to rebel against the British rule, (like in the case of the Mau Mau Rebellion in Kenya for example. Or Cyprus for that matter) is not mentioned in season one. A TV series is understandably not a documentary. Not everything can be included in every episode, that’s not the point of it. Specific artistic choices are being made for the sake of smooth plot lines and good story telling, but if these events  (and sadly, countless similar ones) were to be mentioned, it might have added something quite meaningful to the picture Peter Morgan paints in the third season, in which we begin to see the gradual corrosion of the Queen’s heart (if not of her humanity)! This is what she was called to protect after all! This is what she was called to reign over. Not merely her people, but half the world!(Whether they liked it or not.) And it had to be done with an iron fist and hard, cruel decisions (which she may did not have to make, but which she still endorsed). Hers was in reality, a bloody throne. The traditions, the crown, she was trying so hard to safeguard, could only be protected with the continuation of a class system that perpetuated the privileges of the few – in her own country, but also, across three continents! And it could only be done with bloodshedding: with the signed by her hand death penalties of freedom fighters, the merciless crushing of rebellions, and the evil policy of “divide and conquer” that has left countless wounds (which are still bleeding, decades later) in so many places. (Or in the case of Wales, the sinking of entire villages, which had to be sacrificed for the good of England – an event that at least gets to be mentioned) That’s how she got to become the Queen we see in season three! The establishment’s inability to – even today – face realities in its own country, the suffering of its own people (like for example an actual rise in infant mortality in modern-day England that is linked to poverty! ) let alone in other countries which were affected by colonialism, and it’s inability to offer actual, practical – instead of just symbolic – help to those in need, is a subject that was only briefly touched by the show: when the Queen’s mother-in-law was in need of 200 pounds to repair the roof of her convent and 300 pounds for medicine and beds for sick children, all that could be done by the family was to write letters to benefactors asking for money ! When it is suggested by her mother-in-law that a painting or a clock could perhaps be sold to get money for this cause, (“You have so many clocks everywhere! You wouldn’t miss one or two surely!” she states the obvious) the Queen’s cold reply (or lack of) puts the matters nicely into place…

These are the things, which we assume, have stolen away from her that vibrant, emotional, vulnerable quality that (according to the writers at least) actually existed in her youth, and which was so greatly portrayed by Claire Foy is seasons one and two. That is why this Queen is a different woman. An automaton almost, unable to cry when faced with heart wrenching tragedies involving dead children, and equally, unable to say a kind word to her own son, who even a blind man can see, that’s all he needs in order to become his own best self. 

This Queen who stands in the shadows of huge rooms, with her back to the camera, is no longer “Lillibet”. She is a different beast all together. She understands that her destiny, her role, carries the weight of a heavy (and tainted) history, which she still needs to gloss over (with pageantry and teas), to ensure its continuation. “Gestures is all we have,” she says somewhere. “Doing nothing is exactly what we do. And bide our time”. That’s what she is there for! The fact that she knows it (at least this imagined version of hers, does) is actually heartbreaking! Politicians, prime ministers, can at least distant themselves from events that were unrelated to the years they were in power, but we suspect she has no such moral luxuries. She is not a ruler after all, but a symbol, and she therefore carries to the present that which had to be done in the past, in order to ensure her own place in it, in the future. Maybe what Peter Morgan is trying to say with this “new” Queen of his, is that the only way such a thing can be achieved, is by allowing the loss of part of yourself in the process… 


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The problem of Misogyny in GAME OF THRONES – part II

Art & Words, by Fanitsa Petrou

“… They are nothing more than props. Interchangeable, nameless, faceless orifices that men enter at their convenience, because they’ve paid the price – in coins not connection. They are décor. Part of the scenery. As important to them, as the cup that holds their wine. Their worth valued only as a constant reminder of their own male authority. Their abasement, being the way with which their masculinity is perpetually stroked and their one-sided orgasms assured…”

When asked by The New York Times to comment on the reasons why his series of books A Song of Ice and Fire” (upon which “The Game of Thrones” was based) is so heavily shaded with sexually violent plotlines, George R. R. Martin, argued that “rape and sexual violence have been a part of every war ever fought, from the ancient Sumerians to our present day”. He went on to say that omitting to refer to such things “would have been fundamentally false and dishonest.”

Even though he is of course right, we can’t help but add that there are better ways of doing that. Like exploring the lasting repercussions rape has on a woman’s life for instance, rather than presenting it as a casual affair, or using it as a plot device to showcase a man’s authority, or worst, fetishising it. (And while we are at it, trivialising, normalising, even romanticizing incest as well!) This is not about historical accuracy! This is about men who enjoy fantasizing about this stuff, writing this stuff, directing this stuff, or producing this stuff a little too much, and who are also well aware of the commercial appeal this stuff has as well… This is about sexploitation. This is about eroticizing and normalising brutal violence against women, because for many men out there it feels “right”, it is a source of actual pleasure and they just wish they lived in a world that still allows it (or allows it more)! And that’s the bottom line! If the author of the books (and the many authors of the TV series) were so keen on NOT being“fundamentally false and dishonest” about the realities of rape, they would have considered mentioning in some way or other that  two thirds of women who are raped suffer serious mental or emotional problems as a result, while most of them can’t trust people in all their future relationships, or that one in ten attempts suicide, and so on…


As arguments go, the “historical accuracy” one, is a suspect one for another reason. This is hardly a documentary! This is a TV show (and a series of books) that is above all else, firmly rooted in the fantasy genre! This is a show that gave us fire spiting dragons, and ice zombies and fairies, and time travelling, three-eyed prophets, and giants, and message-carrying crows that fly on demand around the world faster than FedEx, and a woman who cannot be burned, and has dragons for babies, not to mention a witch who is as old as time, and who is giving birth to demons and resurrecting the dead… This is in short, a story that is not exactly reality based! When you strive for “historical accuracy” ONLY when it comes to the devaluation of women, then there’s something else going on. Then this is about misogyny and not realism. This is about PERPETUATING prejudice and violence against women, rather than merely recording it… And this is about soliciting pleasure from their pain too, rather than condemning it!

What adds the “adult” angle to this story, is NOT the plotline, but the violence and the objectification of women. The funny thing is, GoT has the makings of a very good YA story that plot-wise at least, falls in the same category as The Chronicles of Narnia, His Dark Materials, Lord of the Ring, Harry Potter, or the darker “I shall Wear Midnight” Don’t you wish you could watch this with your kid? That there was a “clean” version of it available? One you can enjoy without feeling angry as hell, sick to your stomach or having to watch from behind your fingers? This is one pretty well crafted saga about loyalty and courage and family honour, and dragons and giants and magic after all…. If only it was not also about torture and incest, and brutal murders and men buying and selling and humiliating and raping women…. 

Back when HBO was planing to adapt for TV George R.R. Martin’s fantasy books, was there I wonder, at least one executive  / writer / director / producer among the bunch, who actually said in that pitch meeting something like: “OK I have an idea about this that you may find a bit shocking, but hear me out. What if we created this thing WITHOUT the gratuitous violence? And what if we toned down the misogyny and we said NO! to the rapes? What if we did not glamorize the selling and buying of women as well?  I know! I know! It’s too much. It’s practically revolutionary, but what if we did it? What if we dared to be trailblazers? What if we made this show about dragons and witches and ice zombies actually be suitable for kids and teens?  And (OK, hear me out before you start throwing your i-phones at me), what if we actually considered feminists as an audience (they do love a good revenge story after all!) and actually gave them something that won’t make them feel sick, disgusted, appalled, depressed, and very, very angry? Or cause women to feel like they are worthless pieces of shit? And what if we came up with actual plotlines about the female characters of the show that were not centered around their rapes?” But I guess nobody dared to go there…

In GoT, rape is after all, habitually used as a plot-device for female characters, because apparently the fertile minds of the creators of this show could not come up with anything more complex, more innovating, less degrading or less obvious when dealing with the female cast. Rape is also used to advance the storyline of male characters, to showcase their power and / or indicate their depravity. Women in GoT (even queens) are also habitually being given like goods, or sold to strangers by brothers or fathers. Likewise, we are reminded in every episode by one male character or another that women are insignificant. Either property to be passed on from one man to the next without even asking them, (for all the old fashioned reasons: in order to secure alliances, to unite houses, or in order to tame a woman’s ambition), or else as spoils of war to be taken by invading soldiers who measure their victory by how many of them they will get to violate. Sure, it has been happening in real life for thousands of years, but the reason why it is replicated in modern-day fiction and pop culture, is not for reasons of historical accuracy! It’s because there’s obviously a nostalgia about the time it was still universally allowed! 

The excessive sexual violence depicted in GoT, is – let us be honest – mostly about men who love writing / directing this stuff, and being in an environment that gives them licence (and the authority) to boss around naked female actresses, and giving male actors directions on how exactly to abuse them, while they are filming them. Calling it Art. Many female actors empowered by the #MeToo movement have come forward and revealed the indignities they suffer by directors – which are reenacted via proxy, by male actors – some examples here:1* *2, *3, *4, *5, *6 7* 8*9*). Female actors are not merely asked to inhabit a role, but also to play out the fantasies of male writers, directors, producers and viewers. It’s THAT simple, THAT basic actually. The reason why we get to see most sex scenes in movies… Jason Momoa (the actor, who played Khal Drogo on GoT) was at least honest about the whole thing. His comments from 2011, put things nicely into perspective. “… as far as sci-fi and fantasy, I love that genre because there are so many things you can do, like rip someone’s tongue out of their throat and get away with it and rape beautiful women,” (see 6*) This is what it’s all about. It is about men doing what they are well aware they ought not to be doing, and “getting away with it”. And in the end, it’s also about the men who are watching them on screen, and identifying with them, fantasying they are doing the same to women they daily meet! 

This is not about prudery! Not all depictions of sexual violence are questionable or unnecessary – though lets face it, most ARE! You see, context matters! Intention matters! Choices matter! The way things are being said, as well as WHY they are being said, matter! Hulu’s The Handmaid’s Tale” (read my review here *) for example, is an equally terrifying show (especially if you are a woman!). It too presents a fantasy world that is deeply misogynistic, in which women are dehumanized and sexual violence against them is commonplace and allowed – in fact legal and sanctioned by the government of a (barely) fictional United States. Graphic depictions of violence against women, are still present and equally (if not more) disturbing, but it makes the world of difference that are used as a way of condemning it, NOT glorifying it, or use it as a way of celebrating male “supremacy”! They are meant to showcase how the dehumanization of women by men is actually a bad thing! The Handmaid’s Tale as much as it is heart-wrenching to watch, acts as a warning about things to come if humanity allows itself to regress into Medieval-like attitudes towards women (like the ones portrayed in The Game of Thrones) And more importantly, it focuses on the ramifications of rape in the victims’ s lives as well society at large, rather than use it as bait to keep male viewers interested and to groom women viewers to be complicit in their own real-life abuses.

As much as GοT boasts to be a sexually liberated show that has no hang ups when it comes to sex or inhibited depictions of, it is actually almost comically juvenile in its approach: this is not an adult’ s layered world of anticipation, longing, sensuality, vulnerability, intimacy, connection or even regret. This is sex as imagined by a pubescent boy with a one-truck mind and absolutely no idea about the real thing… (let alone women’ s needs or actual natures!): this is a black and white world of naked women and brothels. A world populated by happy, eager prostitutes (instead of, you know, broken, damaged, depressed, addicted to substances so that they can endure their lot, ones), who insist on pleasing every stranger they meet! Often without payment… This is a world in which women are flashing men just because they asked them to, or give sex lessons to each other. A world in which a pimp is teaching prostitutes how to simulate lesbian sex. And also, a world in which the relationship between brothers and sisters is sexualised in some form or other (see Daenerys and her brother, Theon and his sister) or brothers and sisters are having sex (see Cersie and Jamie). A world in which women insist on breast-feeding ten year old boys, a world in which women walk around fully naked (aka ready and sexually available in case they are needed), while fully clothed men are discussing politics and war and business, and whenever they meet an old guy, declaring (with no sense of irony!) that they are “Partial to older gentlemen”… (Talk about a Fantasy genre!) A show in which women get naked not just in sex scenes, but for a multitude of totally random reasons: when they are having an empowering moment, or when they are killing their enemies (see: Daenerys), or when they are being the victim of religious fanatics (see: Cersei), or when they are showing indignation (see: Brienne), or simply when in the company of powerful men… (see: the entire cast of female extras. And they must be hundreds of them. How many young, out of work actresses have added “Naked whore, partaking in Game of Thrones brothel orgy” to their resumes, I wonder?)

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This is in short, a young boy’s (or an adult’s who has remained a boy) daydream of an “ideal” world, in which access to swords and naked women (both of which are of course seen as objects) is inexhaustible… In which women have no power or even desire to say NO to alpha males, and their humiliation and abuse when it happens (and it happens a LOT!) is both expected, and it remains unpunished. For people who are so good at spinning a pretty complex yarn when it comes to politics or war, the writers responsible for the series have an approach, that is in short, pretty simplistic in its depictions of sexual relations.

Even the constant references to castrations are part of the same kind of juvenile approach to sexuality, gender roles and manhood in particular. GOT is a seriously phallocentric world after all. At the end of the day, it’s basically a story about alpha males and their penises: their need to conquer, intimidate, control (find things to which they can stick them so to speak) is celebrated and glorified in every plotline, and every scene. Even when they are faced with challenges, they are – compared to women –  all powerful, the rulers of that which they desire. Their only real fear, the only thing that makes them feel threaten, is the loss of their masculinity – which they imagine as actual castration! 

Unlike men, women get acquainted with pain, with danger, with fear, from and early age. Not just because their body monthly changes and because they are the creators of life, but also, because they live in the same world as men, who habitually use violence (or at the very least, the threat of it) against them. Men have trouble understanding about pain, self-sacrifice, or the need to empathize with others, not only because they are not forced by their biology to know such things, but also, because they are not required to, by our culture. That is why most of them remain unaware of what real vulnerability means. That is why men’s sense of loss, sense of fear, sense of danger, is (in Art or real life) invented. That is why they seek pain (and by that validation of their maleness) in fist fights, violent competitions, competitive physical activities, extreme sports, gun use, “heroic” adventures, or war. They go looking for danger, close calls, hostile collisions, brushes with their mortality. Their experience of danger is more often than not, a choice, while ours is a constant and inescapable condition that is forced upon us, just because we are living in the same world as them. 

Men’s relationship with their body is centred around pleasure after all, not pain, not fear, not shame, not vulnerability, not a sense of loss or inadequacy, (whether they are tall or short, thin or fat, young or old, geniuses or inarticulate half wits, they always feel they are “enough” don’t they?! And they always believe they deserve to have the prettiest and youngest girl in any room…) so when they attempt to picture the worst that can happen to them, they just picture the loss of pleasure! Women can imagine countless horrific things that can happen to them – which is to say that men can do to them – and the loss of sexual pleasure does not even make their list, but given that men are safe from similar horrors, when they try to think about something horrible, they come up with impotency, or even the actual loss of their penis! It’s kind of comical actually! That is why there are so many eunuchs in GoT (Varys of course, then Theon, Tyrion also has some close calls, but also the “unsullied” – an entire army of them!) because they are the manifestations of the worse nightmare scenario of alpha males! A metaphor of that, is also seen in the characters of Tyrion and Bran. The first is repeatedly being called “half-man”, because he is a dwarf, and the second is being called “Broken”because he is a cripple: he is a prophet who Time-travels between worlds but when he is crowned king of Westeros he is not called “Bran the Prophet”, or “Bran the Third-Eyed Raven” or similar, but “Bran the Broken”! His bodily disability being the thing that defines him, NOT his extraordinary abilities!

Interestingly enough, a woman’s nature cannot ever be taken away from her. And it is not debatable, it is not a matter of interpretation, it cannot be undone (Or in its essence really be adopted. Only masqueraded.) In a world that defines women merely by their body parts, how interesting is it, that the essence of what they are, is so complex, and inimitable and so much more than merely that?! A woman is still a woman if she has gone through hysterectomy, through mastectomy, clitoridectomy, or if she has not given birth, but a man’s masculinity is obviously a pretty fragile thing (literally as well as metaphorically). Men’s sexual organs (and mysteries…) are overt and uncomplicated. Men do not centre their sense of self around who, what they are (not really), but literally on their equipment. A knife can then un-man them, take away from them that which defines them. Diminish them, turn them into lesser beings (which is to say, feminize them) A notion that implies not only what they really think of women (aka as penis-less, and therefore lesser creatures), but also of themselves as well: there’s nothing much else to them, other than their penis… Minus that, they become that which they loath: women! That is why in this particular Man’s World, there are so many eunuchs, and so many, MANY references and jokes about castration. 

The eunuchs in GoT also serve – on a subconscious level – as a metaphor for men’s worst archetypal fear. Their worst imaginable “what if?”: what if they lose the ability to feel pleasure obviously, but also: what if they lose the ability to enter things and by that, conquer, possess and control them? Which means castration is also in symbolic terms, perceived by men to be the result of accepting the reality of female emancipation: a world in which women are set free from financial, political, social dependancy on men, is a nightmarish one, in which women are no longer weak and so perpetually sexually available to all men, and therefore not conquered, possessed and controlled by them on demand. A woman freed from the restrictions imposed to her by Patriarchy, is a woman who is free to choose a mate based on her OWN emotional, sexual, spiritual needs, rather than financial / social ones. She is not just passively chosen by a man, and forced to succumb passively to his authority due to her socioeconomic / political powerlessness. (And where would that, leave most men?) She is in short, a most dangerous creature, who is automatically perceived by such men as their “castrator”! GoT is after all, a world obsessed with the powerlessness of women and fearful of their power. No wonder all the powerful women had to be cut down to size in the end: the ferocious Catelyn early on, Cersei, Daenerys, Melisanthe, were all too ambitious, too powerful for their own good, so needless to say, they had to die in the end; likewise, Brienne, had to loose her power by a male (be humiliated and betrayed), and Arya had to symbolically leave this particular world of men entirely… She was after all getting too strong, too unbeatable by the whole lot of them – because she was a skilled assassin, but also because she needs no man to validate her worth by making her his wife. What could she do in that world anyway, since she was a woman who could not be used by men? She could neither be raped or forced into submission in marriage, or eventually be killed. She of course had to leave! Only Sansa remained in place. Only she, was rewarded in the end. But then again she was always passive, weak, and eager to marry even the worst of psychos, (even when escape roots were given to her) because she wanted to be a “lady”, did’t she? So it makes perfect sense… She belonged in that world because she accepted its rules.

Similarly, all those prostitutes in the countless Game of Thrones brothels, are there to underline a man’s power. Women are after all the ultimate subordinate class in GOT (or real life). No eunuch, no “unsullied”, no servant, no peasant, no prisoner of war, no slave is ever lower than each and every one of them. Even the queens! And men love being reminded of that. (And reminding all of us of it, too – in real life or in their artistic creations. (Makes them feel more men obviously. Their power being defined by nothing more than our own physical powerlessness…) All those young girls who were required in every episode of all eight seasons to jump eagerly atop any man, as well as all those who parade fully naked in the company of fully clothed men who are discussing politics and strategies and war, are less than human to their eyes. (And by association, to the eyes of the viewer as well. That’s the whole damn point!) By being naked, they retain their vulnerability, and by that, they constantly (and reassuringly for men) exhibit their lack of power. They are nothing more than props. Interchangeable, nameless, faceless orifices that men enter at their convenience, because they’ve paid the price – in coins not connection. They are décor. Part of the scenery. As important to them, as the cup that holds their wine. Their worth valued only as a constant reminder of their own male authority. Their abasement, being the way with which their masculinity is perpetually stroked and their one-sided orgasms assured. 

That is why men – in real life, or in hypothetical worlds – are fascinated by prostitutes and porn stars. Because their desperation, their powerlessness, their lack of options, and because of all of that, their lack of self-worth, are key components in the fulfillment of male fantasies. Because they can’t afford, or are allowed to say “NO!” To anything! That’s the whole allure of them. They are not seen as human. There’s no need for connection, reciprocity, compassion, pity, or empathy when they are dealing with them. Money exchanging hands takes care of that. Incidentally, it comes as no surprise that real life brothels see GoT as very beneficial for their business. In the words of a real life madam who runs a brothel in Nevada: “I would definitely say that ‘Game of Thrones’ has had a considerable and positive impact on Nevada’s legal sex work industry through the shows enticing and salacious showcasing of prostitution. In fact, it’s like a free ad”,she says. Got has that to be proud of then, in terms of leaving a cultural mark on the world: mainstreaming the buying and selling of human beings! 

The rape problem in Got is actually so perversive that there are people who have done statistical analyses of the phenomenon, who have kept the tally of televised female pain and humiliation, if you like. One example – which however was done in 2015, so hardly including all of them – has come up with these numbers: Rape acts in the book series: 214 /Rape victims: 117, (see *). Likewise, there are statistics showcasing how much (or rather how little) do female characters actually speak in GoT, compared with the male characters (see chart below). A show that boasts (hilariously!) to be about “powerful” women, it only allows them to speak 26% as much as men – 22% in the last season, by the way. Someone ought to check the finale episode as well, in which women never said more than a few words each – and some of them, not even that! 

But of course it is not just the nameless prostitutes or the nameless villagers who are abused throughout the series. Most major female characters are raped, many tortured, all of them humiliated in one way or another. Daenerys Targaryen the mother of Dragons herself, and the supposedly future ruler of all seven kingdoms (or so we were led to believe for 8 seasons!), was of course sold to a barbarian by her own brother. Her brutal abuse by her husband was needless to say, trivialised. Her reaction to that horrifying experience is interpreted through a man’s view of the world (and vocabulary of sexual fantasies obviously): instead of being gutted by the fact that she was treated like a piece of meat, and instead of trying to escape, as any woman in her shoes would do, she makes sure to become a proper little wifey to him: she decides to take sex lessons from a prostitute on how to please him! And once she does, lo and behold, she falls in love with him. (Yeah, you can’t make this shit up. Unless you are a man…)

On the other hand, Gilly, the young girl who was (like all of her many sisters) raped by her own father (who is also her husband…) ever since she was a child, (actually she is STILL a child) is on top of that, attacked by a bunch of other men. (Because why not, right? That’s what women in Game of Thrones are there for, after all!) After she is saved by the love struck Sam, he of course silently – but unmistakably – asks her to show her “gratitude”. And she does, poor girl. Not a single minute is spent on her recovery! Because that’s what women who were almost gang-raped do apparently… Climb on top the very next man they see and get on with it… Speaking of Gilly, how interesting is it that Jon Snow – the hero of the piece – only wants to help her escape when he finds out what happens when she or one of her sisters give birth to a son: the baby boy is offered to the Night King. He is not equally moved by the knowledge that baby girls follow the same road as their mothers: they too are abused by their father / grandfather / husband to be! Helping Gilly (or any of her sisters) escape the vicious cycle of incest and abuse was seen as “interfering”! It was only when the fate of boys comes to light that he and Sam decide to help her… Because, to quote Varys, in this world (as in ours) “Cocks matter”…

Sansa, after she narrowly escapes getting married to the sadistic teen king Joffrey, (and then the wisecracking – but lets face it, degenerate – Tyrion) is forced to marry Ramsay, who ALSO happens to be a sadist. (What are the odds of that you ask? Very VERY high actually…) On top of being a psychopath, Ramsay is also the one who stole her ancestral home, and the son of the man who had a hand at murdering her mother, brother and sister in law. On their wedding night, he tortures and rapes her (of course!), adding the particularly sick twist of doing it in the presence of her childhood friend Theon (the man he tortured and castrated earlier). The emphasis is of course given on Theon’s pain, as he is forced to watch all this, instead of Sansa’s own, who happens to be the actual victim. And this says quite a lot!

Not only does GoT not show the damaging ramifications of rape / torture, psychological and physical abuse, but it presents them as banal everyday occurrences, or worse, as precious and needed life lessons for women that lead to their maturity and power! For example, in one of the last episodes of the series, the character of Sansa is being reminded that she used to be a “little bird” before she met Little Finger and Ramsy (the men who manipulated and abused her). To which she replies that without them she would have stayed a little bird all her life. Hurrah! for abusive men then… Where would women be without them? (Talk about a male perspective of things…)

Even the mighty Cersei is not spared from the rape epidemic. She is raped by her brother/ lover Jamie. In the middle of a church! On the day of their son’s funeral! With the dead body of their son in a casket next to them! (Yeah. It’s THAT kind of a show…) After this particularly disturbing scene caused an outraged from many viewers, the director of the episode defended it by saying (to the website Hitfix.com) that it was “consensual by the end”. Such a claim is quite ridiculous (not to mention damaging, and an insult to all the many women around the world who have been raped) The theme of the “NO! that means Yes!” is of course prevalent throughout the entire series of books, and very much in accordance with the popular porn scenario (and one assumes, male fantasies) that puts men’s mind at rest that they are not in fact, rapists! Even if it was “consensual by the end” (and this is most definitely NOT what we saw!)  it was so, because a bunch of guys WROTE it like that! (And they do tend to write it like that in most shows these days!) How is that a valid response? And how does this writing choice the (male) writers made (that would conveniently release them from the responsibility of being accountable for yet another horrific rape scene) is a good excuse when faced with outrage from viewers? It’s a comforting thought I guess, to think that women love pain and want to be raped. In the same way that women are depicted in porn (and pop culture) as willing to go to any lengths to serve male sexual desires, regardless of how extreme or degrading they are. It keeps men from having to see them as human beings, from experiencing compassion, empathy, or simply mercy towards them so that they would stop using violence against them. It frees men from the apparently unbearable for them, burden of a having conscience… Creating literature, TV shows, movies, music that systematically push this agenda, creates a culture that allows men to continue to do just that: cause women pain for their sexual gratification and do it undisturbed, unchecked, unpunished. And on top of that, blame it on the women. Who secretly “want” it! 

I find it quite telling that the tomboyish Arya, is the only one of the main female characters who’s been spared from being raped, and then also the only one who turns into a little monster. Sure she ended up killing the Night King but also she’s been merrily gutting her enemies, slicing their throats without a second thought, or cooking pies with the body parts of their loved ones, which she then serves to them! As if to imply that there’s a correlation between the two facts: As a female, you can either be a passive victim, or a monster. Similarly, the other female (supportive) character that was spared from being raped (though she did have some close calls) is Brienne. The female warrior who is – as we are being told over and over again – too “unfeminine”, too tall, too strong, too much like a man. Implying again, that being feminine / pretty is a dangerous business that should come with an unavoidable (and justified) cost… Not to mention that the only two women who take revenge on their rapists are villains themselves (Cersei, who kills her husband, and the witch / Priestess who kills Khal Drogo and Daenerys’s baby) implying again that there’s a correlation between the two: “good girls sit and take it. It’s only bitches that make a fuss” This show is so drenched in old-timey misogyny it’s downright biblical!

Whenever the subject of violence against women is also raised to anyone involved in Game of Thrones – including the actors – they usually answer (On cue! almost like they were coached…) that violence is not specific to women and that men are also killed on the show. So they are. None of them as the result of (or punishment for) their sex though. Not to mention none of them were raped either, not to mention none of these murders were sexualised… Given that women are STILL the oppressed class, watching so many of them on the show being publically shamed, and tortured and raped and killed as a result of sexual (or sexualized) violence, is frankly not the same thing as watching men being killed in battle or swords-fights. And if you have trouble understanding why this is unacceptable, or why it is different than men being killed on the same show, try imagining a show that depicts people from a particular ethnic group that has been historically oppressed (say black people, or Native Americans, or Jews) Try to imagine a show that bases its appeal on their humiliation and pain. Try to imagine an HBO show for instance, that lasts eight seasons in which black people, Native Americans or Jews or other minorities, are sexually assaulted and tortured by white people (white men obviously!) on a regular basis, for no other reason than they are not white. Now try to imagine a show that shows all that, NOT in order to condemn the fact (in manner of say “Roots”AguirreRoyal Hunt”, “Schindler’s List” or similar), but as entertainment! Because such a sight would satisfy a certain type of White viewers’ s “needs”!  Can you imagine such a racism-fest? (Even in this post-Trump climate, and the global rise of Far Right political parties?) Can you imagine this happening and not causing protests from said ethnic groups, (or from most of us?) Can you imagine HBO (or any other major player in the entrainment business) backing up such a show? NO! Because as much as racism is BY NO MEANS eradicated from our culture, it is at least, generally speaking, frowned upon. Or at the very least, checked by political correctness. We have become “cultured” enough to at least superficially acknowledge it as a BAD thing, recognise it when we witness it, and also not use it for voyeuristic purposes. Which is of course, more than we can say about misogyny!  

Could the argument “well white men (white supremacists, skinheads, slavers, conquistadors, Nazis, and so on) are also being killed” on such a show, suffice as an excuse that would make the televised abuse of blacks and Native Americans and Jews OK? It wouldn’t. Because black people, Native Americans or Jews have a specific history of being an oppressed class, and a show that approves, glamorizes or even fetishizes their suffering (instead of condemn it, by showing for example the impact it had on their life and for generations) would not simply point towards their disenfranchisement, but actually encourage it, normalise it, and even help duplicate it! And showing a few Nazis, or a few plantation owners getting killed as well, would NOT make such shows acceptable! Yet the argument “well men are also being killed in Got” or “men are also being tortured, now take Theon for example…” are always being used as arguments to excuse the countless acts of gender-specific violence against women in GoT.

When it comes to women, we are culturally wired to seeing them being tortured and raped, and we are also being brainwashed from countless sources, to not only think that it is allowed, but to also actually buy it that it is desirable by them! (The victims!) Can you imagine a TV show that assumes that black people enjoyed being slaves? A TV show that tells us that Jews found the Holocaust a fun experience? Or an enriching one? And want nothing but to repeat it? Native Americans thinking that the genocide of their people was a hoot? NO! Not even Nazis assumed that what they were doing was pleasant to their victims! Yet, when it comes to women, it is their oppressors who control the conversation, who define what they like, (or ARE like), what is accepted, allowed, “normal”, “desirable”, etc, based on their own (the oppressors’ s) needs for women’s pain which they have sexualized. By satisfying their own need for images of objectified and humiliated women in pornography or pop culture, they both perpetuate the phenomenon and create a world in which it is justified, and seen as perfectly OK. As OK as selling slaves, gassing Jews or mass murdering Native Americans once was. 

When it comes to women, finding a way to present them as actual human beings in pop culture, is where we are at! When in comes to Women’s Rights, despite the progress that has been made, this is still the time when the conquistadors were obliterating entire worlds and “claiming them for Spain”. This is still the Sand Creek Massacre; this is still the American North of the 1700s; this is still Alabama in the middle of the Civil Rights Movement; this is still Germany in the mid 30s/40s. The entire world is still a cotton plantation, or the bloody Holocaust!

When it comes to women, this is a fight (the fight for equality, dignity and the right to count as actual humans, the right to exist without fear or threat) that is still going on! (And with very bad odds too!) That is why a TV show that objectifies women in such an extreme manner is seen – by some of us at least – as offensive. Equally offensive, as a show that glorifies racism or slavery would be seen by most of us! 

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“The Misogyny in Game of Thrones – part II”. Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications. Feel free to share on Social media.

READ ALSO: “Game of Thrones Finale – A Review”.

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GAME OF THRONES FINALE – Part I

A Review by Fanitsa Petrou – (Includes Spoilers)

“…In a show that gave us so many strong female characters (before it broke them down that is) the Iron Throne falls to someone who has a questionable relation with reality, but who is (and that is crucial!) male! And we can’t say that we haven’t been warned. Despite all those so-called “progressive” plot-lines with female badasses, this story was above all, about male authority…”

(Note: For those of you who were apparently living under a rock, Game of Thrones (GoT), is a medieval-like fantasy epic, an HBO show adopted from George R.R. Martin’s best-selling book series “A Song of Ice and Fire” and by now a global phenomenon and in many respects, a cultural event: more than 31 million copies of the books have been sold so far, which have been translated into more than 25 different languages, while The HBO series is broadcast in more than 150 countries. This is a review – of sorts – of the entire series, and specifically a review of the 8th and final season, which aired on the 19th of May 2019)

The first time I’ve stopped watching Game of Thrones was the 9th episode of the first season, the moment when Ned Stark’s head was chopped off, while his two daughters were watching! It was not merely a brutal scene, but it was also a pretty big indicator that GoT was keen on subverting the traditional narrative of TV shows, and that it was choosing to do it in a manner that was frankly deeply upsetting! Ned Stark was killed off mercilessly despite of the fact that he was the moral compass of the entire show! A just and honourable man, in a place that was populated by dishonest degenerates, and vicious crooks. And here they were, triumphing over him! Here he was, being killed, not simply because he was a decent man, but because he was naive enough (like most decent individuals) to believe in the decency of others! Which made his death, doubly disturbing! Plus he was the central character of the show up until that point! Not to mention, played by Sean Bean who happened to be the biggest star in the cast! This was Boromir for God’s sake! Sure, he exited from Lord of the Rings prematurely as well, and he does tend to die in most of his other movies too, but still! His decapitation (and the graphic manner in which it was done) indicated that this was a show that was concerned with shocking us with violence, as well as with unexpected plot twists, and that the creators of the show had no qualms about getting rid of any character at any given point of their storyline. Then the whole arranged and abusive marriage of Drogo and Daenerys, that was sold to us as a great love story in the end, the incest business between the twins, the endless brothel scenes with Tyrion, and then to top it all up, that horrible decapitation scene were too much! I for one, was out! 

As much as I was interested to see how it would all turn out, how Jon Snow would survive as an outcast after “he took The Black”, or how little Arya would fare on her own (I’m always rooting for the underdogs after all), I felt that there was something sick hidden beneath the glossy surface, the addictively well-crafted plot and the superb cinematography. This might have been a great story, but watching it, just took a lot out of me! And I wasn’t the only one who felt like that!  

Then a couple of years after that, I was asked to write a review of the 3rd season for a feminist publication. I was reluctant but I thought I would take “one for the team”. So I took a deep breath and dived back in. I kept my eye on the Internet buzz the show was causing, and knew that things have escalated violence-wise. I was planning to see a few key episodes, write my piece and be done with it. And then I happened upon the Brienne / Jaime storyline, and I was hooked again – Goddammit! Brienne occupied to my eyes, the same space Ned Stark once did: she was a courageous and fiercely loyal individual, in a world of horrible and disgusting human beings. This time, I wasn’t going to be caught off guard however. So before watching each episode, I would go online and check out what fresh horrors it would contain, so that I would avoid watching that bit (or watch from behind my fingers like a five-year old). And yet, despite having been warned about the Red Wedding, it still caught me off guard. I felt sick and infuriated with myself for going against my better judgement, and being lured back in. It wasn’t enough that half the leading cast was being killed off. It had to be done in that manner! The pregnant’ s woman’ s death was particularly disturbing, not to mention apparently worse on TV than in the books. Which means someone working on the show read that a pregnant woman was to be killed and said: “No, that won’t do! That is not enough, she can’t just be stabbed and die. Her belly must be pierced repeatedly with a sword first!” This was obviously a sick, mean-spirited show! That was the second time I’ve stopped watching it. 

The show still existed in the periphery of my vision so to speak, as reviews of it, cast interviews and news stories about it, appeared everywhere (online, on social media, in magazines, chat shows, or friends’s conversations who wouldn’t shut up about it) Shocking details kept coming from everywhere (Jon Snow is DEAD?! WHAT the…? Oh, he is NOT? Resurrected you said? Wow! Arya did what? (Jeez!) Melisandre is how old? Little Bran is what now? Daenerys and Jon Snow are a couple?! And she is his what?) I was tempted, but I kept my course. I didn’t return properly to it, though I would sporadically watch random episodes (one or two, from most remaining seasons, and always after I’ve “researched” where the disturbing bits were, (the raping, the abuse, the slashing of throats and the disgusting rest of it), so that I would skip them. Not always successfully. You can’t always time when you close your eyes…. A ton of nauseating atrocities, sexual violence and pointless, cruel plot twists, still came to my attention… Even when I mostly listened to the show while I was painting (which is when I do all my major TV watching anyway, rather than properly sit and watch), a ton of things would still come to my attention and upset me. (A TV show shouldn’t cause so much dread, or require that much mental preparation before watching it, and it shouldn’t make you sick to your stomach, once you’ve watch it, surely!)

And then the final season came, and the anticipation and the buzz about it being fantastic and all that. Who would sit on that bloody throne? Who was the Night King? Who would die? Who would survive? Would Brianne and Jaime get it on? What would happen to the rest of them? So, there I was again, watching from behind my fingers, more listening than watching, bracing myself for the worst. And Game of Thrones stayed true to its reputation: it did give us the worst!

This is, at its heart, as Ian McShane has put it (and bless him for saying it!) a show that is basically about “tits and dragons”. All the rest, (the complex plot lines that are taking a cue from Medieval European history; the characters we are rooting for; the occasional witty dialogue (especially Tyrion’s sarcastic observations and Lady Olenna’s leathal oneliners – a magnificent Diana Rigg – who is written like she is channelling Kathrine Hepburn in “The Lion In Winter”); then moments like that “Chaos is a Ladder”exchange between those masters of political intrigue Little Finger and Varys, which was admittedly an impressive piece of writing; and as twists go, that bit with Hodor’s death, in which we get to see from where he got his name, (one of the most heartbreaking moment of the entire series, but also a pretty damn clever one as well!); the stunning locations; the spectacular Art direction that created entire worlds (seven in fact) from scratch; the cinematography; the costume designs which are works of Art in themselves; the attention to detail; the superb cast; or the cinematic quality of the whole production) are secondary. Outstanding (sure!) but secondary! Or at least means to a goal that is anything but noble! What the show is really about in the end, is violence, gore, rapes, naked women and  above all, misogyny. Which might mean that what we have in GoT is a case of wasted potential. On a colossal scale. And the last couple of episodes of the finale season, proved it!

This has been a pretty controversial ride, full of wonderful moments and a ton of disgusting ones as well! The show takes inspiration from trusted sources (ancient Roman as well as Medieval history, Celtic mythology, the Goddess tradition, even Homer, and so on – which is why every plot-line seems vaguely familiar. “Taking the Black” is of course referencing monastic life, (specifically in the traditions of the “Avaton”, in the Greek Orthodox Church, specifically at Athos – a secluded and forbidden to women entire community of monks), the unsullied are referencing the Janisaries, a highly disciplined infantry of the Ottoman Empire, which consisted of slave soldiers who were taken from their homes as kids and trained at war, when their lands were occupied; the character of Varys, is referencing eunuchs in the Ming Dynasty in China who served at the Court, or possibly the ones in the Ottoman courts and harems; Lady Olenna is basically Eleanor of Aquitaine, the vows taken at GoT weddings (that refer to the female trinity of Maiden/ Mother/ Crone) are referencing the Goddess tradition, as well as Greek mythology and the rites of Persephone (Persephone: Daughter / Demeter: Mother / Hecate / Crone); little Shirren being sacrificed by her father, is of course referencing Homer’s Iliad (Agamemnon sacrificing Iphigeniah to appease the Wind god)the god of Fire may be referencing the Zoroastrian religion; Cercei’s sexualised humiliation and the whole Sparrow arc is basically referencing all woman-hating Patriarchal religions (old and contemporary) and especially the kind of thing that was taking place during the Inquisition; The Wall is referencing the Hadrian Wall build by the Romans; the green fire used in the siege of Blackwater Bay is referencing the “liquid fire” used in the Siege of Constantinople by the Turks; the Red Wedding was probably inspired by the brutal massacre of the “Black Dinner” event of 15thcentury Scotland; while the sadistic teen king Joffrey was probably based on the British prince, Edward of Lancaster, etc, etc) 

The writer mixes it all in a pretty clever and efficient way, that is quite fascinating for all of us, history geeks. Yet, what stays with you in the end, is the violence and the mean-spiritness of it all: the loathsome villains, the graphic depictions of rape as entertainment, the misogyny, the torture scenes, the underlying theme of incest, the use of women’s naked bodies as fan-bait, the beheadings, the throats that are being slitted (and they must have been hundreds of them), the mutilated corpses. And it’s Theon being tortured and castrated; it’s Sansa being raped; (or Cersei being raped; or Daenerys being raped… etc etc..); it’s Arya turning basically into a serial killer, making pies made from her enemies’s body parts with the toes sticking out; it’s Daenerys eating a horse’s raw heart to ensure that the baby in her belly would be (what else?) a son; it’s Ned Stark’s headless body; it’s a ten year old boy (TEN year old!) breastfeeding his mum while standing up; it’s Sansa’s dog being choked by her father because a drunken king said so; it’s the sadistic teen king Joffrey torturing and killing – in the most shocking of ways – whores (good luck getting THAT out of your mind…); it’s that  Ramsay doing all those other sadistic things and then being mauled by his dogs; and it is also the skinning of (so many, MANY!) animals too, (for someone who has trouble watching people cut cooked meat in their plate – let alone eating it – imagine what watching Tywin Lannister skinning an entire animal, did to me even when seen from behind my fingers -I will never look at the actor Charles Dance in the same way again, let me tell you); and it’s The Mountain gouging someone’s eyes with his fingers and splitting their skull in half; It’s Ellaria Sand forced to witness her daughter’s death and then to live the rest of her life watching her corpse rot in front of her eyes in her cell; it’s the whole Red Wedding, in which half the leading cast was massacred; and it’s innocent peasants being killed randomly just because they are “too weak to survive”; it’s adorable little Shirren (one of my favourite characters of the show) being sacrificed (burned to death at the stake!) by her own father to appease the god of whateverfuck and make him a king… And in the final season (episode 5), it’s the little girl and her mother, being burned to death, after we were fooled to identify with them, and actually think they could survive! All of which prompt us to shout to our TV (and not for the first time) while addressing the writer of the book, the directors, the producers, the whole bunch of them (and occasionally even the actors who could stand being part of such horrific things):WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU???!!!   What kind of mind thinks of such things?!  

This is most definitely not about “historical accuracy” about the “realities of war”, as the writer was quoted to say when asked to explain his reasons for using so much violence and so many rapes as plot-devices. This is about voyeurism. About getting pleasure from writing, and then watching especially women being physically and mentally brutalised and humiliated. And by the way with which Daenerys and Brianne’s storylines end in the finale season, it is also about finding sick pleasure in vilifying, or else humiliating and disempowering strong women.That is why we had to see Daenerys turn from the “breaker of chains”, the woman who freed all those slaves, the one who has been working towards the goal of creating a world without tyrants, into a gruesome villain in the last couple of episode of the series. 

In the 5th episode for example, she sentences Varys to death, whom she considers to be her enemy. As much as this was certainly an unnecessary and cruel death, it is obviously also a hurried writing decision, a plot-device used to indicate the beginning of her mental and moral downfall, as the sign that she is turning bad. Interestingly enough, when the male characters are killing off their enemies or condemning them to death for treason, it is seen as justice. Even Jon Snow, executed a number of “traitors”, including that little kid who stabbed him (again, he couldn’t spare them and imprison them instead?) Every single hero has done something atrocious at some point. Even the righteous Ned Stark, executed a guy at the very first episode (not to mention killed with his very hands Sansa’s wolfdog – I’m sorry, I can’t get over that one! Like he couldn’t set it free in the wild instead?) Robb Stark (also one of the good guys) imprisoned his own mother for letting Jamie go! Yet none of these actions were seen as “madness” or signs they were becoming evil. Probably, because they referred to male characters. No matter what any of them did, they were still seen as heroes. Their storyline was not affected by such events! But when Daenerys condemns to death her own enemy, this is seen as a sign of worse things to come. (And worse things did come!)

 But then again, it stays true to the spirit of the show to fail female characters and to dehumanise and debase powerful women. So the show built her up for seven and a half seasons as the liberator of slaves, as a courageous and independent spirit who wanted to “break the wheel” and then turn her into a mad pyromaniac / mass murderer who burns an entire city in the finale and plans to enslave the entire world! That’s some fucked up stuff: the fact that the writers, went there, the fact that they needed to degrade her, in this specific manner. Cut her to size so to speak. And it matters! Because she was the only woman who managed to change the odds of her destiny, time and again. Hers was a harrowing journey, which however let her from pain to victory. She turned from basically the sex slave of a barbarian into a queen who commanded entire armies. Her ambition was – sure – unquestionable, but so were her compassion for the downtrodden and the enslaved, and her ability to recognise her mistakes and learn from them. 

Of course, it’s hardly suprising. This is after all a show that is more interested in eliciting shock in audiences, in pulling the carpet from underneath our feet rather than building characters that make sense. It first lures you in, with characters you are rooting for, and then once you are invested in them, it either kills them off, or have them act completely against character. And if they are women, well then, there’s got to be some form of comeuppance coming their way: they will either be raped, abased, killed, or turn into villains. Or else into crying little girls. Which was what happened to the mighty Brianne! She went from being an unbeatable, fearless warrior, and a symbol of integrity, dignity and loyalty (in short, a true rarity in a show that is populated by villains and crooks), into a crashed woman begging Jaime (who turns out he was just using her) to stay with her. 

What a devastating piece of crap their storyline was! The way we got invested in the Jaime / Brianne relationship, only to see that it was just another pointless dead end. Nothing noble, nothing decent is ever allowed to trump villainy and the baser instincts, in this show after all. We should have known! And yet we still wonder: what was the point of having these two built a kind of friendship and mutual respect that actually made Jaime (the original villain of the piece!) reexamine his motives, his actions, feel actual remorse, and rediscover his humanity? What is the point of seeing him strive to become a better human being, because of the influence Brianne had on him, because she saw him as a potentially “good man”? What was the point of that intimate moment they had in that communal bath back in season 3, when we were allowed to glimpse at a softer side of this “golden lion”, when he let his guard down, and he bitterly shared with her the story that got him the name “kingslayer”, which indicated that there was more to him than the arrogant, morally corrupt brat, who was fucking his sister… What was the damn point of all that chemistry they had for all those seasons? What was the point of him coming to the North, and by that, betraying his sister, as if to say that he is no longer that person? What was the point of being influenced by Brianne, or indeed having sex with her if he was to leave her in order to return back to his old self and his sister’s embrace (who had sent an assassin to kill him by the way)? Which is to say, what was the damn point of his entire arc in the last 5 seasons, that was supposedly slowly leading him into rediscovering his humanity, if he was to revert to being the same guy he was in the very first episode, telling Brianne that he “would have murdered every woman man and child just to get back to Cersei!” (Which of course echoes the very first episode!)? Why did he waste her then? (That was a special brand of cruelty, wasn’t?) Why didn’t the writers leave their relationship to be platonic? Why use her, if he was still the same mad-about-his-sister, in his own words, “hateful” guy?

And even worse, what was the point of giving us that uplifting moment in the second episode of the last series when he knighted Brianne? That was a pretty sneaky piece of work, wasn’t it? That whole episode! Full of reunions and gentle moments like that one, luring us in. Making us think that the ending of this series would be worth the while. Making us forget that soon enough the disappointing plot lines, the betrayal of female characters, and the gratuitous violence were just around the corner. That was a good episode, wasn’t it? Possibly the best in the series. Violence-free, rape-free too! Who would have thought that such a thing was possible? (Now I wish that this was the third and final time I’ve stopped watching GoT! That I never watched anything pass that!)

In the end, Cersei and Jaime’s love is the ONLY one that actually endures in the entire series! And the only one that lasts literally until their death! It is THEIR love story the writers have decided they needed to save! Every single couple got separated in the end, except from the incestuous one… (That should tell us something!!) And then again, their death was almost unremarkable. We were not even sure they died by the end of episode five, until Tyrion found their dead bodies in episode six… That was weird, for a show that is so keen on staging spectacular death scenes… If this was meant to be seen as some sort of poetic justice (the golden lions being taught a final lesson, being lost in the dust of their once glorious palace), it’s kind of wasted, not to mention it sends mixed messages: this was neither their palace, nor were they really as lost in their death as so many other heroes and heroines: they had each other after all.  

In the final episode, we also watch Bienne (loyal to Jaime till the end, and loyal to her own self as well, not allowing his betrayal to affect her integrity) recording his feats of courage in the book of Knights. Restoring his memory, telling the world that he was more than a kingslayer. She ends her writing with the most heartbreaking of lines: “Died protecting his queen.” 

Brienne’s story-line was like I said particularly frustrating. But it was not the only one. It’s like the creators/ writers of the series can’t stand to see a woman happy or in a position of power! They need to tear her apart, push her down one way or the other. If she is powerful, she needs to be humiliated; if she is loyal, brave and decent, she needs to be punished; if she is focused on a goal, she must turn into a villain; if she seeks justice, then she must go to the dark side; if she is innocent and naive, she must snap out of it by being the victim of unspeakable violence and so on…  Sure, male characters go through difficulties, and have bad ends, but when it comes to women, everything rings a bit too familiar, a bit too related to the history of misogyny as it unfolded through the centuries. The punishments they suffer are much too often sexualized! Their abasement feels deliberate, shaded with misogynistic – practically biblical – undertones. It feels a little too familiar, too related to the angry “warnings” about the “nature” of women, and what they “deserve” to have happen to them, as uttered by all those Old Testament prophets (or modern-day Christian, Jewish or Moslem priests). That’s why writers / TV show creators, love the Medieval epic genre after all. Because it gives them license to write about women in a manner that they are no longer allowed to, when writing about contemporary women. It gives them license to step into a place where misogyny is not seen as “intentional” (and it won’t betray their true beliefs about women),  but simply recounting “historical facts”.

And the writers of this particular medieval saga really did go to town!  They had the ferociously brave and dignified Catelyn Stark, find a horrible and unexpected to us all end; Talisa (Robb Stark’s pregnant wife) not just be killed but specifically be punished for being pregnant; the innocent Sansa to go through many variations of female hell in the hands of TWO sadistic princes Joffry AND Ramsay (who knew that young “Ash” – Iwan Rheon–  from the hilariously camp show Vicious had that in him?!); the powerful, Cersei be stripped down by religious fanatics and be humiliated in that long naked Walk of Shame while people threw garbage (and worse!) at her, while shouting at her (what else?) “Shame! Shame!” (the chant favoured by all misogynysts); and in the finale season they had Brianne be a complete waste of a great character, with that Jamie nonsense in the end, and now they had Daenerys turn (in the span of 2 episodes that defied her arc of 8 seasons) from a heroine who had compassion and humanity, into a mad, vindictive mass murderer who burns an entire city out of spite! Rape, pain, humilation, violent deaths, madness, loneliness are what awaited most of them in the end…

How interesting is it, that reviewers of the finale use the past actions of Daenerys (or any fictional character for that matter) to explain how she turns out evil, forgetting that she was WRITTEN like that by a bunch of guys who made specific choices for specific reasons?! It is far more interesting (and reality based) to talk about the reasons why male writers love writing female fictional characters turning bad once they’ve gained power, rather than say “well, she did kill the Tarlys back in episode so and so”, or “she did kill those slavers” or “she did ask Jon to ‘bend the Knee” and so on, as if they are collectively forgetting that she is not an actual person: someone (a guy) wrote her killing the Tarlys. Someone wrote her killing the cruel slavers. Someone wrote her insisting on that Knee bending business! Possibly with the specific purpose of making us remember those “controversial” moments in her story line when she would be revealed to us in the last couple of episodes as a psychotic villain, so that her transition would be less of a surprise… 

Jane Austen (YES! That’s right, Jane Austen!) said it best in “Persuasion” when she has a male character say (in this case based on actual reality): “I do not think I ever opened a book in my life which had not something to say upon woman’s inconstancy. Songs and proverbs, all talk of woman’s fickleness. But perhaps you will say, these were all written by men.” To which the book’s heroine replies: “Perhaps I shall. Yes, yes, if you please, no reference to examples in books. Men have had every advantage of us in telling their own story. Education has been theirs in so much higher a degree; the pen has been in their hands. I will not allow books to prove anything.” Which is what I also say to some reviewers who actually used words written by men about fictional women to judge the “true nature” of us all, or who used the GoT finale as a proof about the “dangers” of having women in positions of power!

Jon Snow’s final destiny is also quite disheartening and utterly disappointing. He stabs Daeneryes (while kissing her!) and by that, freeing the world from her impending tyranny. She dies unceremoniously by the way, and the show is done with her – the supposedly major female lead – in a matter of a few seconds. (How telling is that?!) Jon Snow, in order to pay for his crime (and be saved from the rage of the unsullied who want to revenge the death of their queen) is sentenced to return to The Wall. To spend his remaining years living the monastic life of those who “took the black”. Upon arriving at the Wall, he is met by the Wildings however (and Ghost, who is now missing an ear, poor thing– their brief reunion being about the only thing that was not disappointing in the finale…) The episode (and the entire show) ends as we watch him go beyond the gate, following them to their icy world, and we are let to assume that he was not to return to the life on the Wall after all, but would live as a free man among the fur wearing, savages. Either way, it is a disappointing end, as his was in the end a regressing route: he started off as an outcast, a bastard in his father’s house, forced to take the black and become a nameless guardian of the Wall, and despite his adventures, his rise as king of the North, his feats of courage and glory, he is forced to return to it in the end. That was another major let down and a monumentally bad call

Drogon (Daenerys last dragon), after he laments his “mother’s” death, flies away and is conveniently out of the story (and everybody’s minds). Before he left though, he did engage in a pretty significant act of symbolism: he burned with his flame the Iron Throne, melting it down to a pulp, indicating in this manner that the new world would be different. And as it turns it would be: kings would be the choice of the Lords and Ladies of the various Houses (a first step towards a democratisation of sorts) and not the result of lineages or bloody wars, as we are told later. Which is what can only be seen as a good start! Though why did the dragon destroy the throne, but spare Jon (Daenerys’s murderer after all!) is a mystery. He was apparently intelligent enough to sense that his “mother” was dying and run to her, and intelligent enough to destroy down the root of her downfall, the thone she coveted so much that it turned her into a villain. Are we to assume that he also knew that her death was necessary and that is why Jon was spared? (If so, then that is one remarkably clever monster! Though if he is THAT clever and has the capacity for complex, independent thought, how come he was OK with burning an entire city for that same throne?) Yet, for a show that kept a reign on the metaphysical / fantasy stuff, it is a strange choice to give the most symbolic of moments of the entire show, not to a human being but to a dragon! 

Tyrion ends up becoming (reluctantly) the new King’s Hand (and has a lesson or two in humility too), Sam becomes a Grand Maester (a happy ending for him at least) and is even responsible for the title (“A Song of Ice and Fire”) of the book that records the “historical” events that let them all there (in a neat book-within-a-book twist); that chancer Bron, becomes Master of Coins (and “lofty titles” as  Sir Davos puts it) and of course immediately starts campaigning for the rebuilding of the town’s brothels, prioritising this task to the rebuilding of the fleet (so no changes there…); Podrick is now a knight (how interesting is that! Brienne’s  own knighthood was a big-to-do and centuries of tradition had to be broken in order to take place given that she was a woman and all, despite of the fact that she kept beating man after man in swordsfights her entire life, and here is her clumsy-useless-with-a-sword squire being one as well!); and last but not least, Arya (after she rejected Gendry’s marriage proposal because she has no desire to become a “lady”) sets off on a ship for new adventures: she travels West of Westeros, to “where all maps stop” to see what’s out there. A fitting ending to her story indeed (the writers got this one right at least!); while Sansa, becomes the proud queen of the independent again North, and interestingly enough, her moment of triumph is not seen as nearly important enough as to be given more than a second or two! The entire finale was after all about men! No female lead had more than a moment, or more than a sentence or two of dialogue!!

As for the big question that set this entire journey into motion: who would rule the seven kingdoms, who would sit on the (now hypothetical) Iron Throne? The unexpected answer is: young Bran! Who would have thought? Sure, this could have been worse, and sure, he will be a just King, but given that he is now “not of this world”, and possibly more at home in the woods, conversing with faeries and crows and tree-shamans and unseen things, or else time-traveling to lost corners of history, rather than dealing with the day-to-day logistics of governing a kingdom, he is a very VERY weird choice. In a show that gave us so many strong female characters (before it broke them down that is) the Throne falls to someone who has a questionable relation with reality, but who is (and that is crucial!) male!

We can’t say that we haven’t been warned. Despite all those so-called “woke” plot-lines with female badasses, this story was above all, about male authority. When Tyrion and Varys are discussing about Daenery’s “state of mind”and her suitability to sit on the Iron Throne and rule Westeros, for example, Varys suggests that Jon would make a better king: “He is temperate and measured” (he might as well have added “not hysterical like a woman”…) And he continues: “He is a man! Which makes it more appealing to the Lords of Westeros… Cocks ARE important I’m afraid”, the eunuch (of all people) says… At Tyrion’s suggestion that Jon and Daenerys rule together (which is, let’s face it, what most of us expected as a finale) he replies: “She is much too strong for him”.  

So there you have it! That’s the gist of the entire show in a nutshell: “Strong women bad. Cocks good!” That about covers it!

***

May 21, 2019. “Game of Thrones Finale – A Review”. Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications. Feel free to share on Social media.

READ ALSO: The Misogyny in Game of Thrones – part II”.

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WINE COUNTRY – A Movie Review.

(includes spoilers)


This is a movie that understands women. That understands for example that deep down inside, it’s NOT about men! (Someone ought to alert the male screenwriters / directors / producers, already!) And that sometimes, all you need from life, is to sing “Eternal Flame” with your best friends, while wearing your “best muumuu”.

Six women in their 50s (or thereabouts) who have been friends for decades – ever since they waited tables at a Pizza place in Chicago – meet for a birthday weekend at Napa Valley. That’s the plot of the Netflix movie “Wine Country” basically.  You go into it, expecting a movie that follows the usual adults-misbehaving format (getting drunk, smoking pot, making a fool of one’s self at karaoke bars, having-ill-conceived one night stands, ect) and on some level it does, but this one has more smarts and heart and texture that you have initially suspected!

If coastal resorts have always been seen in cinema, as a good setting for coming of age stories, then wine country ones are traditionally seen as coming-to-terms-with-middle-age (see Sideways, Botte Shock, etc) And it makes sense. It’ s good to have the support of beautiful vistas and plenty of  booze in close proximity when you are facing your own mortality… Unlike cinematic male-bonding trips, which are always (with the exception of the “The Trip”) about men looking for a distraction and an escape from monogamy and the moral structures of relationships and marriage (which is another way of saying: for striptease clubs and prostitutes), cinematic female bonding trips (much like their real life equivalent) focus on the relationships that bind women together, making them family. Not because they’ve been to a prison in Thailand together during a dirty weekend, or because they need to keep each other’s secrets about shady interactions with striptease dancers, but because of the memories and emotional connection they share. Their trips are more about reconnection, rather than escapism. And this movie is a great example of that! 

This is above all else, a movie that offers a fascinating, credible look behind the curtain of female friendships. In the dynamics of the relationship of these women, we recognise our own patterns: the friend who is always reluctant to go anywhere, the uptight friend who is planning the shit out of everything, the friend (usually the exhausted stay-home mum) who just wants to drink, the friend who is constantly checking her phone, the friend who is always on the look out for hook ups, the friend who is just chill, no matter what (until she throws her back out), the grievances that are constantly aired but never with evil intent, (and rarely face to face): the passive aggressiveness of talking about each other behind each other’ s backs, and then, the way all annoyances, all complaints, all hurt feelings magically disappear the minute the friend who caused all that needs you. This is all familiar (as well as familial) territory. We know these ladies. We kind of are, these ladies! 

Directed by Amy Poehler, and scripted with insight and sensitivity by Liz Cackowski and Emily Spivey (who saves for herself the most subdued character among them all), this is a movie that has no great ambitions, but which hits all the right notes.  Collectively (and of course individually) the eclectic cast possess considerable comedic chops, as most of them (or is it all of them?) are SNL alumnae after all (Amy Poehler , Rachel Dratch, Ana Gasteyer, Maya Rudolph, Paula Pell, Emily Spivey and Tina Fay in a smaller role, as their no-nonsense landlady). Even though this is an ensample-cast-kind-of-movie, it does not mean that any of them is overlooked: The writing is such that each character tells a full story even if their screen time is limited. 

Amy Poehler (like many other actors / turned directors) gives the performance of her life in this one: reigned in, at times heartbreaking, even introvert and esoteric when needed, nothing over the top, not a single note that’s out of tune. (Which might mean she should direct herself in all future projects!) In fact, they are all on great form, but Paula Pell in particular, is something of a revelation, blowing through scenes like a tornado, making us wonder why we have not seen more of her in other things?

This is a movie that has all the usual ingredients of this subgenre: a cancer scare, a lumbago, getting drunk, fucking a random guy, singing Bangles at the top of your lungs, a lesbian attempting to date the very first lesbian she encounters on the trip, 80s and 90s upbeat tunes, and having an epiphany or two about your life. Sure, this follows the formulaic format of most buddy movies, yet there’s undeniably heart here. After the (obligatory) getting-stupidly-drunk bit is out of the way, things pick up, as attention turns to the dynamics of their friendship. Even though not much is happening, as this is a movie that follows a kind of day-in-the-life structure (or in any case weekend-in the-life) the funny observations, the easygoing charm, and the cast’s fizzing chemistry carries us on. As the six ladies take scenic routes of the wine country via bus, eat at restaurants, face millennials, belt out 80’s ballads, or do the wine tasting bit (to hilarious effect), they are reconnecting and facing life altering dilemmas. Not everything hits, though, most notably when they venture into physical comedy territory (that whole rolling down the hill business, or the supposedly wacky antics of Paula Pell’s character, when she is stepping into Melissa Mcarthy territory and does that whole running-and-doing-acrobatics bit that leaves us wondering “Why?” yet it is all saved by the writing which deftly balances humanity with comedy. It is their relationship, (a beautiful mix of contradiction, affection, and humor) that elevates this beyond genre stereotypes. 

The scenes at the winery get the best laughs – their boredom with people who insist on thinking you want to listen to them go on and on about wine, is priceless! And the scene in the art gallery is of course pretty spot on, as they are faced with the most annoying of millennial subsects: the millennial artists (that make all the rest of us literally ashame to say what we do for a living!) Was there ever a deeper generational gap than this one, I wonder? Even back in the 50s, when the whole generational war was initiated, middle aged people who thought Pat Boone was a rock god, would on some level still feel a connection with bobby sockers and Rock ‘n’ Roll dancing teens, and visa versa. They could at least recognize each other as being part of the same species. Which is more than many of us (from both ends of the spectrum) can say. (Though only the middle aged ones WILL say it, as being branded “offensive” is not exactly their greatest concern….) Wine Country gives us just that: an Art world inhabited by a special brand of millennials: self important, arrogant whippersnappers, doing gimmicky Art, in this particular case, shoe boxes, or paper coffee cups mounted on the wall, someone’s laundry, a girl posing in front of phone cameras, or a series of paintings that pay tribute to the 80s sitcom Nanny (“Fran Fine” as a princess, as Frida Kahlo, as Amelia Earhart, as an astronaut, and so on) all in order to indicate that “Nanny” was not apparently a sitcom but a “post-modern psycho-drama about classism and ambition in the 90s…”All said with no sense of irony (despite the ironic classes and ironic / gender bending outfits they choose to wear of course). When the ladies are faced with all these self-congratulatory statements and pointless nonsense, they are pretty outspoken about it, and their ranting just warms our heart! Of course the arrogant youths first see it as “offensive” and then, start to think it is a kind of “happening”, a kind of live “installation”. The artist even asks them to come the following night and repeat their ranting! Which about sums it up. (What is the use of actual feelings when they are not aimed to provide validation right?)

When Maya Rudolph’s character asks them: “My oldest kid is 15, and on the verge of becoming …this… I just want to know, how do I stop her from becoming an asshole?”,  or when  Amy Poehler’s character says: “I CAN’T with the confidence of these people!”, they speak for all of us.

Of course the generational gap goes both ways: young people are equally brutal when judging older people. Especially tech-challenged ones. Any Poehler’s character loses her job for example, because she is seen as being less than nifty when it comes to social media. “One time I can’t figure out how to get on snapchat. ONE TIME!” she cries in desperation. To which her friend replies full of understanding: “Young people blow.” 

As it turns out, they do have some epiphanies about the direction their life is taking but this is again done in a way that rings true, rather than following the usual recipe so often scripted by male writers. The female writers of this, for one, do not romanticise the hook up two of them have with the weird chef guy – in fact they seem not to give it a second thought! Plus, it is not seen as an opportunity to show some weird sex thing (which again would be the choice of a contemporary male writer / director) and none of them see it as anything other than random, insignificant and kind of hilarious (“I guess he does ‘come’ with the house”) Also, when it comes to turning 50, it tells it like it is: it is the time when your eyes are opened and you run out of the ability to pretend, which also means it is the time when divorce is seen as an improvement rather than a tragedy, the time when friends become pretty much your family, when priorities shift, and vanities die with a whimper.

By the end of the movie, decisions are being made: one of them is gearing for a long overdue divorce, one of them is opting out of a career opportunity, another is facing the fact that she needs to stop chasing after younger love interests, while another is trying to come to terms with losing her job. Yet all of it is thankfully, surprisingly, shockingly even, seen as wholly unrelated to men!! These crises, these decisions are about them, not the men in their life, or even their kids. How many movies do that? See women as independent individuals with needs of their own, which are unrelated to those of their husbands / boyfriends or kids? Whose great concerns are related to decisions relating to their job, and their peace of mind rather than their marriage? And how many movies were ever made that see single women as doing anything other than pursuing and then (ideally) getting a boyfriend / husband, or not ending with them in a wedding dress? Which is to say: how many movies are out there, which do not fail the Bechdel test: how many movies are about women who talk to each other about something other than a man?

Wine Trip, is a movie in short, that sort of puts a loving arm around the girl that is hiding behind our middle-agedness, reassuring it that it is all right to age.“It will be shitty, but kind of OK too! And inevitable! So stop resisting it!” A message that is punctuated by the choice of actresses as well: all of them are in real life, sharp, intelligent, funny as hell ladies who look like the rest of us. Like individuals! Instead of, you know, like ageing, identical Barbie dolls, or cloned, emaciated marathon runners, with permanently surprised eyes, and lips that look like they have been stunk by bees, who despite being over 50, they still wants us to think they are 25. In short, scared out of their wits (because they are ageing) creatures, that make you want to quote “Lady Sunshine” (the Tarot reader from the movie) to them: “From one old lady to another. Get over all your shit. Cause it’s later than you think!” 

The truth of the matter is that there are just not that many movies spelling out – in  a multiple of ways: “fuck it, this is how women in their 50s look like.(When they are not scared shitless of ageing) This is what they think, and are about. Deal with it!”  And it is damn refreshing!

In short, this is a movie that understands women. That understands for example that deep down inside, it’s NOT about men! (Someone ought to alert the male screenwriters / directors / producers, already!)  And that sometimes, all you need from life, is to sing “Eternal Flame” with your best friends, while wearing your “best muumuu”.

“Wine Country – A Review”. Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications.

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ART by Fanitsa Petrou: http://www.fanitsa-petrou.com


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Στο Πάτο της Κόκκινης Λίμνης – Ο serial Killer της Κύπρου

Art & Words by Fanitsa Petrou.

Αν το Ολοκαύτωμα ήταν η σκοτεινότερη στιγμή της ανθρωπότητας, ένα σχεδιοποιημένο σύστημα παραγωγής του θανάτου, το πορνό είναι στην ουσία μια μηχανή παραγωγής μισογυνισμού.  Εξίσου άκαρδη, εξίσου σοκαριστική, σκληρή και εντέλει αποτελεσματική! Ο κόσμος του πορνό, τι είναι άλλο από μια τεράστια αποθήκη μίσους προς τις γυναίκες, που αναπαράγεται αδιάκοπα επιβεβαιώνοντας τις βαθιά ριζωμένα σεξιστικές πεποίθησεις των αντρών  θεατών, θρέφοντας αδιάκοπα την πείνα τους για γυναίκες / αντικείμενα, για πασίχαρα θύματα που απολαμβάνουν λέει τον εξευτελισμό τους, αποενοχοποιώντας τη πρωτόγονη αρσενική ανάγκη τους για βία και θύματα. 

https://society6.com/fanitsapetrou/collection/the-feminist-collection

«Όταν την έπνιγα ένιωθα ωραία» (βλ.#1*) ομολόγησε κυνικά ο φονιάς των – ποιος ξέρει πόσων – αλλοδαπών γυναικών της «κόκκινης λίμνης». Της γνώριζε λέει σε dating sites.  Αλλοδαπές (κυρίως Φιλιππινέζες) γυναίκες που εργάζονταν σα οικιακές βοηθοί. Που ήταν δηλαδή τρωτές, αδύναμες. Χωρίς ένα σύστημα υποστήριξης γύρω τους.

Πως να το χωρέσει ο νους μας; Πως να μην συγκλονιστούμε όλες μας από την είδηση πως ένας serial killer ζούσε ανάμεσα μας; Πως ενώ πηγαίναμε δουλειά, σινεμά, γραφείο, ενώ πίναμε φραπέδες σε καφέ, παραγγέλναμε σε εστιατόρια, εκείνος έπνιγε γυναίκες και κοριτσάκια. Τάβαζε λέει σε βαλίτσες και τα εξαφάνιζε σε λίμνες και πηγάδια. 

Συγχωρέστε με άντρες-αναγνώστες (αν υπάρχει κανένας σας εκεί έξω) που λέω “όλες μας”. Τούτος ο πόνος, είναι πιο δικός μας. Τούτος ο φόβος που βίωσε η κάθε μια τους, είναι εύκολα προσβάσιμος σε μας. Τον ξέρουμε καλά, κι ας φανήκαμε τυχερές να μην το βιώσουμε με τον ίδιο σκοτεινό τρόπο. Ξέρουμε τι σημαίνει να δεις τη σκοτεινή λάμψη σε μάτια αντρικά. Ξέρουμε τι σημαίνει να νιώσεις την απειλή (σε πράξη ή υπόνοια), από ένα σώμα μεγαλύτερο σου, δυνατότερο σου, βίαιο και χωρίς συμπόνια. Το κίνδυνο που παίρνει η κάθε μια μας, κάθε φορά που εύχεται τον έρωτα, τη συντροφικότητα, την αγάπη, τη χαρά, τη φιλία, και μπαίνει σε ενός άντρα που μόλις γνωρίσαμε το αμάξι. Με την ελπίδα πως θάναι ο “ένας”, ο “αλλιώτικός από τους άλλους”. Αυτός που είναι “κατά βάθος καλός”.  Τη ελπίδα που διαφθείρει τα νιάτα μας. Τη ζωή μας που παίζουμε όλες κορόνα-γράμματα σε κάθε νέα γνωριμία. Τη κρυφή προσευχή που κάνουμε να μη τελειώσει η νύχτα μας σε ένα χαντάκι στη άκρη ενός έρημου δρόμου.Γιατί έτσι τελειώνει η νύχτα για τόσες (ΤΟΣΕΣ!) πολλές από εμάς! Για εκατό εκατομμύρια από εμάς για την ακρίβεια! Για εκατό εκατομμύρια γυναίκες από όλες τις χώρες, που σύμφωνα με στατιστικές του ΟΗΕ αγνοούνται αυτή τη στιγμή, (Φανταστείτε πόσες σε χρόνια παλαιότερα. Αν τις προσθέσoυμε όλες, θάναι άραγε ποτέ το νούμερο αρκετά μεγάλο για να μας σοκάρει; Για να μας θορυβήσει επιτέλους πως κάτι τρέχει με τους άντρες;) Εκατό εκατομμύρια γυναίκες που αγνοούνται και που όταν εντέλει βρεθούν, (αν βρεθούν), είναι πνιγμένες, κομματιασμένες, πεταμένες σε σκουπιδοτενεκέδες! (βλ.#2*) Κυριολεκτικά! Συνήθως από τα χέρια αυτών που εμπιστεύτηκαν! 

Είναι βλέπετε εντέλει βάσιμος ο φόβος μας. Βασισμένος σε αληθινά γεγονότα. Κι ας προσποιούμαστε το αντίθετο… Κι είναι πραγματικά αξιοθαύμαστο το πόσο αρνούμαστε να το παραδεχτούμε. Γιατί η προσποίηση είναι αναγκαία για να διατηρηθούν οι ισορροπίες των εύθραυστων σχέσεων. (Κι η άγνοια ακόμα καλύτερη…) Η προσποίηση πως οι στατιστικές λεν ψέματα, και πως η κάθε γυναίκα στο πάτο της κόκκινης λίμνης είναι μια στο εκατομμύριο – και όχι τα 100 εκατομμύρια! Και πως ο δολοφόνος είναι η εξαίρεση του κανόνα, και όχι ένας από τους αμέτρητους που βίασαν και σκότωσαν 100 εκατομμύρια από εμάς!

Πως το μυαλό να χωρέσει το φόβο που ζήσαν στα χέρια του; Την αγωνία σαν κατάλαβαν τι τέλος θάχαν. Πως αυτός που ίσως νόμισαν πως θάταν ο σωτήρας τους, μια αγάπη να αλλάξει τη ζωή τους, (και για κάποιες από αυτές, ίσως ένας πατέρας για το παιδί τους!)  δε θάταν παρά ο βασανιστής, ο φονιάς τους (κι ο φονιός του παιδιού τους!) Πως το μυαλό να το χωρέσει;

Έτσι κατέληξαν στην Κύπρο οι δόλιες οι μετανάστριες. Για να δραπετέψουν από ντόπιες κολάσεις. Να βρουν μια καλύτερη ζωή από εκείνη που αφήσαν πίσω. Μια δουλειά, μια οικογένεια να τις δεχτεί, ανθρώπους να τους εκτιμήσουν, κι ίσως κι ένα σύντροφο. Μα βρήκαν άλλες κολάσεις. Σε μια χώρα (μια σταλιά) με πανίσχυρες συντεχνίες, που προστατεύουν πλέον μόνο προνομιούχους, κι αδιαφορούν με βρόντο για τους μικρούς. Σε μια τέτοια χώρα λοιπόν, είναι εύκολο να περνά απαρατήρητος ο χαμός (η εξαφάνιση, ο βιασμός, η άγρια δολοφονία) γυναικών. Πόσο μάλλον γυναικών που κινούνται στις παρυφές της κοινωνίας μας. Που είναι έτσι κι αλλιώς στα μάτια των πολλών, ανώνυμες, ασήμαντες, ξεχασμένες – χέρια που κάνουν όσα τα δικά μας αρνούνται πια, που μας βοηθούν να εξαγοράσουμε (με μισθούς πείνας) τη ενοχή μας για τα γονικά καθήκοντα που κάνουμε outsourcing. Σε μια χώρα με πολίτες με μεγάλη ευαισθησία σε θέματα εργατικών δικαιωμάτων, που αρνούνται να τα παρέχουν σε όσους θεωρούν “κατώτερους” τους! Γι αυτό και τις δανείζουν οι νοικοκυρές τις Φιλιππινέζες τους σε γειτόνισσες και συγγενολόγια όταν τελειώσουν το καθάρισμα του δικού τους σπιτιού, (Αυτό τους έλειπε άλλωστε, νάχουν κι ωράρια. Απαιτήσεις για υπερωρίες. Ελεύθερα Σαββατοκύριακα. Δικαίωμα ιδιωτικής ζωής! Λόγο σε ποιού το σπίτι θα κατέληγαν!)

Έτσι τις διάλεγε κι ο φονιάς. Γιατί ήταν ταλαιπωρημένες, τρωτές, ανώνυμες, περιφρονημένες. Χωρίς δικαιώματα. Απ’όλους ξεχασμένες. Όσοι τις αγάπησαν, ωκεανούς μακριά. Κι όσοι θα τις γύρευαν, κι αυτοί αδύναμοι, χωρίς φωνή. Κι έτσι λοιπόν τις είδε κι η αστυνομία. Σαν ασήμαντες. Έτσι κατέληξαν κομμάτια σε βαλίτσες στο πάτο μιας κόκκινης, τοξικής λίμνης. Σύμβολο της τοξικής κοινωνίας, της τοξικής Πατριαρχίας, του τοξικού ανδρισμού που δεν τις είδαν σαν ανθρώπινα πλάσματα, μα σαν αντικείμενα που θα εξυπηρετούσαν μια ανάγκη κι ύστερα θα τα ξεφορτώνονταν χωρίς δεύτερη σκέψη. 

Η κάθοδος Άγγλων εμπειρογνώμων για τη ανάλυση του “προφίλ” του φονιά, τι θα μπορούσε άλλο να φανερώσει απ’όσα ξέρουμε μέσα μας όλοι; (Όλες μάλλον θάπρεπε να πω) Τι θα μπορούσε νάναι άλλο από τον ακραίο μισογυνισμό του θύτη; Τι άλλο από την γνωστή αιτία: την αντρική ανάγκη για γυναικεία ταπείνωση, γυναικείο πόνο, κι εντέλει εξουδετέρωση; Τι είναι άλλο από το αίσθημα υπεροχής που αρέσκονται να εξασκούν τέτοιοι άντρες σε μικρόσωμα γυναικεία σώματα; Τι άλλο από τη θυματοποίηση του αδύνατου, που μετατρέπεται μέχρι και σε ερωτική κορύφωση; Κι ύστερα, τι άλλο από την εξαφάνιση των τεκμηρίων της ντροπής του θύτη, που είναι κι αυτή συνυφασμένη με ηδονή, γιατί για όσο παραμένει ατιμώρητη, επιβεβαιώνει ναρκισσιστικές ιδεοληψίες της “ανωτερότητας” τους (από το θύμα, τον περίγυρο, την αστυνομία, κλπ) 

Κι ύστερα το «Όταν την έπνιγα ένιωθα ωραία» μας φανερώνει την “έμπνευση” του, που είναι πιθανότατα τα πορνό. Τέτοια βλέπουν λέει στα σύγχρονα πορνό οι άντρες (οι νέοι, οι μεσήλικες, οι γέροντες, οι οικογενειάρχες, οι καθημερινοί άντρες που ζουν δίπλα μας, που μας διοικούν, που περπατούν ανάμεσα μας, και που ενίοτε (για να μην πω πάντα) μας κοιτάζουν κι αφ’ υψηλού…  Σίγουροι πως είναι κι ανώτεροι από τη καθεμία μας! Εδώ τοποθετείται ο πάτος μας σαν ανθρωπότητα: άντρες που εκστασιάζονται να βλέπουν άλλους άντρες να πνίγουν γυναίκες ενώ τις βιάζουν, πιθανότατα ταυτιζόμενοι μαζί τους, (και γυναίκες που το ξέρουν και δε τους χωρίζουν…) Κάποιοι από αυτούς θα ελπίζουν φαντάζομαι να τα κάνουν και πράξη τα όσα βλέπουν στη οθόνη του υπολογιστή τους (μια στις τέσσερεις Αμερικανίδες γυναίκες π.χ., σύμφωνα με έρευνες, έχει βιώσει το φοβό του να δει το σύντροφό της να προσπαθεί να τη πνίξει κατα τη διάρκεια της σεξουαλικής πράξης!)  Κι αν δε γίνονται όλοι κατά συρροή δολοφόνοι, και πάλι φυσιολογικούς δε τους λες… Αν έχουν ταυτίσει την ηδονή τους με τον γυναικείο πόνο, τον γυναικείο εξευτελισμό!

Το πορνό καθρεφτίζει έτσι κι αλλιώς, τη σκοτεινότερη πλευρά των αντρών – κι ας πασχίζουν να μας κάνουν πλύση εγκεφάλου πως δεν είναι παρα “αθώα” διασκέδαση, “εκτόνωση”, “ελευθερία έκφρασης”, “δικαίωμα αντρικό”, “πράξη χωρίς θύματα” κλπ. Κι ας έχουν πείσει κι άπειρες γυναίκες για την αθωότητα του. Τις αφελείς, μα και τις φοβισμένες. Αυτές που τρέμουν μη χάσουν τους εθισμένους στο πορνό άντρες τους, αυτές που τρέμουν μην και χαρακτηριστούν “συντηρητικές”, “κρυόκολες” “θεούσες” ή (μακριά από μας) “φεμινίστριες”! Γιατί τις έπεισαν τις κακόμοιρες πως είναι “συντηρητισμός” το να έχεις πρόβλημα με τη θέαση βιασμών και βασανιστηρίων …

Τα τελευταία 10-15 χρόνια πήρε η ανθρωπότητα στροφές που επιστρέφουν τους άντρες σε πρωτόγονες εκδοχές του εαυτού τους, και τις γυναίκες σε πριν το φεμινισμό εποχές, τότε που δεν διανοούνταν καν πως ήταν ανθρώπινα πλάσματα – πόσο μάλλον ίσα με τους άντρες. Κι ο λόγος δεν είναι άλλος από το πορνό. Αν το Ολοκαύτωμα ήταν η σκοτεινότερη στιγμή της ανθρωπότητας, ένα σχεδιοποιημένο σύστημα παραγωγής του θανάτου, το πορνό είναι στην ουσία μια μηχανή παραγωγής μισογυνισμού.  Εξίσου άκαρδη, εξίσου σοκαριστική, σκληρή και εντέλει αποτελεσματική! Ο κόσμος του πορνό, τι είναι άλλο από μια τεράστια αποθήκη μίσους προς τις γυναίκες, που αναπαράγεται αδιάκοπα επιβεβαιώνοντας τις βαθιά ριζωμένα σεξιστικές πεποίθησεις των αντρών  θεατών, θρέφοντας αδιάκοπα την πείνα τους για γυναίκες / αντικείμενα, για πασίχαρα θύματα που απολαμβάνουν λέει τον εξευτελισμό τους, αποενοχοποιώντας τη πρωτόγονη αρσενική ανάγκη τους για βία και θύματα. 

Τα πορνό ειναι έτσι κι αλλιώς ο τόπος που πάνε οι άντρες για να ανανεώσουν το μίσος τους προς της γυναίκες. Να επιβεβαιώσουν όσα η θρησκεία και τρεις χιλιάδες χρόνια Πατριαρχίας τους δίδαξαν (= πως οι γυναίκες είναι πλάσματα “κατώτερα”, πως δημιουργήθηκαν αποκλειστικά για την αντρική ευχαρίστηση, και πως η θυματοποίηση τους είναι κάτι “φυσικό”, όχι απλά επιθυμητό!) Είναι ο τόπος που πάνε για να ανεφοδιάζονται τακτικά με εικόνες κακοποίησης και ιδέες μισούς. Να πάρουν τη δόση τους δηλαδή, να χορτάσουν τον εθισμό τους στη θέα (και την ιδέα) της γυναικείας  ταπείνωσης και του γυναικείου πόνου, που είναι φανερό πως ανανεώνει τον “ανδρισμό” τους. Γι αυτό επιστρέφουν καθημερινά εκεί. Στο μέρος όπου απενοχοποιημένα γίνονται μάρτυρες (και συμβολικά και θύτες) βιασμών γυναικών κι ανήλικων κοριτσιών. Ταυτιζόμενοι με τα κτήνη που κακοποιούν ανελέητα γυναικεία σώματα και ψυχές μπροστά σε κάμερες, και βρίσκουν – είναι φανερό αυτό – λύτρωση από τα δικά τους κόμπλεξ για ένα ανδρισμό που διαλύεται μπροστά σε κάθε “οχι” γυναικών. Γι αυτό επιστρέφουν ολοένα εκεί. Στο κόσμο με τις αποδυναμωμένες γυναίκες που λένε αδιάκοπα “ναι” (γιατί δεν έχουν άλλη επιλογή, γιατί πληρώθηκαν για να το πουν, ή το πιθανότερο –  εκβιάστηκαν, απειλήθηκαν για να το πουν) Στο μέρος που οι γυναίκες είναι πάντα πρόθυμες, πάντα έτοιμες, μόνιμα υποδουλωμένες. 

Η αντικειμενοποίηση των γυναικών, η πεποίθηση δηλαδή πως κατά βάθος δεν είναι ανθρώπινα πλάσματα, μα πράγματα άψυχα που δημιουργήθηκαν για την ανδρική ευχαρίστηση, είναι αναγκαία για να απευαισθητοποιεί σταδιακά ο άντρας θεατής του πορνό και ο άντρας / θύτης σεξουαλικών εγκλημάτων. Για να αποσιωπήσει τη όποια συνείδηση του, να θάψει τη όποια συμπόνια του, να αγνοήσει την όποια ενοχή του, για να γίνει έτσι η θέαση σκηνών άγριας κακοποίησης ανώδυνη, (και για κάποιους το κοπιάρισμα τους) σταδιακά, εύκολη υπόθεση. Δεν είναι τυχαίο άλλωστε το ότι η στιγμή που το πορνό έγινε, 1) εύκολα προσβάσιμο, και, 2) απίστευτα πιο βίαιο, σηματοδοτεί μια κατακόρυφη αύξηση βιασμών γυναικών και παιδιών αλλά και  βίαιων γυναικοκτονιών ανά το παγκόσμιο.

Κι είναι ακριβώς αυτή την πεποίθηση που έρχεται το πορνό να επιβεβαιώσει: πως οι γυναίκες δηλαδή, δεν είναι παρά αντικείμενα, σκόρπια μέλη. Έτσι κτίζεται η συνωμοσία που επιτρέπει τη κακοποίηση μας. Από τη ανάγκη των αντρών να επιστρέψουν σε ένα κόσμο που οι γυναίκες είναι πράγματα. Σε ένα κόσμο που είναι ξανά υπόδουλες, υπάκουες, σιωπηλές εργάτριες του οργασμού τους. Που υπάρχουν γι αυτο και μόνο το σκοπό. Που δε γυρεύουν σεβασμό, δέσμευση, συμπόνια, δικαιώματα, ανταποδοτικότητα, αξιοπρέπεια. Γι αυτό και οι οι χειρότεροι των χειρότερων, στρέφονται συχνά στην εξω από το πορνό ζωή τους σε πόρνες, ή αλλοδαπές γυναίκες. Σε ομάδες απροστάτευτων δηλαδή γυναικών, αποκομμένων από το κοινωνικό ιστό, χωρίς σύστημα προστασίας. Γι αυτό κι ο θύτης εστίασε τη θηριωδία του σε γυναίκες που εργάζονται σαν οικιακές βοηθοί. Σε γυναίκες χωρίς φωνή, που ήξερε πως κανένας δε θα τις γυρέψει, να νοιαστεί, να σηκώσει θύελλες, να ξυπνήσει βουλευτές, υπουργούς και κομματάρχες για το χαμό τους. Γυναίκες που υπάρχουν στα κράσπεδα της κοινωνίας μας. Αθόρυβες, περιφρονημένες ήδη απ’ολους. Αόρατες σχεδόν. Γιατί ο χαμός τους θα περνούσε απαρατήρητος από την αστυνομία και το κράτος (που είναι φανερό πως έχουν την ίδια ακριβώς γνώμη με αυτόν για την αξία τους!) μα και γιατί η κοινωνική περιθωριοποίηση τους, τις καθιστά και πιο ευκολόπιστες, πιο επιρρεπής στα ψέματα του, μετατρέποντας τον σε σωτήρα τους (προτού φανερωθεί πως δε θάταν παρά ο βασανιστής / φονιάς τους) 

 Το συγκεκριμένο είδος αντρών τρομοκρατείται άλλωστε από δυνατές, ανεξάρτητες γυναίκες (που θα μυριστούν τις ανεπάρκειες τους από μίλια μακριά), και έλκεται στην ιδέα των εκπορνευμένων ή των αλλοδαπών γυναικών, γιατί θρέφουν τον αρρωστημένο ναρκισσισμό τους, την ανάγκη τους να αυτοκαθορίσουν το “αντριλίκι” τους μέσα από τον θαυμασμό, την ανάγκη, ταλαιπωρημένων, απελπισμένων πλασμάτων που γυρεύουν σωτήρα, και εντέλει και μέσα από τον εκφοβισμό και την κακοποίηση που θα ασκήσουν πάνω τους, να επιβεβαιώσουν την αρρωστημένη σεξιστική / ρατσιστική πεποίθηση πως είναι λέει “ανώτεροι” τους. 

https://society6.com/fanitsapetrou/collection/the-feminist-collection

Το αστείο είναι πως ο φονιάς οπλίστηκε και από τον ρατσισμό του στην επιλογή των θυμάτων του, και η αστυνομία έκανε το ίδιο όταν δεν θορυβήθηκε μετά την εξαφάνιση τους, μα βρεθήκαμε συλλογικά όλοι μας στο ειδώλιο από τα διεθνή (κυρίως Αγγλικά) μέσα, που δακτυλόδειξαν το ρατσισμό μας, εξασκώντας έτσι και κείνοι το δικό τους ρατσισμό εναντίον μας! Και δεν είναι η πρώτη φορά. Ο καθένας από μας έχει γίνει θύμα ενός υποβόσκοντος ρατσισμού, εθνικού, φυλετικού, θεσμικού, σχετικού με τη καταγωγή ή το χρώμα της φάτσας μας που είναι αρκετά «άσπρο» για να μη θεωρείται «μαύρο», μα αρκετά μελαχρινό για να μην θεωρείτε και ακριβώς «άσπρο». Άτομα κάθε λευκότερης φυλής (Ρώσοι, Ανατολικοευρωπαίοι, Εγγλέζοι, Σκανδιναβοί) που τώρα δακτυλοδειχτούν το δικό μας ρατσισμό, να μας έχουν (άθελα ή θελητά)  από καιρό καταταγμένους σε μια κατώτερη βαθμίδα από τους ίδιους. Γιατί τα ξανθά μαλλιά, τα γαλανά τα μάτια τους, τους το επιτρέπουν λέει. Κι όσοι μας κοιτάζουν αφ’ υψηλού, μας κάνουν και τους ίδιους να κοιτάξουμε άλλους από τα δικά μας ψευτο-ύψη. Τέτοια είναι η φύση η ανθρώπινη. Ο ρατσισμός σπάνια οδηγεί σε καλοσύνη. Συνήθως αναπαράγεται. Αντανακλάται σε ατέλειωτους καθρέπτες. Πολλαπλασιάζεται. Έτσι, Αφρικάνοι, Ασιάτες, ‘Άραβες γίνονται αποδεχτές του δικού μας ρατσιστικού μένους. Όπως εμείς νιώθουμε συχνά μικροί μπροστά στα αγέρωχα μάτια των Ρώσων, ή την ψυχρή ευγένεια των Εγγλέζων, και το χέρι τους που πάντα σε κρατά σε απόσταση, κι όλων των ξανθοκέφαλων φυλών της γης. Όλα όσα είμαστε, συλλογικά ή ατομικά να μη μετρούν τόσο όσο το χρώμα των μαλλιών μας, η καταγωγή, η «λάθος» προφορά, κι όλα όσα μας κάνουν διαφορετικούς… Έτσι μας βλέπουν οι ξένοι (μη γελιέστε) να παραπαίουμε ανάμεσα στα τα δύο άκρα του ρατσιστικού φάσματος. Εκεί ανήκουμε: στα ημι-καταπιεσμένα στρώματα της μέσης. Κι είναι γι αυτό που κι εμείς δεχόμαστε με απείρως μεγαλύτερη ευκολία (μέχρι και κρυφό κόμπλεξ) τους ξανθότερους από μας ξένους που έρχονται για μια καλύτερη ζωή στο τόπο μας. Γι αυτό και κείνοι γίνονται ευκολότερα μέρος της δικής μας κοινωνίας παρά μιας Βόρειας εξ ίσου ξανθής φυλής (βλ. Αγγλία / Βρέξιτ) που θα τους βλέπει πάντα σα μετανάστες, αντίθετα με το Νότο που τους εντάσσει με μεγαλύτερη ευκολία. Γιατί είναι λευκότεροι! Τόσο απλό… Κινούνται γύρω μας με το αέρα αυτού που είναι “ανώτερος”, παντρεύονται ντόπιους, φτιάχνουν οικογένειες, τους δίνονται σταδιακά ευκαιρίες σε εργασίες που δεν είναι αποκλειστικά χειρωνακτικές. Μα αν το χρώμα είναι σκουρότερο, αν η καταγωγή είναι Ασιατική, Αραβική, ή Αφρικανική, όλα τα πιο πάνω αποκλείονται αυτόματα. Όλα τα πιο πάνω γίνονται ξαφνικά σοκαριστικά. Δεν είναι τυχαίο που από όλες τις τόσες αγνοούμενες των τελευταίων μηνών, είναι μόνο η εξαφάνιση μιας Ρουμάνας γυναίκας που απασχόλησε τα κανάλια, πολύ προτού φανερωθεί η μιερή ιστορία των πολλαπλών φονικών. Η πραγματικότητα είναι (κι εδώ είναι που θέλω να καταλήξω) πως κανένα Κυπριακό κανάλι δεν θα ασχολιόταν να κάνει ολόκληρο πρόγραμμα για την εξαφάνιση της όποιας Ασιάτισσας ή Αφρικανής γυναίκας! Εκτός μέσα στο πλαίσιο του φανερωμένου πια φονικού τους. Λες κι αυτό από μόνο του τους έδωσε αξία… Το ότι πέθαναν με τέτοιο τρόπο. Όχι το ότι είχαν ζωές που είχαν μια αξία! Κι αυτό λέει πολλά!

Μα η αλήθεια είναι πως οι δράστες σεξουαλικών εγκλημάτων και γυναικοκτονιών, μπορεί να διαλέγουν τα θύματα τους και με κριτήρια φυλετικά / ρατσιστικά και η εξιχνίαση των εγκλημάτων μπορεί κι αυτή νάναι είναι επηρεασμένη από ρατσιστικές πεποιθήσεις ή προκαταλήψεις, οι δράστες όμως οι ίδιοι, θα μπορούσε νάναι οποιασδήποτε φυλής, χρώματος, χώρας καταγωγής ή θρησκείας. Ο μισογυνισμός και η βία προς τις γυναίκες, είναι ένα από τα λίγα πράγματα που συναντά κανείς σ’ όλες τις γωνιές της γης. Το ένα πράγμα που ενώνει άντρες από όλο το πλανήτη!

Κάθε τέτοιο περιστατικό ακραίας βίας, μας θυμίζει όλα όσα η κάθε μια μας βίωσε. Τα μικρά και τα μεγάλα που μας σημάδεψαν – τη εκμηδένιση μας που πήρε χίλιες μορφές, και που μάθαμε να προσποιούμαστε πως δε προσέξαμε – γιατί έχει κι η συνειδητοποίηση ψηλά κόστα. Τη λεκτική κακοποίηση, που μας μάθαν να την ονοματίζουμε “κομπλιμέντο”, τα ακάλεστα χέρια στο σώμα μας που μας έμαθαν να τα λέμε “απόδειξη αγάπης”, τις ικανότητες μας που παραγκωνίστηκαν, την εργασία μας που πληρώθηκε λιγότερο, τη ανθρώπινη υπόσταση μας που αμφισβητήθηκε από παπάδες, ανθρώπους – δήθεν – των γραμμάτων και εν πολλοίς και από νόμους και κράτος. Το μυαλό μας που κανένας δε πρόσεξε, τις ικανότητες που δεν θεωρήθηκαν εξίσου σημαντικές όσο το σώμα μας, τις σχέσεις μας που στηρίχτηκαν στην ανοχή μας, ή την ψευδαίσθηση μας (και που τελειώνουν όταν μας τελειώσουν και τα δυο). 


Πόσο τραγικό είναι το γεγονός πως τα αίτια πίσω από τις πράξεις κάθε φονιά γυναικών, κάθε κατά συρροή δολοφόνου (κινηματογραφικού ή αληθινού) δεν μοιάζει νάναι και έτη φωτός μακριά από αυτές των τόσων αντρών που κυκλοφορούν ανάμεσα μας, κι ας μην έφτασαν ποτέ όλοι τους στα Τάρταρα μιας τέτοιας ψυχοπάθειας! Μιλώ για τους χιλιάδες τρόπους με τους οποίους μας αντικειμενοποιούν οι άντρες. Για όσους μας κάνουν νάμαστε συνέχεια σε εγρήγορση, να φοβόμαστε τη νύχτα, την ερημική παραλία, το αδειανό πάρκινγκ, τα ταξί, τα μοναχικά ταξίδια, τους περιπάτους σε νυχτερινούς δρόμους, τις ματιές που μας μειώνουν, τα λόγια αγνώστων που μας πυροβολούν καθώς περπατάμε να πάμε στη δουλειά μας, τα επαγγελματικά ραντεβού που παίρνουν άσχημες στροφές, τα φιλιά που ήρθαν απρόσκλητα, τα ακάλεστα χέρια που μας έκαναν να νιώσουμε πιο μικρές κι από μυρμήγκι. Κι ύστερα το πως γινόμαστε όλες ξαφνικά ανύπαρκτες, ασήμαντες, κυριολεκτικά αόρατες, (αλλά και επιτέλους ασφαλής!) γιατί γεράσαμε. Θυμίζοντας μας, πως μόνο η λαγνεία ενός άντρα καθορίζει την αξία μας. Και πως η αδιάκοπη απειλή βίας, πάντα τη συνοδεύει! Όλα όσα η ζωή μας έμαθε για τους άντρες, πολύ προτού να γίνουμε γυναίκες. Όλα όσα μάθαμε παιδιά ακόμα. Όλο το σκοτάδι που αναγνωρίσαμε μέσα σε μάτια αντρικά, από τη τα δώδεκα μας. Όλες εμείς που το ξέραμε ήδη πως η αντρική προσοχή, τα κομπλιμέντα, μπορεί να κοστίσουν ακριβά. Γιατί κατά βάθος, μας λεν πως δεν είμαστε ανθρώπινα πλάσματα, μα η απάντηση μιας ανάγκης τους. Μας λεν με χίλιους τρόπους πως δεν είμαστε το μυαλό, οι ικανότητες μας, η καρδιά μας, οι λεπτομέρειες μας, παρά σκόρπια, ξεκάρφωτα μέλη με ημερομηνία λήξεως. 

Κι όλα όσα συνέβηκαν τώρα, τα ίδια τα φονικά, μα και η αδιαφορία των αρχών σαν καταγγέλθηκαν, οι δηλώσεις που μας ανατριχιάζουν μας φαίνονται και “φυσικά” σε κάποιο μέρος του μυαλού μας. Αναμενόμενα! Γιατί είναι μέρος της κοινωνίας μας. 

Της κοινωνίας μας, που η γέννηση αγοριών είναι ακόμα αφορμή για χαρά, μα και για μια τραγικά αναχρονιστική περηφάνια. Κι η γέννηση μιας κόρης, μια κρυφή ντροπή ή (στη καλύτερη των περιπτώσεων) μια λιγότερη χαρά. Στο κράτος μας – (βλ.#*3) (μα και στις οργανώσεις πολύτεκνων – βλ.#*4) που ακόμα βραβεύουν στη Γιορτή της Μητέρας, μανάδες που γέννησαν 6 παιδιά, ή “έδωσαν 4 στρατιώτες στην εθνική φρουρά”Λέγοντας μας εύγλωττα (πιο εύγλωττα δε γίνεται) πως παίρνει (το λιγότερο!)  6 από μας, για να έχουμε την ίδια αξία με 4 άντρες! Κι αν μια γυναίκα γέννησε 7 κόρες, (ή 12, ή 15, ή 20) και καθόλου γιους (η κακομοίρα!), τότε καμιά από τις κόρες της (όσες και νάναι, ΟΠΟΙΕΣ και νάναι!) δε θα μετρήσει όσο οι 4 γιοι μιας άλλης (όποιοι και νάναι!) 

Της κοινωνίας μας, στην οποία μέχρι πρόσφατα (και χρειάστηκε απόφαση Ευρωπαϊκού δικαστηρίου για να το αναιρέσει! (βλ.#5*) θεωρούμαστε σύμφωνα με το νόμο “εκ μητρογονίας των προσφυγών”, όλοι μας παιδιά του πατέρα μας, και όχι της μάνας μας (που παρεμπιπτόντως μας γέννησε και πιθανότητα μας μεγάλωσε και μοναχή της!) Πόσο αλήθεια ενδιαφέρον είναι το γεγονός ότι ο νόμος αυτός θεωρήθηκε εντέλει άδικος γιατί καταπατά τα δικαιώματα κάποιων προσφύγων, και όχι γιατί είναι απίστευτα, ακραία σεξιστικός! Μπορεί οι διάφορες κυβερνήσεις να δικαιολογούν το πιο πάνω νόμο σαν ένα τρόπο να εξοικονομηθούν κονδύλια, μα ένας τέτοιος νόμος δε θα γίνονται ποτέ αποδεχτός (και ήταν για 41 τόσα χρόνια μια χαρά αποδεχτός!) αν δεν υπήρχε ένα κοινωνικό τοπίο σεξισμού που να το επέτρεπε. Αν δεν υπήρχε δηλαδή η πεποίθηση πως οι πατεράδες, οι άντρες είναι όντως αυτοί που μετρούν. Όχι οι μανάδες! ΟΧΙ οι γυναίκες. Η πεποίθηση πως είμαστε παιδιά των πατεράδων μας όχι των μανάδων μας! (όπως ακριβώς και στη αρχαία Αθήνα άλλωστε, τότε που Αριστοτέλης έβλεπε τις γυναίκες σαν άδεια από ψυχή σώματα, που δεν ήταν πάρα “δοχεία” του ανδρικού σπέρματος και ούτε καν συγγενείς με τα παιδιά τους! Εκεί είμαστε ακόμα…)

Της κοινωνία μας, με ένα πρόεδρο που απαντά μια χαρά στις ερωτήσεις αντρών δημισιογράφων και στη γυναίκα δημοσιογράφο πετά ένα: «You are too cute» (βλ.#6*)!

Στη κοινωνία μος που οι άντρες ακόμα επιβραβεύονται αν όχι με προίκα (όπως στο όχι τόσο μακρινό παρελθόν) όταν παντρευτούν μια γυναίκα, τότε με σπίτια, αυτοκίνητα, εξασφάλιση μέλλοντος σε δουλειές κλπ.  

Στη κοινωνία μας που (όπως και σε τόσες άλλες κοινωνίας) ο φεμινισμός των γυναικών τερματίζεται αυτόματα λες, τη μέρα του γάμου τους, όταν το ρολόι τις γυρνά δεκαετίες πίσω, κι οι ρόλοι γίνονται ξεκάθαροι, και οι δυνατότητες ανοχής τους πολλαπλασιάζονται ως διά μαγείας. 

Μα και πάλι, ποια κοινωνία είναι αλώβητη από σεξισμό και βία κατά των γυναικών; Ακόμα κι όσες χώρες μας γέλασαν πως τα είχαν τα πράγματα πιο δίκαια βαλμένα, αν τις κοιτάξεις από κοντά, θα σε σοκάρουν κι αυτές. 

Η Αμερική π.χ. που φαίνεται να βάλθηκε να αναπαράξει όλα όσα το «The Handmaid’s Tale” της  Margaret Adwood εξιστορεί: νόμοι που μας αφήνουν όλους με το στόμα ανοικτό ψηφίζονται καθημερινά και πισωγυρίζουν τα δικαιώματα γυναικών πολλές δεκαετίες. Όπως νόμοι που επιτρέπουν σε γυναικολόγους να αποκρύψουν στοιχεία σχετικά με την υγεία εγκύων γυναικών ή των έμβρυων τους, για να αποφευχθεί η πιθανότητα έκτρωσης (ακόμα κι αν η υγεία της γυναίκας είναι σε άμεσο κίνδυνο!) Ή νόμοι όπως αυτό του Αρκάνσας (Act 45) που όχι μόνο απαγορεύουν σε γυναίκες να κάνουν έκτρωση μετά από βιασμό (συμπεριλαμβανομένου αιμομιξίας!) αλλά επιτρέπουν στο βιαστή τους να τους κινήσει αγωγή αν τολμήσουν να το κάνουν. Του δίνει ακόμα (του ΒΙΑΣΤΗ!!) γονικά δικαιώματα όταν το παιδί γεννηθεί (εξαναγκάζοντας δηλαδή τις γυναίκες-θύματα να βάλουν μόνιμα στη ζωή τους και στη ζωή του παιδιού τους, τον ίδιο το βιαστή τους!) Μα και πιθανότητα ψήφισης νόμου που θα καταδικάσει σε θάνατο γυναίκες που αποπειράθηκαν να κάνουν έκτρωση στο Τέξας. 

https://society6.com/fanitsapetrou/collection/the-handmaids-tale-collection
More from my Handmaid’s tale Collection here: https://society6.com/fanitsapetrou/collection/the-handmaids-tale-collection

Γυναικολογικές εξετάσεις να γίνονται  στην Αμερική σε γυναίκες που βρίσκονται σε νάρκωση λόγω εγχειρήσεων, για να κάνουν εξάσκηση μαθητευόμενοι γιατροί πάνω στο σώμα τους, χωρίς της έγκριση ή τη γνώση τους! 

Γερουσιαστές να προτείνουν οι άπορες γυναίκες να στειρωθούν! 

Στη Γερμανία έγιναν λέει μόδα τα πορνεία με προσφυγοπούλες από Αραβικές χώρες. Πληρώνουν σου λέει οι άντρες για να βιάσουν κοριτσάκια που κατεληξαν σαν μετανάστες εκεί, με την ελπίδα μιας καλύτερης ζωής . Καθώς επίσης και πορνεία με σκυλιά!! (Ναί, διαβάσατε καλά!)

Ακόμα: σύμφωνα με τα Ηνωμένα Έθνη, 200 εκατομμύρια γυναίκες σε 30 χώρες, έχουν υποστεί κλειτοριδεκτομή  / ακρωτηριασμό των γεννητικών οργάνων τους, με μοναδικό σκοπό να εμποδιστεί ο δικός τους οργασμός! 

235 εκατομμύρια γυναίκες, από 68 χώρες (βλ.#8) εργάζονται σε περιβάλλον που επιτρέπει την σεξουαλική παρενόχληση χωρίς να έχουν νομική προστασία!

Το πρόβλημα παιδοφιλίας στη κεντρική Ευρώπη να παίρνει διαστάσεις τραγικές, ενώ στην Αγγλία, να υπάρχει μια κατακόρυφη αύξηση (74%σε σχέση με το 2011!) σεξουαλικών επιθέσεων από ανήλικα αγόρια (λόγο της επιρροής που ασκεί πάνω τους η παρακολούθηση πορνό). Σαν αποτέλεσμα, ένα πέμπτο των ανήλικων κοριτσιών έχει υποστεί σεξουαλική κακοποίηση πριν από το 16οέτος τους (βλ.#7*)

Μεταξύ 2000 και 2014, έγιναν σύμφωνα με τον ΟΗΕ, 24,561,345 εκτρώσεις με βάση το φύλο (το θηλυκό φύλο εννοείται!), με μοναδικό σκοπό να αποφευχθεί η γέννηση κοριτσιών.  Πράγμα που σημαίνει ότι θανατώνονται προτού καν γεννηθούν 1,670,079 κορίτσια το χρόνο, 4575.5 ημερησίως, ή ένα κάθε 18 δευτερόλεπτα! Οι στατιστικές δε περιλαμβάνουν καν το πόσα βρέφη και νήπια σκοτώνονται από τους ίδιους τους γονείς τους αφού γεννηθούν, για να “γλιτώσουν” έτσι από τη ντροπή που είναι συνυφασμένη με τη γέννηση μιας κόρης, μα και το οικονομικό βάρος μιας μελλοντικής προίκας που θα πρέπει να πληρωθεί στον άντρα που θα τη πάρει από τα χέρια τους!

Κάθε χρόνο, 15 εκατομμύρια ανήλικα κορίτσια (28 ανά λεπτό, 1 κάθε 2 δευτερόλεπτα!) εξαναγκάζονται να παντρευτούν στην πλειοψηφία τους, ενήλικες άντρες! Σύμφωνα με το ‘United Nations Children’ s Fund’, 700 εκατομμύρια γυναίκες που είναι σήμερα ζωντανές υπήρξαν παιδιά-νύφες. Κι είναι ένα φαινόμενο (νομιμοποίησης  της παιδεραστίας!) που δεν αφορά απλά τις χώρες του Τρίτου Κόσμου. Στην Αμερική ας πούμε, μεταξύ 2000-2010, 167,000 ανήλικα κορίτσια παντρεύτηκαν προτού κλείσουν τα 15 τους (πολλές προτού  κλείσουν καν τα 10 τους χρόνια!)  91% από αυτές με ενήλικες άντρες! 

Το 40% των βίαιων εγκλημάτων που γίνονται στη Ρωσία, δεν έχει να κάμει με Ρωσική Μαφία ή άλλο οργανωμένο έγκλημα, αλλά αφορούν ενδοοικογενειακή βία, ενώ οι Ρωσίδες γυναίκες που ξυλοφορτώνονται από τους συντρόφους τους φτάνουν τις 36,000 καθημερινά !

Στο Πακιστάν υπάρχει το έθιμο του “Watta Satta” (“πάε / δώσε”) κατά το οποίο γυναίκες και ανήλικα κοριτσάκια, (μέχρι και βρέφη) χρησιμοποιούνται σαν “νόμισμα”για να πληρωθούν χρέη των αρσενικών μελών της οικογένειας, ή ανταλλάσσονται με άλλες γυναίκες ή κορίτσια όταν οι άντρες βαρεθούν τη δική τους σύζυγο – ή πωλούνται σε παιδεραστές!

Στη ίδια χώρα (Πακιστάν) 90% των γυναικών ξυλοκοπούνται καθημερινά από τους συζύγους, τους πατεράδες και τους αδελφούς τους. 

Παρόμοια φαινόμενα συναντιούνται φυσικά και σε άλλες ισλαμικές χώρες, όπου ας πούμε αν μια γυναίκα βγει από το σπίτι της ασυνόδευτη από αρσενικά μέλη της οικογένειας της, θα μαστιγωθεί. Αν δε, γίνει η ίδια θύμα βιασμού θα αποκεφαλιστεί! Ενώ ο δράστης θα παραμείνει φυσικά ελεύθερος!


Σύμφωνα με το παγκόσμιο Οργανισμό Υγείας 1 στις 3 γυναίκες ανά το παγκόσμιο έχει βιώσει φυσική ή σεξουαλική βία, ενώ 46 χώρες από τις 100 της έρευνας, δεν έχουν θεσπίσει νόμους που προστατεύουν τις γυναίκες από ενδοοικογενειακή βία (βλ.#10) (Για να το κάνουμε λιανό: σε 46 χώρες από τις 100, οι άντρες έχουν το νομικό δικαίωμα να ξυλοκοπούν τη σύζυγο τους!)

Παγκόσμια, το 38% των φονικών με θύματα γυναίκες (το 55%, όσο αφορά την Αμερική: – βλ.#11 & #.12*) είχαν για δράστη σύντροφο ή σύζυγο τους.

Ενώ το 81.7% όλων των γυναικοκτονιών στην Αμερική, αφορούν σεξουαλικά εγκλήματα (τα θύματα βιάστηκαν προτού δολοφονηθούν)  

Παγκόσμια, υπάρχει άλλωστε μια επιδημία βιασμών γυναικών (και παιδιών!), χωρίς αμφιβολία λόγω της επιρροής της εύκολα προσβάσιμης πορνογραφίας (και της σκληρής θεματολογίας της) που ανα-προγραμμάτισε το μυαλό των αντρών, με ένα συγκεκριμένο τρόπο. Στην Αμερική π.χ. καταγγέλλονται τουλάχιστον 1,3 εκατομμύρια βιασμοί ετησίως (αμέτρητοι πρέπει νάναι όσοι δεν καταγγέλλονται φυσικά) Η Λαϊκή Δημοκρατία του Κογκό, έχει το χειρότερο ρεκόρ βιασμών: 420,000 γυναίκες και ανήλικα βιάζονται κορίτσια ετησίως / 1,105 καθημερινώς)


Σύμφωνα με μια έρευνα του ΟΗΕ που διεξήχθη κε σε 12 χώρες, 70% των βιαστών θεωρούν το έγκλημα τους αντρικό προνόμιο τους, ενώ 40% δήλωσαν πως το έκαναν για να «τιμωρήσουν» το θύμα τους, και 50% δεν ένιωσαν πότε ένοχες, ενώ το 97% από αυτούς δε τιμωρήθηκαν ποτέ για το έγκλημα τους! 

Φυσικά αν ο βιασμός γίνει μέσα στο πλαίσιο του γάμου, είναι ακόμα και σήμερα κοινωνικά αποδεχτός (γι αυτό και δε θα δούμε ποτέ ένα φαινόμενο  #MeToo που να αφορά τις παντρεμένες γυναίκες, γιατί είναι ένα ταμπού που προστατεύεται από ένα σύστημα σιωπής, οικονομικής εξάρτησης και ντροπής.) Σε 10 συγκεκριμένες χώρες μάλιστα είναι και νομικά αποδεχτός (Γκάνα, Ινδία, Ινδονησία, Ιορδανία, Λεσότο, Νιγηρία, Ομάν, Σιγκαπούρη, Σρι Λάνκα, Τανζανία)

Ο βιασμός είναι φυσικά κοινωνικά,  «ηθικά», κι όχι απλά νομικά αποδεχτός στις περισσότερες χώρες του κόσμου. Θεωρείτε δε ένα αντρικό «προνόμιο»! Ο πρόεδρος των Φιλιππίνων Rodrico Détente,  π.χ., δήλωσε το 2016 ότι όποιος στρατιώτης βιάσει τουλάχιστον 3 γυναίκες, θάχε τη πλήρη υποστήριξη του! (βλ#13β*) Έχει άλλωστε δηλώσει πολλά τέτοια (βλ.#13*και #14*#15 – αυτά άφηναν πίσω τους οι κακόμοιρες οι Φιλιππινέζες. Από αυτό το κόσμο δραπέτευσαν, αυτά γύρευαν να ξεχάσουν και στράφηκαν σε ένα Βουλγαρο/ Κύπριο στα dating sites.  Που να ήξεραν οι κακόμοιρες πως θα έβρισκαν και χειρότερα…) 

Η αλήθεια είναι ότι ο κόσμος ολόκληρος, είναι ένας τόπος επικίνδυνος για τις γυναίκες. Κι όσο κι αν είναι εύκολο, παρηγορητικό να λέμε πως κάθε αποτρόπαιο έγκλημα ενάντιων τους είναι “τυχαίο”, μεμονωμένο, ή πράξη που έχει να κάμει με συγκεκριμένα ψυχολογικά προβλήματα ενός συγκεκριμένου δράστη, κλπ, η αλήθεια είναι πως οι αριθμοί μας λεν άλλα: πως είναι στοχευμένη βία, που γεννιέται από ένα μίσος προς τις γυναίκες, το οποίο τρέφεται συστηματικά και για γενιές, από όλες τις πατριαρχικές θρησκείες, και στις μέρες μας το πορνό, τη ποπ κουλτούρα, τα νομικά συστήματα όλων των χωρών της γης, που όλα μαζί οπλίζουν τους δράστες καθημερινά με ιδέες βίας και εντέλει και με άλλοθι.

Ο κόσμος ολόκληρος είναι ένα καζάνι βίας κατά των γυναικών, ένα καζάνι μισογυνισμού που βράζει, κι είναι έτοιμο να εκραγεί (κι ας κάνουμε πως δε το βλέπουμε). Γι αυτό και το κάθε θύμα αντρικής βίας είναι αδελφή μας. Ο πόνος της δικός μας. Και το μίσος που στράφηκε ενάντια της, ως ένα βαθμό, γνώριμο στις περισσότερες από εμάς.  

Πόσο τραγικό είναι το γεγονός πως  παρόλες τις αμέτρητες και καλά τεκμηριωμένες αποδείξεις που έχουμε για τη μαζική βία που εξασκούν οι άντρες ανά το παγκόσμιο προς τις γυναίκες, η λέξη “μισογυνισμός” θεωρείται σαν μια υπερβολική αντίδραση, ενώ η απλή αναφορά σε τεκμηριωμένες στατιστικές που το αποδεικνύουν, χαρακτηρίζεται αυτόματα σαν “μισανδρία”; Η προσπάθεια ασημαντοποίησης των αποδείξεων της αντρικής βίας, φανερώνει πως εξακολουθούμε να ζούμε σε ένα κόσμο που την προστατεύει σαν ένα αντρικό προνόμιο! Και όλες οι λεπτομέρειες του συγκεκριμένου εγκλήματος και της αντιμετώπισης του από κράτος και αστυνομία, μας το αποδεικνύουν για άλλη μια φορά…

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19 Μάη 2019. Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorised use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications.

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ART by Fanitsa Petrou: http://www.fanitsa-petrou.com

Διαβάστε επίσης:

Η Γενιά του Κοριτσιού με το Μουστάκι”

Από τον Hitchcock στο Game of Thrones”

“Η Νέα Τάξη”

The Cold Reality of Numbers”

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Posted in Feminist Posts, In Greek | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Comments Off on Στο Πάτο της Κόκκινης Λίμνης – Ο serial Killer της Κύπρου

Rituals and Rings

 Rituals and Rings

That Old Marriage Trap – Part 3

(Art & Words by Fanitsa Petrou)

Maybe those marriages wouldn’ t have lasted for so long, if the little grandmothers had a little money in their name… 

Love, romance, sex, intimacy, connection, companionship, loyalty, commitment, monogamy, trusting relationships that promise to last a lifetime? There is nothing wrong with them. In fact they are desirable by most women – yes, even feminists! But add some heavy doses of religious sexism and patriarchal cruelty in the mix, as well as a bunch of enforced, one-sided obligations and sacrifices which are mostly required of women – the less privileged one of the two parties involved – and all joy is taken out of such wonderful things. 

I’m well aware of the fact that sure, #NotAllMarriages are like that (and I’m daily being told that by commentators on social media, even more often than I’m being told that #NotAllMen are like “that”). But the thing is, most are! And we need to be talking about it! Being critical of marriage is not  – contrary to popular belief – equated with misandry or a fear of commitment. By the way, isn’t the commitment that you have for a man you love, and with whom you share your life (if not your home) without the need of joint accounts (and because of that, enforced sexual “obligations”) stronger? When the things that bind you together are not money, religious, social and legal duties, tax cuts, shared mortgages and in insurances, signed contracts and the fear that you will be left destitute if he leaves you, but what you actually feel for each other? When the moments of intimacy you share are related to your love and desire for your guy, NOT your need to survive (or live in luxury)? How come, even in the Western World, we still tend to see non-spousal, long-term, monogamous relationships, as less important than spousal ones? Why don’ t we see them as a higher, more evolved form of union, because both parties are there because they want to, instead of have to? 

And while we are at it: how come we also still find it hard to acknowledge a heterosexual woman’ s right to remain both unmarried and single, if that’ s what works best for her? In a world that is gradually becoming more tolerant towards people of different sexual preferences, how about we start seeing single, heterosexual women (on many levels, still the most contemptible of social demographics, one that it goes without saying, has no support groups in its corner), as having an equal right to have a say in the way they want to live their lives? But of course that would mean that we would finally face women as actually equal to men, instead of, you know, created for their pleasure… Their usefulness to them being the thing that defines them as worthy of living. And the world is obviously not ready for that! 

Also, when will we stop assuming that long marriages, like the ones our grandmothers used to have, are an accomplishment? Maybe they were based on nothing but their obedience, silence, fear, desperation, and lack of a feeling of self-worth; as well as their lack of income, power and options. Maybe those marriages wouldn’ t have lasted for so long, if the little grandmothers had a little money in their name… 

In fact every single detail about the wedding ritual is an eloquent indicator of what marriage really means for both sexes:

VOWS & RINGS: It is interesting how we conveniently tend to ignore that everything about the ritual (let alone the nature) of marriage, is rooted in sexism. From the ring that carries some pretty serious patriarchal connotations, to the vows that used to ask women to “honour and obey” their husbands (of course in the Greek Orthodox Church, the bride is additionally asked to also “fear” her husband!) The “honour and obey” vows, are incidentally making a come back in modern-day America, now that an entire country seems to be marching towards a more conservative future. Men also still need to be proven to be good “providers” by offering a big expensive ring, which in turn is obviously meant to symbolically – let’s face it – bribe (as in literally! As in “BUY”!) their bride’s love (= sexual availability). The bigger the ring, the bigger his promise to support her financially, and by that, let us not forget, the bigger her own obligation to follow in his footsteps. The ring hints on the assigned by Patriarchy roles: he will be providing financial security, and she in return, will be offering her surrender to his authority, which he proves by the granting of the ring, as she, by the accepting of it. 

And yet, women are still bragging about their rings, posting endless photos on instagram and the like, with their extended ring-wearing finger, expecting other women to be impressed (still single women to collapse from jealousy, and married women to finally consider them as part of the special club of the “worthy” ones) The truth is of course different: rings and jewellery of any kind, which are still being considered to be the “perfect” gift for women, are of course that, because women were for generations not allowed to work outside of the home, inherit or own property. Not to be a killjoy feminist exactly like the one you hate, but I’ll spell it out to you one more time: even today, jewellery and weddings rings are symbols of a kind of legalised prostitution, as they were habitually being used by men as a means to sexual access. Which is to say, as a way to establish their sexual power over disempowered women, who in turn were indoctrinated by Patriarchy to see it as the highest form of compliment instead of an insult. Diamonds in little red boxes, are still the gift of choice for a guy who is trying to appease a disappointed girlfriend, or a disgruntled wife, (hoping to magically make them forget his cheating for example), or of course to make an otherwise reluctant woman to marry him. “Let me see the ring again” is a phrase used in movies on proposal scenes… Which is obviously meant to stress the point that even if the groom is not much of a choice, the ring might seal the deal. Perpetuating thus the notions that: 1) women’s affections can be bought, and 2) men have the right to buy them!

In short, jewellery, and especially wedding rings are Trojan Horses: they are exquisite, and wonderful, and look great with anything you wear, but they carry hidden sexist connotations. They have always been used to underline and perpetuate a guy’ s authority over his wife, who was not allowed to work, and so was financially dependant on him. For this reason, jewellery were traditionally meant to be a woman’ s nest egg. In fact, her ONLY permissable property. They were used to compensate her so to speak, but also imply she was to be homebound: a sex slave / maid who would exchange her obedience and autonomy for trinkets and the limited financial security they provide. A child who would be given a roof and an allowance and shining things, as an exchange for her body, her independence, or the right to earn her own money, inherit her own family’s property – or buy her own damn shining things for that matter! 

Jewellery were for generations of women, their ONLY safety net: the only thing of monetary value they were ALLOWED to have (hence their “best friend!”), which they could proceed to sell in times of trouble: like if their husband died, or left them for example, (or on the rare occasion they dared to leave him) since in all these cases they would be legally unprotected and left penniless! The same thing still happens today in most Muslim countries in which women are covered from head to toe in black chadors and Niqabs, but also often, in jewellery as well: they still have no right to own their own money or hold jobs (or be seen as human beings…), so they hold on to their jewellery, hoping that they will safeguard them against possible hardship and adversity (like for example in the case their husband wakes up one fine morning and repeats the word “divorce” three times and by that, be within his legal rights to get rid of them…) That is why parents and relatives in that world, offer gifts of jewellery to young girls, in an attempt to guard them against that time of potential trouble… The same phenomenon can be seen in the travelling communities of gypsies, who are wandering from place to place without country or home, begging or doing odd jobs, wearing their jingly bracelets and golden chains. Their jewellery are not proof that they have a lot of money despite claiming that they don’ t, but that that’ s all they have got in this world! They carry onto their very body the entirety of their fortune. Much like pirates of old times, who used to wear a golden ring in one ear, so that even if they died in poverty, they would at least get to have a proper funeral.

We may have romanticised them (much like all sexist traditions), but wedding rings were always meant to be a woman’ s only insurance, because she didn’t have any other! They were meant to be her “I have fallen on hard times / been deserted by my husband” last resort. They were her “funeral” money so to speak…

But “things are different” you might add. “Things have evolved! We now have rights!” Yeah. Kind of. (In some places. Occasionally. On paper. On the surface. Unless your country’s government doesn’t decide one day that you won’t from now on…) Even so, why should we hold on (so triumphantly, so proudly, so obsessively!) to a custom that used to symbolise our servitude? You don’t see black people walking around with a pair of thick golden shackles on their ankles, like the ones their ancestors were forced to wear when they were slaves, right? And you don’t see Jews getting modern-day versions of Auschwitz tattoos! Why would they want to do that, and evoke that time when their oppressors saw them as less than human? But then again, the age of slavery or the Holocaust are in the past, while Patriarchy, is still very much alive, still tricking women into thinking the roles it has assigned to them in order to perpetuate its power over them, are in fact a great honour and a privilege…

Even today, a big expensive ring comes with attachments: It is already from the get go, a pretty bad arrangement for both parties, as it symbolises the traditional roles of the man/provider and the woman/homemaker. To this day, even as women are working, and having their own money and careers, the ring still caries the same symbolic significance and sexist connotations. That is why there are still all kinds of rules about how expensive the ring should be for example, and the number of carats it should be, and how it should be the equivalent of a specific number of the guy’s monthly salary for it to be a sufficiently worthy statement of his love, etc etc. All that, still project the old notions that a guy is the “provider”, the one who holds the strings of the purse, and who is therefore allowed to make all decisions as the head of the household, and also (why sugar-coat it?) that a woman’s love can be bought: a man’s money gets him access to a woman’s body and she is fine with that. In fact she is ecstatic! How is that a good thing? Why in the Western World, are we OK with this implication (and the reality of it?) Why do we keep needing this? (Fuck that! Buy your own damn ring. It will cost you less in the longrun! In fact it will only cost you money… And if you can’t afford it, well live without it. Buy a nice faux one at a flea market, and call it “vintage” if you must, and go spend your life being your own damn boss! Which among other things implies that you will be free to fuck whoever you want, instead of whoever pays the bills. Or buys you a ring!)

PROPOSAL: The fact that it is the guy who is asking the woman in marriage, and not the other way around, says a lot: It shows that he is the one who has the main saying in this, the one who controls the rules of this game (his proposal often accompanied with “you deserve it”, you are “worth it”, or even “you win”, statements or similar, which imply that he is the supreme prize, the ultimate goal in a woman’s life, regardless of who / what he is, of course: being male is enough!) A proposal is something a man “offers” to a woman, because (unlike her) he is in the position to offer it. The position of power. And even when this proposal is spectacular and well rehearsed and it involves props and horses and dancing extras holding rare flowers, and a man who got on one knee, it still carries patriarchal connotations. It is still assumed that a man’s right to promiscuity is precious and pretty much God-given, and that is why his reluctant (and possibly theoretical) surrender to monogamy, is such a gift. That is why it is seen as such a big gesture! Because he has a choice! A choice a woman mostly lacks. This is what is being celebrated with those spectacular proposals in fact. This is what is being shouted with the rings that are hidden in champagne glasses, and the releasing of doves and balloons and butterflies…. And that is why women get weak at the knees. Because they were chosen by a man who, even if he is less than mediocre, still has all the choices available to them. And he will, still have them, even if he is 80 year old! Unlike them.

WHO proposes, is indicative also, of who has the power to choose a mate. And for countless generations it was specifically the men, never the – usually underage – girls who were passed like goods to complete strangers. Even today, a woman who proposes would be seen as desperate, needy, and pretty much pathetic. Or disgustingly aggressive. Because she is reversing the traditional roles: she is pretending like she has the right to choose, instead of just be chosen. Instead of just be passive and grateful. 

A WOMAN’S HAND: Even today, if a man asks the father of the bride for her hand in marriage, this is still seen as a sign that he is obviously a “good guy”, who is being “respectful”, and “traditional” and “doing things right”… As if her own say in the matter is not enough! As if women are merchandise to be passed from one master to the next! Not to mention: why aren’t mothers being asked a similar question? Why is this matter still being seen as involving men making deals, talking business? (The business of who is going to take this helpless female)

BEING GIVEN AWAY: Not to mention the tradition of the father (even if he is out of the picture for years) of “giving away” (just like goods) the bride. Even if we pretend we are not bothered by the sexism in that, why aren’t mothers the first choice? Since they have given birth to them and all? Even when a mother raises her daughter singlehandedly, she is not being granted this (albeit questionable) honour. Even in the absence of a father, the mother is rarely the first choice. An uncle, a brother, a grandfather, a friend of the family, are much more likely to be the first choice! 

And how about the question the priest, asks “who GIVES this woman into marriage”? which apparently bothers no one!! Why isn’t the groom ever being “given” into marriage? Why is he being seen (symbolically speaking at least) as an adult, capable of decisions, and worthy of autonomy, but not the bride? 

STAG / HEN PARTIES: The night before the wedding, is also traditionally – and quite tellingly – spend by the guy panicking about not being “allowed” to fuck other women after he gets married, and proceeding to fuck at least one last one, on his bachelor / stag party. Which is to say: a man’s “right” to be promiscuous is protected and excused, even as he is supposedly entering monogamy, so he will get to have a kind of sexual carte blanche hours before his wedding, which he will be perfectly within his “rights” to get to use by fucking prostitutes (after he “asserts” his masculinity by doing some porn watching with his friends possibly). The bride on the other hand, will spend her own hen / bachelorette party that takes place on the very same night, drinking with her girlfriends, talking about him and tomorrow’ s ceremony, having all kinds of romantic notions about the next day: thinking about the ring, the wedding dress, the hair, the ceremony, the flowers, the guest list, the centrepieces, his absolute wonderfulness, the kids they will have and the dogs they will adopt (whose name she has already chosen), their glorious ever-after etc, etc…  In an effort to (symbolically) even the field, she will probably then have some simulation of naughty – but innocent – fun, when a male stripper (who is possibly gay) will dance for her and her girlfriends, while getting out of his fireman / construction worker uniform (because pop culture assures us that that’s what all women fantasise about: dancing workers…) and she will be given sex toys and lingerie to use to please her future husband, who is – ironically – having ACTUAL sex with another woman at the very same time... And given that this woman is very likely a prostitute, make that: “RAPING another woman at the very same time” because he (or his friends) paid for this “right” exactly… As the night progresses, he will be facing dawn with apprehension and panic like a man on death row, (but not remorse for what took place), while she will be counting the hours leading to her “perfect” day, completely oblivious to what lies ahead. (And again, all that is seen as perfectly OK!)

While stag parties were created in order to give the groom one last go at a woman (any woman) before he ties the knot, (his impersonal, no-strings-attached-fucking being the equivalent of a last meal offered to inmates before their execution), hen parties are the answer to a bride’s need to pretend like she is cool with that. A bride of course does not want (or need) to fuck a complete stranger on the night before her wedding! She just wants to pretend like she is OK with her future husband doing exactly that! That’s what hen parties are really for: they offer to the bride the illusion of reciprocality so to speak. Not to mention they present her as the ideal wife to her future husband (and his now envious friends): as one who is unbothered with such matters. One who has the ultimate modern female quality: she is just the “coolest”! A woman who is denying him the right to fuck a stripper/prostitute on his stag party must be a real prude and a major ball breaker, right? And what man would want that for a wife? That’s like asking for it. That’s like telling him to change his mind about the wedding! (And THAT is why hen parties are popular. And stag parties still tolerated…. Because they are both eloquent indicators of the power structure within marriages…)

WHITE WEDDING GOWNS & VEILS: Brides of course, are also still favouring the white wedding dress and veil that have historically been used to symbolise a woman’ s youth and virginity, which has been considered to be, for thousands of years, a prerequisite for marriage and a husbands’ s (any husband’s!) undisputed right! Which again exhibits nicely that a woman in marriage, is above all, her body. Her value was once defined by her lack of sexual experience that would render her undemanding and pliable and easy to impress, manipulate and control, while in modern-day marriages, by her willingness to never deny her husband sex, so that the “marriage can be saved”. Since marriages (and men’s love), are still these fragile things that fall apart the minute a woman doesn’t wish to have sex on demand, exhibiting in this manner, that she deserves to be replaced with one who might.

WEDDING GARTERS: What can anybody say about the custom of the wedding garter? The bride proudly pulling up her wedding dress to cheekily reveal her legs to all the guests, so that the groom can remove her garter with his teeth! Bride and groom are becoming performing seals in front of family and friends, reenacting a kind of weird, public, mating ritual for them… And as if this was not enough, the groom then throws his bride’s garter randomly to his friends, who are fighting over it, and so that one of them will get to keep it! What the hell is that for? Proof of the groom’s masculinity? Proof of the bride’s coolness? (Because this is always a safe bet: when in doubt why a man is doing something totally creepy, just assume that he is asserting his Oh-so-fragile-masculinity. And when in doubt why a woman is doing something dumb, or allows something humiliating to happen to her, just assume that she is trying to be seen as not-a-prude-at-all). Is this done as a proof that he is marrying a hot woman (a fact that would justify his choice to be domesticated)? A hot woman he gallantly shares with his friends in this symbolic manner? Why would any woman be OK with this notion? Or with the idea of a stranger keeping a piece of her undergarments for that matter… And what does he need it for? And what does he do with it, once he gets it? Why isn’t every bride on Earth creeped out by such thoughts? How desperate are women anyway to prove that they are “cool” and hyper-sexual, that they are so easily tricked to go along with things like that? And when will they realise that every time they are told something is “sexy” and “empowering”, it usually involves them willingly objectifying themselves in front of random, sexually indifferent to them strangers? (And why isn’t “sexy” and “empowering” not related to actual pleasure or actual power only when it comes to women?)

MODERN-DAY DOWRY: In many places around the world, a dowry still needs to be paid to the groom, in order to take the daughter out of a father’ s hands (those daughters who have survived gender based foeticide or infanticide of course: that is, who were not aborted as foetuses or literally murdered by their very families on account of their “wrong” sex so that said dowry would be spared! (See:#6) This gesture also implies that the marriage “benefits” the woman more, and that is why her family should pay for it! Before we go ahead of ourselves and think that this is of course dated or happening exclusively in Third World countries, and has nothing to do with modern-day women, we need to be reminded that even today, and even in the Western world, where the dowry custom has been banished, the guy proposes and promises a “Special Day” for the ages, but it is still MORE OFTEN THAN NOT, the family of the bride who pays for it, or as it has come to be called (even when the mother works and contributes equally to these costs: the father of the bride!) (And again: We are OK with it!) This is of course – why sugar-coat it? – a modern-day form of dowry: The atavistic notions have survived, even if we fail to acknowledge the fact or become aware of the symbolism they carry: the father foots the bill in order to – symbolically at least – get rid of a “burden” and the groom is compensated for his trouble of taking it out of his hands. This also implies that the marriage is all about her: it is wanted and needed by her (and her family) more. Because spinsterhood is equated with shame, and female sexual freedom with disgrace…

A MAN’S NAME: Women are still more often than not, very keen on taking their husband’s name after marriage. Because it is still being seen as denoting proof of their commitment to marriage and husband. Studies have revealed for example, that 70% of Americans (men AND women) believe that a woman should take her husband’ s name after marriage, while 50% believe that this should be required by law! Another study contacted in 2017 and published in Gender Issues (#1) revealed that the reason for that, was “the belief that women should prioritize their marriage and their family ahead of themselves”.

The participants of this study were given a hypothetical scenario of a woman who often stays late at work. In one case they were told she was using her maiden name, in another that she was hyphenating, and in the third that she was using her husband’ s name. The experiment revealed exactly what we all think it did: when they were told that the woman was using her maiden name, her lateness was interpreted as selfishness and was seen as a direct disregard of her husband’s authority. In fact it was seen as a proof of her luck of commitment to her husband, who should be “filing for divorce for her perceived neglect of the marriage”! No other explanations required!

It is not surprising then, that the majority of married women still gladly give up on their own name (which is attached to their identity, their own family history, not to mention sense of Self) without much of a thought. Or that they still consider this to be a kind of honorary privilege! One they probably have been dreaming about, ever since they were little girls! Because that is what marriage is supposed to be: an annihilation of a woman’s past. An erasure of the Self she used to be. Most other ambitions, dreams, ideals are supposed to be left behind anyway. Or at the very least, take the back seatAs soon as women marry, they are expected to step into their husband’s domain. (NOT the other way around!) By taking her husband’s name, a woman is becoming part of HIS life, HIS family history, HIS bloodline. So that their children will be too. Because women’s lives, families and bloodlines (and eggs!) are “insignificant”… They don’t matter. They don’t count. That is why they are not honoured. Not to mention they are considered erased by their very birth: a son caries the family name and the bloodline, bringing a new branch in the family tree, a daughter “cuts it” permanently… Which is why a son’s birth, is still in many places around the world, a cause for joyous celebration, while a girl’s birth, a cause for lamentation and shame. Funny how we are OK with that as well. Funny how our knowledge of science about DNA, and genetic laws has not really affected the way we still view such matters about “bloodlines”.

Women are still required to follow the same Patriarchal rules and justify the giving up of their family name as a “symbol of love and respect” towards their future husband because on a subconscious level, they are seen as having nothing to contribute to their children’s bloodline! Not to mention their husband is to be appeased. He is to be shown “respect”. Lest, he changes his mind. Lest the granting of the still coveted “married woman” title (along with the rings and the wedding gowns) is taken away from them, and given to another… Because they know that as women, they are to him (and the world) disposable… A notion that was planted in their head by Patriarchy and which lies at the root of most ill-conceived decisions women make, when it comes to love, marriage and sex.

Which is why, when they will have childrenmost women out there, (regardless of place of birth, race, religion OR level of education) will additionally think nothing of giving their husband’ s family name to them (or even often, his first name too!) as if they themselves, never existed. Despite of the fact that they will be the ones who will carry these children inside their bodies, and they will be the ones who will feed them with their own blood and grow them in their innards, on top of growing an entire new organ (the placenta) for them, and then suffer the painful nightmare of giving birth to them, and then proceed to be – more often than not – the ones who will take care of them daily and for the next 18 years! We are STILL OK with that! We are still insisting that our kids take their father’s name! Even if the father is not in the picture. Or even if he is not even aware that he is a father! The child will still (“Ideally!” In the “best case scenario”…) carry his name. Because the alternative is a disgrace… A child without a father’s patronym, or (The horror! The horror!) with a mother’s own, is just not right! Because men’s names, (and men’s sperm) are still seen as superior stuff… Because men are still seen as “superior”. And THAT’s the bottom line! 

Which is to say, on a fundamental level, we are still living in biblical / Iron Age times, or at the very least, influenced by Aristotelian notions ones, seeing women as nothing more than “soul-less incubators” of men’s precious sperm… (see:#5

Well, it shows respect!” modern-day women are STILL saying (echoing their mothers, grandmothers, great-grand mothers and so on), as they are proudly defending such a choice – when a choice is available to them of course… What is it about men’s gigantic need for “respect” anyway? How many things do women have to endure or sacrifice, how many pieces of their identity do they need to get rid of, in order for men to feel sufficiently “respected”?!! And how come women never even think to expect  – let alone demand – the same from them? 

***

Rituals & Rings – That Old Marriage Trap – Part 3 – Art & worlds Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications.

READ ALSO:

A Saviour & protector – That Old Marriage Trap – Part 1 http://www.fanitsa-petrou-blog.com/archives/2617

Wedding Gowns & Lies.– That Old Marriage Trap – Part 2 https://wp.me/p7jQTY-Hu

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ART by Fanitsa Petrou: http://www.fanitsa-petrou.com

Links / Suggested reading:

#1: IwAR2vLVL56ZVo2LvvwRHJEgEcEFMfN67wNH0e40mLG8

#2: https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2017/11/171121121449.htm

#3: https://contemporaryfamilies.org/2-pepin-cotter-traditionalism

#4: https://contemporaryfamilies.org/7-fate-dixon-millennials-rethinking-gender-revolution

#5: http://www.fanitsa-petrou-blog.com/archives/1980

#6: http://www.fanitsa-petrou-blog.com/archives/2038


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Tough Truths – Ageing is Not For Sissies, Part III

We do need to stop allowing our looks and age to define us! We need to step up and face the mirror! Ageing is a tough deal I get it. You do what you need to do to feel good, but remember: 

if you have done things, (unnatural, scary things) to your face and body, involving fat sucking pumps, and one-foot long needles, and scalpels and botulism;

if you have spent every extra minute of your free time exercising as if you are a decathlete;

if you have willingly paralysed your face in order to stop being able to smile or show any emotion other than open-eyed bewilderment;

if you now have the kind of lips that render you unable to drink from a glass or kiss properly, the kind of lips that make people want to ask in alarm if you have an EpiPen on you;

if you have stuffed your cheeks with God knows what, in order to have that bee-stang “glow” that belongs in the Madam Tussaud’s Museum; 

if your eye-brows are so high up on your forehead that you look like you are wearing a Demon Kabuki mask; 

if it’ s been years since you’ve enjoyed a meal without hating and / or punishing yourself by starving for weeks afterwards;

if you have become so thin that you look like a walking X-Ray plate and one can clearly see the makings of your actual skeleton; 

if you have had implants and as a result you have lost all feeling to your breasts, (which surely defeats the whole point…), and you now look like you are hiding bowing balls in your blouse;

if you also have not just fake boobs but also fake ass and cheekbones and lips and tan and hair and eye colour and eyelashes and eyebrows and nails and God knows what else; 

and if you only remaining goals in this life concern your age and weight,

how about you just admit it?

And if you are dieting (and chances are, you ARE), how about you stop lying that you “eat a lot”? How about you stop claiming: “I LOVE food! You wouldn’ t believe how much I eat!” every time you go out to a restaurant with friends, (even when all you eat all night comes in a glass…) as if being thin because you are dieting is not special enough, and you feel the need to declare that it is effortless too, because it then renders you more worthy of your friends’ s envy…Which is, lets face it, kind of fucked up… Mind you, people who really eat a lot, don’ t feel the need to make big, public announcements about it. Eating, believe it or not, is a natural thing, much like breathing. You wouldn’ t go around publicly announcing that you “breath a lot”, right? Not unless you had a serious breathing condition and the breathing easily thing was an event!(ACKNOWLEDGE YOUR TURBULENT RELATIONSHIP WITH PLEASURE, IS WHAT I’ M SAYING!) 

And if you are walking around with the kind of high heels that render you literally unable to walk properly and you need the help of a man to get in and out of cars or walk up a couple of steps (which is again, symbolic!) , like you are an invalid, or Blanche DuBois in constant need of “kind strangers”how about you stop claiming that you “love yourself”? How about you stop pretending to be “confident” and not at all “afraid of ageing!” or losing some random horny man’s gaze? And how about you stop being condescending towards women who are actually cool with how they look even in their worst of days, while you are at it? How about you stop acting superior in the company of women who are ageing naturally (meaning without all of the above) and so still look like their own damn self? Only kind of older. And kind of uglier. And possibly kind of fatter too. Like Nature intended all along. AND FROM THE DAWN OF FUCKING TIME!

In short, each and every one of us wants to live in a world that does not reject us, just because we are no longer twenty. How about we stop doing it to our own selves too? How about we stop being so scared? How about we all become the change we want to see in the world?

The point is not that we don’t age, but that we ALL do. (Eventually) The point is not that ageing is “good”, (it is on many accounts crap actually…) but that is both natural AND inevitable. The point is that we should be allowed to age and we shouldn’t have to compromise our choices because of ageing. And the point is that we shouldn’t be ashamed of it! And we should stop pretending like it doesn’t happen…

***

“Ageing is Not For Sissies” – Part II” – 30th of September, 2018. Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications. Feel free to share on Social media

READ ALSO: “Ageing is Not For Sissies”,  Part II –The Woman in the Mirror

ART & words by Fanitsa Petrou: http://www.fanitsa-petrou.com

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Beauty Works (“Ageing is Not For Sissies” – Part I)

Beauty Works

“Ageing is Not For Sissies” – Part I

Art & Words by Fanitsa Petrou

Digital artists are recruited in order to eliminate such “flaws” from actresses, keeping that face “bankable” and the illusion (and everyday women’s self-loathing) perpetually alive… All, for the sake of demonising maturity, and perpetuating unrealistic ideals of female beauty (and keeping the self esteem of everyday women, plunged into abysmal depths).

In the words of the immortal Betty Davis: “Ageing is not for sissies!” Meaning, it takes guts and stamina and an uterus made of titanium, in order to look at your self in the mirror, and see that your looks are gone, or in any case are on their way, and not fall apart. (And then panic and start looking for plastic surgeons and gyms and a good carb-free diet).

We all age, but of course it is the only a woman’s ageing that’s a tragedy. It is  only a woman’s age that diminishes her status and tarnishes her own sense of self with each passing year. It is only women who have much more to lose as they are forced to make the conforming to marketable standards of female beauty their life’s secret purpose, and their gender’s destiny.

Celebrities are faced with an even tougher deal of course, as their livelihood depends on their looks and age, even more than the rest of us. A telling example of that, is the singer Adele, singing at 27, “I’m so mad I’m getting old”! Critics have pointed out that she is too young to feel so old, but if you were born in a woman’s body, you know EXACTLY what she means. You already know that this is what being a woman is about: being made to feel old (or at least on your way), even when you are in your late twenties! Being made to feel like you are past that perfect “prime”. And that there’s already an “EXIT” sign in neon light, flashing ominously in front you. A woman’s age, being forever disadvantageously compared with her early twenties, (hers, and every other woman’s on Earth), “ageing”, being the most unpardonable of her sins. Even if she is hardly 30…  It is no wonder for example, that two of the top selling female artists, both felt the need to let us know how young they are, in the title of their albums: Taylor Swift’s “1989”, is named after the year in which she was born; Adele’s own last album was “25”, her age when she started recording it (as were her first albums: “19” and “21”). Miley Cyrusanother young pop princess, did the same with her song “23 which was also coincidentally her then current age! It’s a common enough trend among female singers. The same thing was done back  in 1998, by another, then very young female artist – Alanis Morissette – who after her first brilliant album, felt the need to let us know in her second one, that she was still very young: she actually sings somewhere “Do you realise guys that I was born in 1974?”(making sure we all knew she was just 24)

Isn’t it sad? Men in their twenties feel like they are immortal (hell, they feel that in their 70s too…) Women in their twenties, (talented, intelligent, highly accomplished and successful women at the top of their profession), are already panicking about ageing, and are forced to become painfully aware that a dreaded expiration date awaits a few steps down the way. That is why they want to let the world know: “Hey I’m still young”, (which means“I’m still legit”, which translates as “still fuckable”) “Have you noticed?! Please, please, Oh my God! PLEAAAASE notice!!!”

Their fear that they will not be given a fair chance to continue working in their chosen profession for long, is actually, sadly, reality-based. The singer/songwriter Sia was in 2016 the true rarity of a female artist over 40 to have a song (“Cheap Thrills”) at No.1! The last time this has happened was back in 2000, when Madonna (then 42) had a No1. (her 12th) with the song “Music”. A female artist topping the Billboard Hot 100 for the FIRST time (like in the case of Sia) while she is over 40, is an even rarer deal! The last time it happened, was back in 1989, when Bette Midler (then 43) scored this rare victory with  “Wind Beneath My Wings.” It took 27 whole years for this to be repeated… (Meanwhile the Rolling Stones are still being celebrated for their “youthful spirit…”)

Ours is a cruel, unforgiving world, for any woman over 40… Which explains why so many women out there are so scared of being open about their age and especially, their ageing… Last year for example, when I turned fifty, I’ve written an article about what it means, what it feels like, how it gradually changes your body, your perspective (if not your life), and what I feel I’ve lost because of that. After I’ve posted it, friends were repeatedly telling me that 1) I was “very brave”, and 2) I must be “mad”. Because apparently you are not supposed to reveal how old you are (Not publicly! Not voluntarily!) and if you do, then you are most definitely not supposed to admit that you are “ageing”, as in having aches and pains, noticing changes in your face and body, or in the way you interact with men, and so on) And if you do any of that, then it is obviously an act of bravery or one of self-destructive madness…. Because you are not supposed to be honest about such things, right? Not if you are a woman. That’s just dangerous. Because it makes people take notice that you are indeed ageing. The world after all expects you to be perpetually stuck in your twenties: being perky, and sunny, and naive, and more importantly, sexually inexperienced, and looking (and thinking) like a teenager pretty much! The world has no place for middle aged women or god forbid women over 50! And it has no patience for the complexity they carry either.

Ageing may be “forbidden” to women but none of us (male or female) are of course immune to it. If you have ever binge watched any TV show that lasted like 7+ years (and was aired prior to 2014 when “Beauty Works” became common – see below), you get to see even actors and actresses (which is to say, pampered millionaires, who have access to exclusive and insanely expensive beauty therapies and personal dieticians, and chefs  and trainers and whatnot) age before your very eyes in the span of the few days your binge watching lasts. It is actually quite unnerving. They may get thinner and add on the muscle tone in the last seasons, as their panic about ageing increases with each passing year, and they may slowly (and predictably) become unrecognisable by botox and plastic surgery, but underneath it all, they change as much as the rest of us. Which goes to show you… For the same reason younger actors turn from kids to teenagers, and from teenagers to young adults before our very eyes too. That’s just how time works, and there’s nothing more natural or more predictable than that: time passes, we grow up, we grow old, we age, which is to say, we change. Every single cells in our body will in seven years’s time be replaced. Not one single cell will survive beyond that seven-year threshold. Everything continuously changes. And yet we are surprised, shocked, caught unprepared when we come face to face to it… And we fight manically to stop it. As if we can…

Actually the prematurely wrinkled face of middle aged (or even much younger) women – whether they are celebrities, or not – is the price they pay for excessive dieting. Never before in the history of humanity (outside of war and famine that is) was the emaciated female body so common, or seen as actually the norm. A thin one? Sure! Since the 70s at least. But never before was the almost anorexic female figure celebrated as the ideal (and only truly permissible) female form, and never before were wrinkles actually seen as a worthy price to be paid for it. Never before were that many women basing their sense of accomplishment so much on the fact that they are wearing children’s sizes. Never before were women thrilled to have “thigh gaps”, not because they were born that way, but because there’s hardly any flesh on their legs… Or be worthy of the latest trend, that of “Rib Cage bragging”, (the more rids a woman shows, the more she earns the right to “brag”… Yes, we have come to that!)

Wanting to be THIS thin, is frankly a sick development (yes, even if it IS often masked – ironically – as the “healthy choice” that keeps “obesity” at bay, as if these are the only two options available: anorexia or obesity) that actually goes against the natural course of life. Especially as we get older. The thing is, the minute most women turn 45, and their hormonal balance is starting to change, Nature brazenly steps in and says “OK, No worries. Here’s a few extra kilos. My gift to you. Dare refuse it, and your face will pay the price, OK?” She might as well have added “And you will be needing those weird face fillers in no time”. Who was the French diva who said something along those lines? (Was it Deneuve or Signoret?) Namely that after a certain age, you have to choose either “face or ass”. You just can’t have both… And most women now-a-days do choose “ass” don’t they? Because they know it in the heart of hearts that within our porn culture, they are just bodies to the eyes of men. Faces don’t matter, as long as bodies are fuckable… There’s a pretty scary symbolism in that, actually…

But acting is a cruel profession for women especially isn’t it? Their presence in movies, being still largely a “decorative” one. The meaty roles, the complex roles are still after all, being given to men (as well as the high fees). Regardless of their talent, female stars are mostly seen  in movies as sex objects. As distractions, or glorified cheerleaders of the hero’s journey. And then, (before they are old enough for it to be justifiable), as mothers and grandmothers. And it starts early: actresses in their twenties are routinely being paired off with actors in the forties. And by the time they are in their forties themselves, they become the love interest  of octogenarians. Most of them are pushed off the screen so that freshed-faced younger actresses will be given the on screen chance to sleep with more ageing leading men. Elderly actors on the contrary, can be seen as the love interest of young women in their early twenties, and while in their seventies can still take action-hero roles, but most actresses in their forties (or even mid thirties) are seen as well pass their  “prime”.  The actress Maggie Gyllenhaal for example, famously revealed that she was seen as “over the hill” at 37 (!) and told that she is “too old” to play the lover of a 55 year old man!!!

On a similar note, where are the great female stars of the 90s? Why haven’t they continued to be part of the movie industry – in age appropriate roles? Most of them had a five year run as leading ladies and then ( as soon as they stopped looking like girls) disappeared into obscurity, while the male actors of the same generation, remained active, their fame, relevance and cache being increased with each passing year.

Of course it is a problem as old as Hollywood (or possibly, Time…) Men’s age doesn’t matter after all. Only women’ s: Harrison Ford’s return as Han Solo at seventy-three, in “Star Wars: The Force Awakens” (2015) was celebrated as a cinematic event unrelated to his age. Yet the late Carrie Fisher’s own return in the iconic role of Princess Leia in the same film, was of course centred around her weight, her age and her ageing: at fifty-nine (that is, when she was FOURTEEN whole years younger than Ford!) she was body shamed, and publicly mocked for “ageing”. (How dare she not look EXACTLY like she did when she was twenty-one when the first Star Wars movie was out, right?!) She of course didn’t take it sitting down. Being her usual witty / brilliant / hilarious self, she tweeted: My body hasn’t aged as well as I have. Blow us. Followed by, “Youth and beauty are not accomplishments, they’re the temporary happy by-products of time and/or DNA. Don’t hold your breath for either.” And elsewhere: “I swear when I was shooting those films I never realized I was signing an invisible contract to stay looking the exact same way for the rest of my existence.”

Hollywood demands homogeneity from its women (as our world does from all women). Diversity being more of a theoretical notion one uses as a way to promote a “positive” brand, or harvest Likes on social media, rather than an actual real-life goal. The movie industry, is still all about young, white, thin, busty blonds. Unless the cast has a place for more than one woman / side kick / love interest to the hero, that is. In which case, a black, or more often an Asian (very rarely a Hispanic) woman, or even a white one who is a few kilos “too fat” and therefore qualifying also as a “minority”), might be thrown in the mix, in order to fill the “social consciousness” quota of studios, and shut the politically “sensitive” bloggers up.

The movie industry demands an impossible standard of beauty and perpetual youthfulness from its actresses who are therefore pretty much forced to either take measures or else get used to the idea that they will gradually be pushed out of their chosen profession. That is why it is so common for them to attempt to hold onto their youth with expensive cosmetic surgeries. But even that can be problematic, as they are often ignored by casting directors for altering their appearances “too much”, and not being“themselves” anymore (never mind that being “themselves” was also being seen as inadequate…) That’s why so many stars of the 90s who are now in their fifties, are pretty much unrecognisable, and unemployable, ironically not because of how they’ve aged, but because of having gone under the knife so many times so that they wouldn’t look like they’ve aged (like it is in anybody’s hands…) On the other hand, actresses over 60 (or even much younger ones), who have exhausted all possibilities available by cosmetic surgery, are opting for “beauty work” (digital anti-ageing visual effects – VFX ) that can blur out their wrinkles, eliminating blemishes, sliming down upper arms, deleting jowls or dark circles under the eyes, etc.. giving them the kind of smooth face they had in their early twenties, and by that ensuring that they can continue to be considered for employment in their field. The illusion is usually shuttered of course, when you get to see them promoting the very same film on shows that can’t afford such VFX budgets.

Blurred camera work is an old trick that has been around ever since the 30’s, and there are modern versions of that (many actresses who are now in their 60s or 70s seem to have been slightly “out of focus” for years now…) Back in Hollywood’s Golden Age, vaseline would be rubbed on the camera lens or a stocking would be placed on top of the lens, in order to provide a more flattering, blurred image. Now-a-days, the so-called “beauty work” / VFX industry has pushed the boundaries even further. No wrinkle, no ageing neck, no blemish, and no bloated tummy, or drooping eyelid will ever again be allowed to be seen on the screen it seems (unless they belong to a supporting actress that is. Or men of course!) Digital artists are being recruited in order to eliminate such “flaws”, keeping that face “bankable” and the illusion (and everyday women’s self-loathing) perpetually alive. 

Nobody looks like themselves any more. It is a common knowledge, yes, but one that nobody is supposed to talk about, so when somebody does, it’s quite refreshing: A couple of years ago, the aforementioned Adele was asked (make that “fat-shamed”) by Anderson Cooper, whether or not she wishes she looked like “other pop stars and people in magazines”, to which she cheekily replied: “I’ve seen them upclose. Even THEY don’t look like that!” (Bless her for saying it!) 

This branch of the VFX industry is one that has been at directors’ s disposal for some years now actually, and has many other uses: from making superheroes fly, or Hagrid look like a giant in Harry Potter”ageing (and youthifying) Brad Pitt in Benjamin Button”, making Chris Evans’s figure look scrawny in the first half of Captain America”, enhancing Angelina Jolie’s cheekbones in “Maleficent”, re-creating a young-again Princess Leia in that last scene of Rogue One: A Star Wars Story,“humanising” Gollum in The Lord of the Rings, Toby the house elf in Harry Potter”, the fighting bear in the Golden Compass”, the green creature in “The Shape of Water, the apes in Planet of the Apes, and all kinds of other mythical creatures in these, and other Fantasy stories, to making Claire Danes’s pregnancy disappear all together in Homeland”. (It used to take an oversize coat and a strategically placed bag to hide an actress’s pregnancy, now it takes an army of digital artists). But it is also largely dedicated to dealing with “flaws” in actresses (eliminating signs of ageing, slimming them down, elongating their figure or giving them the kind of unrealistic hourglass figure found in comics). Or even (interestingly) undoing the disastrous results of excessive Botox or plastic surgery… (yeah, it has come to that) The practise is now so pervasive that any current show that is not using digital retouching (for example Girls”, “Transparent”, “Sharp Objects”), stands out, and is seen as “gritty”, and as making a “brave” statement (namely: that human beings can age, have “blemishes” and are not comic-book “perfect” at all times and all ages, presumably)Diane Keaton for example, may be, at seventy-two, the pixie of the “senior rom-com” genre, but only because the camera seems to blur most signs of ageing from her face. And this is sad, not because it is a “deceit”, but because it defeats the point film makers are supposedly trying to make with her movies: that older women can still find love, and do indeed deserve to find love – not to mention that talented actresses can still (much like their male counterparts) get leading roles, regardless of their age… (Well apparently not unless some trickery is involved) Her considerable talent, her wit, her likability, her legendary comedic timing, her timeless good looks and her divine and absolutely individual sense of style, are apparently not enough, is what we are being told… All that is negated by her age How infuriating is that?!! Hellen Mirren, Mary Streenburger, even sadly Meryl Strip (in the latest “Mama Mia” at least) seem to have been re-touched as well. But even much younger actresses are making this choice now (it’s I guess, a bit like doping in sports: when everybody is doing it, then anyone who wants to stay in the game is “forced” to walk down the same treacherous path). Sutton Foster’s beautiful (and by no means aged) face for example, seems to be smoothed out in Younger, so that she can convincingly play the role of a forty year old woman who is passing for a twenty something one, in order to get a job. Ironically, this negates the supposedly anti-ageist message of the series, in a very telling manner, telling us that the only way a middle aged woman can be mistaken for a 20+ one, is when her face has been digitally altered.

“Beauty work” is a process that is now budgeted into most shows, films and music videos and has become quite commonplace, (as commonplace as heavily Photoshoped photos of celebrities for magazines, are). All, for the sake of demonising maturity, and perpetuating unrealistic ideas of female beauty (and keeping the self esteem of everyday women, plunged into abysmal depths, and by that placing into the hands of men a pretty considerable power…) 

It’s a cruel double standard of course that does not touch men. Did anyone ever cared about or went into any kind of lengths to hide Clint Eastwood’s wrinkles for example? Did his ageing ever put a stop to his long career? Was he ever seen as less of an artist, (less talented, less worthy of respect, less commercial) or even less of a man, because of it? No! Actually his wrinkled face has always been seen as the reason for those famous “ragged good looks” of his… (Yeah, when you are a guy, even your old age becomes an actual asset…

Stars who refuse to go under the knife, (or who simply dare release on their social media, photos that have not been altered by Photoshop and filters, for that matter), are being trashed by the gossip industry, and the hordes of commenters, for the fact that they have (like every single human being ever to be born), “aged”. A couple of years back, un-retouched photos of Julia Roberts at the beach (looking great by the way), were making the rounds on gossip websites which were passive-aggressively pointing out her age, baiting commenters (who of course took the bait…) An actress is equally criticised of course if she posts photos that HAVE been photoshopped. The same goes for plastic surgery: damn if you will, and damn if you don’t. Meg Ryan‘s undeniably changed appearance due to cosmetic surgery is seen for example, as the reason why she is no longer cast. Yet not going under the knife seems like a dead end too, since it can also lead to dramatic changes in a woman’s career. Often just posting photos without makeup (let alone botox!) is enough for an actress to find herself in the middle of heated social media debates and vicious criticism.

Any actress (like Renée Zellweger for example), who for whatever reason steps out of the limelight for a few years (which inevitably leave a mark on her, like on each and everyone of us), lives to see her return becoming the focus of speculation and criticism: if she had work done, she is told she no longer looks like “herself” and that’s a ‘”shame”. If she had not, she is told she has “changed” too much (meaning “aged”) A woman can’t really win this… Did anybody care about Michael Keaton looking visibly older in “Birdman” for example (his own kind of “comeback” in mainstream movies after some years have gone by)? The answer is a big, fat NO! Lauren Graham’s return as Lorelai in the Gilmore Girls revival (Gilmore Girls: A year in the Life Of) was also criticised by people on social media, not account of her abilities as an artist, but on account that at forty-nine (her age when the revival was filmed) she didn’t look EXACTLY like she did at thirty-three (when the first season of Gilmore Girls was aired…) Again, was anybody bothered if Scott Patterson (her co-star, who happens to be something like NINE whole years her senior and was wearing a toupee!!!) aged or not? No! Even if she did age very, VERY well, the fact that she was no longer in her early thirties, was enough. And the fact that she did not go under the knife is somehow also seen as not what an actress is “supposed” to do.

Like I said, damn if you do, and damn if you don’t… “She looks tired” becomes the code for “She hasn’t had cosmetic surgery”, and “She looks fresh” the code for “she obviously has!” and “she looks different” can mean anything from “she has aged a LOT”, or “she has had too much work done” to “she put on a total of three kilos”. All are used as masked insults of course…

The same goes for the rest of us: everyday women who can’t afford actual plastic surgery, are using all kinds of blurring filters and special apps in order to knock off decades of their face or body on photos they post on social media. And much like celebrities, they don’t know where to stop: they keep on “blurring” their features, until they are practically a vague suggestion of themselves as seen through glass-less myopic eyes. And the new “etiquette” is of course to pretend that you haven’t noticed it and you don’t know how they really look in real life, (even if you’ve met them just yesterday for coffee…) You might even go as far as telling them they look “absolutely fantastic!” and that they “haven’t aged a day!” Because it is the kind thing to do, isn’t it? And because obviously, there is nothing they need more. Even as they are declaring to “love their age!” Well, especially then! And it is kind of symbolic: the ideal contemporary woman is a blurred, unidentified, skinny version of herself. A generic Other who looks vaguely like every other woman who either has used the same blurring social media apps, or has had the same kind of ‘work” done on her face. We are becoming homogenized  so that we will fit in. So that we will offer an easy enough task for men to choose what is “familiar”, and “unthreatening” to them. Every characteristic that identifies us as a separate entity who has lived a specific life and has been marked by it in specific ways, needs to be assembly-lined, so that we won’t scare them away…(They do scare so easily after all! The mere hint of a personality, the mere suggestion of an individual, of a life that has been lived, of a more complicated or original package, and they panic) No wonder women are collectively turning into plastic dolls created with specific “quality” standards in mind.

And that’s the thing, right? The way women are being depicted in movies, TV shows, music videos, ads, magazines, comic books, video games, does matter! Because it affects our perception of what is “right’, what is acceptable, what is “normal” in our everyday lives. That is why celebrities have a certain amount of power to change all that. When they (out of a sense of professional self-preservation, if not insecurity or vanity) are opting to go for cosmetic surgery, botox, photoshoped photos, or anti-ageing visual effects, so that they can keep being employed in a sexist and cruel industry, we do get it that they are just simply trying to survive. And it is understandable. But when they go one step further, and smugly thank anyone who compliments them for “looking great” in a film (while they KNOW how come they look that “great”), or for “not looking their age at all!” or for “looking too good to be forty” (or fifty or sixty or seventy or whatever) they stop being victims of an ageist system and they become part of what has created it.

Celebrities being part of pop culture, are in a position to affect how women feel about themselves (and how men feel about women too), if not how the industry feels about them. That is why they need to start being honest about such things. Making pompous, self-congratulatory, self-helpy, so-called “empowering” and politically correct statements about loving their age”, “being comfortable in their own skin” doesn’t cut it any more. They need to step up. So that change will eventually come for the next generations at least. By pretending and grasping onto that compliment with both hands, onto that specific sense of Self, they are amplifying the message that comes from everywhere, that women are not allowed to age (and men are!), and that being pre-occupied with, and defined by their looks, and being deeply (and secretly) ashamed for their ageing is OK. 

I’m still expecting to hear one of these celebrities (other than the late Joan Rivers that is – and a handful of other female comedians) when she is being complimented for “looking great” in a film, to come out and say (even in the form of a self-deprecating joke, if not seriously): “Well that was not the real me, was it? That was a blurred / enhanced perception of me, created on a computer monitor by an entire team of experts”. Or when she is complimented for “still looking amazing for a fifty / sixty / seventy year old” she will dare to go: Well, I’ve had a ton of work done, and have been hungry since the eighties, that’s why!” 

Wouldn’t’ t that change the conversation in one single stroke? Wouldn’ t that be something? (I’m still expecting it. But frankly I’m not holding my breath…)

***

“Ageing is Not For Sissies” – Part I” – 14th of September, 2018. Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications. Feel free to share on Social media

READ ALSO: “Ageing is Not For Sissies”,  Part II –The Woman in the Mirror

ART & words by Fanitsa Petrou: http://www.fanitsa-petrou.com


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Posted in Feminist Posts, In English | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Comments Off on Beauty Works (“Ageing is Not For Sissies” – Part I)

Wedding Gowns & Lies – That Old Marriage Trap – Part 2

Wedding Gowns & Lies.

That Old Marriage Trap – Part 2

 by Fanitsa Petrou

 In the words of Cruella de Vil: We lose more women to marriage than war, famine, and disease!”

Isn’t it interesting that in pop culture, whenever we get to hear such rare, brave, as well as pretty spot on statements about women in relation to marriage, we only get to hear them from the mouth of horrible, (in this case puppy-killing!) she-Devils?

This, in itself, says quite a lot!

*

How many volumes have been written, how many magazine articles, how many movies have been made to convey the message that marriage is a woman’ s true destination, the source of supreme happiness and fulfilment which makes her life journey worthwhile? That it is the glorious, FINAL act of her life? (this alone should have made us suspicious…) Yet we almost never get to hear the stories of those who have consciously decided to forgo this particular, apparently all-necessary female goal, or their reasons for doing so. We are just not used to hearing that version of the female narrative. Most people wouldn’ t even know what to make of it. They would rush to characterise it as a sad tale of bitterness and rejection. As an aftermath of some deep unspoken wound. As the result of a bad childhood and an unloved life. As the reason for utter loneliness and desperation. The thought that a heterosexual woman’s lack of a husband may have been a conscious choice doesn’t often cross one’s mind. Married women especially, are uncomfortable with this notion. It brings questions and doubt, instead of reassurance that the path chosen was the right one. That what they have been told, was true. That their life makes sense, and it’ s the only one that was ever available. It provides the certainty that even if their life is not ideal, only pain, loneliness and desperation exist outside of the walls of their carefully constructed world.

Why kid our selves? For most women out there, marriage still possesses an allure. Feminists (“real” or self proclaimed ones), are often writing blogs, tweets, facebook posts or even entire books (which range from the apologetic to the defiant) about their own “feminist wedding” ceremony: how they tweaked this or that detail to make it less “traditional”(It took place at an amusement park. At a museum. At a back yard. In a forest. At an Arts & crafts festival. At a Yoga retreat. At a deserted factory. At some suffragette-related landmark. There was no priest. A yoga instructor wed us. An Elvis impersonator. My cousin.  My ex. I wore red and held black flowers… I wore a mini skirt, a pantsuit, jeans, a biker jacket, a clown costume, a Wonder Woman suit… We were parachuting, scuba diving, climbing a mountain as we were exchanging vows. A Death metal song was playing as I made it to the altar, instead of “Here comes the bride”. I wore a skull ring. A black veil. A goth choke chain. I will be hyphenating or even (hold your breath!) keeping my own name”, etc etc.

Yet, these “tweaked” alternative ceremonies are a bit like Christian female priests to my eyes: what is the use of them, in a religion that condemns their entire sex and continues to see them as inferior to men, not to mention as the very personification of evil (read your scriptures before objecting…) How is that progress, given that we are doing nothing to change the actual sexist religious laws and aphorisms, but now get to have female priests preach them back to us, adding insult to injury? Why do we keep being satisfied with these half measures? Why do we still play these games whose rules were written by angry misogynists with the specific purpose of condemning, humiliating, controlling and using women, and which to this day we are conditioned to obey and feel proud about it?

I don’ t care if the bride came on a “bicycle ridden by a fish”and Gloria Steinem was holding her veil while reciting passages from Mina Loy’ s “Feminist Manifesto”it was still a wedding ceremony. Something in her, told her it was not enough to share her heart and her life with the guy with whom she is in love. Their feelings for each other, the sacred intimacies as well as the tedious everydayness that keep a couple together and hold a promise you make to each other, even if you don’ t make it publicly in front of priests and judges, or while wearing a lacy dress, just weren’ t enough to keep this thing going. Paperwork needed to be signed to make it “legitimate”, to make it valid. Joint accounts needed to be opened. Properties needed to change hands. Tax reports needed to be adjusted – and tax benefits needed to be claimed. A bunch of witnesses needed to be around, congratulating, praising, raising glasses, making toasts, gasping, Aaah-ing as she was walking down the altar (or its “feminist” equivalent) in that white (or red, or purple, or floral) dress. Parents needed to be appeased, and smug married friends needed to be shown that she too can enter the inner circle. And above all, her partner’ s commitment needed to be guaranteed with legally biding documents, (because she knows it is shady otherwise…) She needed the bells and the whistles: the witnesses, the public declarations of eternal love (as if it’s in anyone’s hands) the lace, the ribbons, the centre pieces, the music, the name tags, the white linen, the whole planning of the thing that had probably given her life for a few months. And it’s Ok. It’s understandable. That shit is beautiful! Who doesn’ t love flowers and parties and gorgeous long white dresses that make you look like a floating fairy? But damn it, they come with life-long consequences (even if you belong in the 50% of couples who WILL eventually get a divorce, those consequences, unlike the marriage – tend to last forever) No matter how we dress it up, or what we call it, marriage is at the very centre of women’ s subordination, and we need to at least be brave enough to address the fact. To count the ways by which we voluntarily become smaller, in order to fit this so called “ideal” of the married woman. And once we get married, in order to make it “work” and keep it going. No matter what. At all costs. (Usually ours)

The bottom line is: women are sadly being seen as unworthy unless they are validated by the patriarchal institution of marriage, still playing the archaic traditional roles assigned to them as men’ s helpers / compliant sex providers, home makers and fertile wombs into which men will deposit their sperm and perpetuate their bloodline, name and property, and not as individuals. (If in doubt, take notice of the grim changes happening in present-day America: see:#1) Even as new versions of it are being introduced, (ceremonies without the religious sexist undertones, with no explicit promises to “honour and obey”one’ s husband (though sadly, disturbingly, it needs to be said that they are actually making a come-back in modern-day Trump America!!) marriage with the hyphenating of names, or an attempt to share household chores, child care and expenses and so on) is still a throwback, as it is still the child of Patriarchy and it still feeds men’ s need for authority, and women’ s insecurities, keeping them in their place – “safe”, “protected”, taken care of, financially dependant on their hubbies, and in their place. For women at least, it is also still one hell of an under task and it is still taking up all their energy, eating up their time, erasing most of their dreams, watering down their ambitions, putting down the fire that used to burn them alive when they were single, successfully diverting their gaze from real issues about civil liberties and politics, and even (as studies reveal) causing them to question the very necessity of feminism (talk about self-destructive consequences!), leaving very little that can be used for their individual growth, for the achievement of non-domestic, professional or political goals. Grasping onto Zumba and Pilates, and Yoga and Art classes and crafts projects and Self-help theories and Facebook, Instagram, etc, looking for that sense of Self that they had to sacrifice on that wedding altar. Keeping them busy. (Like Victorian ladies with their gardening and watercolours and parlour games). Making their husband’s pleasure and the never ending, and increasingly more urgent fight against Time and fat, their main concerns, the only remaining goals they pursue with any kind of passion. Pretending they don’t notice, or mind his cheating, abuse, or porn habits. Because they know it in their heart they are nothing but bodies to their husband’ s eyes. They are disposable, expendable. Easy to be replaced. And therefore, completely powerless. (If there was a way to harness the passive aggressiveness of married women – or the bitterness of unmarried-by-circumstance-not-choice ones for that matter – we would be able to turn bicycles into rocket ships and send them to outer space…)

Women within marriage are still being given something to play with, to keep busy, to eat up all their time and all their energy, that can predictably keep them away from where the decision about their own body, their reproductive Rights, their own life and the life of their daughters are being made. In the words of Cruella De Vil: We lose more women to marriage than war, famine, and disease!” Isn’t it interesting that in pop culture, whenever we get to hear such rare, brave, as well as pretty spot on statements about women in relation to marriage, we only get to hear them from the mouth of horrible, (in this case, puppy-killing!) she-Devils? This in itself says quite a lot! Even today, women who speak against marriage are seen as unfeminine, spiteful, cold, man-hating bitches with a chip on their spinster’s shoulders… Or possibly, lesbians. It is still to this day, assumed that every single heterosexual woman’ s singleness is a failure, or a temporary condition she wishes to reverse. It is just never assumed that for some of them at least, it is a valid and CONSCIOUS and FOR-EVER-AFTER LIFE CHOICE, they don’ t secretly, and desperately wish to alter! A single woman’s feminism is still not seen as relating to her desire to be seen as equal to men, but as a nasty side affect of her singleness… This right there tells us a lot!  About our place in the world, about the way we view men. And our own selves.

The truth of the matter is, most married women are just too distracted with their daily chores and their wifely duties, and their need to not contemplate too much on their life, lest they are faced with certain realities, to put a lot of effort in the Women’s Rights movement. But most importantly, they think they no longer need to! And they are also just not willing enough to pay the costs of equality: many of them, are just not as incentivized to see women earning the right to have a choice and dismantle Patriarchy because they have become part of it: marriage is a fundamentally conservative and Patriarchal institution that allows women to use their husband’ s male privilege, instead of waiting for God knows how long for the glass ceiling to break, (as much as it allows men to a no-questions asked access to sex) They for example, get to have the kind of social status that would have been denied to them if they were single, and they usually get to have the economic status that would have been unreachable to them in a world that values them and their work less than men’ s. Because of that, most of them just relax and put their “Fight Back!” /“Equal Pay” placards away. Not to mention gain the “right” to see single women as “outsiders” and trouble makers. They are also the ones who have apparently made it their purpose in life to keep writing #NotAllMen “Not my husband” / “That’ s unfair to men”, (and if they went to college: “That’ s misandry”) on the comments section of all social media posts about the countless variations of male violence, because they need (more than anyone I suppose) to believe that male violence, porn culture, toxic masculinity are a myth conjured up by “radical” feminists and bitter single women, (much like many White Supremacists think that racism or the Holocaust are myths). They claim that there is nothing left to fight for, because they subconsciously feel they have much to lose by joining their sisters who are still fighting the good fight. And above all, they feel the need to smooth the ego of their own husband / provider who is likely to take offence. They are (ironically), also usually certain that sexism doesn’t touch them…

By the way it’s Ok if the young girl in you, still need this. Still dreams of her wedding day and the flowers and the killer off-the-shoulder perfect dress she will spend weeks searching for in glossy magazines, and perfect little bridal boutiques with white shabby chic furniture that offer pricey cheese and grapes and tiny adorable cupcakes with pink frosting. It is Ok that you still need the whole shebang, but for God’s sake, don’ t call it a “feminist” thing. Be honest and say “hey, I need this! I need a break from my feminism! I need to step into the territory of Patriarchy for a while and play along. I have been dreaming about a big dramatic proposal and having a husband and a great wedding day ever since I was a little girl!” It’s Ok, it’s a choice. But don’t pretend it’ s something different than what your grandma or great-great-great-gandma did – if not for similar reasons, then for many, MANY of the same ones. We understand why you would want to defend this by calling it a “feministic” choice. And a woman who is a feminist, does of course have every right to have her extravagant wedding, if she can’t help herself, bless her. It’s just that it would be more honest if she acknowledged also that this is not necessarily an actual “act of feminism”, and she should not ask us to see it as one, and become co-conspirators so to speak, in her self-deceit: something in her, needed to mainstream her relationship, make it legally binding, and therefore somehow more acceptable to her own eyes and the eyes of the world, and – let’s face it – more difficult for the one who has more power in it (the guy!) to walk out!

And making men’s escape from marriage more complex, and therefore less likely to occur, has always been part of the allure of marriage for women hasn’ t it? Women were born into and FOR captivity. Everything in their upbringing, everything that religion and tradition and pop culture has taught them, is that they are disposable. They are just not special enough to keep a man’s attention or lust (never mind his love) for long. Everything around them feeds their insecurities, tells them they are not good enough (pretty enough, sexy enough, thin enough, curvy enough, young enough, fertile enough, easy enough, sexually “adventurous” enough). And it matters. Because they are also not socially, legally and financially powerful enough either, and so completely at any guy’s mercy. And because it places into their husband’s hands an immense amount of power over them (Not to mention it assures men that there is absolutely no need for them to evolve) It also ultimately prompts women to accept the very first marriage proposal they get even if they are not in love, because what if they are never proposed again? What if they are not good enough to entice another guy? What will become of them? Marriage will offer the reassurance that they ARE what they are supposed to be. Because they were chosen by a guy. They were validated (for the moment at least) as worthy of his lust. And that’s a big deal, even when he doesn’ t wake up theirs. That’ s what they were taught! (And that explains how come so many, many of them find themselves trapped inside loveless, hopeless, cruel marriages.

This particular status quo is protected by the very fact that divorce is a complicated deal. A guy can get up and leave when all you have is a relationship with no financial, social, familial, legal or religious strings attached, but it is going to cost him (in a number of ways) if he is married to you, so he is probably going to think it twice. That’ s still a big part of the appeal marriage has on women who have been marginalised by legislation and religious / sociocultural / socioeconomic institutions. That’s why it has always been appealing to them, as they have been for generations refused the right to work, inherit and own property, or have their own money or in modern times, get the same job opportunities as men, let alone an equal pay. Not to mention proper support by the State (any State!) when their kids are young and they can’t work.

Even today, if a marriage fails, it’s one hell of an undertaking: priests and therapists and marriage “specialists” and family members will have to be consulted, and if these fail, bank accounts will need to be uncovered, grievances will be aired, shameful sexual secrets will be made public, properties will need to be divided, negotiations and bargains will need to be made, in-laws, and lawyers will have their chance to chime in, weight in, be part of it. And then alimonies and child support will need to be paid and visitation rights will need to be established. It’s a whole to-do. He might think it twice… That is why marriage is important to so many women: it provides a security in economic, emotional, social terms, because nothing else out there will…

Maybe the alternatives available to heterosexual women who see marriage as a throwback, are not ideal either, as they all have their pitfalls: this living together with a guy, or this living alone but in a serious relationship with a guy, or this living alone and having no need for a guy, or this going from guy to guy. Maybe all these arrangements are also problematic. (As all arrangements among humans are) But maybe they are all somehow more honest, less restricting and less co-dependant in a manner that alters the relationship. Less shadowed by power games, emotional blackmail, and the need to control the unpredictable. And maybe they are all freer from the connotations of that old age-old sexism. From that obligation to be what you are not, to do what you do not feel like. For that old power game, turns sex into an obligation and women into commodities. There is in all of them, a greater room for women to move. To be. To evolve. (If they are up to it) All of the above variations were after all, only “allowed” to women when they started to gain more Rights. Feminism gave us the choice at least! (Why the hell aren’t more of us taking it? )

In a non-spousal relationship, if the two parties want to split up, things are simpler and because of that, gentler, less dramatic: one of them is possibly moving out and is forced to start again, the other is experiencing the emptiness of the apartment and the silences; one of them buys a bottle of whiskey, the other possibly a family-sized packet of ice cream (before they hit the gym to get their “revenge body” back that is…); one of them is cursing, the other is crying. Yet in time, they are both more likely to pick up the pieces, come out of the tunnel and start to live again. After that wedding ceremony however, when the two partners take the titles of “husband” and “wife”, if they decide they want out, things get truly complicated and messy: an entire – carefully constructed – organisation needs to be dismantled piece by painful piece.This could become at the very least a spectator’ s sport (in manner of Colosseum) or else a long and bloody war that will leave victims laying gutted on the floor. Special reasons need to be given, (“I don’t love you any more” never seems to be quite enough, does it?), witnesses need to provide evidence, holdings and china need to be divided and documents in triple need to be signed. Special professionals whose livelihood depends on this kind of cruel dismantling need also to be ushered in: marriage counselors and lawyers and judges and priests and accountants, and tax officials, and estate agents, and possibly even detectives with zoom lenses, shady morals, and time on their hands. That is why divorce is such an ugly painful business, such a shitty, gut wrenching deal that often leaves people who have gone through it (whether they are husbands, wives or their kids), marked for life.

Even the children of a couple who is not married and gets separated have a smoother transition. Maybe because what kept their parents together for as long as it did, was their true feelings for each other, not forced obligations and a social contract that involves shared properties and joint accounts and tax cuts, and inheritances and family obligations and in-laws and an entire machine of interested parties. This is about them and nobody (and nothing) else! That is why their splitting up does not turn into an opera with the two parties holding on so tightly and often maliciously onto what’ s “theirs”, accusing each other, asking the kids to take sides, and by that alone, scarring them for life.

The thing is: as long as gender equality is still unreachable, a “perfect marriage”as in a “union of equals” can only happen between gay people, because despite being prejudiced against, gay individuals are still considered – and are! – at least socially and legally equals to each other! There are no social / legal privileges attached to just one of the two parties! There is no one party having the upper hand so to speak. A heterosexual marriage on the other hand, in which both parties are seen as equal, is just not often encountered outside of romantic fiction, rom coms and every married woman’ s facebook posts…

No wonder Patriarchy and world religions had to dress marriage up, add all kinds of bells and whistles to make it desirable for both sexes: they promised men who succumb to it, warm meals and a laundry service, and being worthy of respect, and that precious, all-important“no-questions-asked-regular-fuck”! Not to mention unquestionable authority in their own home. (Even slaves who would be made to feel less than human, would still get to be masters in their own home, because they were considered – like all other men – to be at least superior to their wives!) And they promised women a “special day”! A day out of a fairy tale, with flowers, and ribbons, and lace, and fabulous white dresses, and adoring crowds and tall Champagne glasses (or the cultural equivalent of that for each moment in Time) and three-tiered vanilla cakes, and tiaras and veils and proud, teary-eyed parents, and green with envy girlfriends! (which is to say, the “stuff of female dreams”…) They promised them respectability (that would of course otherwise have been denied to them). They promised them the name of a man in place of their own. And they told them, “This is good. This is what you want. This is what makes you acceptable!” And they believed it. And so as girls, they started writing boys’ s names next to their own in their notebooks, trying out this borrowed respectability. Dreaming of it. Hoping desperately for it. (Having been indoctrinated to be complicit in the own devaluation from an early age)  They promised them scenes from a movie or a novel. Or possible an ad. Chopping vegetables together in a kitchen that looked like a “Home & Garden” centrefold. A man holding their hand when they get old, as they are sitting together on a park bench. Looking into their eyes lovingly, not noticing they have aged. (This is some pretty powerful shit!) And they promised them fat babies and golden Retrievers, and framed family photos on the mantel. They promised them their own home (well not legally their own of course, but still…) They promised them a yard with apple trees and a herb garden and patio furniture and a decorating budget. They promised them a purpose in this life (to serve their husband, cook for him, clean after him, to wait on him, bare his kids!) and they told them “This is happiness. This is what you were born to do! (Plus you can’t really do anything else! Remember this!)” They promised them being seen as actual human beings (If not by their husbands, then by all others, Goddammit!) And they promised them protection from all the dangers that lay outside of marriage, and which are specifically aimed at unmarried women. (Dangers, which were created by the very ones who were making the promises of protection, ironically…) They promised them also a life of comfort, free from the burden of being out there, fighting your way in a world that rejects you, and silences you, and takes more than it gives to you, and harasses and humiliates you,  and refuses to see you as worthy of anything, and puts you in danger. They promised them never to be despised and ridiculed: to be saved from the shame of being called spinsters! (This alone could do it) They promised them the right to exist! (Even if it is in their husband’s shadow) And women took it. With both hands! Which was clever of them, since such things (or any other ones) would not have been available to them, if they remained single: old maids. Childless, useless, unprotected, destitute things. Shameful and shameless. Unfit for “real” life.

Each mother (generation, after generation) becoming the ambassador of these promises, passing the baton to her daughter. Imparting along with a feeling of worthlessness, a hope for a “salvation”. An endless chain of women trying to fit inside a specific designed-by-men-and-for-men box. Being cut to measure. Telling each other “that’ s the only way to exist”. Helping men build the boxes in which their daughters would also he held. 

A chain that has never really been broken, and which even today, sustains Patriarchy and it is being sustained by it.

***

Wedding Gowns & Lies.– That Old Marriage Trap – Part 2 –  Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications.

READ ALSO: Saviour & Protector – That Old Marriage Trap – Part 1 https://wp.me/s7jQTY-2617

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ART by Fanitsa Petrou: http://www.fanitsa-petrou.com


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Posted in Feminist Posts, In English | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Comments Off on Wedding Gowns & Lies – That Old Marriage Trap – Part 2

A Saviour & Protector – That Old Marriage Trap – Part 1

A Saviour & Protector

That Old Marriage Trap – Part 1

Art & words by Fanitsa Petrou

 

Thoughts of wedding gowns will attack their brain like a virus that spreads everywhere, erasing all non-family related dreams, wiping out all other ambitions, homogenizing all ideals. A slow burning virus that was laying dormant ever since childhood, and which has been planted in their head the minute they heard their first fairy tale, their first love story. Each and everyone urging them to “marry young and then retire”, as the old Janis Ian song goes.

 

It is a “fact universally acknowledged” that a woman’ s value is sadly still directly related to her marital status, and so the lack of a husband, is automatically still being seen as a bad (in fact the worst) life choice for a female. Even a longtime partner does not define a woman as a “normal” one, and the commitment she shares with him, is not seen as “real” or valid. Only a marriage certificate will legitimise such a relationship and only a “proper” husband, will ultimately legitimise her own existence in this world, which is otherwise seen as worthless, pointless, or at the very least “wasted”: she was created in order to serve a man as the scriptures and modern-day Right Wingers never fail to remind us… Such notions are hardly dated and are globally making a come-back let us not forget!! (see:# 1)

And even married women who have somehow managed to be close at breaking that goddamn glass ceiling, are still being judged not on account of their accomplishments, their education, their intelligence, their abilities, or their work, but foremost by the kind of marriage they have. It is a well known fact for example, that if you want to keep a female politician from becoming too powerful, all you have to do is attack her marriage. Just look close enough, for long enough with a magnifying glass and something will come up. Which is another way of saying: just wait for the husband to cheat on her… And if he doesn’ t, throw some mud about him being “neglected, overlooked, disgraced, and emasculated by having such a wife who would rather go around speaking to strangers about social change rather than take care of him”, and let the public see what that says about the “kind of woman she is!”…. And if her husband is cheating on her, blame HER: “she is a workaholic / know-it-all / cold / sex-hating bitch who “let herself go” (that’s code for: “doesn’t look like a Barbie doll and is older than 35”) who therefore practically “forced him into going after other women”. Now, if she knew all about it and did nothing, “she is a liar and a manipulating, ambitious woman who was trying to save her career, rather than her marriage”. Which might mean, “a feminist!!”If she had no idea, then she is “clueless about the going ons of her own home”, so “how can she be trusted to run a country”? And if she stays with him after his cheating is made public, just call her “weak, and therefore unfit for office”. Not to mention a “bad feminist”. If she does divorce him, call her “too liberal”. One who is “against family values”. One who “doesn’t stand by her man”. A “cold, unforgiving, spiteful, calculating woman who throws him under the bus for the sake of her career”. Plus a female divorcee for a President? Or God forbid a single woman? Who has ever heard of such a thing, right?!

Hilary Clinton for example, is still shamed, blame for, judged about, and ridiculed on account of her husband’ s (her husband’ s, not her OWN let us not forget!) cheating which took place some 20 years ago, while Trump who has been married three times, has cheated on his wives on multiple occasions, has been accused of sexual harassment, (in fact had been caught on tape admitting it!), as well as of domestic violence, rape, has been elected by Americans as their President, shamelessly and – for reasons that defy logic – convincingly waving the “family values” flag… But then again, he is a guy…

What is infuriating is that the mud on the marriage of the female politicians (and the unquestionable support offered to the cheating male politicians), will be thrown by the hands of many women as well. Because women have systematically and for generations been brainwashed to see marriage as their own domain, and everything else, in fact the entire World, as a man’ s oyster… And if a woman has failed to keep her marriage together then she is just betraying her own gender and she needs to be punished…

Personally, I have started writing about feminism and Women’s Rights when I was in my early twenties, that is, nearly 30 years ago. I have written (in two languages) about domestic violence, femicide, gender based infanticide, paedophilia, the rape culture, prostitution and pornography, sex tourism, child brides, human trafficking, the horrors of female genital mutilation, sexual harassment, gender inequality in terms of education or medical care, sexism in pop culture, and about all kinds of laws and religious practises that humiliate, victimize and discriminate against women and girls, yet there are two subjects that are always guaranteed to cause strong negative responses in women: when I write about how we should stop being so obsessed with our looks and so fearful of ageing, and when I write critically of marriage. Because sadly, women’s beauty and women’s marital status are the things that define them the most! None of the above issues that are directly or indirectly affecting the lives of countless women and girls out there, cause an outrage as strong, or hit a nerve as sensitive! Women who would stay silent when all of the above issues of gender discrimination and male violence are raised, (including that of grown men who marry girls who are barely 7 years old, whom they literally rape to death!) prompts them to react so passionately. Or at all! Yet they become suddenly pretty vocal and pretty eager to voice opinions and display indignation, even at times, disgust and anger, when the issues of looks or marriage are raised! They are prompted to defend their right to be seen as “pretty”, and to be called a “wife” (these two being so linked after all to their sense of Self), with all they’ ve got. This offers I fear, a glimpse into the unchanged power of Patriarchy that has succeeded so triumphantly to convince most of us that nothing that happens to women is so terrible, so humiliating, so contemptible than refusing to attach their feelings of self worth (as well as their well being) to a man. Not even the endless variations of unspeakable violence, which so many of them face!

The truth of the matter is, marriage was and still remains, a hindrance to a woman’ s individual, social and professional development, stealing from her, most – if not all – of her non family-related dreams (let alone all of her time and energy…) guiding her towards a preordained fate, walking along a path that is both specific and predictable as well as claustrophobically narrow and inescapable. A path which generation after generation of women were forced or coerced to follow, so that they would keep away from exploring the wider avenues with their possibilities of spectacular vistas, which are considered any male’s birth right… In every discussion a feminist has ever had about the equality of women, there is always for example, that predictable moment when the men (or the occasional “pious” conservative women) who are against it, will smugly indicate that there are just not many women featured in history books (“deserving to be included in history books” is what they really mean). They will continue by offering lists of names of great male inventors, male scientists, male artists, male philosophers, male explorers, male politicians of past centuries. They will also go on and claim that the lack of female names in such lists, proves brilliantly and without any doubt, that women are just not adequately intelligent, capable, talented, or brave as men, and so obviously “by nature” not equal to them. Giving them similar lists of the admittedly fewer women who have excelled in these areas through the centuries is not enough. They need to be reminded that women having “marginal roles” in history, and not excelling at science, Art, or politics, etc. is not a proof that they are not equal to men, but a proof that  they were not allowed to. It is not a proof of their inferiority but of their disenfranchisement.

The reason why there were not more Madam Curies in the world for example, is not because there were not that many clever, talented, exceptional, brilliant girls out there, it’s because they were living literally enslaved inside their marriages: they were for endless generations denied an education, and then married off at 16 (or possibly younger), and then spent the biggest part of their lives cooking and cleaning and nursing, and being pregnant and being silent, and submissive, and compliant and docile. And if not all that, then beaten like a dog. Their abilities – let alone their rights – were being ignored by the law, and their status as human beings was ridiculed by scholars, intellectuals and scientists, and doubted by all-powerful religious leaders who all gave into the hands of men total power over them. As a result, a great number of them were being daily abused by their husbands (and possibly fathers and brothers too), and living their lives in constant fear. Their thirst for knowledge, for adventure, for success, for reaching the higher things, (or for existing in a world that recognized them as actual human beings) was therefore never satisfied. It was on the contrary discouraged, ridiculed, denied and punished! Their abilities and talents would because of that remain unacknowledged, undeveloped, wasted. Their dreams were forbidden and their self-confidence was systematically crashed. While the great explorers were out there discovering new continents and rivers and new worlds, and the great philosophers were spending their days contemplating on the great questions of Life and Death, their wives were at home, washing their dirty underwear. Care work (for children, infirm, elderly and of course above all, their masters and commanders: their husbands) which women performed for free, and for the entirety of their lives, not only kept them from reaching their potential, it helped men to reach their own!

This is still a reality for millions of women out there: in every country in the world, each generation of girls that is being given the (for many of them, sadly, still rare) opportunity of going to school, is according to studies (see: #2) doing great at it, being academically more gifted and OUTPERFORMING boys on all levels, even in countries in which there is a severe case of gender bias and inequality. Each one of them, full of promise and tremendous potential, which will be predictably wasted soon enough, (usually around or right after puberty in Third World countries, and usually right after college in the West), when they will be either forced, or else seduced to marry young, when a boy crosses their path, and thoughts of wedding gowns and wedding parties (not necessarily love, and this distinction needs to be made!) will attack their brain like a virus that spreads everywhere, erasing all non-romance related dreams, wiping out all other ambitions, homogenizing all ideals. A slow burning virus that was laying dormant ever since childhood, and which has been planted in their head the minute they heard their first fairy tale, their first love story. Each and everyone urging them to “marry young and then retire”, as the old Janis Ian song goes.

The sexism of fairy tales and rom-coms with their tales of beautiful and passive princesses and girls in permanent need of a rescue, who are predictably saved by princes (or in contemporary myths, by rich men) would of course have no hold on them, unless they were not also told that they are not much to begin with… Unless their self confidence was not crashed early on. Unless their insecurity – mostly about their looks – was not carefully cultivated, turning them into desperate creatures. Perpetually hungry for approval. Getting them ready to be seduced by anyone who would feed their hunger for it. Numbing momentarily their pain, and keeping the fear that they are just not pretty “enough” and so obviously also not “worthy of love”, at bay.

The message that comes from every direction is loud and clear: they can only be “someone” if a man says so! If a man chooses them. If he finds them sufficiently worthy of his time. Which is another way of saying “fuckable”. That’s how it goes. It started back when their mom promised them that if they were “good and pretty girls” they would too, one day, get to wear a magical wedding dress and get to have the most perfect of Days. A “Day” that would be “theirs!” (already implying that all the rest would not be so…) and be saved (from the misfortune of being born females obviously) by a man, who would come bearing rings and promises of ever afters. Giving them a home. And a purpose. Making their life finally worth living! The message was clear: “Beauty and youth are rewarded with men’s lust. Which leads to marriage. Which leads to a feeling of self-worth.” No alternatives available. Not for girls anyway…

The same narrative was repeated later with little variation in every romcom they’ ve ever watched as adults, and in every conversation they’ ve ever had with other women, in every magazine article, in every trashy romantic novel, in every Self-Help or even “serious” book on psychology they ‘ve ever read, punctuating the message again and again and again, branding it in their brain like a permanent neuro-tattoo. A compliment about their looks by a random mediocre stranger they would have never even noticed otherwise, and they would be goners. They would automatically assume that he is madly, completely, and eternally in love with them (instead of possibly just horny) and by that, they would convince theirselves also, that they too are in love with him, and would make it their mission to become his wife and the mother of his kids. They would want nothing more than get on that train that runs in endless circles, keeping them busy, making them feel like they are actually “going” somewhere: that they are finally important, and their life is finally making sense! And they would from then on, make sure to convince him to take that same train with them (it goes without saying, in the driver’s seat) by offering him a great deal of “adventurous” sex, or by denying to offer him any (not without a ring on their finger! No sir!) – depending on where they were born. (Both can work wonders BTW. Both can fog a man’s brain. Both can lead to marriage proposals… It’s THAT simple actually…)

So women of every generation embraced marriage and placed it in the center of all their concerns. Made it their own dream. (In fact, if not their ONLY dream, then certainly their most important one. The one that defined them.) And they went on and had their parties, and they wore their wedding dresses and the rings and the flowers in their hair proudly (and with relief), and by that, gained the right to look down on those who haven’t done the same. That was their prerogative! It wasn’ t much, but they have damn well earned it! (By enduring all kinds of daily indignities and losses) And in return, they’ve learned how to shut up when it came to men and sexism ( busily adding #notallmen #notmyhusband in feminist social media posts). They’ve learned to defend their “protectors”. They’ve learned to make their world smaller. And by that, safer.

That’ s how marriage came to become the foundation of Patriarchy. The rock upon which it was built. By persuading women to become complicit in their own devaluation, in their own imprisonment! Whether we care to admit it or not, marriage and Patriarchy are interconnected and go-dependent: each exists because the other does. So much so, that if you are in doubt whether or not Patriarchy is having one hell of a great day again, all you have to do is look no further than to the marriage industry that is providing all the necessary bells and whistles to a wedding ceremony, which is more powerful than ever, as weddings are becoming bigger, more spectacular and over the top than ever before.

To this day, regardless of where you were born, what kind of education you have had, what kind of dreams or career, if you are a woman, no news about your life will EVER be so exciting as the news of getting married (even a pregnancy can out-shadow such an announcement!) A woman can graduate from an ivy league college with top honours, get her dream job, go on and become a CEO or even the president of her country, travel around the world, gain international recognition at her chosen field, be involved in politics, philanthropy or activism and affect positively countless lives, find love, or accomplish the most precious of achievements: live consciously, yet it is never enough! She can go out there and end world hunger, while bringing Peace to the Middle East, saving us from Global Warming AND curing fucking cancer all at the same time, she will still not be seen as equally “successful” or quite as “happy” as the girl who got married out of high school (not necessarily to a great guy mind you, but to ANY random guy) and spends her days cleaning after him. Because the girl who got married out of high school is still legitimated in her time-honoured patriarchal choices: there is no need for her to daily “prove” to the world that her life is indeed “happy”, because her choices were the “right” ones! Her lifestyle is “valid”. It is self-proven! Her worth has been validated by proxy so to speak: she’s been chosen by a man! She got married. And that’ s enough for the world to see her as a “fulfilled” woman (Even when she is daily facing domestic violence!) She did things “right”.  She can retire. She is done… She did what she was “supposed” to do! She fulfilled her “gender destiny” just like the women were forced to do in Margaret Atwood’s “The Handmaid’s Tale” which  – let us face it – is an exaggerated reflection of our present. (see: #3) While the women who went out there and faced the world, and even had a go at changing it, and decided for a multitude of reasons that they could, and wanted to do it without a husband, will have to defend their every choice every single day, and for the rest of their lives (and hardly ever be convincing…) “How could such a stroke of bad lack (namely: living without a husband) have been a choice?” they will be told.  “Who chooses THAT?!” Their own feelings about it, not counting at all. Because their life as actual individuals (as females!) doesn’ t count either…

That’ s how Patriarchy got to be around for so long. Because it was built on women’s roles as “wives-and-nothing-more”. It was built on women’ s lack of actual (political, economical, emotional) power and therefore on their lack of feelings of self worth. It was built on their fears and insecurities – which it made sure to keep feeding. And it was built on the constant threat of violence that was always larking out there, aimed at them. And because of that, on their need for a saviour. A man who would protect his “property” from other men, who in return would get to have authority over her body and her life. It’ s a nice little arrangement and it has worked for thousands of years.

In a world that denies them the right to have choices, the only remaining option for countless women out there, is in fact, marriage. Many of them, even today, while still being kids: each year, 15 million girls (28 girls every minute, 1 every 2 seconds!) are married before the age of 18, and are being denied a childhood, an education and a normal development. According to the ‘United Nations Children’ s Fund’, over 700 million women alive today, were married before 18, including some 250 million who wed before 15 (some as young as seven!) and usually to a much older man. Which makes this no more than legal paedophiolia!

As I have written in an older article (#4 ) millions of women are still literally being pushed into the marital corner by the very fact they are denied the right to work or own property: according to a World Bank study (#5) “women’s economic prospects are specifically limited by law, in 155 countries out of the 173 studied” women own less than 20% of the world’s land. (Though other statistics reveal a much grimmer reality especially in certain parts of the world, like for example the one conducted by FAO (see: #6) which refers to ownership of land and agricultural ownership. Additionally, according to the World Bank study: “In 100 economies, women face gender-based job restrictions. In 18 economies, husbands can legally prevent their wives from working”. Also, “lower legal gender equality is associated with fewer girls attending secondary school relative to boys, fewer women working or running businesses and a wider gender wage gap” . Which is to say, women and girls are still discriminated against in matter pertaining to their education and because of that their pursuit of a career. An estimated 58 million of primary school aged children, are still out of school, 31 million of them are girls. Gender inequalities in education are greatly increased in older ages. In fact, two-thirds of the world’s illiterate adults are women. According to “The World’s Women” 2015 study (see: #7) 496 million women are illiterate.

Furthermore, in 100 countries, there are laws that specify which types of jobs women are allowed to have, and which are forbidden to them. In 30 counties, men are by law seen as the “head of the household” making all decisions on behalf of their wives and daughters, while In 19 countries, women are obliged by law to OBEY their husbands in ALL matters. In Cameroon, Chad, Chile, Indonesia, The Philippines, Sri Lanka, Togo and Zambia it is still illegal for women to own property, while others allow it only on paper. In Zimbabwe for example, their dead husband’s family forces widows out of their homes. A practise that is also common in parts of India. In Saudi Arabia, women need to have a “male guardian” who gets to make all major (or minor) decisions about their life. In 32 countries, women are legally obliged to get permission from their husbands to apply for a passport, (let alone use it!) Not to mention that most women in the Muslim world, need to have a father or husband’ s permission just to step out of their home, and they have to be accompanied by a male member of their family at all times (even a small boy is seen as a suitable guardian of their virtue, because even a small boy is seen as more important than them). In many Islamic countries, women are also not allowed to travel, study, marry, work, drive or even seek medical care when they are sick, unless their father or husband gives them the permission. In Saudi Arabia, it is still forbidden to women to drive a car or ride a bike, rendering them permanently dependent on their husbands and of course housebound. Riding a bike, is also forbidden in North Korea. In Nepal (and other countries), where women are seen as the most insignificant members of their households, they are only allowed to eat their husband’s leftovers – a fact that punctuates nicely the message that they are seen as worthless….

Yet, even when women are legally allowed to work they still face all kinds of dangers and discriminations, such as sexual harassment at work, which is incidentally not even illegal in nearly one-third of the world. A recent poll commissioned by the nonprofit humanitarian organisation CARE (see: #8) as an afterthought to the #MeToo movement, revealed that nearly one out of four men (23%) across eight countries from ALL continents (Australia, Ecuador, Egypt, India, South Africa, the U.S., the U.K. and Vietnam) “think it’s sometimes or always acceptable for an employer to ask or expect an employee to have intimate interactions such as sex with them, a family member or a friend”! Incidentally, the same poll also revealed that “in the U.K., 35 percent of people aged 25 to 35 years old believed it was sometimes or always acceptable to pinch a co-worker’s rear as a joke…” This shouldn’t surprise us: according to a different study by UCLA’s WORLD Policy Analysis Centre, (see: #9235 million working women (living in 68 countries) are exposed to sexual harassment at work without any legal protection. Women living in 25 countries are also completely unprotected when it comes to “gender-based discrimination in compensation, promotions and/or demotions, or vocational training at work”. Even in the Western World, studies reveal that there is not only a serious wage gap between the sexes, but women need to have an extra degree (which translates into years of more studying and working and mountains of additional students loans) in order to get a chance (if at all) to earn as much as less educated men do. (see: “Women Can’t Win” Study by the Georgetown University) #9b)

In short, in a world that denies them ALL other alternatives or in any case allows all kinds of obstacles to come between women and their professional goals, marriage remains for millions of them out there, the ONLY alternative. Yet it is hardly a safe one. In fact, it is often the very opposite of that, because the man they trust the most who was supposed to keep them safe from all the endless gender-based violence that is out there, is the very person they should fear the most: according to The World Health Organisation (see: #10), 1 in 3 (35%) of women worldwide have experienced either physical and/or sexual violence more often than not in the hands of an intimate partner or (more often than not) a husband. According to the World Bank study: 46 of the 100 countries covered have no laws specifically protecting women from domestic violence. Globally, as many as 38% of murders of women, are committed by a male intimate partner / husband, often as the result of domestic violence. The numbers go up when it comes specifically to American women: according to a new report released by CDC (The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention see: #11) today 55% of all murders of American women were committed by a former or current partner / husband (or his family or friends!), while 93% of these cases were related to intimate partner violence” which means these women were literally beaten to death! 15% of them while being pregnant! In short, women have less to fear from scary strangers than from their own husbands!

Conclusively, marriage as an institution, is the physical result of women’ s subordination and social exclusion: for thousands of years women existed in a world that denied them (that STILL does, in many parts of the world) the right to earn their own living, have money in their name, inherit their family’s property, or pretty much do anything without their father’s or husband’s permission. Marriage was created in order to give men (regular and “lawful”) access to women’s bodies and in return, keep women “protected” by the sexual violence that was specifically aimed at them by random men (which would “disgrace” them and by that “dishonour” their family), because the violence they would experience in the hands of their husbands would be justified and legal: he was acting within his God-given / law-given rights after all!

Marriage was in short created in order to keep women housed, fed, and in order to keep men sexually gratified on a regular basis. (Not to mention make them considerably wealthier as they got to be financially rewarded with dowries on top of gaining the right to inherit the property of their wife’ s family). The men were after all, the ones who would get to have a say in their choice of spouse, so marital sex was for, and about them – and that’s a detail we conveniently avoid to mention, when talking nostalgically about “traditional marriages” that used to last “for ever”). Women (underage girls really), were for endless generations being given” to men in marriage (who were to them often complete strangers) like goods, without being allowed to have a say in the matter. (A phenomenon that gave birth to all those fairy tales about monsters who would marry young princesses – see “Beauty and the Beast”, Werewolves / Vampire / stories and all the rest which attempted to romanticise the phenomenon) And once they got married, these girls had no say in anything relating to their daily routines, finances, or sex life. They were no more than slaves: their life and their body was their husband’ s property. And that is the bottom line.

Men have trouble understanding how horrible, hopeless and horrifying it can be for a woman or a young girl to be given (or sold!) to a complete stranger who will be granted by a marriage certificate or his money the “right” to rape her. Possibly because they have trouble understanding what’s so bad about rape anyway? Sex is sex, right?! Plus most of them wouldn’t mind being “raped” by a woman (never mind that this is not even any woman’s thing – let alone technically possible…) What if I offer this example to help them realise how a young girl would feel in such a situation? What if they, as young boys of say 14 or 15 (or as young as seven!) were being offered or possibly sold to a man (it has to be a MAN in order for make this analogy work… raping being their domain after all) who was twice their size and and possibly decades older than them, and had society, religion and law on his side too, who would get to rape them for the entirety of their lives and they would additionally be forced to obey him in all matters in exchange of being offered food and shelter? And to stretch further the analogy: what if their bodies and their souls as males, were somehow  more complex machines and another body just being “there” would not do it for them, and they also needed intimacy and connection and having a choice in the matter, in order to enjoy sex? What if the entire world was structured in such a manner that it told them there was no need for them to feel sexual pleasure, and also that there were no alternatives for them, no escape routes, no salvation? What if they were totally dependent on their husband / jailer as they had no right to own property of have money of their own, and so should just shut up and take it up the ass and be OK with it? And what if they were also being brainwashed to think that this particular prison, this particular nightmare was in fact the most wonderful thing on Earth, because it was the only option available to them, because they were not good for anything else anyway? Plus they would get to wear a fancy tuxedo on their “Special Day” when the ass raping by a complete stranger would begin! And wouldn’t that be lovely? Wouldn’t that just be the best?!! Now imagine this: what if the brainwashing was so pervasive, so relentless, and had lasted for so long that it became part of their identity as males? And also what if all the above was happening to countless generations of boys and for thousands of years, resulting in their complete disenfranchisement and disempowerment?  What kind of “spirit” do you think they would have? What kind of appetite to conquer the world and fight back? (Or open their eyes to the realities of this sick arrangement?) Does this make it any clearer? Does it answer the great question of why women LOOOOVE marriage?

For those of you who claim that this is a “dated” practise, and “not all marriages are like that” I remind you that “Rape of a woman or girl by her husband, is still expressly legal in at least 10 countries: Ghana, India, Indonesia, Jordan, Lesotho, Nigeria, Oman, Singapore, Sri Lanka, and Tanzania, though one might add that it is considered “morally” legal in every single country in the world: a husband having sex with his wife even when she is not willing, is still widely considered being a husband’ s “right” and wife’ s “duty”” (see: #4) This is the sexual abuse nobody talks about. This is the #MeToo movement that will probably never happen. Because wives just would rather not admit to it publicly… Even after they’ve escaped their marriages.

The more or less obligatory sex a husband expects, if not demands – often legally – from his wife (who pretty much to this day, considers it “her duty”, as much as he considers it “his right”, (and all for the “sake of the marriage” of course!) is still by the way, the biggest incentive for guys to get married: who are we kidding? The woman is still in it for the social validation (when not for the financial one), the man is still in it for the regular sex! Which explains why there is a fast declining rate of men who are opting for it (a whopping 13% drop from 2000 to 2014) on account that they get their regular sex “fix” from other sources: namely from prostitutes, dating sites, but mostly, from Internet porn. (see: #12) This proves what we already knew: what most men are really looking for, going into marriage, is not companionship, family, intimacy, connection, or “growing old together”, but just sex with a woman who won’t have the freedom (or the guts) to say “No”. (On top of a laundry service!)

Marriage was also created in order to constrain female sexuality and to guide it towards procreation, never pleasure. Young, chaste, virginal, women who have never experienced sex (and so had no measure of comparison between their husband and other men, and therefore no demands…) were “rewarded” by marriage, while “experienced” women, were discarded as used goods… That’s how it went. That’s how it still goes for countless women out there. And NOT just in the Islamic / Third World. (Think of the “Virgin Pledges” young girls are actually signing and offering to their fathers in modern-day USA!!!) On the other hand, a man’ s loyalty and “enforced” monogamy was guaranteed (in theory at least) only by a marriage proposal, while his staying married, was guaranteed by the threat of social / religious consequences, and in recent decades, by the complex economic consequences of a “messy” divorce.

Sadly, marriage still makes sense because the world is still a hostile place for women. A world in which women have no insecurities and are given a fair chance of being financially independent, is a world in which they have no use for men’s rings, men’s names and men’s money (only their love) is a different one from the one we know. And because of that, it is a world in which men are forced to become worthy of them… But alas! this is not the world in which we live: ever since we are little girls, we are told that being a female is a dangerous thing. We are told we need to be scared. We are told that we are in permanent danger (and sadly, we ARE!) and it is implied that we are because of that, also in permanent need of a male protector. Who will get to save us from other males. That’ s the way it goes! Above all else, we are taught in a thousands ways that we are no more than our bodies. We are taught how to be insecure about them, how to hate them, how to compare them constantly with other women’s bodies (because men will do too!) We are taught how to live our life as if we are on a never ending, life-long beauty pageant, competing daily with other women for the attention of men. Because their attention is always short-spanned. And therefore precious. Which automatically makes THEM precious to our eyes. (And us insignificant!) We are taught how to feel like we are just never pretty enough, or slim enough, or curvy enough, and before you know it, young enough. This alone, can force us into submission even more affectively than our fear! This alone can force us into attaching our life to the first horny guy who proposes. Not because we really want it, but for the simple reason that he might be the last one who asks us. Who sees us as worthy of his lust… Even if he doesn’t wake up ours…)

As soon as we grow up, we also discover that pop culture, Art and literature (created by men), see us also as nothing but bodies (as sexual objects or fertile wombs), while religion assures us we are inferior, sinful things. Largely ignored by God, and deeply (in fact obsessively) despised by His representatives on Earth… And then we notice that we are overlooked as an actual demographic by politicians and law makers which view men as the default human beings and their own needs, as the only ones that are worthy of consideration. Laws and everyday life, both tell us that we are not equals to men (not really!): even in First World countries we won’ t get paid the same. We won’ t be given a fair chance. We won’t be rewarded for our intelligence and talents and hard work. (Only for our looks! And only for a few years…) Our voice will not be heard in meetings. Our ideas will be ignored, ridiculed, stolen. (And explained back to us by those who have stolen them). Our minds will be underestimated, our opinions dismissed, our spirits crashed, our humanity disregarded, our dignity humiliated. Our bodies will be leered at, and groped and entered by men who will feel it is their right. Until it finally dawns on us: we won’ t be allowed to succeed (not unless we  identify “success” with a wedding ceremony…) We won’ t climb up that corporate ladder. Not on our own! Not without a man pushing us and because of that, feeling free to look up our skirt – and help himself to what he fancies. And if by some miracle we will do it on our own, we need to understand that we should be ashamed of ourselves. We should feel guilty. And be ready to be seen as selfish, cold-hearted bitches. Too clever for our own good. The kind that scares men away. Because men don’t like a know-it-all. Someone who earns more money than they do. Someone who is powerful on her own right. Someone who is averse to flattering their ego. Someone whose existence in the world is enough of a reason for that ego to be deflated. Someone who is not OK with being harassed. Someone who is not in need of a rescuer. Someone who has no real need for a “provider”, but for a partner. Men don’t want a woman who is self-sufficient. Who works “too hard”. Who has ambitions. Dreams. A life of her own. Who is not satisfied with a life of washing his briefs (and if he’s rich, supervising those who do), and organising dinner parties for his clients. Looking pretty. (Because the 50s never really left… Not really. They are frozen inside of us all, beckoning on…) Spending her days shopping, or at spas and gyms and plastic surgeon’s waiting rooms. Being Istagram-worthy. With her selfie hand perpetually extended. Being grateful. Looking great. Keeping ageing and fat dutifully at bay. The world tells us that men don’t want intelligent girls. They don’ t want funny girls. They don’ t want girls who talk back. Who have ideas about things. Who have a smart mouth. The world tells us we need to keep our mouth shut, and our head down. To wear heels, and handcuffs and have Brazilians. Because women in porn, do all that. To be pleasant, and smiling, and eternally ageless (or else be OK with being replaced) and when it comes to sex, be up for anything. Fulfil our husband’ s porn fantasies. Be OK with him hitting us, humiliating us “recreationally”. In order to “keep him”. In order to “save the marriage” (which is permanently on shaky ground. Always in need of saving. And always by weird porn-inspired, violent sex acts). Not to “nag”. Not say what we actually feel, think, or – God forbid – actually need. To be manipulative instead of direct. To fake orgasms instead of saying what we actually like in bed. To wear our high heels and our thongs and play along. Pretend that cooking for him is the highlight of our day and our reason for living. And at the same time, pretending we like sports, and drinking beer with his friends, and playing video games and watching porn. (Or at the very least, re-enacting it) Pretend we are the kind of woman who is not offended by rape jokes. The kind who would gladly service him without needing anything in return. Other than designer bags and his name that is. Because we are “cool” girls. Aren’t we? We have no inhibitions. We are “adventurous”. We are “different”. The kind of wives men stay married to. We are as the song says (as so many, MANY songs say these days!) “worth it!”

The world still tells us we ought to be perpetually young, and pretty, and fertile, and “good sports”, and even if we are all that, it assures us that it won’t last long. That loneliness is the price of independence. Plus these are STILL the only things we are allowed to be, the only things that are of any actual use to us, in a male universe. Our only currency. Our only power – the power over a man’s hormones! We are told that even then, this power has an expiration date! There is a bomb inside our uterus that starts ticking the minute we hit puberty and that can go off at any minute. So we better hurry up. Not be picky. Not be demanding. Not think too much. Not wait for Mister Right. And for crying out loud, not be a fucking feminist! Just get on that train before it leaves the station. Get our man. Wear that ring. Save ourselves while we can! Maybe no other trains will be coming along. Maybe this train that is old and rackety and mediocre, and has weird smells, will be the very last that will stop by our station. We better get on it then. Find someone to give us a ring. And a reason to have a spectacular party in a spectacular dress. Someone to take care of us already. Pay the bills. Face the world for us. Fight our battles. Protect us from other men. Give us a name. A chance to brag! Save us from a life of pitiful unmarried existence. Make us feel we are like other women.

And men on the other hand, are told they have no expirations dates, no grounds for feeling threatened, disenfranchised, scared. Not when it comes to women at least. They are told they are good enough. Because they are men. Even if they weight 300 kilos. Even if they are octogenarians. Even they can hardly spell their own name. (And yes, even if they look – and act – like Henry Weinstein, Woody Allen or Louis C K…) Even if they are sex offenders or have been convicted for murder. There will always be a sufficiently desperate woman who will marry them. Even serial killers get dates, right? And get to walk down the prison’s chapel aisle, with a woman holding tightly onto their arm. Expecting eagerly those good old conjugal visits. (Not even a pile of mutilated corpses can get in the way of a woman and her wedding day! Because, yes, women will marry ANYONE. As long as they are married…)

So men have no reasons for worrying, trying, adjusting, empathising, evolving! Young, willing, desperate, insecure, hungry for compliments, scared-out-of-their-fucking-minds women will always be out there. Panting for a ring. And a stranger’ s name they will take as their own, without a second thought. (Like theirs never existed. Like their own self never meant a thing!) They will always be out there hoping for their “Special Day”. For a respectability that would otherwise have been denied to them. They will always be out there. Being eager. Being bodies. Being what they need them to be. Gladly silencing their real self. Looking for a savior. (Any savior!) A father to their kids. A protector. A “provider”. A home. A feeling of belonging. A hallow promise of “eternity”. A red rose on Valentine’s (they will have to buy with God only knows what series of creepy one-sided, porn-inspired, violent sexual acts). A lie they need to hear. A husband! A name that’s not theirs, replacing their own. Someone to proudly take back home on holidays. Someone to stand bored beside them at weddings and funerals. Someone to smugly show off at family gatherings and high-school reunions and facebook posts. Someone to brag about for godsake! ANYONE! A generic someone with a set of XY chromosomes. That’s all it takes. That’s all they need from this world. And this need of theirs to be married no matter what, is the very thing that had kept men from evolving. From being accountable for their actions. From developing empathy! From facing the mirror and finally be faced with what their entire gender is reflecting into the world.

 The bottom line is: in a world in which men are non violent and do not feel perfectly within their rights to discriminate against, threaten, control, buy, sell, stalk, harass, beat, rape, and kill women, (and largely go unpunished when they do!), and therefore in a world in which women need no protector; in a world in which men want more than a sex provider who cooks and cleans and looks good while doing it; in a world in which women are seen as more than just the sum of their body parts; in a world in which women are TRULY not condemned for their sexuality and face no prejudice when they have sex and kids out of wedlock; in a world in which men are looking for life partners instead of sex slaves, and women are looking for life partners instead of providers; in a world in which men are worthy of women’s trust, and their loyalty is not so fragile and short-lived that it needs to be secured by the legal complexities of marriage and divorce; in a world in which women have the right (which all men possess!) to actually age without that being a factor that diminishes their value as human beings and limits their options, forcing them to panic and make rash decisions; in a world in which women have the freedom to pursuit a career on TRULY equal terms with men, get an equal pay as them, and be rewarded for being intelligent, ambitious, talented, tenacious, hard working – instead of being condemned and despised for it; in a world in which women are not seen as cattle and motherhood is not seen as their higher and only TRULY legitimate purpose in life; in a world in which couples share housework and parental duties equally; in a world in which fathers understand that they are responsible for the lives they bring into the world, and there is therefore no need for them to be blackmailed into taking on the responsibilities of a parent only within the context of marriage – and even then reluctantly; in a world in which working single mothers are supported by the State and so still able to work and therefore not be in need of compromising solutions for the sake of their kids; in a world in which women have a healthy self-esteem and believe it their right to choose the best guy for their own individual (emotional, intellectual and sexual) needs, not just any guy so that they get have the coveted title of a “Mrs”, or the best financial solution for them and their kids; in a world in which women are seen as truly equal to men by law, society and religions, marriage just becomes immediately obsolete. In fact, it becomes a laughable relic.

No wonder it is still so popular!


Saviour & Protector – That Old Marriage Trap – Part 1 – Art & worlds Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications.

READ ALSO:

Wedding Gowns & Lies.– That Old Marriage Trap – Part 2 https://wp.me/p7jQTY-Hu

Feel free to share on Social media

ART by Fanitsa Petrou: http://www.fanitsa-petrou.com


Sources / Statistics / Reading material:
#1 “The Dystopia is near – Marching Towards Gilead”: https://wp.me/p7jQTY-vW
#2 http://www.telegraph.co.uk/education/11364130/Girls-do-better-than-boys-at-school-despite-inequality.html
#3 “The Handmaid’ s Tale – The stuff that female fears are made of” https://wp.me/p7jQTY-uY
#4 “The Cold Reality of Numbers” : https://wp.me/s7jQTY-2038
#5 “Women, Business and the Law, 2016” see: http://wbl.worldbank.org/~/media/WBG/WBL/Documents/Reports/2016/Women-Business-and-the-Law-2016.pdf
#6 FAO – The Food and Agriculture Organization) survey which refers to ownership of  land and agricultural ownership http://www.fao.org/gender-landrights-database/data-map/statistics/en/
#7 “The World’s Women” 2015 study https://unstats.un.org/unsd/publication/SeriesK/SeriesK_20e.pdf
#8   http://www.care.org
#9 https://www.worldpolicycenter.org
#9b ttps://cew.georgetown.edu/cew-reports/genderwagegap/
#10 WHO (World Health Organisation study: http://www.who.int/mediacentre/factsheets/fs239/en/
#11 CDC (The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention https://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2017/07/homicides-women/534306/
#12 “Cheap Sex: The Transformation of Men, Marriage, and Monogamy”, by Mark Regnerus, Oxford University Press)


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Posted in Feminist Posts, In English | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Comments Off on A Saviour & Protector – That Old Marriage Trap – Part 1

Dear Single Women

Dear Single Women

Art & words by Fanitsa Petrou

Marriage is more about someone else’ s dirty laundry and bathroom habits. It’s about not having a moment to yourself, and endless chores, and to-do lists, and picking up after someone else on a daily basis, and enforced friendships with other couples you despise with the intensity of a thousand Suns, and horrible in-laws with whom you are forced to spend all major holidays (and possibly a fair amount of your weekends), and having every waking moment and every expense you make, being accounted for.

Dear single women, screw what people say about you. If you can master that, you are good to go. Life is sweet, and there for the taking!

Marriage is often not about the great dress, the attention, the princess-for-a-day thing, the wedding extravaganza and certainty NOT the ever after. It’ s about the next day, the next month, the next decade. It’s about someone else’ s dirty laundry and bathroom habits. It’ s about scheduled, and occasionally “duty” sex, and more often than a married woman would care to admit, “bargain sex” (as in: “I will go for this unrequited sexual act that makes me want to smother you in your sleep, and you will come with me to my parents’ anniversary party and actually not start a fight with my father” – kind of manner) And it’s about not having a moment to yourself, and endless chores, and to-do lists, and picking up after someone else on a daily basis, and enforced friendships with other couples you despise with the intensity of a thousand Suns, and horrible in-laws with whom you are forced to spend all major holidays (and possibly a fair amount of your weekends), and having every waking moment and every expense you make, being accounted for. And it’s about sharing your life with someone who thinks your home is a hotel with full, 24h room service, only difference, he gets to fuck the maid whenever the mood strikes, (HIS mood that is) because that is still pretty much what both parties sign for, the minute the guy buys a ring and the woman feels weak at the knees. And it’s about constant compromise, and bitter grievances and tiny, daily acts of revenge, and angry conversations you will have all on your own (usually while you are angry-folding clothes), and silences (and the granting, or withholding of sex) being used as  weapons in fights that last for months, and the kind of murderous rage that both kills and feeds you. But mostly, it’ s about learning much too many details about someone you used to look up to. And this alone, can easily do you in.

Not to mention: It’s about “allowing” a man to rape you because the alternative is a fight – if not a divorce. Or more likely cheating! (And this alone says it all!! It’s the secret behind most long marriages. The one, “happily married” women would never share. In short, it’s the things women endure and the things they sacrifice for the “sake of the marriage”. Marriage is, if you like, a bit like communism: one hell of a theory that was supposed to solve all the evils born out of social inequality, but which when put to practise proved to have been nothing but another form of dictatorship: instead of equality, it offered a new version of rulers and pariahs; instead of justice, it offered servitude; instead of eternal companionship, it felt like being exiled to Siberia until you die alone and desperate in the fucking snow.

To put it in other terms (because I get it, thousands of years of conditioning are not that easy to be reversed): remember that weird roommate you had at college who used to steal your Cds and your T-shirts, keeping you up at night with foul cooking smells, ungodly bathroom noises and ominous death metal songs about “The Beast”? The one who used to copy your papers without asking, and when drunk, angrily making passes at you, and the next morning pretending it never happened? Remember how you were too scared to take them to Student Court, because God only knew how they would react, right? Plus they were on the lease, and all the apartments near camp were taken, and  you were penniless, so you weren’t going anywhere either… And remember how the only thing that kept you going, was the thought that by the end of the semester you could get rid of them? Well sometimes being married feels like that, but the “semester” won’t end, unless one of you dies… Or in any case, unless lawyers and judges and priests (and possibly policemen) are ushered in, to help you end, or escape it…

All the above should sober you up, and snap you out of it! Probably not, though right? Yeah. I thought so. Because the message that comes from every direction at you, is loud and clear and relentless: you are not much as a human being unless a man says so. With a ring. Nothing about you – not your mind, your heart, your intelligence, your empathy, your talents, your abilities, your dreams, your ambitions, your successes, your knowledge, your experiences, your strength, your individuality, your humanity – is important (not really!) unless you win the ultimate prize: become someone’s (anyone’s really) little wife. Don’ t be sucked so easily into this lie is what I’m saying. Even though it is built on thousands of years of brainwashing (and reversing it would shake Patriarchy so hard, it would shutter it to pieces!) Don’t fall for it, even though laws, religions and pop culture alike, are to this day sustaining it and empowering it. Don’ t buy into the conspiracy theory that tells you that marriage is the “secret to your happiness”, your “true destiny”, the epitome of womanly “perfection” and the one thing that solves all problems and grants you the right to walk with your head held high. And also, don’ t be intimated into believing that everything to do with you, is somehow related to your husbandless state:

If you work hard, it’ s because you don’ t have a husband to support you, and never because you enjoy your work (and are perfectly capable of supporting our own self!)

If you succeed, it’ s because you have nothing else in your life anyway (and not because you are intelligent, hard working and talented)

If you fail, it’ s because you don’ t have a husband to help you and guide you on your path. (Because husbands just love having successful wives don’t they?)

And if you find yourself in any sort of dangerous situation, it’ s because you don’ t have a husband to protect you. (Because no married woman was ever beaten, raped or murdered, right?)

If you have lots of friends and lots of interests, love reading, dancing, taking classes, learning new things, and you live a full life, it’s because you have a lot of time on your hands and are looking to fill your empty life.

If you love going out, or travelling, it’ s because you are looking for a husband.

If you love staying in, it’s because you are moping because you don’t have a husband. And it is also the reason why you don’t have a husband.

If you don’ t have a relationship, you are just pathetic.

If you have a relationship, it is assumed that is not “serious”, unless he proposes.

If he proposes and you refuse, nobody believes you. And if they do believe you, they think you are a self-destructive fool. Or a lesbian. (Because the idea of a heterosexual woman who values independence seems highly unlikely)

If you are happy, you are just pretending.

If you are unhappy for whatever reason, it’s only on account of not having been a bride.

If you have legitimate reasons to be sad, or stressed about anything (money problems, health issues, trouble at work, a friend’s death, neo Nazis in hoods, the war in Syria, or fucking global warming) it is always ALWAYS on account of your husband-less state and your desperation to reverse it.

If you speak up for your rights as an employee, a professional, a citizen, or (God forbid!) as a woman, it’s because you are turning “bitchy” on account of your lack of a husband. (Because husbands have such a calming affect on their wives, right?)

If you have a cold, allergies, lumbago or cancer, it’s because you are depressed for being single. (Which by the way, is how many doctors will see it too!)

If you have accomplished great things in your life, reached the top of your profession, made an actual difference in people’s lives, or the World at large, that’ s just not seen as equally important as keeping a clean house, cooking for your hubby and having a nice dinner waiting for him at the end of the day.

If you found success, fulfilment, peace of mind, or the cure for cancer, the way to end World hunger AND to bring Peace in the Middle East, these are not seen as nearly important enough accomplishments as landing a husband! (Any husband!)

If you play with your friend’ s kids, it’ s because you are jealous of their happiness – not because you are fond of them or are just being polite. And if you don’t play with them, it is again because you are jealous and bitter – never because you don’t feel like it. (Or because they are spoiled brats. Which lets’ face it, it is an actual possibility…)

If you have spent the bigger part of your adult life with a guy with whom you are in love, and whom you have consciously chosen not to marry, this is in no way shape or form seen as nearly as important as having been married at least for a few minutes with a random guy  for whom you had no feelings, or connection. Because a pointless 5-minute long marriage trumps a serious long-term relationship,  and being divorced, trumps being single every time! That’s just the rule of any land…

If you love dogs, it’ s because you have no kids – never because you are an animal lover – which is what is of course assumed about the married women who have dogs. (Try volunteering at a dog shelter – or at any charity for that matter – I dare you! You will get to hear some very traditional mouthfuls that mostly start with “old” and end with “maid”. Or ones that start with “Cat” and end with “lady” – always a fave –  even when only dogs are involved…. People just love the “classics” don’t they?)

And of course, if you object to being shamed and prejudiced against, and on occasion bullied by other women (always women interestingly enough, this being a “woman on woman” sort of “crime”) on account of being single, that’s because you have a chip on your shoulder and are jealous of their unmistakable “good fortune”…

It feels like you just can’ t win this. But try! Fight the injustice, the ancient sexism, the prejudice and the absurdity. The age-old brainwashing of Patriarchy. Speak up! Change perceptions. Put people in their place! Be a fucking bitch if you must! It’ s damn worth it!

Don’ t change your life to fit people’ s expectations. Don’ t get dragged into it, don’ t play this game, even though the need might be overwhelming.

Don’ t get married in order to feel finally “accepted”. Don’ t get married out of desperation. Don’ t get married in order to get that precious “social validation” you’ve been refused. Don’ t get married to please your parents. Don’ t get married to prove to your married friends, you too are “worthy” to be part of the “inner circle”! And definitely don’ t get married unless you fall in love AND are prone to compromising.

Have a great party in a wonderful gown – hell, make it white and lacy too if you must. Have exquisite linen, and floating lights, and centrepieces, and tall glasses, and name tags, and invitations with calligraphy and real gold dust sprinkled all over them! Have white doves, and swans, and horses garlanded with flowers, and midgets in top hats throwing rose petals in your face while reciting Rumi poems… Make it a spectacular affair and spend months preparing it. Get your friends to help you, and feel free to boss them around. Just because! Repeat to them “It’s my day! It’s MY day!” as many times as it will take for you to feel important (just like brides seem to be needing, is what I’m saying…) Get the wedding extravaganza out of your system, but don’ t get married just so you get to have that “special day”, even when the guy you have come upon, is anything but “special”. Don’t sign your life away, offering it as a collateral to a random guy, so that you too will have “your day”. And BTW, every fucking day is “YOUR DAY” if you are free to do whatever you want, instead of what you are supposed to do…

If – in spite of all the above – getting married is something that you still wish for yourself and you happen to be financially independent (by the way, work on THAT first!), remember that you will always, ALWAYS have a choice. Use it! Be picky! Be choosy! Don’ t sell your self short (or like, literally!) Don’ t go for the first guy who proposes, even when you feel he is not the guy for you, like women of past generations have done, just because they had no other choice. Don’ t attach your life to someone who is not worthy of your love, let alone your respect, just because he pays the bills! And don’t turn your life into a long, monotonous, mind numbingly boring array of thankless duties, just so that you will be – like your friends – finally a married woman, finally accepted in the “grown up” world, playing house with a guy you resent, making him the father of your kids! And avoid porn addicts at all costs for Godsakes! Which is to say: don’t invite into your life (and your kids’s lives!) the kind of man who considers the on-camera raping and torturing of women (and possibly children) an entertainment and a turn on! Think about it for a minute!

The thing is, if you are truly looking for your true mate – not just any guy to marry you – there is a trick to it: you have to be ready to remain single! To be so in need of something worthy of having, that no one else will do! And in order to do that, you need to embrace your single-ness so to speak: enjoy your life, without seeing every activity as an opportunity to meet your future husband. Stop living as if you are in a perpetual limbo, like your life is nothing but a countdown until you are saved by a man who holds the one and ONLY key to your happiness. It’ s degrading. Not to mention stupid. And completely divorced from reality. Plus, men can smell your desperation from miles away, like dogs smelling fear. (Yes! even when you are playing the Oh! so popular “nonchalant” game) Men are not – granted – particularly perceptive when it comes to how a woman really feels, but desperation? They know about. (Possibly because they have seen it in the eyes of most of the single women they have ever met…) Just relax already and forget about this all consuming “goal”. Stop trying so hard, let things happen and be OK if they don’t. And that’s the thing my dear: by not giving a damn, and by acquiring a sense of Self and a set of standards, you attract what would have never come your way, if you were to keep on being desperate, hiding your true self and trying to please every mediocre, commitment phobic, weirdo living in your immediate vicinity.

How to do that? By making conscious efforts to see that your life IS in fact a good one, and that it can also be fulfilling: your house is not just the place in which you sleep, where you keep your shoes and your treadmill, or have the kind of sex you hope will eventually lead to a wedding proposal. Open it to friends. Make it a home! Bake pies, cook hot meals for just yourself! (As in not just as a way of impressing a guy!) Plant flowers. Decorate Xmas trees. Celebrate significant moments. Travel alone or with friends, and not so that you will meet some adventurous stranger at some airport, but because it is fun!

Which is to say: Live like your life is actually valid! Because, guess what? IT IS!

And stop trying to emulate the same sort of persona that got other women married. Stop trying so hard. Don’t be dragged into the vortex of self pity into which single women are so often being dragged. Don’ t buy into that whole “it’s my fault / I’m not good enough / pretty enough / young enough / thin enough / curvy enough / sexy enough / easy enough / low maintenance enough” narrative too, that prompts you to change yourself, become a compliant, dumbed down, surgically altered and possible malnourished sex doll, so that you too will catch some random porn addict’ s attention and make him the father of your kids. Because…well,… yikes! (Speaking of “yikes!”: even if you do find the “man of your dreams”, the guy who seems to be the one you have been waiting for all these years, when he gets on one knee holding a ring, do yourself  – and your future children! – a favour: before saying “YES!” with a gasp, take a a deep breath, and ask him to show you his browser history first. Right there on the spot, before he has time to sanitise it. It can be an eye-opener let me tell you, and it can save yourself years and years of turmoil! Trust me!)

Be bravely and proudly yourself! Embrace the inner freak, the fighting-for-your-Rights-bitch, the crying-out-loud-at-movies-nut-case with the I-don’t-give-a-fuck-hair on Sunday mornings, the I-plan-to-age-and-you-better-be-able-to-deal-with-it self, if that’s what you are. Know that when you do, when you are finally really OK with who you REALLY are (as opposed to who you are “supposed” to be), you sort of radiate an aura around you, that invites your male equivalent instead of an endless parade of self-centered douche-bags who are looking for a stiletto-wearing housewife / sex slave. Your soul mate will be alerted by your “smell” so to speak, from miles away. The “smell” of someone real, (instead of one that was manufactured by lifestyle magazines, Instagram photos of other desperate women,  porn, and old “Sex and The City” episodes) will shock him to his being and he will find you. (If being found is what you need, that is!) And if he doesn’t find you (possibly because he doesn’t exist…)  be OK with it, Godammit! Rather than lower your standards and go for the first pervert who gives you the time of day. And if you are desperate for kids, look into other solutions that are available to women these days, instead of attaching your life and your kids’s lives permanently on some creep.

Above all else, stop trying so hard to be the “cool” girl who ticks all the boxes of what an “ideal” marriageable woman is: one who exist in order to make her man’ s life easy, and doesn’t have any kind of dreams that could get in the way of his comfort or pleasure. One who doesn’t mind being “taken care of” by him and in return spends her days cooking and cleaning and looking hot while doing it. One who is a “good sport” when it comes to porn and rape jokes, one who pretends to like watching big men passing a ball to each other for what seems hours on end (which is another way to say “sports”), and who plays video games with sexist / sadistic undertones. One who is looking like a Barbie doll, even when she is washing the toilet, or when her heart is breaking. One who hides her darkness, her intelligence and her complexity, and doesn’t mind being chained to the bedpost like a fucking dog, so that she too, will “get her man”. Because guess what? The man you will get, will be the kind that wants this kind of woman! And how is that a good thing?! Why would you want that kind of creep in your life?! (Let alone in your potential kids’ s life?!!)

“But there are just not that many good ones left!” I hear you saying though your sobs. I KNOW! That’ s no reason for you to go for the less than “good” ones though! (Or even the really, REALLY disgusting ones!)

Many more “good” ones would be around BTW, if the world was not so densely populated with so many insecure and desperate to get married women, who are so eager to compromise. Who go easy on them: mothers who were trapped in loveless marriages and so allow their sons (the only males who would ever love them) get away with murder; girlfriends who pamper to their ego and disguise themselves into the type men “go for”, so that they too will get to have the “special day” they were promised; wives who even as they write Facebook post about their “perfect” family, they just endure a series of daily indignities and pretend, and shut up, so that they won’ t be “out there” in the land of the “despised” ever, EVER again. We, as women have a hand in how this mess came about…. Because we have bought the lie that being single is a disease, and any (that is ANY!) man, its panacea. Men have believed this shit too: that they hold the key to all that we want. So why would they ever bother to change, I ask you? Why would they ever want to step out of the Middle Ages? Why would they ever evolve?

As for being daily judged on account of your husbandless state: do try to remember that for many married women out there, being smug and condescending and – let’s face it – cruel to their single friends, and passive aggressively shaming them on every occasion they get, is a matter of self-preservation. They probably have been groomed from an early age to think of marriage is their only path, and it is probably their only source of pride and the only accomplishment they were allowed to have. So they hold on to it, even when it kills them (occasionally, literally…) Putting their single friends down, is their way of feeling like they haven’ t failed, their dreams weren’ t cheated, their life still makes sense. Which is to say that even the woman who got married to the most boring individual who has walked on this Earth, still gets to feel superior when she compares herself to any (literally ANY) single woman. Even if that single woman is the president of her country… Even the woman who got married to an abusive alcoholic who rapes her and bullies and hits her and her kids on a daily basis, still gets to feel that. Because the world still tells her that being unmarried is the lowest, most pitiful and contemptible form of womanhood, and being married to an abuser is nothing compared to that! Even with a black eye and bruises and stitches all over her body, even as she locks herself in the bathroom to escape her husband’ s rage, she still somehow manages to find comfort in the thought: “at least I’m not single!” And that about sums it up…

In conclusion, face it already: being single is NOT a misfortune and your life as a single woman is NOT a “waste”

(Though admittedly, getting married does shut people up! I’ ll grant you that)

***

4th of Dec, 2017. Dear Single Women – Art & worlds Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications.

Feel free to share on Social media. Join my Facebook group “Female Matters. Females Matter!”

Read Also: “Dear Married Women”https://wp.me/p7jQTY-CG

“Dear Women” https://wp.me/s7jQTY-1588

ART by Fanitsa Petrou: http://www.fanitsa-petrou.com

 

 
 

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Posted in Feminist Posts, In English | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Comments Off on Dear Single Women

Dear Married Women

Dear Married Women

Art & words by Fanitsa Petrou

Sometimes it is about living without putting all your expectations about your happiness, well-being and comfort, on someone else’ s shoulders.

***

Dear Married Women: if you don’ t come into the marriage having your own money, always ALWAYS work. Always be financially independent. Even though as a married woman you are likely to have a second job, (and a third and a fourth and a tenth): that of the cleaning woman, cook, nurse, taxi driver, general care provider, party organiser, teacher, and possibly “sex worker” (and it IS sex WORK when you don’ t feel like it but you close your eyes and allow it to happen just because you are financially dependent on your husband….) the minute you get home from work there is sadly, tragically, just no alternative: you need to have your own money if you don’ t want to be reduced into a child, asking for an allowance to buy a blouse or go to the doctor. If you want your choices to be based on what you believe, feel, desire, need, rather than what you are “allowed” to have by your “provider”; If you don’ t want to be compromised on every step of the way, by becoming dependant on someone else who will get to have a say in who, and what you are, and in what you need, want, do, or are permitted to have. Which is another way of saying: Don’ t lose your power as an individual, and don’t treat a guy as your ATM. Don’ t exchange financial stability with the granting of sexual favours when you don’ t actually feel like it. Don’ t provide cleaning / cooking services in exchange for money and social approval. Because there are other choices available to modern-day women. And because it alters your relation with your husband (and yourself!) and steals away your options, your integrity and makes you get used to compromises. And that’s no good. In short, rethink the foundation of your marriage.

When things turn sour, stop trying to “save” your marriage at all costs. And stop assuming that you are the one who must always pay these costs. Which is to say: stop wanting to be married so much, that your life becomes a series of indignities. If your marriage is no longer working for you or your partner, stop trying so hard to hold on to a man you no longer love, or loves you, just because you cannot imagine yourself alone, as anything other than being married, or as an independent grown up individual who supports her own self. And if living with your husband has become unbearable, stop thinking that unless he cheats on you, you shouldn’t go for a divorce… Being cheated on is not the only reason to escape something that has become your prison…

If your life has become an endless effort to compete with other women, and your days an endless race to eliminate the signs of time or fat from your body, as if you being you, is just not enough any more, know that you are not loved as you deserve – as any human being deserves! You are scared because you know it in your heart. That is why you spend all your spare time trying to reverse Time and gravity. It is not just futile, it is above all, degrading and definitely not worth it. Stop it. Let it go. It’ s over! Face it! And not because you’ ve aged, but because he never did love you even as a young woman. Because that’ s the funny thing about love: your beloved is to your eyes always lovable…

And if your love life has reached a point when you are in urgent need of marriage counsellors, and life coaches, and sex “to-do” lists, and sex shops, and Kama sutra-like manuals, then maybe it is time to call it a day. Because it should’ t have to be so much  work: if each other’ s bodies and spirits are no longer enough, and you start needing new hair colours and new plastic body parts and an entire new underwear wardrobe that would in actual fact work as a disguise to give him the impression he is fucking a completely different woman, and if you start needing props, and mechanical limps and special medication and whatnot, or you both start needing to pretend you are other people whom you pick up in bars and the like in order to endure having sex with each other, how about you cut the middle man and just go be with actual other people already?!

Also, if your husband is just not intellectually and emotionally capable of understanding or enjoying activities that do not involve beer, naked women, or big men passing each other a ball, (or video games that include all of the above), why do you insist on dragging him to theatres, and flea or farmers’ s markets, Swedish cinema marathons, mind / body / spirit fairs, concerts, and Art shows, and strawberry picking activities, and shopping sprees, and discount hunts, and supermarkets even? Why do you torture the poor bastard? Just let him be. You married him knowing what / who he was after all, so just endure it, as every other married woman on the planet does… And how about you stop pretending that you like going to ball games with him too? Or doing that thing he likes so much in bed which makes you feel like a piece of shit? Stop pretending to be someone you are not. Because you shouldn’ t have to. Just do as the song says : “why don’t you be you, and I’ll be me?” which I have always found to be sound advice…

Do remember that despite popular belief, your life choice  is a not the Holy Grail of happiness, as you well know in your heart of hearts – you know, when you are laying in your bed at night, staring at the ceiling, making lists about the next day’ s thankless chores, realising that another identical groundhog day awaits you, that will feel exactly like the one you have been having for decades, your thoughts being punctuated by the snoring of the man beside you; or when you drive aimlessly across town with the radio blasting corny 80’s ballads (I’ m guessing Air Supply. Or possibly, Celine Dion) taking loops at the roundabout pretending you are waiting for the song to end, but really trying to avoid going back home, because this is the only time you have the right to be on your own with your own thoughts for five minutes, without anyone asking you to do something for them, or making you feel guilty for not doing it. If you cannot understandably admit to it, because then you would be forced to take a look at your life, at least stop acting all superior in the company of your single friends, just because you have chosen a certain kind of life that maybe for them is not ideal, but is in fact, the equivalent of a prison sentence without hope of parole).

And how about you stop bragging on social media about your “wonderful hubby” having taken your kids for two hours on a Saturday morning to the park, so that you could go and have your hair done? Given that he is not a baby sitter, and he is most definitely NOT doing you a favour: he is their fucking parent and this is his actual job as one. By “giving” you 2 hours to take a breath and feel like a human being, he is not proving that he is a “wonderful” husband, but on the contrary, that he is a major asshole, excuse my French….

And stop having boring, but carefully planned dinner parties with other married couples you hate, but for some weird, twisted reason want to impress nevertheless. Rethink your priorities! Take a good long hard look at yourself and who you’ ve become. Find out who you are as yourself, and not just as someone’ s wife / mother. Find who you are as a person NOW. Stop having the same taste in music, movies, books, politics you had the minute you got married, as if time has frozen on your wedding day.

Update your dreams, your goals, your life philosophy, your references (not just your hair colour and wardrobe!) Stop living in the same mental decade in which you were proposed to. The world has actually evolved in more ways than it now includes Facebook!

Speaking of which, do something other than spend ALL your spare time on Facebook, or in beauty regimes. Look inside for answers, not in self-help books and saccharine platitudes. Find something meaningful and important to you personally (as an individual, not a wife / mother) that does not involve bragging about your supposedly perfect family life on social media. And think about why is it so important to you when your loved ones (your parents, children, husband) celebrate a birthday or a special occasion, to make public announcement on social media, instead of privately? Why isn’ t it enough to declare your love and appreciation to their face, looking into their eyes, but you have this need to have all your friends as well as a bunch of random strangers become witnesses to the fact? Take a minute to contemplate on what it REALLY means.

Also, keep in mind, your way of life may be what most people consider to be the “norm” for heterosexual women, but is not the only norm out there. Given that at least in the Western World, (and at least theoretically) women are no longer seen as properties to be passed from father to husband. If you think that being married is the only way for a woman to live her life, don’ t assume that all women think that. And don’ t assume that being married is an accomplishment and being single a misfortune. Don’ t assume your life is better than that of your single friends. Maybe some of them need more complex things than a guy across the dinner table. Maybe your life is not a source of jealousy for them but rather, a cautionary tale…  

And if you had made a bad choice of a husband, you double-relinquish the right to shame your single friends for their lifestyle: I bet they too have met horrible, immature, cheating, boring and cheap men who lack intelligence, manners or empathy and who are really bad at sex. They just didn’ t find it necessary to attach their entire lives (and the lives of their children) to them. Maybe they ought to be congratulated and not shamed…

Even though as married women you belong in the majority, and everything around you (from religion and legislation, to pop culture) validates, celebrates and rewards your time-honoured choices and lifestyle, don’ t assume there are no alternative ones out there available and chosen consciously by women who value their independence. And even though you are just not used to hearing the “other” side of the story, because those who want to tell it often get tired of the backlash and end up shutting up because it is assumed to be a bitter tale of shame and loneliness and regret, I’ m here to tell it is not. I’m here to add it to the narrative of female existence. To say it is valid!

And by the way, you have no right to feel upset, angry or hurt by reading all this. Given that the world daily validates your own choices (even when your heart doesn’t any more) and you next to never get to see the other side (that of your single friends whom you possibly have shamed without a second thought  and possibly without even realising it) on a number of occasions…

You may not be exactly used to seeing how your own lifestyle is being viewed from the other side of the mountain (which is to say by many single women), or having your life choices being questioned by anyone, and so what follows – I get it – may come as a shock. Yet do consider how this “other” side is daily being viewed (and treated) by you: how you tend to see  single women as the cultural archetype of the dark (in fact hideous) side of womanhood. And how by shaming them and being condescending towards them, you are in actual fact exorcising your own worst fear: that you could have become them – if only you were not “saved” by a man – and how you find the idea of independence as frankly appalling. How you are considered legitimated in calling all single women “old maids”, “spinsters”, “cat ladies” (even when they don’t even like cats…), “hags”, etc, (or indeed “CRAZY old maids”, “CRAZY spinsters”, “CRAZY cat ladies” “CRAZY hags” etc) and all kinds of other pejorative things and how this is seen pretty much by everyone, as perfectly fine. Consider also that this form of discrimination is as cruel and stupid as any other form of discrimination aimed at a specific group, and how it is also so pervasive, so entrenched in our societies, so much allowed (unlike all other forms of discrimination which are seen as cruel at least by some!)  that it doesn’t even have a name. It is the discrimination nobody dares to talk about. A heterosexual woman who chooses not to marry is in fact the last taboo!

Stop being condescending to all single women, shaming them, telling them they too need to get married is what I’m saying. For the simple reason that they would never tell you, you NEED to get a divorce (even when they do actually think you do need to!). Because you know, it’s your life… But do take a minute to think about how you would find it to be utterly upsetting, outrageous, intrusive, hurtful and generally speaking a sign that they are not really your friends if they did say that. Now, how come you don’ t see that this is how you make them feel, when you constantly tell them their life choices are not valid, and they SHOULD replicate yours?

And if your single friends have dreams that don’ t involve your version of family life, it is not because they are not married, or because they can’ t get married. Maybe they are not married BECAUSE they had dreams that didn’ t involve your version of family life.

If they are successful in their chosen profession, if they have interests, passions, expectations, dreams, ambitions, and the desire to continue to learn new skills, and explore new possibilities, it is again, not because they are husbandless, It’ s because they believe they can! And because they need to!

If they have dogs, it’ s not because they are compensating for not having kids. Don’ t rule out that it is because they actually love dogs… You know, like you are allowed to, without anybody saying you are anything other than an animal lover…

If they play with your kids, it is either because they love your kids, or because they are just being polite, and NOT because they are jealous of you and spend their days wishing they were you!

On the other hand, if they don’ t play with your kids, it’ s because they don’ t want to, or even because they don’ t like kids (and women ARE in fact allowed to not like all kids, all the time) and again, NOT because they are jealous of you! (Plus, stop pushing them to play with your kids or hold your babies, like they are all of them baby-crazy…)

Also, how about you don’ t assume that they live sexless lives? Chances are, they have a much more satisfying sex life than you, given that they can easily and without the need of legal documents, explanations to parents, angry in-laws, lawyers, judges and priests, or indeed dramatic changes in their lifestyle, or serious lifelong consequences on their kids’ s outlook on life, get rid of the guy who is bad at sex, and move on to greener pastures, instead of actually having to live with him until they are in their grave, enduring his bad sex practices for an eternity and pretending to like it, AND clean after him on top of that! Plus bear in mind that when a woman is NOT actually looking for a proposal when going into a relationship, she is not feeling any kind of obligation to lie, fake it, or become some guy’ s sex service provider: if she doesn’ t like what she is getting, she moves on, instead of pretending, in hope of someday being rewarded with a ring…

Also, stop shunning your single friends from your social life, having those segregated, married-couples-only parties you love to brag about, as if the presence of a single woman on the same table with a bunch of married couples would contaminate the place with poisonous fumes, and then cause an epidemic of leprosy – or possibly a severe case of feminism, (which I guess is worse…) Plus, if they can include you into their own social life, even when all you do is have the same exact conversations for the last 20 years (about your kids having the flu and / or exams; your mother-in-law being a bitch; your husband not understanding you / cheating on you / being a cheap penny pincher who never gives you enough money), you can include them too:

Be part of your single friend’ s life, and attempt to communicate with them, not just in order to bitch about your husband in long phone calls that end up predictably – and given the example you are giving completely irrationally – with you adding that they too need to get married soon. If they are really your friends, and you claim to love them, be there when they are celebrating a significant event (hint: NOT all significant events are wedding-related / family oriented), like a promotion, a new house, a new shop, a gallery opening, an opening night at a play, or when they want to vent over a glass of Chianti, (you know, like you want to vent every fucking day of your life, over an entire bottle of the stuff). Because they have probably been there for you in every step of your own life’ s big moments: they were there for you (bearing expensive gifts!) when you got engaged, married, announced your pregnancies, had, then baptised your babies, and on every mind numbingly boring birthday party your kids ever had for years after that. They sat in germ-infested hospital beds with you, and hot churches, and boring graduation ceremonies, and ballet recitals, and stuffy birthday halls with creepy clowns and kids high on sugar, and they participated in all kinds of activities that bored them to tears and made them have dark suicidal thoughts, just because they are your friends and they love you, and want to be there for you.

Think about it for a minute, and drag yourself to their shop’ s opening nights, and gallery openings and parties and whatever, and while you are there, wipe that condescending smile (the kind that you save especially for anything that involves single women) off your face. You are not doing them a favour by being there; you are just being a friend! And they are not inviting you to an event because they are lonely and miserable and have empty lives, but because they love you, and they want you to be there for them too, and this is the life they have consciously chosen for themselves, which may be more than you can say about yours! They don’ t have events and things in their life on account of their husbandless state. They have events to celebrate because they have a life, yeah, regardless and possibly BECAUSE of their husband-less state). Their own special life events are not unworthy, just because are not part of what YOU consider important. They are important to them, (like yours are important to you!) so just be a human being and act like a friend for a little while, why don’ t you?

 Do consider that sometimes being single by choice, is about choosing to live your life with independence and integrity. Choosing to be free to do what you fucking want, when and how you fucking want it! Sometimes it is about being strong enough to think you deserve to have freedom of choice. Sometimes it is about living without putting all your expectations about your happiness, well-being and comfort, on someone else’ s shoulders. And more often than not, it is about being brave enough and self-assured enough, to live your life without depending on the wrong person. Or indeed being aware that two people cannot statistically speaking, evolve through the years on the same exact pace: they cannot continue to want the same things from life, love, sex and the Universe, as they did the moment they got married. Sooner or later, one of them will evolve (or devolve), in a way which will make the whole “ever after” thing become an exercise in futility and a waste of perfectly good years. Sometimes it’s because they don’ t need that particular brand of external validation, and they don’t give a rat’ s arse about being seen as a “normal” woman by society, or as one who fulfils her proper “gender role”. Sometimes it is about not needing a “special day” in order to feel “special”. Or it just might be that they take offence at the sexism of the whole wedding ceremony which is a product of Patriarchy: wearing a white dress and a veil that symbolically is meant to publicise her “virginity” to the world; having their father paying for the wedding ceremony in a modern-day version of a dowry; being given away (like a piece of property that changes hands) from their father to their future husband; or being given a ring to indicate that they are now the property of the latter who will now “take care of them” and get to prove that by the granting of the expensive ring, etc.. Not to mention losing even their very name in the process…

Not all women need all that you see. And they are in fact allowed to. Just leave it open as a possibility, is that I’ m saying…

***

Dear Married Women – Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications.

Read Also: “Dear Women” https://wp.me/s7jQTY-1588

Feel free to share on Social media

ART by Fanitsa Petrou: http://www.fanitsa-petrou.com


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Posted in Feminist Posts, In English | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Comments Off on Dear Married Women

WILL & GRACE – A Review

WILL & GRACE – A Review

(Includes spoilers)

 

 …I don’t know about you, but hearing Karen softly call Jack “Poodles”, just warms my heart…

***

The fabulous foursome of the legendary sitcom Will & Grace, (Eric McCormack as “Will”, Debra Messing as “Grace”, Megan Mullally as “Karen” and Sean Hayes as “Jack”) returned on TV last Thursday, and it felt like old times. The sleek fashion sense, the big hair, the spacious, bright New York apartment with the familiar knick-knacks, the elevated kitchen and the portrait of the “sad guy”, Grace’s office with the mess, the beautifully arranged flowers and the swatches, it’s all there. And it is strangely comforting to see that it is.

Yes, we’ve seen it all before. Yes, this is self-referential and possibly stuck in Time, but then again how could it not? This is not exactly done to recruit a new generation of viewers, who are favouring the single camera / no laughing track / unscripted / darker / “Baskets”-like (and let’s face it, mostly depressive) “comedies” anyway. This is for the legions of the fans who have missed this particular brand of broad, campy, looppy, loud, razzmatazz-y sitcom. The writers even point this out when they have Will say to Grace: “Stay as long as it makes sense!” warning us that this is how they see this too. “All those other times we’ve done this, we thought it would be different, but this time we KNOW it is going to be exactly the same. And that’s what makes it different”. And you know what? We are fine with that. In fact we are thrilled!

The four characters may have all aged a bit (and who among us hasn’t, I ask you?) but like it ought to happen on TV when it comes to beloved characters, they have not really evolved. Nothing much has changed: Will and Grace are still living in the same house (after they both apparently got divorced), and Jack is still a giant baby, still living across the hall from them, still looking for fame and having random hook-ups, and when it comes to men, still showing Will how it’s done (“you just pop out your contacts and get to work”). Will is still a lawyer, and doing the dry, sarcastic thing he does so well he might as well be British, and he is still (ironically) the “straight man” to Jack’s flamboyant outrageousness. Grace still works as an interior designer and still attempts to manipulate Will. (Not to mention still farts in elevators – though in her words that’s just “Fake News!”). Their relationship is still as dysfunctional as ever, as are both lying to each other, as much as they rely on each other too, and they are both still ready to betray their beliefs for success or love. The helium-voiced Karen is still rich and married to Stan, and still drunk to the point of occasionally blacking-out and having some pretty complex hallucinations that can apparently last for the duration of half a season! (More on that later). She is also still on Grace’s case when it comes to fashion choices, chanting that famous anti-Hillary mantra: “Lock her up! Lock her up!” whenever she doesn’t approve of her outfit.

The show attempts to get topical (but then again it always did!) with updated pop culture references right off the bat: Jack is on Grindr which he finds to be gross (and it REALLY must be, if he of all people thinks it is: “I feel like I could get finger-herpes just from scrolling”), on “Game Nights”, Charades has been replaced by “Heads Up!” and not five minutes into the show, there are Shonda Rhimes, Jada Pinkett Smith and Caitlyn Jenner jokes, while Will and Jack measure men’s hottness on the “Ryan scale” (“He’s a Reynolds-point-Gosling!”).

The business of the finale, which had Will and Grace growing apart and then being reunited after years have gone by when their respective children married each other, is on the other hand, dealt in a “Dallas” kind of manner: it was all a dream! A drug-addled dream Karen had! It turns out, there were never any children, and so also, no marriage between them. It – much like that entire Dallas season that was annulled as something the character Bobby Ewing has dreamed – never happened! “I had the weirdest dream,” Karen says coyly, and that’s actually as far as they go on that. “Got it?” Jack asks looking directly at the camera, as if to make sure we do.

This is admittedly not an ideal way to reconcile the past with the future of the series, especially since it means it asks of us not to just pretend the finale never happened, but also that a big part of season eight, (which had Grace meeting Leo on a plane to England, hooking up, getting pregnant, having the child, deciding to raise it with Will, and then having that horrible fight with him when she chose Leo over him) never happened either. But you know what? We’ll take it! If this is the only way this thing can be resurrected, (and I believe it is), I personally don’t mind it if it walks with a limp. Give it time and it will run like it used to…

Anyway, with that out the way, they all get down to business: first there’s a completely pointless scene in Grace’s office with her new assistant who is possibly Hispanic and I suspect is probably there just to fit the “diversity” quota and shut up those who will cry “too many whites”. (Unless the role is developed in a manner that gives the young man a chance to say more than “Ah… ah… I mean… I mean…” )

Grace is also being recommended by Karen (who is a Trump supporter and friend of Melania’s (as has been established on the #VoteHoney YouTube video) to re-decorate the Oval Office, while Will has a secret crash on an anti-EPA Republican senator and that’s how they all end up in Washington: Grace and Karen in the Oval Office, Will and Jack just outside in the “Rose Garden”. While there, Will flirts with the senator, and Jack hooks up with an old flame of his who is a Secret Service agent. We then move on to the desacralisation of the Oval Office so to speak, with Karen sitting Kellyanne Conway-style on the couch, reminding the American public of that moment that dominated the News some months ago, while Grace upon opening a keepsake box in Trump’s office, finds nothing more than a Russian/English dictionary and a fidget spinner… She also at a point opens ceremoniously a bag of Cheetos to check out whether or not her swatches go well with the president’ s complexion (which may have been a little bit crass, and something of an unnecessary cheap shot, not to mention a real gift delivered into the hands of all those Trump supporters who were looking for ammunition). Anyway, Will & Grace somehow even end up having an actual pillow fight in the Oval office – obviously as a metaphor of the many ways with which the White House seems to have lost its gravitas after the Trump administration has moved in. Incidentally, the White House employee who gives Will a tour a few minutes back, refers to Trump as the “New Owner”! “There’s a lot of new words they wanna us to use”, she informs Will. And later: “Rules don’t mean anything in this place any more” A point that is brought home with the pillow fight. Yet the strongest political comment comes when Will finds out that the White House is being redecorated and goes: “Redecorating for this president? What desperate fool would take that job? This is gonna be redone in a year…” implying of course that Trump will be impeached…

All four actors seem to still be at the top of their game, reprising their roles with that old famous pizzazz we have come to know and love. All in all, almost 20 years after its premiere, Will & Grace feels comfortably familiar, but also slightly different. It feels maybe  a tad out of step, partly because we still expect to see the thirty-somethings we used to watch (even if we don’t even see our own thirty-something self in our own mirror anymore…) but mostly, because this is a more cynical, darker world, and anything optimistic, sleek and fun, seems somehow kind of out of place in it… But then again, that is exactly why we do need this, more than ever. Plus, I don’t know about you, but hearing Karen softly call Jack “Poodles”, just warms my heart…

Speaking of Karen: The one thing that admittedly bothered me a bit, is how she seemed somehow changed not in terms of looks but rather of “energy”. Whenever the actress Megan Mullally (who is, like the other three, a comedic genius)  is being interviewed on any subject, she ALWAYS smiles slyly throughout the entire interview, as if she has a dirty secret, or as if she’s thinking about a really funny and filthy joke which she won’t share with us for the moment, but which still makes her smile suggestively. It is for the first time in all the years she’s been playing the lovable nutcase that is Karen, that her real-life / twinkle-in-the-eyes persona has been merged so to speak with her role, and we catch Karen at times having that same kind of sly smile, the same kind of “knowing”, mischievous, secretly amused look, which was never before there (They have always been two entirely different creatures, with entirely different energies and brands of  wicked sense of humour)Could it be because it’s been years since Mullally has inhabited the Karen character? Or is it because now Karen has a “secret” too (that of the dream/finale)? Or is it because Mullally consciously and cheekily wants to let us know that we are all in on the joke, in a “Hey-we-are-back! Watch-us-have-a-go-at-Trump!” kind of manner?

As for the criticism about the first episode being “highly-politicised” and anti-Trump, isn’t it only natural to turn political, given that this is the continuation of that “Don’t-Vote-For-Trump!” short video? Not to mention: isn’t it only natural for a show that has done so much in terms of normalising the gay lifestyle, to take a stance, now that the rights of gay citizens (not to mention, of women, and people of colour) are for once again being questioned and attacked?

Besides, if you used to love the original Will & Grace series (a show about two gay men and two women – one of whom happens to be Jewish) and you voted for Trump, a man who is doing his best to strip gay people and women off their rights, not to mention resurrect the hate against Jews (and black people) and you are perfectly fine with that, you need to do some serious soul-searching before you take offence at a sitcom being too “political”. When you don’t mind seeing your fellow citizens being discriminated against in real life, then maybe you should not mind so much if this fact is being implied on a TV show with fictional characters in a 20 minute long episode. You can always opt to avoid watching it by the way, but those who are forced to live in a world that rejects them, cannot escape it. If you are offended by just a TV show that speaks against your favourite president, imagine how offended countless people must feel, by finding themselves in a position where they are actually –as in, in real life – being discriminated against (or even at times facing violence)!

As for all those who claim that TV shows, TV writers and TV actors (and TV reviewers for that matter) have “no place commenting on politics”, they need to be reminded that they themselves have actually voted for a reality TV star(!) and have delivered into his (literally and metaphorically) tiny hands, the greatest political power in the entire world! In fact, there should be a kind of alarm-clock / gadget / cartoon-like thingy invented, with a holographic hand that comes out of their TVs and wakes them up every morning by slapping them on the face, until they realise what they’ve done. Maybe then – and only then – they will be entitled to profess opinions about how utterly “harmful”, “infuriating” and “outrageous” things like TV shows and TV plots are. But frankly, not a minute before that!

***

Will & Grace – A Review – Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications.

READ ALSO: WILL & GRACE in a Social Media World http://wp.me/p7jQTY-Bj

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More ART by Fanitsa Petrou: http://www.fanitsa-petrou.com


 

 

 

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WILL & GRACE in a Social Media World

Will & Grace

in a Social Media World

**

…come on young people with your selfie finger already tightly pressed on “Tweet”! Delete your 140-characters-long indignation. Go back to your gloomy, single camera, unscripted “comedies”, and your game-of-thrones-like shows with the well-directed Medieval barbarities, and the bucket-loads of blood, and the spilled guts, and the rapes, and the incests, and the endless anal-sex scenes. And let us have this at least…

…Grace’s yearning for romance and true love, and her need to find a life long partner, was not in any way, shape, or form seen as anything different, or more valid than Will’s own…

***

The groundbreaking sitcom Will & Grace, returns on TV, eleven whole years after its 2006 finale, and we couldn’t be more thrilled. This unexpected delight, was the result of the hype caused, when the cast was asked by the show’s creators (Max Mutchnick and David Kohan) to reprise their roles in a 10-minute video that was released just before the 2016 Presidential Election, in order to encourage Americans to vote (and also, NOT vote for Trump!)

The gang, (Eric McCormack as “Will”, Debra Messing as “Grace”, Megan Mullally as “Karen” and Sean Hayes as “Jack”, not to mention Shelley Morrison as “Rosario”) was happily reunited on the same set after all those years, proving that they’ve still got it: their reunion wasn’t just a piece of nostalgia, a case of revising a familiar recipe. It felt fresh and on point, and was still wickedly, hilariously, laugh-outloud kind of funny! The writers who in the original series never shied away from poking fun at otherwise well respected pop culture icons (like Angelina Jolie’s weirdness – back when we could still see it, Woody Allen’s ungodly union with his adopted daughter, Ricky Martin’s suspected homosexuality,  the shady details of Tom Cruise’s marriage to Katie Holmes, etc), were now having a go at Trump and Melania. Needless to say, the video went viral, reaching over seven millions vews. A fact that caught NBC’s attention, leading to two new, (albeit shorter) seasons!

In its original run, Will & Grace (which was directed by the legendary TV icon James Burrows), has had quite an impressive parade of big name guest stars, among them: Debby Reynolds, Madonna, Cher, Matt Damon, Elton John, Jennifer Lopez, James Earl Jones, Britney Spears, Sharon Stone, Ellen DeGeneres, Patti LuPone, Glenn Close, Kevin Bacon, George Takei, Geena Davis, Demi Moore, Barry Manilow, Joan Collins, Gene Wilder, Alan Arkin, Wanda Sykes, Andy Garcia, Janet Jackson, Mira Sorvino, Candice Bergen, and of course, Michael Douglas in possibly the best cameo of them all! Yet, it was not simply one of the funniest sitcoms, but also one that had left a pretty impressive social mark in the late 90s, early 00’s. With its portrayal of lovable and openly gay characters, it had pushed the boundaries and “normalized” gay people in way that no other piece of pop culture has ever done. The show also treated with empathy, sensitivity but above ALL else, laugh-out-loud kind of humor the coming-out stories of the two gay characters. But more importantly, Grace’s yearning for romance and true love, and her need to find a life long partner, was not in any way, shape, or form seen as anything different, or more valid than Will’s own. Even the American ex Vice President Joe Biden, when speaking about civil rights in terms of same-sex marriage, had acknowledged the show’s social impact when he said: “…I think Will & Grace did more to educate the American public more than almost anything anybody has done so far. People fear that which is different. Now they’re beginning to understand.” And what more, this was done not by preaching, or by self-righteous, self important declarations, but by over-the-top, vaudeville-like kind of physical comedy, cute song-and-dance routines, endless pop culture references and tons of light-hearted silliness. And that’s no small feat!

Yet, eleven years is a lot of time. The characters existed in world that was in many ways more innocent, just on account of the fact that it was more or less still unaffected by the social media’s profound takeover of society. We now live in a completely different universe: on the one hand, there is globally a tendency to return to “traditional values” (which is another way of saying Right-winged conservative politics that are for once again, embracing sexism, racism and homophobia with total and – unapologetic – abandon. Which means many will have trouble with the anti-Trump references, the irreverent humor and the normalisation of the gay lifestyle of the characters. We already had the first taste of that a couple of days ago, when the talk show host Megyn Kelly – she of the Fox News fame – was interviewing the cast, and when addressing a fan of the series who happens to be gay, she asked him whether or not his gayness was the result of his Will & Grace watching! In her words: “Is it true that you became a lawyer — and you became gay — because of Will?” (That’s some TV show right? Having the power to turn people gay!!! ) And that’s just only half of the problem, as at the other end of the spectrum await the liberals with their own, occasionally humorless agendas.

The thing is, social media has turned everyone into a critic. And has turned young people into the guardians of all that is acceptable, worthy, righteous and “inclusive”. This is the new form of discrimination ironically… Plus bashing other people’ s achievements has become the favorite pass time – if not the actual profession – of an entire generation. The political-correctness scrutiny will undoubtedly pick on this too, until there will be nothing left but bare bones, dressed in purposedly mismatched outfits and oversized grandfather glasses…

Will and Grace (even in that short new clip) has that pre-social media, we-REALLY-don’t-give-a-damn quality. It represents a more optimistic, a more generous, open-hearted era, when breaking the boundaries was the result of the creative process, and was not one’s chosen way of achieving social status, or gaining points in the “social activism” arena. Being open-minded, provocative, subversive was “organic” so to speak. It was the result of being yourself, and not giving a fuck about what everyone else thought, instead of the result of being conscious of what you should support or not, and then carefully and systematically making sure everybody else knows all about it too (so that they will reward you for it with “Likes”!)

Will & Grace also has a certain glossy aesthetic that was made popular in the late 90s, which will undoubtedly be seen by many as “dated”… It reflects a time when sleekness was still OK: in terms of costume design and Art production or even mood, it is shiny, it is glossy, it is unapologetically pretty, it is razzmatazz, it is light, it is silly, it is cheeky. It is fun! It has that feel-good thing we are no longer allowed to like… (For this alone, it feels out of step with our gloomier world) And it has the kind of irreverent humour that – ironically – could very easily be seen as “offensive” today (most things are anyway!) Each joke that was a few years back seen as controversial and ground-breaking, because it normalised gay people, will probably be seen today as actually damaging to them! When you are rewatching old episodes you can’t help but think that seen through the eyes of contemporary political correctness, Jack possibly represents the now utterly “offensive” stereotype of the dramatic, flamboyant, promiscuous gay man, who loves spending his nights “dancing on a box in a sequin tube top” (instead of, Oh I don’t know, writing an angry blog about LGBT rights?) While Will possibly represents the other “tired” stereotype of the tightly wound, sensitive, obsessed with cleanliness gay man (instead of the one who “likes sports” and by that shows that many gay men in fact do??)

When you go down that road, nothing is “safe”: maybe Will is actually “bullying” Jack when he sarcastically points out that he likes bars where “your drinks are being served by waiters in a leather thong and a dog collar”. Maybe they are all fat-shaming each other. Maybe Grace is actually “offensive” to lesbians because she once commented on their lack of hair products. Or because – try as she might – she just couldn’t be one herself! Or maybe the other characters are in fact “shaming” her when they comment on her chicken-eating habits. (Not to mention she should be a vegan. Or at the very least, favor free-ranged chickens and make a point of letting us know!) Or maybe her Jewishness is not portrayed in a manner that is 100% positive to her entire people. Maybe Karen by treating Rosario rottenly she is in fact offensive – by association – to ALL Hispanic people. Maybe Jack’s complete lack of parenting skills will be the focus of attention, and everyone’ s – heartfelt and serious – concern. Maybe Karen will be advised to join AA – or possibly find God. And maybe everyone’s politics will be seen as unacceptable: maybe Will is too liberal, Karen too conservative, Grace too clueless, Jack too indifferent, etc etc… On the other hand maybe the whole show is (if you are a Trump supporter) “too political”!!

Honestly you can’t really win this! (Not unless everything is homogenized, and every single joke is properly “sanitised” so that ALL groups are sufficiently reassured that they are as important as the next!) Once this political correctness can of worms is opened, all kinds of nasty things will crawl out of it, taking the fun out of this and causing – I fear – Network executives to rethink this: putting it off the air for good (like for REALLY good this time), or worse, forcing writers to take the “middle road”, and walk on the humourless “path of the careful”.

Maybe bloggers will be appalled and be personally insulted by the three-camera / laugh-track sitcom format (they REALLY do hate that, don’t they?!) And maybe they will spend the next months writing two-paragraphs-long angry treatises, accompanied by various tweets written by random people, (which in today’s world is the equivalent of fact-checking…) about the complete lack of “realistic” (aka: awkward and cringe-worthy) sex scenes, or the lack of “socially conscious” story-lines. Maybe they will spend the next few months of their professional lives dissecting each character’s flaws, and comprising lists that attempt to prove point by point how horrible they all are: “24 infuriating things that happened on Will & Grace”, “21 times (insert name) was a bully”, “18 disgusting things done by (insert another name)”, “30 times Jack was offensive to all gays: 1) His “actor / singer / dancer / choreographer so-called career, and his one-man “Just-Jack!” shows. 2) His references to Babarella costumes. 3) His stalking of Kevin Bacon. 4) His celebrating of half-week-versaries. 5) His Cher obsession, and so on, and so on…. And of course: “25 Things That SHOULD Have Happened on the Will & Grace Revival, But Didn’t” (This, by people who have never written anything other than said two-paragraphs-long blogs. Or a bunch of tweets…)

Maybe they will be seriously offended by the setup-punchline / setup-punchline fast rhythm, which they will undoubtedly consider to be old fashioned and parochial (conviniently forgetting that it is also the result of some serious talent…)  But above all, maybe they will be outraged with the fact that the cast is not diverse “enough”: None of them is trans for one (this alone should do it!) or black, or Hispanic, or Asian for that matter! Plus Jack is “too gay”; Will possibly not gay “enough”; Karen too rich; and Grace, Oh, I don’t know, “not much of a feminist”? Or possibly, “too straight”?

The bottom line is: these are four flawed, outrageous in-a-fun-mirror-kind of-way characters, which makes for great comedy! Can we just leave it at that? Can we just enjoy this? Not everything needs to be a vehicle of identity politics. Not everything needs to compulsorily include ALL forms of sexuality or ethnicity, all forms of religion, race, or social background in order to justify its presence on TV. (I mean isn’t that what Netflix is there for?) Not everything that does not include people of colour is necessarily racist – any more than not everything that does include them is not! Not everything that does not include at least one cross-dresser / bi individual, who is daily having existential crises, is in fact promoting transphobia. And not everything that has “Indie sensibilities” (which is another way of saying: includes badly dressed, moody, twenty-somethings who are apparently taking Uber taxis ONLY when it rains, smoke pot in crummy apartments, and are having sex on dirty futons) is in fact “artistic”. Some of it, is in fact just self-congratulatory, self-righteous, pseudo-morally-superior, depressive, full-of-itself crap…

And not all humor needs to be black. (Or the kind that makes you wanna take your own life). Not everything on TV needs to be gritty and edgy and dark. Silly is occasionally quite important too! (Not to mention it takes tons of intelligence and talent to do it right!)

In short: come on young people with your selfie finger already tightly pressed on “Tweet”! Delete your 140-characters-long indignation. Go back to your gloomy, single camera, unscripted “comedies”, and your game-of-thrones-like shows with the well-directed Medieval barbarities, and the bucket-loads of blood, and the spilled guts, and the beheadings and the rapes, and the incests, and the endless anal-sex scenes.

And let us have this at least…


Will & Grace in a Social Media World – Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications.

READ ALSO: WILL & GRACE – A Review http://wp.me/p7jQTY-C2

Feel free to share on Social media

More ART by Fanitsa Petrou: http://www.fanitsa-petrou.com


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Alexia’s “The Untold Story of Women in Jazz”- A Review

Alexia’s “The Untold Story of Women in Jazz”- A Review

Art & words by Fanitsa Petrou

“…as soon as she opens her mouth to sing, we are reduced to tears (actual, cry-out-loud, bellowing-like-a-fool, fumbling-around-in-our-handbag-to-find-a-tissue-in-the-dark kind of tears…) Like for example when she gave us that haunting, almost whispering rendition of Betty Carter’s number “Beware my Heart” – her voice becoming like light fingers barely caressing a piano, rain drops, wind that gently touches your heart before it breaks it in seven places…”

*

A couple of nights ago, the charismatic Jazz singer Alexia Vassiliou and her longtime band, appeared at Patticheio theatre in Limassol, Cyprus, in a concert titled “The Untold Story of Women in Jazz” which paid a loving homage to the great Ladies of Jazz.

She is a curious case this one: ever since her bright-eyed and meteoric rise as a pop star in Greece (what woman of my generation, and from my neck of the woods, hasn’t sang along with her «Τα κορίτσια ξενυχτάνε μ’ ένα μυστικό»?– a kind of Greek «Girls just wanna have fun») she had willingly given it all up, threw away her pop star crown as it were, in order to sing Jazz – and one imagines search for something more meaningful. And it seems that it hadn’t bode well with some of her fans from that time.

Her first albums changed Greek record sales history actually, and she is still to this day being remembered (even though most of her contemporary pop singers who had risen to fame in the late 80’s, early 90s are now forgotten) quite fondly, yet also with a certain degree of spite: she is still – after all these years – occasionally the butt of jokes in satirical TV shows, being mostly ridiculed about her heavy Cypriot accent and lack of pretensions. It is a compliment of sorts this love-hate thing the Greeks have for her I think, that doesn’t seem to go away even after she has stopped being part of the Greek pop scene for so long. It is obviously a testimony of the impact she has had on a generation.

This heavy accent thing has always been a sore point it seems. You see Cypriots are descended from the Greeks of the Aegean, and the Cypriot dialect is a significantly divergent variety that is more related to Byzantine / Medieval Greek (and up to a degree ancient / Homeric Greek) than modern Greek, with added sparse influences from Italian, French, English, Turkish, ect, (all the languages of the many nations that have conquered the small island in its long turbulent history of being a small island…) This makes the dialect’ s morphology, patterns, syntax, phonology practically unintelligible to speakers of Standard Modern Greek – unless they have been exposed to it for long periods of time – even though Greek-speaking Cypriots have absolutely no trouble understanding the Modern Greek vernacular, though they do speak it with a pretty thick accent… Modern Greek is the language we use at school, and when writing, or doing business, but the Cypriot dialect is what we use to communicate in everyday life. It’s the language we use at home to talk to our family, and as it were, to be ourself. Which means we are all in many terms diglossic, (even those who speak no other language than Greek) translating constantly things in our head all day long, going from one form of Greek to the other, depending on whom we are addressing. And people who are more true to themselves, who have a certain difficulty in pretending, tend to find this back and forth, and above all the adjustment of the accents a bit harder, I find.

Alexia was one such case I believe. It’s quite a dilemma Cypriots have to face: back when Greece was still not shoved deep into a nasty recession, Cypriots with artistic ambitions of any kind, would often turn their eyes towards the great Athenian metropolis, hoping to find success in a bigger, but still familiar market. Their “otherness” (which was the result of geography and having gone through some different historical circumstances, though sharing the same roots) on top of their accent, would either have to be disguised, or stay as it were, and become an obstacle. Both come with costs: Imagine someone from Scotland, Ireland, England, or Australia wanting to work in America and having to speak with a full-on, perfect  American accent ALL the time. Even when one can pull it of, it does suggest a certain degree of deceit, a certain degree of dishonesty of sorts, doesn’t it not? And a certain betrayal of one’s self too! And yet it is more often than not, expected from Cypriots who want to succeed in the “Motherland”, (while other dialects are welcome – the Northern Greek one, The Cretan, etc, mind you) In any case, her obvious Cypriot-ness (this alone could be enough of a reason) which she made no effort of disguising, and which was punctuated by her heavy accent, as well as her child-like naivety, her individuality, and a defiant disregard of how the fame game was supposed to be played, on top of her tendency to speak much too often – for any Greek to bare – about the 1974 invasion of Cyprus by Turkey, had put her in the eye of the storm a few times. Greeks adored her talent, but just couldn’ t quite accept all the rest, I think. And then on top of that, she up and left them… It was pretty unforgivable…

After her happy-pop-songs phase, she exhibited her restlessness so to speak and her thirst for something more, when she collaborated with the legendary composer Mikis Theodorakis, and right after that, when she recorded two albums, introducing to a new generation a bunch of beloved songs from 30’s-60’s movies, adding Jazzy, Bluesy undertones to them, to great critical and commercial success. She was by then, a Multi-Gold and Platinum recording artist, yet she obviously wanted more. And the Berklee College of Music Graduate, went out to get it, starting from scratch in foreign lands, trying her hand at genres of music (mostly Jazz and improvisational / avant-garde) that are by definition not everybody’ s cup of tea and offer no guarantee for fame and fortune. And there is something quite extraordinary about that you’ ll have to admit!

Her musical journey let to collaborations with some of the world’s greatest artists: Chick Corea with whom she created a gem of an album (“Alexia in a Jazz Mood”, 1996, which I’ll admit I still listen to often!), John Patitucci, Stevie Wonder, Chaka Khan, Andreas Vollenweider, Madeleine Peyroux, etc) and even to a Grammy Awards nomination for the Jazz Album, “Birds Have to Fly” (Best Jazz Vocal Album) She also created the Music Listening Method “Re-bE”– “a music programme supported by the Ministry of Education – for schools and the community, making music accessible to all”.

And this eventually brings us to the Patticheio theatre, on the 7th of September, where we find her at 53, 45 albums and 30 years later, in this concert that payed tribute to the great female Jazz vocalists Nina Simone, Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald, Anita O’Day, Betty Carter, Abbey Lincoln, etc. Her voice has matured into a complex and sensitive instrument that carries influences from all the above, while being unlike any of them. Yet there were still aspects of this concert that caused us a certain degree of apprehension:

Instead of appeasing her audience with a well known standard, easing it gently into the night so to speak, she went the other way: the concert opened with what seemed to have been the longest song in the history of long songs (“The Singer and her Voice”) which she composed herself, and which though beautiful, appeared to have lasted about 15 minutes longer than any song should last, and then we were introduced to two (or was it three?) more of her own compositions, before we moved on to the main course so to speak. Yet there were more obstacles keeping us from reaching it: each part of the concert that was dedicated to a different Jazz vocalist, started with her running off stage (though still visible) and the showing of a movie which was projected on a video wall at the centre of the stage, showing each one of them talking briefly about her Art and life. Then she would run back on stage reading long introductions in Greek, then English, about each one of them, (their struggles, their activism, their music or anecdotes from their life, and shared memories -she actually met some of them! –as well as occasionally translations of song lyrics, etc), and she did that with the same strange mix of child-like awkwardness, spontaneity, innocence, enthusiasm, vulnerability, lack of self-consciousness, as well as that Barbra Streisand-like, razor-sharp, pretty spot on awareness of the immensity of her talent, we have come to expect of her. The thing is, any form of public speaking can be a gruelling experience and we might as well face it, it’s just not for anyone (Personally I would rather die – as in actually die – rather than be in any position where I would be forced to be doing it.) As she was at times struggling, but still not giving up, we just wanted to run to the stage and give her a hug, but also I’ll admit it, whisper in her ear: “You don’t need all this extra stuff honey. Just sing! And let the heavens open!” And sing she eventually did. And boy, were the heavens opened wide as soon as she did, to let us see miracles and have all kinds of epiphanies!

All throughout the concert there were a number of moments (though never while she was singing!) when we were at times getting the same sense that we were watching a rehearsal: musicians (all of them excellent by the way) coming and going on and off stage replacing each other, three young vocalists (who were all barefooted but still dressed in completely different styles) appearing out of the blue for the long Nina Simone,  dramatic “Four Women” number (their rendition though good – even great at times – felt more like it was robbing us from the precious – and already reduced – time of listening to HER: The REAL deal!), the really bad acoustics with the much too high level of sound which unfortunately did not allow us to enjoy the endless subtleties of her extraordinary voice and the delicate nuances of her lower register. Not to mention that Adele-like moment (and they do share many of the same qualities, both being so authentic, so impulsive and unaffected by fame, so unapologetically themselves) when she kicked off her shoes and loosen up, possibly a little too much, as things started to unravel a bit by then, and it felt like we were entering a more improvisational part of the concert. It felt then like we were caught eavesdropping on a private rehearsal at her home, where she gathered friends to share music and hugs and food. This barefooted goddess creature (who has the heart and the enthusiasm of a child) who possibly cooked for them while she danced with reckless abandon – hips swaying, hands flying, heart and embrace opening to them. By then, we were half expecting to see cats, dogs, parrots, peacocks opening and closing multicoloured tails coming from the sides of the stage and climbing onto her lap…

Even though there is a certain unmistakable charm in watching a show where things are allowed to just be (or Re-bE?), you also kind of hope that there was at some point of the creating process of this whole thing, a stern, no-nonsense kind of stage manager, a director, someone in charge, who is good at saying “NO!” even to celebrities, someone who loves saying “well, that’ s just too much!” or “this just doesn’t belong here” (the type of person all Artists hate that is) who would try to hone, tight the whole thing together, organise it, keep it on point, and make it as polished, cohesive, and meticulously worked and professional as that extraordinary voice of hers is.

Jazz is a fluid thing that can defy structure and at times reside in the land of abstraction, experimentation and improvisation, but the thing is, the representation of it (when outside of workshops) still needs structure, so that the pleasure offered will be shared with the audience and not just be experienced by the performer: we need to become part of it, to taste this communion so to speak, to partake in the Artist’s ascend. This is about us – the audience – too, not just the Artist’ s pleasure (yeah, that age-old “Artist Vs audience / viewer” conundrum again!) But the thing is, she can get away with a lot, because as soon as she opens her mouth to sing, we are reduced to tears (actual, cry-out-loud, bellowing-like-a-fool, fumbling-around-in-our-handbag-to-find-a-tissue-in-the-dark kind of tears…)

Like for example when she gave us that haunting, almost whispering rendition of Betty Carter’s number “Beware my Heart” – her voice becoming like light fingers barely caressing a piano, rain drops, wind that gently touches your heart before it breaks it in seven places. Or when she sang Billie Holiday’s “Strange Fruit”, about the lynching of black people in the American South (that is sadly becoming relevant again): dark and full of the pain of an entire people, her voice like a sharpened knife that cuts purposedly directly onto your soul. The words coming out of her stabbing you, suffocating you, before you are led to the slow helpless resignation of the last verse “Here is a strange and bitter crop” leaving us gasping for air. (And for that damn crumpled tissue again…)

There is just something about that voice of hers that crabs you by the edge of your soul so to speak, forcing you to feel things, connecting you with forgotten pain, and sorrow still unfelt. With what has come before you – in terms of Jazz or the whole spectrum of the human experience and condition. Much like in the case of Adele, you feel that she is exposed before you too, coming at you like a train that runs madly, that is too big, too loud, too much. Her vulnerability, her humanity – which she is obviously unable to hide behind any armours of pretences – becoming visible right there before your very eyes, and you can’t help but vibrate on the same level.

When she sings, she becomes this extraordinary creature channelling the suffering of all those black goddesses of Jazz, connecting us with something ancient and raw and instinctual. But as soon as she is done, she turns back into this girl, like the ones you remember from high school, whose heart has remained untouched by time, with whom you want to just sit and have a laugh and some girly talk. A child, trapped inside the continent, the planet that is her talent.

As the show was coming to a closure and she announced that she would end it not with another Jazz standard as we have hoped (and after all, were there for!), but with her own composition about her birthplace Famagusta which has been occupied by Turkey, and which features so often in her work, her interviews and obviously her thoughts, we were left perplexed and a little bit annoyed. What was such a song, doing in a Jazz concert that pays tribute to Jazz icons anyway? In a time when even politicians have given up on the whole thing, I’ll admit it, even I, who am too very sensitive of the subject, just went “Oh for God’s sakes! Why?” But the thing is, as soon she started singing – lamenting really – this almost avant-garde song that had no lyrics only cries, in manner of oriental “amanes”, it felt like it was connecting us with forgotten roots, and memories unearthed, and pain so old, so raw, so heavy, so primal we just refused to acknowledge its existence but was still part of our deepest ansestral core. And then it was suddenly not difficult to see how this thing was in the end, the same as Jazz!

And you couldn’t help but feel grateful for having been a witness to it.

***

Alexia’s “The Untold Story of Women in Jazz”- A Review – Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications.

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Read also: “ADELE as an Alternative Pop Idol”http://wp.me/p7jQTY-11

ART by Fanitsa Petrou: http://www.fanitsa-petrou.com


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Posted in In English, Music Reviews | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Comments Off on Alexia’s “The Untold Story of Women in Jazz”- A Review

Married, not Dead

Married, not Dead

(Thoughts on Cheating)

Art & words by Fanitsa Petrou

…you wouldn’t  object to meeting, say, a winemaker in Provence who also happens to volunteer at a dog shelter, who would cook for you, and feed you peeled grapes while whispering in your ears all kinds of shocking things in French, and then take you by the hand and lead you to a balcony overlooking the Mediterranean with white curtains flying in the wind, where he would proceed to make love to you as if his life depended on it…

Marriage has evolved, (or so I’m told) but it is in any case, still not for the faint of heart, and it is likely – among other things – to force you to face the possibility of cheating. If that happens, and your husband cheats on you, know that you have two – and ONLY two – options: either divorce him, or forgive him. No third option available I’ m afraid. You can’ t both stay married to him AND not forgive him for the simple reason that your anger, self-pity, and bitterness will eventually eat you up from the inside and make you lose yourself. Release him. Divorce his cheating ass, take a breath and reclaim your right to live the life you deserve. Go out there and be free from the burden of your pain. Unless you are still desperately (and possibly foolishly) in love with him, in which case, stay. But if you do: forgive him. And there is only one way to be able to do that. And it’s a tough one, but it is also necessary. It is NOT about sharing the blame with him, in a “well he was obviously not getting what he needed at home so he went out to get it” or offering him the easy way out in a “men-will-be-men” kind of manner, as if you are not only the victim of his betrayal of trust but also the cause of it. Fuck that simplistic, unfair, misogynistic, age-old, shit. If he is just not capable of understanding what it means to be loyal, trustworthy, respectful and appreciative of the love he receives, or indeed able to keep it in his pants when in the proximity of another woman, that’ s on him. It has nothing to do with you (well it has a little bit to do with you, for not choosing your life partner more wisely, but that’ s another discussion) Don’ t allow him – or anyone else for that matter – to victim-blame you, on top of betraying you! But to go back: there is only one way of climbing that gigantic mountain of making things right again: you need to understand that you’ ll have to forgive him. But don’ t do it just because you need to stay married to him, since that’ s all you know in this life: namely how to be a married lady. Don’ t even do it “for the kids” (for their college tuition, and music lessons, and in order to spare them some difficult times), because seeing their mum unhappy, or watching their parents fight all the time, is not more healthy than living through a divorce. Don’ t do it in order to avoid to explain this shit to your parents, or in order to avoid being humiliated by your so called friends who are more likely to gloat than sympathise with you. And don’ t do it because he “deserves another chance”. (This is NOT about him actually!) Forgive him because unless you do, you will never be the same again. You will lose more than your trust in him – or men in general. Forgive him, so that this won’ t change you. Do it for spiritual reasons if you like. “Save” your own soul from the bitterness of the alternative. So that you will be able come on the other side intact!

And here’ s how you do it: by identifying with him! By empathising with his cheating sorry ass. Even if you’ ve never actually cheated, or even considered cheating on him, you gotta do this. This is not in any way the same as what has been happening for generations; namely women forgiving their husband’ s cheating because they were without any other options, because the alternative was living in shame and destitution. No, I’ m talking about a grown up decision to empathize and forgive, not because you have no other options, but because you consciously choose to. Because you still love the bastard. And because you need to heal.

So how can you empathize with cheating, when you have never done it, right? Women in general rarely do cheat on their husbands, by the way. Not just because women are naturally more loyal on top of having been groomed from an early age to place so much importance on the whole “sanctity” of marriage thing and all that, and they just wouldn’ t go around jeopardising their family and kids with the same ease as a guy, but also, because a man cheating is seen as practically natural, not to mention his male “right”, a woman ‘s cheating on the other hand, will be faced with some pretty nasty backlash and will condemn her as a horrible, disgusting, ungrateful bitch and an unfit mother on the spot, and possibly for the rest of her life! A woman who has been cheated on, will of course be seen as 100% responsible for her husband’ s infidelity (“She probably led him to it. She doesn’ t please him obviously. She let her self go / she is an old hag / a nag / a cold, frigid bitch.” etc) while the man who has been cheated on will be seen as a victim, on top of being a saint (“That poor man, having to put up with this shit! Who does she thinks she is? The ungrateful, shameless bitch! To go and do that! What kind of mother is she? To do that to her family! They should take those kids away from her. That will teach her! Sex-crazed whore! Poor, POOR, man! The things he musta put up with all these years!”)

Women avoid cheating also because men need a woman to be impressed by them, to laugh at their jokes, to be blind to their mistakes, to encourage their hopes and ignore the futility of any divorced-from-reality dreams. (Just like a mother!) They need lenience and non-stop praise. And lies. (Ah! the lies they need in order to remain “in love” with a woman!) Usually of the “you-are-the-best-man / lover-I’ve-ever-met” variety. And if lying to one guy and constantly pampering to his ego is exhausting, lying to two of them at the same time can practically age you… That’s just too much work… Who has the energy, right?

Plus, the sex thing: unlike men who are good to go with a lot less, sex with a complete stranger, is not often what is cracked up to be for a woman. Not to mention there are not that many men out there who are as good as they think they are, at it. Sometimes when you don’t know the guy, it’ s like he is trying making a bomb while walking on a tightrope using groceries and leftovers from the fridge: it takes a whollot of things to work just right. It takes a great sense of timing and some pretty nifty fine tuning, and all the correct ingredients in carefully measured doses, plus that other thing (that undefinable who-the-hell-knows-what-it-is “other” magical, chemistry thing) so that it can lead to a well-timed nova explosion (or – a girl can only hope – a series of ones), or else to a complete waste of perfectly fine ammunition… In short, what if the Swedish architect you are fantasizing about, is in fact a Swedish meatball? I mean there’ s always that. You may be jeopardising your family in order to exchange one mediocre, insensitive lover with another… (Actually it’s quite likely…) Plus there ‘s  always the danger that he turns out to be not just a bad lover but some dangerous, violent weirdo… And who needs that? The stakes are just too high for a woman, and the outcome may be one hell of a let down. If not dangerous. At least the guy at home knows where everything is by now… (He may not be often responsible for any major nova explosions, but hey, he at least finally has a map of the general territory…) So, yes, a woman will think it twice. And possibly think better of it… (BTW, most women would rather get to have a day alone at a spa or a five star hotel, than an affair! A long, undisturbed bubble bath, a glass of wine, a gossip magazine, and some music, room service, and a bed with crisp bed sheets she was not responsible of cleaning? Yes please! Being miraculously guilt-free for doing something for herself, on top of being left alone with her own thoughts for a few hours? It beats sneaking around with a stranger who God only knows what he is into, any day! 

Still, even if you have never cheated, you may still have had those moments when you might have pondered briefly on it, even for a second. Like when you were having a really bad day, and you thought you wouldn’ t object to meeting, say, a winemaker in Provence, who also happens to volunteer at a dog shelter, and possibly spends his weekends saving orphans, who would cook for you, and feed you peeled grapes while whispering in your ears all kinds of shocking things in French, and then take you by the hand and lead you to a balcony overlooking the Mediterranean with white curtains flying in the wind, where he would proceed to make love to you as if his life depended on it. And then – get a load of this – actually hold you, instead of turn on his side and start snoring. Or even – stop my beating heart – talk to you ’til dawn! Or those real-life moments when you meet a really interesting guy at work, who on top of that, seems to be interested in you, and (Oh-my-God!) actually gets you! Who seems to see you as you wish your husband saw you. Or as he once did. Who flirts with you, and seems able to actually keep up!! Maybe you have only shared a moment, or some lingering looks. Maybe you had an actual conversation with him and he even went as far as listen to you, not just waited his turn to talk or ignored what you were saying but still went on looking at your boobs! Maybe you’ ve changed your routine (and possibly your hairstyle) in hope of meeting him “accidentally”. And maybe, just maybe, your heart skipped a couple of beats, as he leaned in to press the elevator button, and you thought he may actually kiss you, and then you felt both relieved and disappointed when he didn’ t – damn it!

You would never in a thousand years (I won’t say a million though…) act on it of course, but there’ s a part of you that wishes you were “allowed to”, right? Because, you know, you can still feel things. Because, you know, you are married not dead! And that’ s where you will find that empathy thing we were talking about, my friend: in this realisation! In this childish need we all have, for a little bit of attention. In this yearning to be seen as adorable, as the best version of yourself by a stranger whose dirty laundry you will never get to see, or be responsible of doing. In this possibility that exists in that alternative and purely theoretical universe where no alarm clocks exist, no baby vomit is ever on your PJs, no worries about bills, no snoring or bathroom noises, no angry teenagers slamming doors in your face, no dirty dishes piling up in the kitchen sink, no man feeling free to pee in front of you with the door open (and then proceed to leave the fucking toilet seat fucking up, for the millionth, fucking time!), no meals that need to be made (and then re-made the next day, and the next, and the next, until you die…), no soccer practices and ballet lessons that take up your entire afternoon, no grocery lists, no pretensions of utter happiness when you talk to your girlfriends, no in-laws who never really warmed up to you, no vacations with couples from his work that make you wanna shut yourself in the bedroom and cry for hours, and no sex with the TV news on in the background. In that place, where you are still the center of someone’ s universe, and his reason for waking up in the morning. In that place, where the relationship is new and therefore not yet tainted by the everydayness of life, and it has not yet moved to that predictable for ALL marriages phase, where it’s all about what / where to eat for dinner, and what to do at the weekend, and then (and for years after that) about who is responsible for this or that chore…

You see, you too have days when you want out of this prison… (Not to mention more reasons for wanting out…) You too have this need for that something else. For that elusive wonderful other, who will do everything right and make the bad days bearable. Your husband went on and acted on it, without contemplating too much on consequences, possibilities, the other side, or you, let alone his kids. He probably does all his major thinking with his penis anyway, so it was probably inevitable. And, I agree, It makes all the difference in the world. But it may also be on some tiny level understandable. And if it is, and you still love him, then forgive him. And move on. But if that’ s just impossible, unbearable, and unthinkable, then it is time to leave. This is over. Face it. Save yourself!

Thinking about the possibility of another man is of course in no way equated with him lying to your face in actual life, and probably sneaking in hotels that charge by the hour, and having all kinds of intimacies and this whole other life with this other person(s). And don’ t let anyone tell you that it’ s the same! But understanding that they may be coming from a similar place, from a somewhat similar need, is what will make you get through this. Unless you can’ t. In which case, like I said, leave. Don’ t stay and turn into a bitter, angry woman who is daily drowning in a sea of self-hatred and repressed rage. Don’ t destroy everything that was good in you, spending your days planning little passive aggressive revenges, hoping to make him pay. And don’ t turn into this whole other docile, Stepford wife person either, who is daily cooking his favorite meals and having makeovers and cosmetic medical procedures, and hair colour changes and new diets, or who is all of a sudden very willing to do that thing she absolutely hates in bed, so that she will keep him from getting it from the other woman. That’ s not a solution. Why should you silence yourself, making it smaller and smaller until it practically disappears, leaving in its place a sheeplike thing that is too afraid to make waves? Why should you change your entire personality or your looks, and become this whole other person so that he will give you the time of day? How is that fair for you? How is his “love” – when it is only bargained and gained when you disappear – worth anything? Not to mention: why should he be “rewarded” for his cheating just because you feel so insecure you think it’ s your only chance of keeping him? Have a little dignity. Have some shred of self-respect for Godsake! Stop betraying your own self, as if being betrayed by him was not enough! Think of your options. You don’ t belong in your grandmother’ s generation who was proud of her long marriage, which was undoubtedly based on her silence and her fear and lack of alternatives and her ability to trivialise her husband’ s infidelities. You don’ t actually HAVE to serve him. It is not your “duty” to please him at all costs, so that he won’ t leave, so that you will remain married. And finally (FINALLY!) just open your eyes to the fact that this being married business, is  not really what you were told it would be.

And if it all gets too much, remember: there is in fact life after marriage! Lots and lots and lots of it, in fact…

***

“Married, not Dead”: Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications.
Feel free to share on Social media

ART by Fanitsa Petrou: http://www.fanitsa-petrou.com



 

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Posted in Feminist Posts, In English | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Comments Off on Married, not Dead

Man-hating Bitches

How about we talk of male violence, rape, abuse and discrimination, without feeling the need to add that “personally, we do love men!” (You know, how men are allowed to talk about say, the Holocaust, without also feeling the need to declare their undying love for 40’s German architecture… Or those truly well tailored Nazi uniforms…)

Man-hating Bitches

Art & words by Fanitsa Petrou

Note: The following, was part of a bigger article (“Trump’s Familiar Brand of Sexism”: http://wp.me/p7jQTY-gS ) which was published back in October 2016, just before the US presidential elections. I thought I would share part of it again, as it has – sadly – become even more relevant. Things being what they are. Things taking that many wrong turns for women…

***

After a tape was made public in which Donald Trump  is heard bragging about sexually assaulting women, saying that he is a “star” and therefore can get away with anything, including groping by the genitals any woman who happens to exist in his proximity, and the outrage it caused, he went on to issue a rare apology. Of sorts. He apologized, but at the same time explained that it was only “locker-room banter”, meaning the kind of thing men are “allowed” to say when they are alone, having their masculinity being validated in the presence of other men by their claims of sexually assaulting women… Yet it is interesting to note that despite being heavily censured by Republican leaders after the video was made public, they still support him! And regardless of the fact that his words have caused an outrage in the media, and even if many men – not just women – have publicly expressed their indignation, one wonders: how far off were his comments than what ordinary, everyday men talk about (and do for that matter)? How many of them think that groping women without their consent is in fact their “birth right” and one hell of a way to validate their masculinity? Statistics certainly reveal that they are many. As it was pointed out by Michelle Obama, it is something that most of us have experienced in some form or other. A woman being there, is enough of an invite and an excuse for many men to feel free to publicly violate her body and her dignity.

This brings to mind that famous, allegedly iconic photo depicting “the Kiss”, the shot taken at 1945, at the end of the WWII, on the V-J Day celebration, which shows a sailor tipping over his sweetheart and kissing her on the mouth. Sadly, the photo that we all held to be a symbol of romantic love, was in fact depicting sexual assault! Greta Friedman, the woman in the photo (who incidentally died recently) revealed that not only it wasn’ t the guy in the photo her sweetheart, but he was a complete stranger to her, who just felt free to grope her without her consent and kiss her, just because she was standing next to him.

In her words: “It wasn’t my choice to be kissed. The guy just came over and grabbed!” George Mendosa, the guy in the photo, never considered this to be too much of a deal of course. When he was interviewed in 2012, he said: “The excitement of the war bein’ over, plus I had a few drinks, So when I saw the nurse I grabbed her, and I kissed her.” Why ask her right? Interestingly enough, he was there with a date, a woman who went on to become his wife, and who was there watching the whole thing herself, which adds an extra creepiness to the whole event…

The open-mouthed kiss the Fiat heir Lapo Elkann planted on the mouth of the unsuspecting and unpleasantly surprised Uma Thurman at a gala at Cannes earlier this year, or the uninvited, and forced kiss Adrien Brody gave to Halle Berry on the mouth at the 2003 Oscars, come from the same place of male entitlement.

The “I had a few drinks” is of course still a very good and popular excuse when men are sexually assaulting or raping women around the world and especially on campuses all over the USA. (Of course women who are victims of rape while being intoxicated are seen as “asking for it”) In the widely publicized case of the student Brock Turner, who assaulted and attempted to rape an unconscious woman behind a dumpster (before he was interrupted by 2 students who were passing by), his intoxication was used as a good excuse for his behavior. What he learned from the experience was according to what he told the judge, (who by the way, gave him a six-month sentence because he was an athlete) is “not to drink”, and NOT “not to rape”: “I never want to attend a social gathering that involves alcohol or any situation where people make decisions based on the substances they have consumed. These things force me to never want to put myself in a position where I have to sacrifice everything.” Meaning his athletic career. What it meant for the woman to be fount in such a situation is irrelevant to him or the judge. He was of course, released from jail after serving just three months…

Similarly, when a 19-year-old homeless woman was raped by a drunken man in Canada in September 2014, she was told by the judge that it was her responsibility to be more “careful”, and that she should have kept her “knees together” so that her rapist (an aggressive, 240-pound man by the way), would be “prevented” from raping her. When she talked about the physical pain caused by the assault, she was told by this sorry excuse of a judge, that “Sex and pain sometimes go together; that, that’ s not necessarily a bad thing.” Sadly these are not rarities. Sexual discrimination by the juridical system is common when it comes to rape victims . It is for example quite common all over the world for judges to not hold rapists accountable for their actions, or often even justify them by shifting the blame on the sexual assault survivors.

Women on campuses all over the USA, the UK and elsewhere, are being drugged, in order to be raped while unconscious. The problem is so widespread, that in 2015, a video titled “Tea and Consent” was released by the British police in order to educate men in the apparently, very difficult to grasp concept of sexual consent. It uses animated stick figures, and a cup of tea as an analogy for sex, and attempts to teach guys among other things, that “unconscious people don’ t want tea, can’ t answer the question ‘do you want tea?’ because they are unconscious”… Who knew that it needed to be said? There are a lot of Bill Cosbys out there obviously – whose accusers by the way, are 58 so far!

Women are being told to be careful, to never walk alone at night, to carry rape whistles, to not go out, to dress modestly, to avoid eye contact in public transportation, to keep their head down, to live in fear. Next to nothing is being told to men however about not raping, about it being a crime and a horrible violent act. And when they do commit this hideous crime, they get away with it more often than not.

The American singer CeeLo Green, for example, was accused of doing the same thing: of drugging a woman who woke up hours later naked in bed with him. The DA declined the rape charges and even though the singer denied the allegations, he went on to make these suspicious comments on Twitter: “If someone is passed out they’ re not even WITH you consciously! so WITH Implies consent”. Meaning if she was unconscious (never mind that she was unconscious because HE drugged her in order to rape her) then it was all OK and it wasn’ t really rape. Someone ought to remind him (since he is so into technicalities and all), that if she couldn’ t technically say “No”, she couldn’ t say “Yes” either…) After the outrage his comments have caused, he later (like many celebrities in his place) had apologised (to his fans, NOT to the woman), and deleted his Twitter account…

On average, there are 288,820 victims (age 12 or older) of rape and sexual assault each year in the United States. One out of six women in the USA has been the victim of sexual assault or rape. Like in the case of domestic violence, the statistics of course only include the number of women who come out and talk about these matters openly, and are therefore added to the lists. The unreported rapes, remain unrecorded. The numbers of women who never talk about their experiences, including the women who are raped by their husbands, (given how they are being treated by judges and police officers, not to mention their families) are assumed to be much, much higher. But it’s a global phenomenon. In 2010 alone, 100,000 rapes were recorded in Australia, 200,000 in Egypt, 85000 in Britain, and as many as 500,000 in South Africa!

Things are worse in Third World countries and the Moslem world, like say in Afghanistan, where when a married woman is raped and dares to report the crime, she can be legally prosecuted and charged with adultery (like it was her fault), a crime that is punishable by death! (So she can end up dead too!) If she is single, she may become the victim of an “honor killing”, as in be killed by her own family because she brought “shame” to them (by being a victim of a horrible assault!), or more commonly, will be forced to marry her rapist and by this, give him the “chance” to extinguish his crime!!! (It is interesting to note that the Criminal Code of many countries support – or at least until fairly recently – supported this practise. In Italy for example, this article of law was still in use up until 1981, when it was finally abolished!)

In Bangladesh, Egypt and other places, women who turn to the police for help after they have been raped, are additionally forced to go through the humiliation and added sexual assault of the “two-finger test” by doctors and often plain police officers, which “determines” whether or not a woman is “habituated to sex”. If she had had sex before, she is therefore considered to be “guilty” and her rapist seen as innocent and justified…

In the Arab world, just walking in the street while being female, is an open invitation for men. If the women report the assaults, or merely mention them to their families, they are of course accused for being in the wrong place, at the wrong time, wearing the wrong thing, and therefore asking for it. Which is what keeps women hidden away, wrapped in their nigabs, and their hijabs, and their veils and their burkas. What Westerners don’ t seem to understand, is that many women cover themselves willingly, not simply out of religious notions, but in order to become invisible, to be left alone. To walk from point A to point B, without being attacked. Their veils are cover ups, are war tactics, are camouflage. (Because they live constantly in a war zone). For most of them, being covered is a matter of survival. They want to blend in, to be unrecognizable. Their beauty, shape and age undetected by gropers and rapers and murderers who consider it their right to assault them daily just because they are walking down the street, for being “arrogant” and “shameless” and “disrespectful” enough to be out of their home/prison, or God forbid, be without a male escort, but mostly for existing in the world! For not being males! (this being their biggest, and most unforgivable of sins!)

What would it take for things to change? For men to somehow reverse hundreds, thousands of years of misogynistic programming, and miraculously evolve so that they see women as human beings, (instead of body parts, and their rightful possessions)? One would think that it would take a revolution! And the Arab Spring was supposed to bring that about, among other things. To change not just the lives of people, but their perceptions, and their attitudes towards women. This is what all those women hoped for, and struggled to achieve, as they left their homes (a bravery in itself) and stood there beside men, shouting for freedom and liberty, in places like the Tahrir Square, in Egypt. But sadly, by the end of the day, it was made painfully obvious to them that things would not change for them. There would be no freedom for them, no liberty, no end to their life-sentence. In the midsts of celebration, the women present were subjected to mob sexual assaults, harassment or gang rapes. Hundreds of men would go after one single lone woman, surrounding her in what have been called by women “circle of hell”, taking their turns. The few who dared to report they have been assaulted, were forced to endure further assault by police officers who needed to personally “check” their virginity, because in that world, only a virgin can be raped of course…

Any large gatherings where women can be fount in the Muslim world, can easily end up with them being in the middle of these “circles of hell”. But Muslim men are not the only ones who would do such things. On December 31 2014, for example, many women in Germany experienced this nightmare, just because they were out, and in the proximity of men. 1,200 women and girls (aged from nine to 79!) were sexually abused in German cities during New Year’s Eve celebrations, by 1,000 drunk and aggressive men. It is interesting to note that according to “leaked reports” published by the DailyMail, only about half of the perpetrators, were foreign nationals (see: Arab refugees or immigrants of African descend) In short, let us not be quick to see this as a problem relating to the Islam alone… Western men aren’t above all that, given the opportunity… This is a problem not related to ethnicity or religion but to male violence and male entitlement! And that transcends all cultures….

Besides, isn’t fear the feeling you are most likely to feel if you are a woman of any nationality, found alone, in a large gathering of men of ANY nationality? Who can deny it? Don’t we all, even the strongest and bravest among us, keep that fear always at hand? Haven’ t we all been scared on some night returning home, walking in an empty street, or a park, minding our business working late in an empty office, or walking towards a car in an empty parking lot, being in a deserted beach, entering a Taxi late at night, being in an elevator with a stranger, or travelling alone? Don’ t we leave the lights on when we are alone, keep a friend’ s number on speed dial, or worry a bit (or a LOT!!) when we go on a first date with a guy we just met? (And statistics say that we DO have grounds to worry…)  Don’t we all take precautions we hope will keep us safe, and which we have come to consider natural, part of our routines, part of our lives as women? Isn’t that proof that our lives, though indeed in many ways different than the lives of our grandmothers, or our Muslim sisters, are not as different as we would have liked to believe? We are free to walk in the street, but not completely without danger. We are free to live as we choose, but not quite…

Before we feel dismay mixed with feelings of superiority when we are thinking about the horrible experiences of the women hoping for a revolution and finding abuse on Tahrir Square, we need to be reminded that the same thing happened to American women (and some underage girls) on many of the Occupy Wall Street camps! In fewer numbers yes, but it did happen! Just because some women fount themselves alone among large groups of men. That’s all it takes… And again, if we think street harassment (the “milder” of abuses) characterizes only Arab, Mediterranean or third world countries, we only need to read some to the experiences written by women from many Western countries (25 so far!) in the “Everyday Sexism Project” http://everydaysexism.com that is becoming like a huge data-base of the daily humiliations and public violations that are faced by countess women around the world.

So it is therefore quite understandable that when Donald Trump spews misogynistic (and racist) aphorisms with uncensored abandon, the many men who support him are still impressed by him! You can easily imagine a collective sign of relief, satisfaction and appreciation coming out of the mouth of countless men who think exactly like him, but thought they were not supposed to reveal it publicly. (Not after the fifties anyway…) And here is this guy who gives the impression that he has been living in a (possibly golden) cave somewhere, and had never heard of political correctness and Women’ s Rights and plain, common decency. Here is this guy who says all the things they were thinking all along! How could he not be popular, I ask you?

Besides, it is EXACTLY the same way of thinking that is expressed in the Rap music culture (some fine examples here: http://elitedaily.com/music/music-news/the-20-most-misogynist-lines-in-rap-history/) and also by most male, Internationally acclaimed stand up comics working in the English speaking world. All the good ones, all the highly intelligent, and exceptionally talented ones (from Eddie Murphy, and Bill Hicks, to Dave Chappelle, Louis C.K., Bill Burr, Chris Rock, Jim Jefferies, and Kevin Hart, even early Trevor Noah), have bits where they talk obsessively (Oh boy, is it obsessively!!!) about these things: how women are nothing but bodies to their eyes, and the countless ways in which they want to fuck them; how they feel like every woman is a gold digger; how they feel every woman they fancy ought to replicate every single humiliation they have ever watched pornstars endure for a pay check, preferably with the same kind of fake enthusiasm; how they love ejaculating all over their their face (because what is a male orgasm without that added kick of humiliating a woman with the most disgusting of ways?); how they are (just like Trump) constantly rating women in their mind, comparing them, hating them for every imperfection, obsessing about their various body parts, hoping these were not attached to a person, a human being with thoughts and needs and views and self respect. How they hate them when they are “bitches” (say “No” to them); and how they loath them when they are “whores” (say “Yes” to them); how they despise them when they are “ball breakers” (intelligent, well educated, articulate and with opinions of their own); and how they can’t stand them when they are feminists (not good sports when it comes to rape jokes…) How they judge all women primarily on account of their weight, age, and the size of their boobs and behinds; how they lust over them regardless if they are underage, or on occasion, their blood relatives. How they feel like they have (or at least ought to have) the right to grope them whenever they feel like it. And of course, how much they really REALLY wish they lived in the time when they could hit them and not get in trouble. This in fact, seems to be a very, VERY strong and common need in most men, if we take into account the comedians’ s perspective. And you feel like they do strike some sensitive chords, some hidden, collective, primal masculine need, as you hear the room pulsating with wild laughter, and you see row after row of men nodding in deep appreciation and inner gratification. The same sort of gratification that a certain – by the looks of it, a big – percentage of men feel when they hear Trump talk about women.

What is even more disappointing, is how many women often react when the news of events relating to sexual harassment or assault reach them. There is, it seems among women, an underlying fear that should they comment negatively about misogyny, they would automatically be branded as “man-hating bitches” or (The horror! The horror!) “feminists”! Whenever the news of sexual assault, harassment and discrimination against women reaches their Facebook news feed for example, or they come upon them anywhere on the Internet, they seem to feel the need to express in comments along with their dismay, their assurance that “not all men are like that”, that “the men in their life are by no means like that”, and “This has never happened to me personally”, and also that “these things happen to men too”. Nobody claimed that these things don’t happen to (a very small percentage of) men too (by other men, let us not forget!). And nobody mentioned their husbands, why are THEY bringing them up?

This is an issue that needs to be addressed. We don’ t rush to add whenever we are faced with news about a guy who steals cars, or kills kittens that “hey, not all men steal cars you know!” or “hey, my husband never killed any kittens, all right?” It is assumed, you know what I mean? And therefore it does not need clarification. And we are not branded as “haters” if we call such crimes hideous! And yet whenever sexual crimes against women are being committed, speaking against them, or even about them, often brands women as “man-haters”. It is therefore not surprising that their concern is to be excluded from this category by validating the men in their life. By offering the reassurance that their masculinity is intact, that their own dismay about other men, won’ t affect them personally. Of course, the fact that they feel justified in thinking that, is indicative of the fragility of this type of masculinity and also, of women’ s deep seated insecurities, and secret fears about the true nature of their own relationships with men. It is also indicative that we have a long, LONG way to go…

In any case, whether or not we have experienced the same kind of things is irrelevant. As women, we should make an effort to stop thinking that being a feminist is about hating men or sex, or that it only concerns women who have faced abuse, or have had horrible experiences with men. Not having a terrible marriage, or not being personally a victim of assault, should not stop us from talking about it, wanting to protect the victims, or attempting to stop  what has caused them pain, by at least attempting to change perception about women’s place in this world! We should live in a bigger world than the one defined wholly and exclusively by our own personal experience. We ought to be concerned about and involved in social change! Become interested and even active in politics, even if our life is pretty secure. We shouldn ‘t see our own life circumstances as the rule by which all things are measured and judged! If for example, we have been blessed to find an understanding, loving, life partner, we shouldn’ t assume that there are no insensitive, abusive, horrible ones out there, for the same reason that just because there is food on our table, it doesn’ t mean there are no people dying of hunger in the world; just because we live in a country where there is no war, it doesn ‘t automatically mean there is World Peace; and just because we were never the victim of a crime, it doesn’ t mean they don’t happen all the time, etc. Let us not diminish any other woman’ s experience, by always comparing it to our own. And let us keep in mind that the women who talk of the injustice and violence, or discrimination experienced by women all over the world, are not necessarily personally victims of violence themselves, and it is not a comment on their own relationships with the men in their life! (Not to mention they should not be made to feel like they ought to clarify that all the time!) How about we face the reality of misogyny, and male entitlement and male violence without being called man-haters or feeling like we need to make excuses for them? How about, we stand beside our sisters who have been mistreated, degraded, violated without feeling like our own partners will be justified in taking offense?!

Let us not forget: even if we were blessed to live a good life, the world is largely still a hostile place for women and girls! How about we stand beside our sisters, the women and under-age girls who have been used, abused, humiliated, raped, tortured and murdered, (often by their loved ones); the women who were branded and sold like pieces of meat; the baby girls who were killed at birth on account of their sex; the toddlers and young girls who were sexually abused or forced into child marriages with grown up men and whose lives is an endless torture; the women who were victims of human trafficking and those who were forced to suffer female amputations and sex slavery… How about we talk about the countless women who are taken from their homes and their families, in times of war all over Africa or now Syria, in order to be passed from soldier to soldier like things, before they are killed because they are rendered “useless” to them as they become fatally sick after years of non stop abuse? How about we talk of the nightmare marriages of women in the Middle East (and elsewhere), whose husbands (and fathers) are taught from an early age that it is not just their “right”, but their actual religious “duty” to hit them daily? How about we talk about the endless generations of women whose lives were wasted in arranged marriages with men they have not loved, or even met before their wedding day. How about we talk about the many places in the world where women still do not have the right to vote, to be educated, have a job and their own money, have a say in the way they want to live their lives, or be considered actual human beings?! How about we face rape culture, pedophilia and the sexualization of young girls in the media? How about we face the fact that men’s perception of women and sex, is in the last 10-15 years heavily influenced by their obsessive watching of Internet porn? How about we face the realities of social media and Western pop culture, which view women as bodies and nothing else, and which makes young girls believe it to be true?

And how about we talk about all that, without feeling like we need to always haste to add: “some men are also victims of violence in the hands of women, too”, not just because the numbers of such incidents are staggeringly small, compared to the overwhelming numbers of female victims, or even because when a woman commits a crime against a man it’s because she’s been more often than not his victim for years, but because such an argument deliberately and slyly diminishes the importance of the fact that being born a female, is for countless women and young girls around the world, literally equated with life-long violence, humiliation and fear. Such an argument – which always aims to sooth the male ego – is an additional insult to the millions of women around the world who are facing daily violent realities.

How about we bravely speak about the violent nature of countless men out there, without the constant fear that we also need to be protecting “traditional” masculinity, which is apparently so fragile, that it needs constant gratification and protection,  even when it is not the victim but the perpetrator? How about we talk of male violence, rape and abuse and discrimination, without feeling the need to add that “personally, we do love men!” (You know, how men are allowed to talk about say, the Holocaust, without also feeling the need to declare their undying love for 40’s German architecture… Or those truly well tailored Nazi uniforms…

How about we create a world where women can actually walk in an empty street at night and not be in danger?

How about we talk openly about how bad relationships and sexism are common, without being seen as speaking from a place of bitterness?

And how about we teach our sons not to rape, rather than teach our daughters to always live in fear? How about we teach them that women are not just bodies? How about we teach them, that sex requires the other person’ s consent!

And how about we teach our sons to be accountable for their actions! How about we resist the granted, overwhelming urge to overindulge them, even when they are possibly the only males in our lives who actually think we deserve their respect?

How about we teach them they don’ t always have to prove their masculinity by acts of physical power and violence – or by their lewd comments. Or by anything. (They ARE males. It’ s a done deal. Teach them to relax already. There is no need to continue having to prove it all the time, because the ways they choose to prove it, are always ALWAYS victimizing women, girls and other, less powerful men)

How about we stop praising our sons every time they make lewd, degrading and sexist comment that reduce women into body parts? How about we teach them about empathy and that it is not OK to judge women (or anyone) only by their looks?

How about we teach them that it is OK to be gentle and kind and empathetic, and that being violent is NOT equated with being a man! How about we stop being scared that any display of sensitivity on their behalf is also a display of homosexuality? How about we start being concerned about their violent tendencies, instead of encourage them from an early age, seeing them as signs of being on the “right” track of become “normal” heterosexual males? How about we stop being proud about their violent behavior, which in turn results in a society that is increasingly more and more violent? How about we stop being scared of having a gay son so much, that we eliminate any signs of sensitivity and kindness from his heart? How about we realize that in any case, there are far, FAR worse things in this life than having a gay son (like having an abusing heterosexual son for example!) And how about we realize that being respectful of other people’ s feelings, bodies and space, being empathetic, and having a heart – whether you are man or woman, heterosexual or gay – are only good signs!

And how about we teach our daughters that they are more than bodies with an expiration date? How about we teach them to have the kind of self-respect that stops them from being in constant need of validation by men, even when they are abusive.

How about we teach them to be brave and self-sufficient, instead of teaching them to be scared and in need of a rescuer? How about we teach them to have ambitions and to work hard so that they will always be financially independent and so have options in this life, and not be forced to hope for nothing better, nothing bigger than finding a guy who will take care of them, (and who therefore, will predictably feel entitled to control them)?

How about we teach them that it is OK to look exactly the way they look, and that they are worthy of love (and really mean it!) even if a guy says he doesn’ t think so. How about we teach them to have dreams other than being pretty, thin, not ageing and finding a husband? (And to do it also by our example!)

And how about we teach them that when they will get old, they will still be them, and for a man who actually deserves their respect, they will still be his beloved?

How about we teach them both – the sons and the daughters – about dignity?

(Where would Trump – or anyone of his kind – be then, I ask you?)

Wouldn’ t that be something? 

Would that be some world?!

***

“Man-hating Bitches”: Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications.
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ART by Fanitsa Petrou: http://www.fanitsa-petrou.com



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Made to Measure

Made to Measure

~ The Dystopia is near – Part III ~

By Fanitsa Petrou

Their very nature, their very anatomy becomes the enemy that needs to be fought, controlled, altered, “Homogenised”, “assembly-lined”, in order to meet the “quality standards” of porn addicts.

Female genital mutilation/cutting (FGM/C) refers according to the U.N. to “all procedures involving partial or total removal of the female external genitalia or other injury to the female genital organs for non-medical reasons. It is according to Unisef “a global human rights issue” and it has happened to at least 200 million women in 30 countries (half of them in Egypt, Ethiopia and Indonesia) The majority of these females were cut before reaching their fifth birthdays, though it can happen at older ages as well. According to UN statistics, countries with the highest prevalence among girls and women aged 15 to 49 are Somalia 98 %, Guinea 97 % and Djibouti 93 %.

Even though it is often justified as an acceptable “tribal tradition”, a “religious custom”, or a “coming of age ritual” it is a barbaric, misogynistic practise that is specifically aimed at controlling (in fact prohibiting) a woman’ s sexual pleasure. Much like in the case of Ofglen in “The Handmaid’ s Tale” fictional universe, women’ s genitals are cut to ensure that they will become unable to feel sexual pleasure, even to ensure that sex will be a painful experience for them, so as they will never seek it outside of the marriage! Uncircumcised women are generally seen as “highly sexualised”, while women who have undergone this ritual are seen as “docile” and therefore marriageable. The Lebanese-born writer Mona Eltahawy mentions in her book “Headscarves and Hymens”, how whenever parents decide to go against tradition and refuse to force their daughter to go through this humiliation, it is very likely that when she gets married she will be returned to them like “damaged goods” when on the first night of the marriage her new husband will find out that she was not cut. He will then give them the choice of forcing her to be cut and sent back to him ready for business, or “keep” her, in which case, he’ll divorce her, forcing her to live in shame… So it’s a nice little conundrum.

Men with deeply ingrained misogynistic views, have always been threatened by the mere “Otherness” of females, which they consider to be offensive and  threatening (since males are in their eyes the “default” human beings and all that). Think of Victorian physicians for example, who were convinced that women’ s “wandering” wombs were “abnormal” (just because men didn’t have them!) and therefore they considered them to be the cause of all female psychological and physical problems and how they would go on to remove them, as a panacea that cures all maladies. (Countless women were butchered in the hands of doctors who needed to prove their woman-hating theories) Sexist men are also threaten by the idea of women being capable of experiencing pleasure during sex and (the horror! the horror!) by the idea of having a special organ dedicated especially and exclusively to this blessed purpose, as if Nature itself contradicts them, telling them that despite what they have been taught for generations by angry religious leaders, women are not created just in order to serve and please men, but are capable of experiencing life and pleasure, themselves! And this is just too much! That is why the clitoris has always been seen as a scary and mysterious thing.

A penis can be used for sex, for urination, for procreation, but the female body is far more complex machine with “specialised” parts, that even includes the clitoris, which is the ONLY part of the human anatomy whose only purpose is to cause orgasms! When the real purpose of the clitoris was first “discovered” by a 16th century Venetian physician, it was so shocking that he ended up being accused of Satanism by the Church, in a “if-women-can-experience-pleasure-like-men-then-they-must-be-possessed-and-so-is-anyone-who-claims-it” kind of manner… (see: Federico Andahazi’s, “The Anatomist”) The very idea of women being capable of experiencing pleasure (let alone pleasure which is not directly related to their precious penis!) is an offensive and deeply disturbing concept for sexist men, that contradicts all their Patriarchal notions and for this alone, it needs to be cut. And so it is. A female sexual awakening can also lead to self awareness, and independence, and in turn, a thirst for freedom and choice, and all kinds of other “dangerous” things that can undermine a man’ s authority over his wife, whose reason for existence is in his eyes to be his compliant, life-long sex slave, not his true partner!

Female genitalia are also cut, in order to make women “more feminine” (talk about WTF…), and because they are considered to be “disgusting” and “unclean”! Reasons that are also given to justify the common demand of men in the Arab world to have women be completely free of pubic hair, (just like children) because any sign of adulthood is associated with sexual maturity, and that’s just a bad thing for females… Yet, before we feel outraged at these “Third World” notions, we need to remind ourselves of the increasingly large numbers of Western women who are having plastic surgery (not to mention Brazilians) in order to “smooth over” the natural form of their female genitalia, so that they look more like the surgically altered and completely hairless women in porn, with whom their partners are obsessed and consider to be “natural”! Women are willingly becoming nothing but an aperture, a “clean” penis-receptible, a smoothed-over female Ken doll with a “front hole” (see: http://wp.me/p7jQTY-ut)  They too were brainwashed by the sexism of modern-day culture that is heavily influenced by the “aesthetics” of porn, and have come to believe that they exist in this world in order to please and be pleasing… Even if it means they are literally going through painful, costly, and even hazardous to their health (not to mention completely unnecessary) procedures in order to be mutilated. Their very nature, their very anatomy becomes the enemy that needs to be fought, controlled, altered, “Homogenised”, “assembly-lined”, in order to meet the “quality standards” of porn addicts. How fucking sad is that, I ask you?!

Young girls are also sewn up like sacks of potatoes, to keep them from losing their virginity (and safeguarding that their future husband will be satisfied in his demands to get a girl who does’t know any better) while married women can be sewn up or, even glued (!) by their husbands in order to ensure that they won’ t cheat on him  in his absence or even as a form of punishment when they are suspected of having sexual thoughts… A case comes to mind which has reached the news in the last few days, that of man from Qatar who actually glued his wife’s genitals before going on a business trip abroad, because she liked a picture of his 12-year-old cousin on Facebook, which was apparently a sign that she had “adulterous ideas”… He was sentenced to a small fine, while she was subjected to 100 lashes (on top of being glued like an Arts & crafts project that it…)

Female mutilation is also done for a much creepier reason: because it apparently increases a man’s sexual pleasure, which means it is not going to be eradicated any time soon… Which brings to mind the real reason why Chinese women were taught to bind their feet together: not only because it would give them that little, dainty “feminine” gait of theirs with the tiny, timid steps (which was the result of seriously deformed feet and excruciating chronic pain) and not just because the simple act of walking would become such a torment that it ensured they would be docile and domesticated, restricted at home, unable to participate in social life or take part in politics, but also for sexual purposes: the binding of their legs which would literally cripple them, also caused them to walk on their heels and this would in turn cause certain changes to occur in their genitalia, that would apparently enhanced a man’ s pleasure… They were not real human beings; they were nothing but things after all. Soulless sex toys, made to measure…

This inevitably also brings to mind the Bedouin custom of men offering a big golden bracelet to the girl they want to marry, so that she will wear it on her ankle, and then strive to gain enough weight until it would fit her tightly, and by that, indicate that she is sufficient fatten for marriage (like a calf!) Or indeed the African custom of isolating and force-feeding young girls for marriage like cattle, in places like Mauritania or Nigeria, just because that’ s what men like the most in that region. Not to mention how Western girls and women are literally starving themselves or having all kinds of plastic surgery, or the exercise regime of a decathlete, just because Western men are currently obsessed with thinner, muscular, androgynous figures with big breasts…(another by-product of “porn aesthetics” that are being seen as the norm: the body of an emancipated, yet athletic prepubescent boy/girl with the breasts of a lactating mother…) Whether women are fatten, or starved, cut or pierced, exercise like they are going for the Olympics, or wear the kind of heels that – like the Chinese ladies of old – render them unable to walk on their own two feet, all in order to alter themselves and fit the specific criteria of men, it is the same thing: women within Patriarchy are nothing but their bodies. And the only way they get to have any power in this world, is by having a power over a man ’s hormones… A man who will get to judge, approve, reward, save them because he fancies them. Which is to say control them, and by doing that, offer them a reason of existence in his universe. And that’s just sad.

But to go back: female genital mutilation is a horrible crime, yet it is often not seen as one. But what if it did not concern women? What if it was done to men (and BTW, don’t go telling me that FGM and jewish circumcision which does not affect negatively a man’s sexual experience, health or dignity, is in any way the same thing!)? Can you imagine for example the kind of outrage it would cause if say just 10 or even 20 men were forced in some place in the world to have a similar mutilation and were forced to have their genitals cut off for “cosmetic” or “cultural” reasons? And what more, can you imagine that these 10 or 20 men were cut in a way that it would prohibit them from feeling sexual pleasure, on top of causing them infections, life-long pain and health problems? Can you imagine the news frenzy? Can you imagine how horrible we would all find this to be? (and very rightly so!) How inhumane, how cruel, how unthinkable? Now can you imagine the absolute rage it would cause, if this was done in order to somehow increase their wives’ pleasure, while sacrificing their own? How utterly disgusting, we would think these wives to be, right? And yet, because the victims are women, (in fact 200 millions of them!), and because this concerns male needs, male pleasure, we remain unmoved. We do nothing. It is just not seen as nearly as bad, as it would be, if the victims were men. If their own health, their own bodies, or – God forbid – their own orgasms were at stake, this would be a completely different matter. It’ s just the way of the world, we say. It’s a “cultural” thing. It’s just a custom. It’s the way things are being done for centuries. It’s just women… It’s just girls…

And so, girls and women continue to be are cut – often with blunt, unsterilised knives – often by other women, who like the “Aunts” in “The Handmaid’ s Tale” are taught that this is the norm, this is what women should be like, if they ever want to get married), who come into the night for them, cutting them while they are bleeding and screaming wildly in pain, causing them to get infections and life-long health problems. All so that the guy who will agree to marry them, will increase his own pleasure and get to be certain that his wife won’t like sex, and therefore won’t ever cheat on him.

How fucked up is that, I ask you?!


For links (sources, statistics & suggested reading: scroll down, at the bottom of this page (where this article is repeated): http://wp.me/P7jQTY-yx


Made to Measure / The Dystopia is near – Part III”- Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorised use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications. 

Check out Fanitsa Petrou’s ART here :  http://www.fanitsa-petrou.com

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Posted in Feminist Posts, In English | Tagged , , , , , , , | Comments Off on Made to Measure

The Cold Reality of Numbers

The Cold Reality of Numbers

~ The Dystopia is near – Part II ~

Art & words by Fanitsa Petrou

 

…men are really outraged, because a single movie theatre in Austin, Texas, “violated their rights” when it decided to do a women-only screening of ‘Wonder Woman’,  on account that it is the true rarity of a female super-hero movie. Men found their exclusion  to be really “offensive”. They went on to express a deep concern about “REAL equality”. (Not to mention a remarkably gigantic, lack of sense of irony)

Upon sharing my last two articles on Social media (“The Dystopia is Near – Marching Towards Gilead: http://wp.me/p7jQTY-vW  & “The Handmaid’s Tale – The Stuff Female Fears are Made of“: http://wp.me/p7jQTY-uY) that refer to the real life parallels between to “The Handmaid’ s Tale book / TV show and present-day America, I was being repeatedly told by men the kind of things that I would not care to repeat; and I was also being told by women that “things are not that bad” and “not all men are like that, now take my husband for example…” Women apparently need, (not just want) to believe that male violence is not a reality, and that it only exists in a feminist’ s mind. I find that to be both disturbing and understandable.

I turn here to numbers, and I leave them to tell the story. To show the grim patterns that are being formed by them. And to warn that maybe the “dystopia” is indeed already here. Unless we (both men and women) open our eyes to it.

Women and girls are being daily harmed by gender-based violence, which can take many forms. Yet, the act of simply repeating UN statistics, is seen as hostile, and it can characterise a woman as “aggressive” towards men. In fact, it is the only case when the mere reporting of a crime can cause more negative hype than the crime itself, and this should tell us a lot about our perception of gender roles, and the power of Patriarchy! If you are a Western woman, it can almost without fail, lead to threats, Internet bulling, nasty name-calling of the “you-are-a-man-hating-bitch-who-needs-to-be-raped” variety, and even to actual violence. But obviously, if you are a Moslem woman, or one coming from the developing World, it is a revolutionary act, as it can as easily lead to jail, or your grave.

Men use violence against women that is motivated by a competition for dominance, an entitlement mentality and feelings of sexual ownership, which is another way of saying, because they feel it is their right, because they are taught that it is OK, and because they like it… In fact, male aggression and violence are a real epidemic, an on going war that gets bloodier and nastier with the passing of each year. Yet, whenever the conversation about male violence is attempted, one is very likely to be faced with the usual “not-all-men” narrative, that is meant to sooth the male ego, and assure the men in our lives that this is not about them at all. And by the way, if they are not violent, that is correct: it is NOT about them. It is however very much about the great numbers of men who ARE very much that: men commit 99% of all sex crimes, 85% of all violent crimes in the Western world (and 90.5% of all murders, and 70 out 71 mass murders in the U.S. alone). The remaining perpetrators are women, though it needs to be said that a great number of these women, use violence in self-defence, their crime often being the last act after years of abuse they have suffered in the hands of the men they’ ve killed, or attempted to kill – and this is a detail that needs to be taken into account! Yet whenever the stark, cold reality of statistics reveal the ugly truth about femicide, the rape epidemic, human trafficking, sexual slavery, pedophilia, child marriages between little girls and grown men, incest, domestic violence, we are told that, “hey, women can also be violent”. And so they can. But the thing is, they mostly aren’t. The thing is, they are mostly the helpless victims of violence. Millions, and millions of them. And generations and generations of them too. 

We are also predictably being reminded by women, that the men in their life are “great” and it is apparently meant to be offered as a proof that men in general are that. But again, how is that in any way related to the countless variations of hell, countless women and girls are experiencing every day in the hands of all those millions of “other” men? How can one’ s own partner being “great”, make the reality of the guys who sell their daughters into sexual slavery, or those who “exchange” them like commodities in order to get a new bride for themselves (see below), or those who believe that raping 12 year olds brings them closer to God, any less horrible? How will it make the rape rates, which are increasing with every passing year, disappear? How can it affect the countless lives of women whose lives have been destroyed by male violence? How can it disproof the fact that according to the UNIFEM report “throughout the world, one in three women will be raped, beaten, coerced into sex or otherwise abused in her lifetime ? How talking about one’ s own “good” husband whenever such statistics are given, is in any way helpful or relevant to all that? And why do we think it ought to magically diminish the seriousness of such crimes? And also, how come we don’t see that this is not about “hating men”, but about hating violence?! Not to mention, this is not about a war on men. It is about a war on women!

And also, why do we have this need to constantly offer the reassurance to the men in our life, that when we talk about men who use domestic or sexual violence, we are not talking about them at all? Why are we so afraid that just talking about this, would turn us into man-haters in their eyes? And isn’t that a proof that things are not as “great” as we pretend them to be? What if we were talking about men who steal motorbikes? Would the mere reporting of this crime turn us into horrible, obsessive haters of motorbike thieves, but also into haters of motorbike sellers, motorbike mechanics, motorbike users and motorbikes in general? And would the news of such a crime, justify women’ s need to repeatedly assure the world that their own husband has never, EVER stolen any motorbikes? And would that offer proof that no motorbikes are being stolen, or were ever stolen in this world?

Also the fact that we tend to praise men for not having raped, assaulted or killed any women (or the fact that they truly need us to be impressed by this, and believe themselves to be “good” on account of that) is enough to indicate how low are expectations of men are, (and how low their own expectations of themselves are too), by the way.

The need to protect “traditional”, (aka aggressive) masculinity at all costs, to pretend it is not toxic, to pretend male violence doesn’ t even exist, despite statistics and solid proof, needs to be examined. That is why the “not-my-husband” / “#NotAllMen” conversation, is not just irrelevant, it is dangerous, because it takes our attention away from facing the problem, and downplays, trivializes and because of that, indirectly justifies the overwhelming realities of male violence. It also stops men from being accountable for ending gender-based violence. And that’s just tragic, because they are the only ones who can end it!

Femicide

 Femicide, (the murder of women based on their sex) continues to plague the world, and it is actually increasing, despite sporadic attempts to implement femicide laws. Men usually kill women because they feel they rejected, tried to leave, “dishonoured” or disobeyed them, and more often than not, after they rape them (as a form of sexual “gratification” or as a way of permanently silencing them: 81.7% of all homicides in the U.S. alone, are sex-related). It is of course a global phenomenon, yet like all other forms of gender-based crimes, they are not seen as important in the male-dominated political sphere or the media: they are just women. They are just girls. They are insignificant. Disposable. Their lives are unworthy, and so their violent deaths do not matter… According to the UNIFEM report “Not a Minute More: Ending Violence Against Women”: Violence against women has become as much a pandemic as HIV/AIDS or malaria. But still it is downplayed by the public at large and policymakers who fail to create and fund programmes to eradicate it.”

Women are daily being killed in great numbers on account of their sex and what more, they are most commonly killed by spouses, partners, exes, or members of their family, which is to say: men they know and trust: on a global scale, 38 % of all murders of women are committed by their husbands / intimate partners.

In the U.S. alone, every 16 hours, a current or former husband (who may belong in any racial, ethnic or economic background, by the way (male aggression, being one hell of an equatliser…) shoots a woman to death. This particular statistic takes into account only the women who are shot, and does not include those who are stabbed, strangled, beaten to death, or run over by vehicles on purpose! In fact, husbands (who have access to firearms, even when they have a history of violence or mental illness) are incomparably more deadly in America, than jihadist terrorists, though you wouldn’ t know that by watching the news: since the 9/11 attacks, there have been 123 murders of American citizens who were killed by terrorists, and 230,000 other murders, mostly perpetrated by husbands!

According to the “National Network to End Domestic Violence”, 6,500 American soldiers were killed in Afghanistan and Iraq, between October 2001 and June 2012. More than 11,700 women died during the same period, in acts of domestic violence (as in they were literally beaten to death!) The deaths of those soldiers are seen as tragic, as a waste of human life and potential, and they are honoured and remembered, but the violent deaths of all those women in the hands of husbands, are trivialised (even romanticed: “he loved her too much”), and are not seen as equally significant or even newsworthy: in fact they are more often than not, seen as the “natural” result of an argument, break ups, alcohol consumption, “passion”, or simply a “bad moment”, as if such reasons justify them…

One woman is murdered every 16 hours in Honduras, which is considered to be the most dangerous place in the world for women, as it has the highest gender-based violence (femicide, domestic violence and rapes) rate in the world. Women are considered to be so insignificant that 95% of their murders by men were not even investigated.

In Guatemala, a country of only 15 million inhabitants, 5,000 women and girls were violently killed from 2008 to 2015. Fewer than 2% of those murders have resulted in convictions.

In Brazil: a woman is murdered every 2 hours (and every 15 seconds a woman or girl is sexually assaulted)

In Argentina alone, in the first few months of this year, a woman is being killed every 18 hours, compared to one every 30 hours the year before.

El Salvador, the small Central American nation, registered 574 murders of women in 2015, and 446 just from January to November 2016.

Honour killings are also quite common and they can happen for the most insignificant of reasons, a man’ s honour being such a fragile delicate thing after all. More than 900-1,000 women are killed in Pakistan every year, just in the name of family honour.  For Example, in 2013, a mother and her two small daughters, were killed by male members of their family, for having disgraced them, because they were caught on a video that went viral, dancing happily in the rain! In 2012, five women were also killed in Pakistan because they did the apparently utterly shameful thing of signing at a wedding, while in 2013, a girl in Pakistan was killed because she looked at a boy who was passing by her on a motorcycle! On a similar note, a woman in Pakistan, has recently been set on fire by her husband and his parents for failing to conceive after three years of marriage… 

Statistics that refer to femicide, by the way, do not even take into account the 100 million girls from around the world, which according to U.N. statistics are missing. Many of them are left according to the same reports “on the sides of roads, drowned, maimed and thrown in trash bins”.

Foeticide & Infanticide:

Females are also often killed in order to stop them from existing in this world, like in the case of countless baby girls who are seen as unworthy by their very families who become their murderers. Female foetuses are aborted for no other reason than they are not male (these are the justified abortions of course, and they happen daily) India, Azerbaijan, Vietnam, China, Albania are the countries with the most skewed sex-rations due to foeticide and infanticide. Between 2000 to 2014 alone, there were according to U.N. statistics 24,561,345 sex selective abortions (it goes without saying the sex that is always “selected” to be aborted is the female one) which makes it 1,670,079 a year, or 4575.5 a day, or one female every in 18 seconds!  

These numbers do not even come close to recording sex discrimination after birth: millions of little girls die prematurely because of discrimination in nutrition, health-care, and medicine (which is to say that baby girls are on purpose not fed, or cared for when sick, either as a form of infanticide, or by purposedly giving priority to the needs of boys whose lives are considered precious.

In India alone, fifteen million females are believed to be murdered in every generation in foeticide, infanticide, “honour killings” and for reasons of “dowry saving”. The dowry custom, which is perpetuating longstanding inequalities between men and women, is in itself a misogynistic practice that financially rewards a man for taking the “burden” of a daughter out of the hands of her father. It is also the main cause of femicide in the form of foeticide and infanticide: a man will get paid by his future wife’ s father for marrying her, he will also get to inherit his own parents’ property, but also his wife’ s parents’ wealth too! The wealthier his bride’ s family is, the bigger are the chances she will also be educated and so the bigger the dowry and the inheritance of course, and the greater the financial loss for the family. A well-educated daughter, is also more likely to become increasingly more resistent to the old traditions and possibly more “demanding” when it comes to her rights and more likely to have an opinion about her father paying a stranger in order to take her. A dead daughter on the other hand, is a far easier deal… This cold, hardless logic results in a higher rate of femicide in middle and upper class families!

In fact, it is only in the poorer 20 per cent of the population, that there is a normal sex ratio for girls and boys, again, not necessarily because girls who come from the lower strata are actually wanted by their families, but because having a daughter is a financial asset for the poorer families: girls are allowed to live, in order to do the daily chores, taking care of family members, or worse, in order to be “leased” or sold as servants or factory workers (the lucky ones), or quite commonly as underage prostitutes: little girls as young as five, are used as sex slaves by all male members of wealthy families, who may also go on to resell them to other families once they are done with them, or quite commonly, to paedophiles from Gulf countries. This is done with the blessings of the fathers, and the mullahs (religious leaders) who claim that these daughters should be “grateful” with such arrangements, as they get to help their families…

Human Trafficking:

According to the organization “Arc for Hope for Children”, there are 20.9 Million victims of trafficking Worldwide as of 2012, 21 millions by 2014. In fact, there are more slaves today, than at any other time in history, and many of them are sexual slaves. 

4.5 Million of trafficked persons (women, underage girls, and boys) are being sexually exploited by men, and according to Unicef, 2 million of them are children who are subjected to prostitution in the global commercial sex trade. 

An example is the case of Karla Jacinto, a girl from Mexico who at age twelve, was forced into prostitution by Mexico’ s Human Trafficking Rings, and by age 16, was raped 43,200 times, by up to 30 men a day, seven days a week, for the best part of four years! Judges, priests and policemen (the very people who were supposed to protect her) were among the many men who abused her, she told CNN. Now that she managed to escape her hell, just speaking about it, daily puts her life at risk.

What can also be said about the countless women and underage girls who were captured by ISIS for the purpose of becoming sex slaves? These women and children were taken from their families and homes for the sole purpose of being passed from soldier to soldier (which is a common enough practise in all wars one might add, and from the beginning of Time…) Sometimes they are offered as gifts / reward to ISIS fighters, or sold into sexual slavery in special bazaars! In fact the Islamic State went on to create a detailed bureaucracy in order to keep track of its increasing “merchandise”! Many theological discussions were also held to find the religious justification of rape (hint: they did find it!) and endless policy memos and even lengthy how-to-rape manuals were issued, in order to “help” men with the task at hand, giving them the “rules”, like how many times a woman should be raped by one man before being passed to the next and so on…! At least 5,270 women and girls were abducted from the Yazidi communities alone, and at least 3,144 are still being held. Thousands others, from other regions were also abducted from their homes, and subjected to all kinds of abuses, held chained in cages like animals and forced to be exposed in markets like cattle holding price tags, or displayed as merchandise on Facebook posts. The soldiers are even told that raping children and women who are unbelievers, are acts of religious devotion! The few captives who miraculously escaped this nightmare, told their rescuers that rapists would kneel and pray before and after raping 12 year old kids, telling them that by raping them, they were doing their religious duty and were “drawing closer to God”!

Child Brides:

Each year, 15 million girls (28 girls every minute, 1 every 2 seconds!) are married before the age of 18, and are being denied a childhood, an education and a normal developement. Early pregnancy is also consistently among the leading causes of death for girls ages 15 to 19 worldwide.

According to the research institute ‘ICRW’: “One third of girls in the developing world, are married before the age of 18, and 1 in 9 are married before the age of 15. Child marriage often compromises a girl’ s development by resulting in social isolation, interrupting her schooling, limiting her opportunities for career and vocational advancement, and placing her at increased risk of domestic violence. Child brides often show signs symptomatic of sexual abuse, marital rape and post-traumatic stress such as feelings of hopelessness, helplessness and severe depression”.

According to the ‘United Nations Children’ s Fund’, over 700 million women alive today, were married before 18, including some 250 million who wed before 15 (some as young as seven!) and usually to a much older man.

According to the organization ‘Girls Not Brides’, in India alone, there are 26,610,000 girls who have been married as children: it is estimated that 47% of girls in India, are married before their 18th birthday, 18% married by 15. Many at even younger ages.

The African country of Niger has the highest rate of child marriage in the world. 3 in 4 girls marry before their 18th birthday. In some areas, the rates are even higher, in some regions, as many as 89%.

More than 320,000 young girls in Mexico aged between 12 and 17, are either married or co-habiting with men who are at the very least 11 years their senior. They have been called the “lost generation”…

After the Saudi-Arabian intervention in Yemen, which resulted in a horrible famine, many Yemeni families started selling off their daughters to avoid starvation. 6-year-old girls are being sold to  pedophiles, so that fathers will have one less mouth to feed and on top of that, an income! It is seen as perfectly acceptable by religious leaders by the way, since it corresponds to the sharia law.

This also brings to mind the Pakistani custom of “vani(also known as swara or sangchatti) where girls are seen as cattle, as property to be sold or given away to grown men to settle disputes: daughters are used as currency to pay up a father’s debts (or even any other male family member’s debts) Girls as young as one year old (!) are offered to grown men in arranged marriages to settle debts or vendettas. Even though such arrangements (which are approved by the powerful local council of elders known as a jirga) are supposedly illegal in Pakistan, they are very common and are rarely prosecuted.

Another custom that is quite common in conservative parts of Pakistan is that of “Watta Satta” (“give and take”) which is basically the exchanging of women, who are nothing but commodities, things that are meant to be used among men. A case that reached the news a couple of months ago, refers to 13-year old girl who was “offered” to a 36-year-old disabled man, so that he (the father – if we can call him that) would get to have that man’ s sister in return, in hope that she would give him a son, “because his first wife, the mother of his daughter solely bore him girls when all he wanted was a son”. The disable man’ s sister, was thankful that she would no longer be responsible of taking care of her brother and this duty would now be to the hands of the 13 year old-girl. The girl who was raised with the belief that she has no rights and no choices in this life, and who is clearly afraid of her father was quoted to say: “he has the right to choose when and whom I’m going to marry”, (though her sorrowful face in the photos, reveals her true feelings and can break one’s heart) In fact, it is considered a father’ s duty to exchange his daughters for other women he will get to have as his own, and whenever such exchanges are not completed, it is believed that he “failed” his religious duty! (those male lawmakers, and male religious leaders think of everything, don’t they?!)

(How many things in this piece of news are causing you to have palpitations I wonder? The fact that a girl of 13, is forced to marry a grown man of 36? That she was exchanged like a commodity? That her own father basically sold her in order to get a new wife? That he takes wives left and right as if they are things? That he considers only sons to be “proper” offspring? That women are so far gone inside the bottomless pit that is the traditional marriage that they don’ t mind if a 13-year old girl is victimised, if they are to be relieved of their own unbearable burden of taking care of ailing family members? That this girl will be forced to life-long servitude, taking care of a disable man? That she will be raped by an adult and forced to get pregnant while she is still a child? That she too will be seen as unworthy (like her own mother was) and will be discarded and exchanged if she does not do her “duty” and bear a son? That she is not even allowed to have any dreams, let alone choices? That she thinks her father is doing his “duty” by selling her? That he thinks that too? That such things are still allowed?!! That religions are so fucking misogynistic that they have tricked people into thinking this is normal? What?)

Child marriages are not unheard of, or forbidden by law in the U.S. by the way, even though interestingly, this is against U.S. foreign policy: the U.S. is officially against child and forced marriages when these happen in other parts of the world, and considers them to be a “human rights abuse”, yet most U.S. states allow children age 16 or 17 to marry, provided they have their parents’ s consent. State laws are not concerned and do not investigate whether a child is marrying willingly or whether this is a forced marriage.

About 57,800 minors in the U.S., aged 15 to 17 were married as of 2014. 91% of these are girls, who were married to adult men! According to ‘Unchained At Last’, an American organization that helps girls resist or escape forced marriage, between 2000 and 2010, in 38 states, there were 167,000 children, almost all of them girls, many as young as 10(!) who were married – mostly to men considerably older than them. When the States that don’t provide information are put in the mix, the number may be as high as 248,000!

In many cases, these child brides are young enough, and the grown men who marry them are old enough, to justify statutory-rape charges, if only there was no marriage license application involved with their parents’ signature… In Idaho, the state with the highest rate of child marriages, having sex with a child under 16, is considered a felony and can lead to 25 years in prison, but not when the adult marries the underage girl obviously! Then all is legal and good… (Marriage makes everything magically wholesome, doesn’t it?)

Child marriages and forced marriages in America, are not specific to one religious background by the way. Studies show that they can happen in Christian (particularly Catholic), Hindu, Muslim, Sikh, Buddhist, Mormon, Unification Church or Orthodox Jewish communities equally often. The girls are often coerced to go into these marriages with adults, by the use of emotional manipulation (a girl reported that she was promised “nice clothes”) blackmail and threats of ostracism, beatings or death. The reasons that parents give for forcing their children to marry, are for controlling their sexuality or independence, protecting the “family honour” (because an underage girl became pregnant for example, or even just spoke to a boy), or for reasons relating to money and social status.

Incidentally, last week, the governor of New Jersey Chris Christie, declined to sign a measure into law to ban child marriage without exception, on the grounds that it “would conflict with religious customs”

It is interesting to note that globally, girls with higher levels of schooling are less likely to marry as children as they themselves become more resistant to coercion and manipulation, and also get to realise that there are other options out there for them. A fact that indicates towards the solution of this problem: Educate girls!

Legal rape:

Rape of a woman (or girl) by her husband, is expressly legal in at least 10 countries: Ghana, India, Indonesia, Jordan, Lesotho, Nigeria, Oman, Singapore, Sri Lanka, and Tanzania, though one might add that it is considered “morally” legal in most countries around the world: a husband having sex with his wife even when she is not willing, is still widely considered being a husband’ s “right” and wife’ s “duty”. That’ s what they both signed for, when they entered into the marriage… That is why the “traditional marriage” (which let us face it already, is a product of Patriarchy) in which the husband is the “provider” and the woman the “homemaker” (which is what is implied whenever the phrase “traditional family values” is used) has endured for countless generations: the woman gets to be “protected” and “cared for”, and meet her “biological destiny” (to quote The Handmaid’ s Tale) and the husband gets to have the right to get that good, old, marital, no-questions-asked-she-owes-it -to-him sex.)

Such a mentality is sadly not exactly alien to Western countries. Even though marital rape is technically illegal in the U.S., for example, in many states it is not being treated as ‘real” rape. Ohio State Rep. Greta Johnson has for example tried repeatedly to pass a bill to outlaw marital rape and stop husbands from having the “right” to drug and rape their wives (who knew it needed to be specified that this should be illegal?) yet the bill got no support from any Republicans, and it did not pass!

It is also legally possible for perpetrators of rape, to escape punishment if they marry their victim in Bahrain, Iraq, Jordan, Kuwait, Lebanon, Palestine, the Philippines, Tajikistan, and Tunisia (so the woman / and quite often the underage girl gets to live her entire life with her rapist, who in turn, gets to continue to rape her for years, and at his own convenience, AND with the blessings of priests and lawmakers!)

In Morocco and Saudi Arabia, rape victims are even charged with a crime (the crime of putting themselves in the position of being raped!) and can be publically disgraced, lashed and even executed for it (on top of being raped!) while of course, their rapist goes unpunished! In places where the sharia law was enforced, such as Indonesia for example, women are publically disgraced and canned (or worse) for simply standing too close to a man, let alone being raped!

Domestic Violence:

If there is one single thing all terrorists and all mass shooters have in common, is not – despite popular belief – their religion, their colour or ethnic background, but a record of domestic violence and sexual assaults, as well as a deeply ingrained misogyny!

Indicatively, there were around 45,000 cases of domestic violence reported in Colombia, in 2015 alone, while the majority of Pakistani women (90%) face domestic violence. In fact the Council of Islamic Ideology, a constitutional body that advises the Pakistani legislature on whether laws adhere to Islam’ s teachings, recently said husbands should be allowed to “lightly” beat their wives. While in the Islamic world a husband is generally allowed (even encouraged) to beat his wife and daughters, as long as it is not in the face… Moslem women, are routinely being brutally hit by fathers, brothers, police officers to whom they turn in hope of being protected, and above all, husbands for the entirety of their lives, sometimes as a punishment, and sometimes as a way of keeping them docile, frightened and therefore more subservient and easier to control.

Violence against women is so pervasive and entrenched in all societies, that it is being seen as the norm. In modern-day Russia for instance, there is a saying that claims: “If he beats you, it means he loves you.” Well, apparently Russian men really adore their wives and kids: 40 % of all violence crimes in Russia, are not committed by the Russian mafia, or other organised crime groups, but by husbands, and “in family surroundings”: 36,000 Russian women are being beaten by their partners every day, and 26,000 children are being assaulted by their parents every year (God only knows how many the undocumented incidents are of course….) while an estimated 14,000 Russian women are being killed from domestic violence every year (which is another way of saying “are beaten to death!”)

Indicatively, Komsomolskaya Pravda, one of Russia’ s most popular tabloid newspapers, published an article that urged women to be “proud of their bruises” because women who are abused by their husbands have a “valuable advantage as they are more likely to give birth to boys!” Boys being the “good” kids, the “default” kids, and having them being such a blessing that it can justify daily beatings….

Despite these numbers, earlier this year, Russian lawmakers decriminalized some forms of domestic assault. The amendment to the criminal code was passed into law under which, if the victim—adult or child—is not “seriously” physically injured, and there has been no other incident of violence within the past year, the abuser will be subject to a maximum prison sentence of just 15 days, community service, or only a fine. Prior to the amendment, the assailant would have been subject to a maximum sentence of two years. Domestic violence was in fact a crime in Russia for a total of six months… In June 2016, the Russian government decriminalized battery, but exempted domestic abuse from the decriminalization, and by that, indirectly acknowledged domestic violence as a specific crime, a fact that infuriated conservative groups and the Russian Orthodox Church because apparently “the reasonable and loving use of physical punishment is an essential part of the rights given to parents by God himself.” Conservative lawmakers agreed, and quickly moved against the Supreme Court on the basis of “Traditional Family values”!

Rape epidemic:

A few days ago, the President of Philippines Rodrico Détente, has told his soldiers that they will have his full support if they rape at least three women, while enforcing martial law“I will be imprisoned for you. If you rape three (women), I will say that I did it!”, he “joked” to his troops. Not only is rape not seen as a violent, disgusting crime, it is considered an “honourable”, manly act that deserves praise, and needs to be rewarded, because it validates a man’ s masculinity! (Rape culture in a nutshell)

A U.N. study, revealed that 70% of men who have perpetrated rape, did it because they thought it was their “right” as men. 40% because they were angry or wanted to “punish” the woman, while 50% of them admitted they never felt guilty.

Europe, Southern and Northern America have the highest numbers of rapes (and we probably have men’ s addiction to porn to thank for that), though Australia, Botswana and Lesotho have the highest per capita cases. The reasons why men rape vary, but are always related to sexual entitlement: men’ s belief that sex is their male, God-given “right” and their own need for it, must be satisfied at all costs, and women (whom they believe to be nothing more than bodies) basically exist in order to be used for that. In short, being men means they are “allowed” to have sex with women whenever they want, and regardless if these women are willing or not. That is why rape is seen as a male right, rather than a horrible crime and why rapists are more often than not, not accused or prosecuted by the male lawmakers, the male police officers and the male judges…

A UN study that was contacted in 2013, in Asia and the Pacific (that included data from Bangladesh, China, Cambodia, Indonesia, Papua New Guinea, and Sri Lanka) revealed that overall nearly half of the 10,000 men who were interviewed have used (often repeatedly) physical and/or sexual violence against a woman and 1% – 14% of the men, admitted that they perpetrated gang rape against a woman or girl. These men started raping at around 14 years or younger. The vast majority (72% – 97%) did NOT experience any legal or other consequences for their crimes.

Another study, which was contacted by the University of North Dakota, U.S., revealed that 1 in 3 American men would rape if they could get away with it! In fact men from around the world  do, more often than not, get away with it… Like in the case of Diego Cruz, a wealthy young man from Mexico who ganged raped a 17-year-old girl with two of his friends, and was acquitted because he said “he didn’t enjoyed it”! (It’s a good thing he did not ask to be compensated for his trouble…)

The above study also revealed that men do not associate “forcible sex” (which they consider to be “acceptable!”) with rape! (Again another by-product of porn watching!) The men who participate in the survey, admitted that they forced or would force a woman to have sex, but denied that they would “rape a woman” and they seemed to think that these two things are not the one and the same!

The same study revealed that marital rape was more prevalent than other forms of rape. According to the World Health Organization: women who are “exposed to intimate partner violence” are overall even more traumatized than those who are raped by random strangers: women who are raped by husbands and partners, are twice more likely to suffer from depression, almost twice as likely to turn to alcohol, are 16% more likely to have a low birth-weight baby, 1.5% more likely to get sexually transmitted infections, while 42 % of them suffer serious injuries as a result.

A different study contacted by the University of Harvard revealed that 50% of rapists are repeat offenders: “Nearly 23% said they had raped two to three people, 12 % say they had raped four to ten people, and about 4 % said they had raped more than ten people.” Young men who commit a rape in college are also very likely to become serial offenders . It is also interesting to note that (like in the case of the “Asia and the Pacific” UN study), most of the American rapists were teenagers when they first raped someone. 

Rape is still the ONLY crime for which the victim is more likely to be blamed than the perpetrator: if a woman is raped, she is often blamed for putting herself at risk of being raped (like just existing in the proximity of men for example…) and what she wears at the time of the attack is often seen as more “guilty” than the rapist himself… Victim-blaming when it comes to rape is actually hardwired into our culture: a recent study contacted by the “Fawcett Society” in the U.K., revealed that “nearly half of men and 34% of women, believe women are at least partially to blame if they are drunk or wearing a short skirt or are on a night out when they are assaulted. This in UK! You can imagine what people in the Muslim world think! The recent case of a 19-year-old Saudi Arabia woman comes to mind, who dared to go out of her home unescorted, and was gang-raped by seven men. When she dared to speak to the press, she was publically disgraced, received 200 lashes, and was sentenced to six months in jail for “committing a crime of indecency”, (SHE committed the crime, not the seven men who assaulted her!) because it was, as the chant in The Handmaid’ s Tale goes: “Her Fault! Her Fault! Her Fault!” It is also not uncommon for women and girls who have been raped, to be imprisoned, or even executed for having “allowed” it, or to even be killed by their own families for bringing “disgrace” to them!

In the U.S. alone, there are 300,000 rapes every year according to the U.S. Justice Department, though the Centers of Decease Control put the number much higher, at 1.3 million. These numbers do not take into account the countless women who do not dare to come forward and report that they were assaulted. In 2011, 44.394 women were raped in the U.K. alone, 17.077 in Sweden, 47.078 in Germany, 15.681 in Chile, 45.288 in Brazil, 34.027 in Mexico, 26.601 in Canada, 23.871 in France, 9.860 in Spain, 2.182 in Portugal, 4.617 in Italy, 7.359 in Scotland, 16.647 in Russia, 19.491 in the Republic of Korea, 8.055 in Japan, while every 17 seconds, a woman is raped in South Africa. In the Democratic Republic of Congo which has the worst rape records, 1.150 women and girls are raped every day, which makes it 420,000 a year! It is again, safe to say however, that the numbers of raped women are considerably higher, since the above numbers only represent documented cases and do not include the many rapes that go unreported, due to the shaming / victim-blaming phenomenon.

Studies have also concluded that men who pay for sex are two times more likely to rape; men who feel socially marginalized are more likely to attempt to assert their masculinity by displaying their “power” over a woman who is physically weaker and whom they usually consider to be their inferior, and therefore also an easy target, her humiliation being an easy “ego boost”; men who get involved in other violent activities that are meant and display their “toughness” to other men, such as fights or violent sports, or gang activities, are also prone to being rapists; men who have witnessed the abuse of their mother when they were young, are also more likely to rape and assault women and girls; men who have experienced physical, sexual or emotional abuse as children are also more likely to repeat these crimes themselves. (Women who have experienced abuse as children turn their hate onto themselves, and this results in a lack of self esteem, chronic depression, anorexia, self mutilation, phobias, psychosomatic symptoms, drug / alcohol abuse, suicide. Men are just more likely to replicate what they’ ve seen / been through and just rape women and kids…) Gang rapes on the other hand, are associated with other forms of violence and antisocial activities, and are also related to poverty and the male need to humiliate a helpless Other, and by doing that, prove that they still have power over someone. And last but not least, men who are addicted to porn, are also considerably more likely to rape. A strong link has also been found between men who enjoy watching violent porn and other sadistic behavior / violent murders.

Other forms of violence:

Even though the “triple talaq” (or instant divorce ) has been banned in more than 20 Muslim countries, it still prevails. By this practise, a husband can divorce his wife with no warning, no reason, no legal documents, no consequences on him, and no obligations to her and their children (though it is quite common that he will choose to take their sons with him – without her permission – leaving her with the daughters) Given that a woman is not allowed to work, or in many countries own property, you can imagine what this abandonment means for her and her children. All he has to do, is repeat three times the word divorce (“divorce, divorce, divorce”) and then be free to move on to greener pastures… The same right is of course denied to women who have to stay with their husbands even if they are being daily abused by them.

It is also quite common for men in the Middle East, Southeast Asia and Latin America to throw acid at a woman if she rejects their advances, causing horrible deformities and scarring them for life or even blinding them, just because they rejected them. Their crime of course goes unpunished. (Colombia has the highest rate of acid attacks on women)

Men in the Western world, have their own ways of “punishing” women of course. A recent example is the act of stealthing” — that is, the act of secretly, and without the woman’ s consent, removing condoms during sex — as a form of sexual assault, which is becoming widespread. White supremacists even go a step further, asking (through their Internet portal “Daily Stormer”) white men to rape white women in order to get them pregnant and thus fortifying the numbers of white people in the world! The abused women are to be used as breeding cattle, as nothing but the means to their disgusting neo-Nazi goals. This also brings to mind the “Spring of Life” program that was put in action by the “original” Nazis, which requested German soldiers to rape white Aryan-looking women (mostly from Scandinavia), hoping to impregnate them, and then take their children to raise them in government Homes, making them the future “perfect” samples of humanity…

Women are also daily victimised by the very fact they are denied the right to work or own property. According to a World Bank study (“Women, Business and the Law, 2016”), women’s economic prospects are specifically limited BY LAW in 155 countries out of the 173 studied.

Women own less than 20% of the world’s land.

In Cameroon, Chad, Chile, Indonesia, The Philippines, Sri Lanka, Togo and Zambia it is still illigal for women to own property, while others allow it only in paper. In Zimbabwe for example, their dead husband’s family forces widows out of their homes.

In 18 countries, husbands are legally allowed to decide if their wife can work or not.

In 100 countries, there are laws that specify which types of jobs women are allowed to have, and which not.

In 30 counties, men are by law seen as the “head of the household”.

In Saudi Arabia, women need to have a “male guardian” who gets to make all major (or minor) decisions about their life.

In 19 countries, women are obliged by law to obey their husbands in all matters.

In 32 countries, women are legally obliged to get permission from their husbands to apply for a passport, (let alone use it!)

Not to mention that most women in the Muslim world, need to have a father or husband’ s permission just to go out of their home, and they have to be accompanied by a male member of their family at all times (even a small boy is seen as a suitable guardian of their virtue, and more important than them).

In many Muslim countries, women are also not allowed to travel, study, marry, work, drive or even seek medical care when they are sick unless their father or husband gives them the permission.

In Saudi Arabia, it is still forbidden to women to vote – not to mention drive a car or ride a bike. Incidentally, Loujain al-Hathloul, the women’s rights campaigner who was the first woman to defy Saudi Arabia’s driving ban, when she attempted to drive from the United Arab Emirates to Saudi Arabia and who was arrested and held to prison for 73 days, was arrested again earlier this month, for crimes related to driving while being a female… According to Amnesty International, she has been denied access to a lawyer and contact with her family…

Riding a bike, is also forbidden in North Korea.

Speaking of North Korea: wearing pants was banned for women up until 2012.

In Iran, there are laws that prevent women from watching football matches.

In Nepal (and other States), where women are seen as the most insignificant members of their households, they are only allowed eat whatever is left, after their husband and children have finished eating. This is not only a disgraceful, sexist practise, it is also the cause of anemia, malnutrition, and other serious health issues in women.

Women and girls are also discriminated against in matter pertaining to their education: An estimated 58 million of primary school aged children, are still out of school, 31 million of them are girls. Gender inequalities in education are greatly increased in older ages. In fact, two-thirds of the world’s illiterate adults are women. According to “The World’s Women” 2015 study, 496 million women are illiterate.

Lastly: this is not – thankfully – widespread, in fact it happens only in one hospital in Zimbabwe, but it seems kind of symbolic to me, and I could bet good money that it was thought of by a male doctor: whenever a woman who is giving birth screams in pain, she is charged $5 per scream for “raising a false alarm”!

Conclusively, violence against women, is the physical result of women’ s subordination and social exclusion, and it victimizes millions of women and girls from around the globe. Even though the media largely ignores it, as it has always been largely allowed by governments and supported (even encouraged) by organised, Patriarchal religions.

Yet the numbers don’ t lie. Yet the truth remains: men threat, hit, abduct, torture, rape, sell, buy, kill women and girls, or at the very least discriminate against them, often and in large numbers, because they can. Because they think it is their right. Because they were taught it makes them men. And also, because they are still legally allowed to.

And it needs to be changed.

P.S.: In the meantime, men are really outraged, because a single movie theatre in Austin, Texas, violated their rights” when it decided to do a women-only screening of ‘Wonder Woman’,  on account that it is the true rarity of a female super-hero movie. Men found their exclusion to be really “offensive”. They went on to express a deep concern about “real equality”. (Not to mention a remarkably gigantic lack of sense of irony)

***

June 9, 2017


For links (sources, statistics & suggested reading: scroll down, at the bottom of this page (where this article is repeated): http://wp.me/P7jQTY-xb


“The cold reality of numbers / The Dystopia is already here – Part II”- June 9th, 2017
Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorised use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications. 

Check out Fanitsa Petrou’s ART here :  http://www.fanitsa-petrou.com


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Posted in Feminist Posts, In English | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Comments Off on The Cold Reality of Numbers

The Dystopia is Near – Part I

The Dystopia is near – Part I

~ Marching Towards Gilead ~

Art & Words by Fanitsa Petrou

30th of May 2017
 *

… They are also downright biblical in their obsession to practically criminalise sex outside of marriage, and in their obvious Handmaid’s Tale-like intent to “guide” women back “on truck”, turning them into obedient little breeder / wives.

There is an unmistakable shift in the way women are being treated by governments, the media, pop culture and lately the law. Like in the case of the women in Margaret Atwood’s dystopia The Handmaid’s Tale”, which was written in 1985 and which is becoming increasingly relevant to our present, women’ s choice to reproduce is treated as public property, as if their bodies are no longer their own. All matters pertaining to their own health, and decisions that are supposedly private, difficult, life altering and wholly theirs to make, are given to the hands of men: politicians, lawmakers, government officials, doctors, husbands, partners, fathers, even rapists! Not to mention the male religious leaders who influence all the above. This is of course a trusted way of undermining women: by controlling women’ s reproductive rights, men are controlling their lives, their choices, and at the same time, intensifying and perpetuating longstanding economic inequalities between the sexes.

It is for this reason that the news of the various ways with which women’ s reproductive rights are currently being threatened in the United States, are significant for the rest of us, because they are very likely to have repercussions in other parts of the world where conservative Right-winged parties are becoming increasingly more popular. America leads the way in more ways than one, and the shadow these changes cast, falls not only on American women, but on women from around the globe, turning the clock backwards, setting a precedent, intensifying old sexist stereotypes and causing a serious hindrance in the evolution of gender attitudes. By them, Patriarchy perpetuates its rule over women, eroding basic liberties and making it harder to effect change on the traditional mode. They are also downright biblical in their obsession to practically criminalise sex outside of marriage, and in their obvious Handmaid’s Tale-like intent to “guide” women back “on truck”, turning them into obedient little breeder / wives.

A great way to achieve this goal is by introducing laws that are forcing women to be perpetually dependant upon their husbands, leading them back to their traditional domestic destinies. Despite The Equal Pay Act of 1963, for example, American women earn 80 cents for every dollar a man makes, but that is not a big enough gap apparently: a federal U.S. Court ruled recently that women can be paid based on what their previous salaries were, making sure they can never do better in life: each new employer will be paying them as much as the last one, regardless of the work they now produce – or how much the same employers would be paying a man for doing it – keeping them nicely and permanently in their place

Additionally, should the American Health Care Act (AHCA) which was passed in the U.S. House of Representatives become law, it will defund Planned Parenthood for one year, unless it stops offering abortions, as well as make sexual assault, domestic violence, and pregnancy pre-existing conditions for States that set up high-risk insurance pools, marginalizing women in a very specific way: In 2017 America, the majority of the House of Representatives agreed that “pre-existing conditions” should not be required to be covered by insurance, and they specifically put in that category everything relating to a woman’ s health and life: C-sections, mammograms, gynaecological tests, post-partum depression, vaccinations and treatment relating to domestic abuse and rape, making women more at risk for being denied coverage or charged higher premiums. (Incidentally, there were exactly zero women working on the Senate version of the Republican health care bill) AHCA is also punishing rape victims, forcing them to become pregnant, taking away their access to abortion services, and on top of that, burdening them with high premiums for the rest of their lives. All these measures are aimed at making sure that women will never escape their second class citizens place.

Of course there’s another much less sinister reason why these changes are suggested: anything pertaining to a woman’s health and life, is ignored for the simple fact that it does not affect men directly, who are the “default” human beings in the eyes of the law… In the words of Rep. John Shimkus, “why should men care about prenatal care?” It’s a common way of thinking among men: back in 2009 when the Obamacare was being discussed, Republicans were also particularly outraged at having to pay anything that related to a woman’s health and maternity (which is kind of ironic, given that they are so keen on women being no more than mothers!) like the senator Jon Kyl, who was baffled at having maternity care being included in the Act, because HE personally didn’t need it, which prompted Sen. Debbie Stabenow to remind him the obvious:“I think your mom probably did!”

As if the AHCA was not enough, the new Republican government is hammering away at women’ s rights by daily attempting to pass bills that are specifically aimed at keeping women nicely in their place as birthing machines. Even when some of these bills do not pass, they still reveal a trend that is rapidly influencing our perception of who we are as women in our societies.

A law that allows doctors to lie to pregnant women: 

Earlier this year, the Texas Senate Committee on State Affairs, unanimously passed a bill (Senate Bill 25) that allows doctors to lie to pregnant women keeping them from knowing if the foetus they are carrying has any severe abnormalities, especially if the doctor “suspects” they ‘ll have an abortion if they find out.

Take a minute to imagine that if you will: you are pregnant and you are feeling like there is something wrong (maybe you have all kinds of unpleasant symptoms and are in pain, or you just sense that things are not right), so you go to your doctor hoping to get some answers (and pay him dearly in order to get them). Your doctor examines you, sees that there is indeed something seriously wrong with the foetus (maybe it will have three heads, maybe it will never be able to breath on its own, maybe it will just be  a mass of flesh), and instead of letting you know, and leaving any decisions to you, the mother, the one who will pay the life-long emotional, spiritual, physical and financial costs of such a decision, he turns and tells you with a big, government-approved smile on his face “Everything is fine! There is absolutely nothing to worry about! This will be such a healthy baby! ! Congrats!!! It’s all in your head! It must be your hormones. You’ve just imagined it…” (You are a woman after all…)

If passed, this law will “protect doctor’ s rights” (while undermining the mothers’ fundamental own rights of course) making it impossible for Texans to sue a doctor for intentionally withholding any information about a fetus’ health! By lying and keeping the mothers from making informed decisions about the fetus they are carrying, they are of course also keeping them from making informed decisions about their own body, their own health, and their own life. All so that lawmakers and medical personal get to impose their own religious beliefs on them!

Note: abortions were also banned in Indiana, in cases where a fetal birth defect was discovered.

A law that allows rapists to sue victims:

Even though American women are supposedly protected under the Roe v. Wade Supreme Court decision, that affirmed the legality of a woman’s right to have an abortion, as it fells “within the right to privacy” (which is another way of saying “it’s her own damn business!”), a new Arkansas Anti-Abortion law (Act 45) allows rapists to sue victims, stopping them from having an abortion if they got pregnant as the result of the rape, including incest! Rapists and other sick bastards who sexually assault their daughters, can also sue doctors for even being approached by their victims seeking consultation, while doctors who perform abortions, can face fines and up to six years in jail.

It additionally grants parents and legal guardians the right to sue, in order to prevent minors from having abortions, which means that even underage girls who are victims of pedophilia and incest, will be forced to have the kids of their abusers!

The same law will also allow husbands to legally forbid their wives from ending a pregnancy and to sue doctors who perform abortions – showcasing nicely what it REALLY means to be married: your body is no longer your own, and any decisions that need to be made about it, will be made by its legal “owner”: your husband!

In seven American States, women are already living in “A Handmaid’ s Tale world”, as are currently forced to share parental custody with their rapists, (even when they are convicted for raping them!) and are even forced to negotiate with them for custody rights. Efforts to repeal those laws have continued to fail.

Back in 2015, the Republican candidate Sen. Marco Rubio went a step further, when he proposed that rape victims should be incarcerated so that it is made sure they are forced to give birth to their rapists’ children! If he was elected president, in his words, he would: “put rape victims into custody and under strict supervision if it is determined that they are planning to have an abortion”. (In short, “Welcome to Gilead!”)

Incidentally, David Eastman, a Republican who is a member of the Alaska House of Representatives, claimed that women are actually happy to be pregnant so that they can get to travel to have an abortion. In his words: “You have individuals who are in villages and are glad to be pregnant, so that they can have an abortion because there’s a free trip to Anchorage involved” (Clearly a man who knows a lot about women…)

Women as cattle / animals:

It is also interesting to note that the Wyoming Senate, is considering bills on women’ s reproductive rights that are being handled by the Senate Agricultural Committee (!) instead of committees debating Health issues (as in HUMAN Health issues….) But why should women be seen as anything more than cattle, right? (Maybe the cattle prods with which the women are tasered in The Handmaid’ s Tale fictional universe, are not far behind…)

This also brings to mind the fact that Sex Trafficking Victims all over the US, are forcibly being marked with tattoos of a crown, which is often accompanied by the name of their pimp / slave owner, or even with microchip implants. Just like cattle, they are being branded by their owners…

On a similar note, Missouri Lawmakers joked that women who want abortions should “get them at the Zoo”!

A law that takes away options available to doctors: 

Additionally, the Texas Senate approved recently a new anti-abortion bill that would prohibit certain procedures in order to prevent donation of fatal tissue and by doing that, it however also limited the options offered to doctors and prevented them from using their best medical judgment when it comes to problematic pregnancies, putting women’ s health and lives at risk!

A law that if passed, would require women to carry their dead fetus to term:

In March, Shannon Lundgren, an Iowa State Representative went on to suggest that women who miscarry after 20 weeks of pregnancy, should carry their dead fetus to term! (Again, take a minute to imagine how the woman who has to go though this particular brand of hell would feel! Not to mention how it would affect her health) No other legislators appeared to take issue with, or attempted to correct Lindgren’s comments during the debate.

A rape-loophole law:

A loophole in North Carolina’s state law on sex and consent, set by a 1979 State Supreme Court case, says that it’s not considered rape if a woman agreed to sex initially, even if she later revoked her consent for any reason like in the case of violence, (or because she just doesn’t fucking like it!) Men’ s pursuit of sex must be legally protected at all costs after all. Which is another way of saying: interfering with a woman’s body is OK. Interfering with a man’s orgasm, is NOT!

More recently, in 2016, the Oklahoma Court of Criminal Appeals, ruled that someone cannot be found guilty of forceable sodomy if “a victim is so intoxicated as to be completely unconscious at the time of the sexual act or oral copulation” The court’ s ruling (which refers to the case of 16-year-old girl who was raped while unconscious and woke up in hospital while being examined for sexual assault) is perpetuating victim-blaming and establishing a dangerous legal precedent that creates a loophole for rape! (as in: “first drug her, then rape her”. Bill Cosby must be ecstatic….)

It is interesting how when the rapist is drunk, this works in his defence, as he is not considered responsible for his actions, and his alcohol consumption is actually seen as a poof of his innocence! While a woman who is unconscious (even if she was drugged by her rapist!) is seen as being responsible for having been raped while she was unconscious!!!

Forced sterilization:

The ways men attempt to control women’ s bodies have no end, like in the case of the Arizona Republican Russell Pearce, a former State Senator, (the nice fellow who was also involved in Arizona’s “papers please” immigration law) who went a bit further, and actually suggested sterilizing poor women as a prerequisite for getting welfare support: “If you want food stamps, you’ re going to have to be sterilized… we don’ t need those kind of genes”!!!! he said, and thankfully he was forced to resign…

Whenever the issue of welfare is raised, Republicans often turn also to the bible, like the Texas representative Jodey Arrington for example, who when asked to give a reason why access to food stamps should be cut, he replied in a Handmaid’s Tale-kind of manner, by turning to the Bible: “The one who is unwilling to work shall not eat.” (Thessalonians 3-10) He was the third Republican to quote the same passage…

The forced sterilisation that was suggested by Russell Pearce, also brings to mind the cases of mass forced sterilization in Peru (not to mention WWII Germany): between 1996 and 2000, 272,000 indigenous women and 22,004 men were sterilized in Peru against their will, as part of the “National Reproductive Health and Family Planning Program”, that aimed to “eradicate poverty through lower birth rates”. They were basically being punished for being poor (AND of indigenous descend obviously) Many women died due to complications and others still suffer serious health complications to this day. No charges were ever pursued.

On the other hand, when a woman WANTS to be sterilised, she is refused: in the U.S., even though doctors cannot refuse patients who for whatever reason want to have their tubes tied based on federally protected grounds, there are more and more cases of women who are denied permanent birth control by their doctors if they have not yet had three children. (Three, is apparently the “appropriate” number of children a woman MUST have before she is allowed to say she wants no more.) This line of logic is in fact quite common and there are different versions of it: single women are seen as worthless unless they get married. Married women are seen as tragic and their lives pointless unless they have kids. And even then: one child is OK, two is better, three is obviously the best; while women who want to adopt, are often discouraged and told they “should first try to have their own kids” and if they fail, then and only then they should turn to adoption etc etc.

Rape & incest as “acts of God”:

Oklahoma has also given the world the Republican George Fought, who in defending his bill that would prohibit women from seeking abortion services when their foetuses have genetic abnormalities, not only when they are the result of rape but also of incest (which is of course very likely to cause a genetically abnormal feotuses), he claimed that “if a woman gets impregnated by force, it ’s because the Lord was just using her!” When asked by the Democrat Cory Williams, whether he considered rape and incest and the pregnancies that may result from them to be the “will of God”, being the pious Republican Christian that he is, Fought replied: “The Lord uses all circumstances” (including rape and incest…) When he was asked to explain his reasoning he replied: “Well, you know, if you read the Bible, there’ s actually a couple of circumstances where that happened”. Well, as long as it was considered OK during The Iron Age…

But if he is going to take that road, I do hope he is not also caught working on a Sunday, because then he must be punished by death (Exodus 31:14), and I hope his teenage kids are not misbehaving as they must be stoned by the townsfolk (Deuteronomy 21:20-21) and I hope he follows God’s orders on the all-important matter of his sideburns (Leviticus 19:27), and hopefully his wife will pass the dust-swept-off-the-Tabernacle-floor-mixed-with-water test, and she won’ t get sick when she is forced to drink it, because then it might mean that she was unfaithful (Numbers 5:11-31) and he will have to put her to death (Deuteronomy 22:22 ) preferably by stoning (John 8:4-5). I also do hope that he is a handsome fellow with no “blemishes, a flat nose, or bad eyes” and he is certainly not “blind”, “lame” or a “dwarf” and he does not have “scurvy”, because his God really hates these sort of things (Leviticus 21:17-24) and would not want to have him anywhere near His church. No sir! And I hope he won’ t go having sex with his sister-in-law, because that’ s a big No-No! and he might end up dead (Genesis 38:1-10) And I do hope he is not partial to selling his own daughter into sexual slavery, because that’ s what his God wants (Exodus 21:7-9). Not to mention I hope he is careful not to wear clothing woven of two kinds of material (Leviticus 19:19) because God is VERY particular about that one, or indeed curse “outside the camp” because then all who hear him, must “stone him to death” (Leviticus 24:14) And if his engaged, virgin daughter (note that she HAS to be both a virgin and an engaged one, namely be another’ s man rightful “property” and all that) is raped by another man and she doesn’ t cry loudly enough, or she cries and there’ s no one around to hear her, then he must get rid of her, no questions asked. (Deuteronomy 22:23-24) And if he is one of those Leviticus-is-anti-gay sticklers (Leviticus 18:22) who thinks that gay men need to be “put to death” (Leviticus 20:13 ), he better also not be caught planting different seeds in the same field (Leviticus 19:19), eat fruit from a tree within four years of planting it (Leviticus 19:23) or indeed sleep with another man’ s slave (Leviticus 19:20) and if he just can’ t help it, he better have a ram stranding by, ‘cause he will need to sacrifice it asap. (note: his supposedly unfaithful wife needed to be stoned to death, yet he can get away with raping a slave by sacrificing a poor ram…) And if he comes upon any messengers of God, he should go ahead and throw his daughters to be gang-raped by a bunch of wild guys if he is to save those messengers and keep them from being raped by the same (obviously bisexual) bunch of wild guys. They are only women after all, and it will please his God quite a bit! (“Behold, I have two daughters who have not known any man. Let me bring them out to you, and do to them as you please. Only do nothing to these men, for they have come under the shelter of my roof.” – Genesis 19: 8-9) One cannot pick and choose only the passages that satisfy one’ s misogyny and homophobia, and just go about being reckless about the lenth of one’s sideburns and the flatness of one’s nose, is what I’ m saying.

The thing is, when you make such angry misogynistic biblical utterances your compass, is it any wonder that you start actually believing that rape and incest are “the will of God?”

Women as “Hosts”:

Oklahoma is unfortunately not “doin’ fine” and when it comes to women’ s Rights (Human Rights!) is NOT “O.K.!” at all. Another Oklahoma state legislator, Rep. Justin Humphrey, earlier this year, tried to push a similar bill that would require a woman to reveal the father’ s name and to get “written, informed” consent of her sexual partner if she wants to have an abortion. Even though women’ s bodies are directly affected by pregnancy and their entire lives are considerably more affected by having children than men’ s own. But more to the point, take a minute to contemplate what a joke it is, to talk of “the male right of consent” when it comes to the countless rape victims: a woman does not have to give her own consent when a guy decides to use her body by force, but he needs to give his own (in writing no less!) if she gets pregnant as the result of being sexually abused by him! This bill will incidentally result in her having her rapist always in her life, not to mention that fact that her child will be forced to have a rapist for a father… The House Bill also says fathers can veto a women’ s decision to go forward with the abortion, even in the case of incest! Take another minute to ponder on that…

In another The Handmaiden’s Tale-like twist, Rep. Justin Humphrey went on to justify his reasoning, by informing the world that a woman is merely a “host”, and once she decides to be “irresponsible” by having sex (the guy with whom she is having this sex, is of course blameless) her body is no longer entirely her own because she will always be a potential “host”! Put in his own (remarkably “eloquent”) words: “I understand that they feel like that is their body,” he said of women (note to him: actually dude, we don’t “feel” that. It IS our body!). “I feel like it is a separate — what I call them is, is you’ re a ‘host. You (women) know when you enter into a relationship you’ re going to be that host and so, you know, if you pre-know that then take all precautions and don’ t get pregnant. After you’ re irresponsible then don’t claim, well, I can just go and do this with another body, when you ’re the host and you invited that in.”

 He is of course downright Aristotelian, in his misogyny (though I have my doubts whether the stetson-wearing Oklahoman has heard of Aristotle). In fact, the Greek philosopher’ s notion was that men are the sole “life givers”, and women are merely the incubators”, the potting soil” for the male “live seed”. Aristotle, also claimed that mothers have no actual relation to their children (!), since they are merely the “hosts” for as long as pregnancy lasts. (That is why in ancient Greece, matricide – the killing of one’s mother – was not considered a crime, while patricide was a very severe one…) In Aristotelian terms, (much like in the world of The Handmaid’ s Tale), mothers were merely the wombs that brought children to the world, and fathers had the reproductive ownership of those children. (Aristotle was born some 2,400 years ago  though, what’ s this guy’ s excuse?)

Even though this notion was of course also a popular ancient Hebrew belief (and one of the many reasons why the Old Testament is such a fun read for feminists – or anyone who is not intellectually speaking, still stuck in the Iron Age), Aristotle’ s re-imagining of it, has left a lasting mark on Judeo-Christian tradition and the writings of the Church Fathers, (and the Koran) and was particularly popular throughout the Middle Ages, (the actual ones, and the hypothetic ones in which we are currently living obviously) It was based on Pythagora’s own theory of “spermism”, which claimed that fathers contribute the essential characteristics of their offspring, while mothers are the “passive vessels” and contribute only a material substrate (the “surface” on which life is “deposited”). A theory that in turn influenced 18th-century Christianity, as expressed in “preformationism” (or preformism), which was only one of the many similar theories that attempted to offer “evidence” that women are just “nurturers” and not actual parents to their kids! This particular theory, claims that there is a ‘homunculus”, (an actual miniature man!) inside every sperm, whom scientists claimed to have been able to see through their microscopes (or should I say magic spheres?) and that of course offered a so-called “scientific” proof that only men give life… (the fact that women literally carried a human being in their bellies was not seen as important….) Which is another way of saying: men have been trying literary for centuries to devaluate women in every way imaginable, even in their most obvious role as mothers.

Genetics proved centuries later what a lot of complete nonsense those notions were of course, proving that we share genes with both our parents (and if anything we are “more” related to our mothers). Which means the mothers of all those biblical prophets who were so particular about their father’ s lineage, and all those ancient philosophers who spent all that time theorizing about how they had no relation to their mums, and all those pseudo-scientists who were claiming to be able to see little men inside their sperm, not to mention all the modern-day conservatives, were hardly merely the “incubators” that carried them!

Such notions are of course still popular in many places around the world, (regardless of science, or common sense) and children are legally seen as more, or even solely their father’ s children, and are for this reason more likely – by far – to take his patronym. Moreover, sons are seen as considerably more important than girls, and the sole “carriers” of the bloodline, a notion that is dangerous as it not only justifies Patriarchy, but also the killing of countless baby girls every single day. These kinds of religious, philosophical and pseudo-scientifical notions, were fundamental in the exploitation of women through the centuries, as they were seen as a “proof” of a woman’ s inferiority, and an excuse for her social exclusion, sexual exploitation and economic dependency.

Present-day Right-winged lawmakers know it well: If you want to control women’ s reproductive roles by laws and regulations, you do it by the continuous and relentless repetition of those same old biased “philosophical” or so-called scientific theories, and religious aphorisms. It is a simple enough method, and it has worked for countless generations. As soon as the Women’s Rights movement started gaining ground, the old laws, the age-old bias needed to be revisited, and what better place to start than at the beginning? Namely at religion, which makes a come-back in our days, masked as a nostalgia for “traditional values”, and which is nothing more than a blatant attempt to strip women of their rights.

 And by the way, can we just face it, that Christian religious fundamentalists who are obsessed with “family values” and take the bible in its literal sense are not that different from Moslem ones? And can we finally face it, that the sexism that can be found in Islam, has actually been stolen from our own Old Testament? Misogyny is hardwired in our own religion, in our own culture as well. It’ s all there: everything the sharia law prescribes, every command about selling one’s daughters, and taking revenge on one’s enemies, and stoning, and lashing, and sex slavery and victim-blaming when it comes to rape, and the covering of the head, and the cutting of the arms, and the gouging of the eyes, it’s all there! Every woman-hating utterance, every attempt to keep women silent and subservient and compliant and under the control of fathers and husbands, and basically punish them for not being men, every chilling cruelty we find to be unthinkable and barbaric and alien to us, is all there and if we allow it, it will also become our present for once more. Christians have been through that phase too (and in theory at least, went pass it). It’s just “newer” to them. That is why they hold on to it, with white-knuckled (and bloody) hands. Making it their only compass. This is their own Middle Ages. These are their own Inquisition days. They just did’ t have 2000 years (and change) to work things out, and become able to see through the darkness…

What’ s our excuse??


“The Dystopia is Near – Part I”- 30th of May 2017
Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorised use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications. 

ART by Fanitsa Petrou:  http://www.fanitsa-petrou.com


 For links, references & suggested reading, scroll down at the bottom of this page:https://wp.me/P7jQTY-vY

Read also: “The Handmaid’s Tale – The stuff female fears are made of”: http://wp.me/p7jQTY-uY


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THE HANDMAID’S TALE – A Review

The Handmaid’ s Tale –

The stuff that female fears are made of.

~ A Review ~

(Includes Spoilers – season 01)

Art & words by Fanitsa Petrou

“Keep your shit together”, she keeps saying to herself, as she recites the woman-hating words along with the rest of them: “Her fault! Her fault! Her fault!”

“…it was a sign of what was to come. Of that misogynistic righteousness that was boiling over, of that old primal male need to judge women by their body, to brand them by their sexuality, which is to their eyes threatening and offensive and in need of “punishment”. It is out there in our own societies too. In victim blaming when it comes to rape, in American schools that teach abstinence and encourage girls (only girls of course) to sign “virgin pledges” and offer them to their fathers (!), in women being slut-shamed for having relationships or (the horror, the horror) children out-of-wedlock. In the specific and increasingly more popular narrative favoured by porn and pop culture, in which the man is the punisher and the woman wants nothing more than to be punished, that subtly works on a subconscious level as a very affective way of bringing back the traditional gender roles of old, systematically altering the way relationships (in sexual as well as psychological, political and social terms) are being viewed by a whole generation of young people! “

 

 

***

Margaret Atwood’ s 32-year-old, gripping novel The Handmaid’ s Tale, about a near-future dystopia has been recently adapted into a TV series by Hulu, and it is absolutely brilliant (and if you are a woman, also utterly terrifying). Atwood constructs a nightmarish world in which the government of the United States, after an unspecified environmental catastrophe which had rendered most of the women sterile, is replaced by Gilead. That is a religious fundamentalist regime (of the Christian variety), that aspires to “return to traditional values” (that again!) by stripping all women of their rights, and reducing them into breeding stock. 

It is the kind of show that redefines TV storytelling: thought-provoking, engaging, artistic, beautiful, and with heart. In a time when being “gritty” is TV’s greatest concern, The Handmaid’ s Tale shows us how it’ s done. How you can go to dark, scary, places, without sacrificing your humanity in order to get there: it is that rarity of a contemporary TV show in which violence against women is not there to serve the usual, porn-inspired voyeuristic purposes.  The kind of show that you both can’t stop, as well as  dread watching… It is well written, with inspired direction, and costume design, not to mention it has Elisabeth Moss, the show’ s greatest asset, who deserves every acting award that’ s out there – and a few that have not been thought of yet… She gives a multifaceted performance (mostly with her eyes), rich with nuances and delicate subtleties, which breaks our heart in every scene. 

When The Gilead theocracy comes to power, when women are told they have no rights, people go to the streets. They react with protests and marches (that look cunningly like the ones that took place all over the world, after Donald Trump was inaugurated) which are met with gunfire. And then the women are taken. Those who cannot have children are “reclassified” as “unwomen” and sent to the “colonies” to shovel toxic waste and die from it. (Because a woman’ s only real purpose within any Patriarchy, within any religion, is after all motherhood. If you don’ t have children, you are a waste, you are an “unwoman”, a nothing…) Some women become “Marthas”: nameless servants toiling away so that the upper echelons of the regime are kept in luxury, taking their common name from the biblical Martha, Lazarus’ s sister, who unlike her sister Maria would rather busy herself with household chores than show any interest in Jesus’ s teachings. That’ s what Marthas are supposed to be: mindless servants, hands that clean and cook and nothing more. The rest, the few, the “lucky ones” who are still fertile, are first sent to concentration camps, in order go through the process of having all traces of independence (physically and mentally) beaten out of them.

The signs were there from before of course: as the heroine and her friend go for a run and stop at a coffee shop, the waiter looks at them and for no reason whatsoever calls them “fucking sluts”. They laugh it off and leave the place, but it was a sign of what was to come. Of that misogynistic righteousness that was boiling over. Of that old primal male need to judge women by their body, to brand them by their sexuality, which is to their eyes threatening and offensive and in need of “punishment”. It is out there in our own societies too. In victim blaming when it comes to rape, in American schools that teach abstinence and encourage girls (only girls of course) to sign “virgin pledges” and offer them to their fathers (!), in women being slut-shamed for having relationships or (the horror, the horror) children out-of-wedlock. In the efforts to overturn to overturn Roe v. Wade. In the specific and increasingly more popular narrative favoured by porn and pop culture, in which the man is the punisher and the woman wants nothing more than to be punished, that subtly works on a subconscious level as a very affective way of bringing back the traditional gender roles of old,  systematically altering the way relationships (in sexual as well as psychological, political and social terms) are being viewed by a whole generation of young people! (Is it any wonder that young people, who are mostly taught about gender roles and sex from social media and porn) are according to new studies embracing again the female homemaking” / “male breadwinning” / and “male authority in the home” mode? – see: 1* )

The world before the Gilead theocracy was one like the one we know: women were falling in love, going for a run, having coffees and secret affairs, and jobs, and ambitions, and families, and then one day, they were told they were not allowed to. That’s how it started in Afghanistan before the Taliban, or in Iran, before the revolution, by the way. Afghan girls were free to get an education, go to college, dress as they chose, have jobs and options which were all taken overnight when the Taliban seized control of Kabul in 1996, prohibiting women from work, and introducing Islamic punishments such as stoning to death and amputations. Likewise, women in Iran before the 1978-79 revolution were free to live their life as they chose. They were caught on camera dancing, doing the ‘Tehran twist’ to local rock bands, wearing miniskirts and hot pants, sunbathing by swimming pools and enjoying life. And then after the revolution, they’ ve stopped being considered human beings. Their existence became offensive and their bodies a threat that needed to be hidden, controlled, punished. That’s how it can begin. Overnight. The liberties that were earned at high costs, and which we tend to take for granted, that’s how they can be taken away from us. Overnight.

“When they slaughtered Congress, we didn’t wake up,” the heroine remembers. “When they blamed terrorists and suspended the Constitution, we didn’t wake up then, either”, she warns us. Doesn’ t it sound familiar? Using terrorist attacks as an excuse to take away people’ s civil liberties? Using their fear to justify injustice? The streets are suddenly packed with heavily armed soldiers. The disobedient, the abortion doctors, or those who are gay, are being hanged in public executions. “Hello” and “Good morning” are replaced with biblical greetings (Blessed be the fruit”, “Peace be with you”, “Praise be His bounty”, “May God make thy truly worthy”, and all that) that constantly remind women that they are nothing but “hosts” (as real-life, Oklahoma Republican Justin Herny also claimed a few days ago incidentally).

In The Handmaid’s Tale universe, the nightmare begins when all bank accounts in women’ s names are frozen, their money being transferred to their husbands’ s names or male next of kin. Then women are told they are not allowed to own property or have jobs. “That’ s Ok baby. I’ ll take care of you” the heroine’ s husband – who is one of the good guys by the way – says to her, and as much as it is something out of the nothing with which she is left, it also feels – one imagines – like a slap in the face. In one single moment, she is rendered helpless. And grateful. Placed into her husband’ s hands. She has no power, no control over her life (or her body as she will discover soon enough) unless a man, to whom she will be indebted, is giving it to her. That’ s how it works. That’ s how it did for thousands of years. That’ s how marriage had endured as an institution for so many generations. This is its real purpose. To keep you safe. And small. If you are rendered powerless you start needing a savior. A man to take care of you. To give you an allowance. Just like to a child. And if there is violence out there that is specifically aimed at you, you start being scared. You start needing a protector. That’ s the way it goes. It is a trusted model. It has worked before. It kept women obedient, silent, needy. And grateful. In their place. Using their bodies (as sexual partners, wives, mothers, or prostitutes) as currency. Because they were left with nothing else. Patriarchy just doesn’t work if women have options that include other non-domestic related dreams. If they get to have power, which is to say, choices other than being pretty and well-behaved, getting a husband, then keeping a husband, having kids, not ageing. This is full spectrum of things that are available. Patriarchy just doesn’ t work, if women start believing that there are other kinds of lives out there. If they are strong, self-sufficient, self-reliant, not economically dependant on men. If they are more than their bodies. How can it? 

We might as well face it: that thing that brought about the collapse of the “old world” and made room for the Gilead theocracy is here. We feel it too. That religiosity, that hypocrisy, that masked-as-concern-about morals cruelty, that need to “return to traditional values” that is revisited, that old obsession with marriage and child-birth that is becoming a woman’ s supreme goal again (even a fashion thing!), that old misogyny, that old male rage, that need to rape, to punish, to have women obey, occupy less public space, made smaller, pushed out of the political arena – unless they look like Barbies and speak like men of course. That primal, ugly, scary thing that HAS to put us in our place. For speaking out, for not being obedient enough, silent enough or satisfied enough to be only concerned with our looks and our roles as mothers. It becomes “official” with laws that attempt to control Women’s reproductive Rights and support economical inequalities between the genders. That’s how it starts. For now. It is a beginning. And it does the job.

In The Handmaid’ s Tale, as soon things start going south, the heroine with her husband and daughter try to escape to Canada (sounds familiar?), but her husband gets killed by the militia (or so she thinks), and her daughter is taken from her, because her husband was married before, and in the eyes of the religious regime, it makes their child illegitimate and no longer theirs… As she is still fertile, she ends up in a Concentration Camp to be with the rest of the fertile women properly disciplined. Trained in the ways of the New World. There, the captive women are basically taught by the “Aunts” (stern, pious, chillingly cruel older women who put nurse Ratchet to shame), that from now on, they will be nothing but wombs. They are told about the “plague of infertility” and how it was their fault. They were “Dirty women! Sluts! Birth control pills, morning-after pills, murdering babies, so they could have their orgies!” (all on their own apparently…) If any of them reacts to this, she is tasered with a cattle prod (because what are they if not cattle?) by the Aunt who recites biblical quotes as she is doing it, or worse, they are blinded (“If my right eye offends thy, pluck it out” and all that) They sure know their scriptures, and they take them upon their literal meaning, as cruel, misogynistic, self-hating people often do, turning the clock back to the Old Testament Times. They torture the undisciplined fertile women, gouge out their eyes, mutilate their genitals if they are lesbians, cut off their finger if they are caught reading a book, (and if they are caught a second time, their entire arm), but they don’ t kill them. “We are not without mercy”, they say. Their ovaries are too precious after all. And they are nothing more than two-legged ovaries for the regime… They even have plants to send them to Mexico and trade them for chocolate. Like commodities.

“He (meaning God of course) left you intact for a biblical purpose”, they are told. They are also taught that being raped is a woman’s fault. “Who let them on?” the Aunts ask. “Whose fault was it?” “Her fault! Her fault! Her fault!” the women are taught to chant in unison, being indoctrinated in systematic misogyny, in the blind surrender to male needs, in the male perspective of things, and in that good old victim-blaming that biblical prophets, Muslim fundamentalists and Right wingers love so much“And why did God allowed such a horrible thing to happen?” the Aunt continues. “Teach her a lesson!” “Teach her a lesson!” “Teach her a lesson!” the women chant back obediently. And if they don’ t, they are taken away and return with one eye… It’ s a simple enough system. And it works. “Keep your shit together” our heroine keeps saying to herself, as she recites the woman-hating words along with the rest of them: “Her fault! Her fault! Her fault!”

Even their names are taken away from them. They are to forget them and take the names of their masters. Our heroine whose master is Fred, is therefore named Offred (as in “Of Fred: the one who belongs to Fred”) for as long as he is her master. Margaret Adwood is a cunning one. She hits the nail right on the head. Even the nail you don’t see it’ s there. She reminds us of how absurd our present is, while she seems to be talking about this grim, made up future: don’ t women still take the patronym of their fathers (despite the fact they are given birth by their mothers, and even when they are mostly, or often solely raised by them?) Don’ t women give their husband’s family name to their kids as if they, themselves do not exist? As if they bear no relation to them? And don’ t they take their husbands’ s names when they get married? Gladly, as if it is a natural thing, a desirable thing to do? “It shows love, it shows respect”, they say to this day as they are changing their names, loosing gladly a part of them. Can we see what it means? What it represents? How it is one of the millions little things by which we are – willingly – made smaller?

But there is no nightmare greater than the one described as “the ceremony” for which these women are kept alive. Each one of them is assigned to a family that belongs to the ruling class of the Commanders who have no children, so that she will be forced to mate with one of  them. If she gets pregnant, the child will be taken from her and given to his wife, who is by the way present during the “Ceremony”. The sex slave is kept in the house  pretty much like a prisoner (much like countless married women around the world). She is only allowed to run errands at the supermarket which looks more like hospitals, with their symmetrical stacks of wholesome, identical, unbranded goods which are labeled with pictures (because women should not read…) They go in pairs “for their protection” (much like college students are told to go in pairs at modern-day campuses as a precaution that will keep men from raping them) But the handmaids also go in pairs in order to spy on each other. Everywhere they go there are “Eyes”, spies who can report any transgression and punish them for it. “Darkenss and secrets are everywhere”…

The only liberties the handmaids are allowed, is to stand in military formation to watch executions, and in the case or rapists, to become the executioners themselves: when a man rapes a handmaid (other than the Commanders who have the “God-given” right to do that of course), the handmaids are allowed to kill him themselves. They start by hitting him all of them at once, and as the memories of their daily humiliations and assaults turn to wild rage, they (who are in Atwoods words “so rigidly controlled”) become like the maenads of Greek myth, and it won’ t be long before they tear him to pieces with their bare hands! This ritual is a “steam valve” of course: a clever way of directing the pent up rage that is building up inside them onto these random rapists who act as scapegoats, keeping the Commanders (the legal rapists) safe…

Each “caste” of women is dressed in their assigned identical uniforms that indicate their roles: The Aunts are dressed in matronly browns, and  their uniforms seem to be referencing early 20th century female prison guards / police officers. The Marthas are dressed in their shapeless Puritan / pilgrim-like blunt greens, and the Handmaids with their 17th century New England / Puritan-inspired dresses, which when they go out of the home they cover head to toe with cloaks, for the same reason Moslem women are covered: to keep them “safe” and to keep them from tempting men, because it is their fault if men are tempted (after all, only their commanders have the legal right to rape them!) Their faces are hidden behind their high bonnets, and their cloaks / uniforms are red: red as the colour of menstruation and childbirth, and so  a constant reminder of their role as breeding stock. They are also referencing, according to Atwood’ s novel, the red markings that were sewn onto the uniforms of German WWII prisoners in Canada, that were meant to be seen from afar in order to alert the authorities of escape) The wives’ clothes on the other hand, reflect a 50s inspired feminine “perfection”: they all wear high heels, identical well-tailored green dresses with a tight waist and a full skirt or a knee-lenth, pencil one, and have their hair styled in immaculate chignons. (Funny how all sexists turn their eyes to the 50s with predictable nostalgia. Back to the time when women had to leave the factories and the jobs they took on account of the war, and forced to learn their lesson, forced to return back to their corset-wearing / breeding stock / roast-pork-cooking destinies, looking like they really mean it…)

Serena, the Commander’ s wife played by Yvonne Strahovski, (the karate kicking spy from “Chuck”! showing here some serious acting chops) wants a child so badly that she is (like the rest of the “wives”) OK with watching her husband rape another woman in her presence. She is a bitter, cold woman who hates Offred as much as she needs her too. Full of self-loathing for her own infertility, and rage for them both, she is caught in her own private hell. She fought along with her husband for this world to come about, that would “save” women from “choices” (like so many modern-day , well-groomed American Republican women who leave the rest of us wondering “what the hell?” in disbelief as soon as she they open her mouth), and she is ironically caught in the same trap. When for example she is upset for being refused to read the speech she prepared for an event celebrating the new regime, this is seen as a female “weakness”. “This is our fault. We gave them more they could handle” the other commanders tell to her husband. “They put so much focus on academic pursuits and professional ambition, we let them forget their real purpose. We won’ t let that happen again”. (What girl who has “ambitions”, dreams that go beyond marriage and kids has not heard the same words again and again, I ask you?) She used to be a writer (albeit of books on sexist propaganda) which she is now not even allowed to read (reading being a sin for women!) and spends her days gardening, or paintings watercolours like some idle Victorian lady, living a slow and insignificant life of luxury and privilege, but there are rooms inside her own home where she is not allowed to go. Rooms where her husband goes to talk with other men about serious matters. Matters that are no woman’ s business. Like in all patriarchies, her power is only over other women. 

On “ceremony” nights, Serena, Offred and the Commander (played by Joseph Fiennes) are reenacting the biblical story of the childless Rachel who wanted children so badly that she asked her husband Jacob to have sex with her handmaid Bilhah, who acted as a surrogate mother (without being asked I bet, but that little detail did not make it to the Scriptures). Offred, is in her own words “bathed and brushed like a prized pig” and then led to the couples’ s bedroom. The ceremony starts with the reading of the story of Rachel “Give me children or else I die” (Gen.30:1). Offred then lays in Serena’ s lap, who holds her down as the Commander rapes her. Their copulation is a clinical, mechanical business (sex within the scope of religion is solely for reproductive purposes after all), and watching it, is deeply disturbing. In fact it feels like a punch in the gut. Offred is obviously nothing but an object. Much like the Germans were unable to see any humanity in the Jewish people they were torturing or gassing, or how the slave owners in the American South were unable to see their slaves as actual human beings, Offred is less than nothing to their eyes. A necessity. An object to be used and discarded.

This is more familiar than we like to think, and it is I believe not just meant to reflect the complexities involved in surrogacy, but also the cruel complexities and daily indignities of traditional marriage, the whole book being an allegory of that as well: how many women from all over the world and for countless generations have been “buying” their own children at high costs: their desire to have a family planted in their heads from an early age by religion, culture, the mechanics of Patriarchy, and their own biology, which prompts them (when they are not forced) to get married with guys they don’ t love, respect, tolerate, or even met before their wedding day, or stay with them after they’ ve stopped loving them, enduring their cheating, or bad sexual practises, and now-a-days porn addictions, and their own private, daily humiliations and loss of potential, for those old fashion reasons: because they feel helpless, desperate, without a voice, prisoners inside their own life, with no options and possibly above all, in order to have kids, and when they do have them, “for their sake”. This is how it still goes for countless women out there. This is the reality that is hidden behind God knows how many closed doors, God knows how many closed female hearts… It also hints on the fact that in many places around the world, marital rape is socially acceptable, as well as legally permitted, not to mention rapists are offered the legal loophole to avoid punishment and prosecution by marrying their victims – so they will get to rape them for life and at their leisure… In the Gilead theocracy, the rape of the Handmaids is seen as part of the “sanctity” of marriage, which makes it all OK: marriage is sacred, marriage is good, and so is everything that goes on within it…

It is not long of course, before the Commander begins to get ideas and  no longer  be satisfied with their clinical arrangement. He soon starts asking her to meet him in his room (which goes against the rules) for secret games of scrabble, and he offers her fashion magazines (which are now forbidden) as a form of flirting, and speaking about the “ceremony” he complains that he “finds the whole thing to be so impersonal” (Ya think?) Asking her to give him a ‘real” kiss, which causes her to brush her teeth so frantically after it, that her gums bleed… He is – like most men are – unaware of the complexities of her soul, of her torment, of the rage that is seething underneath her calm surfaces. He treats her as if she is a child, a love interest he is trying to seduce with little treats. He obviously feels flattered that she comes to their secret meetings, conveniently forgetting that she is his prisoner. A prisoner he monthly rapes.

 When Serena gets mad at her for not getting pregnant (this too being her fault) Offred is banished in her tiny room that has shatterproof windows (so she can’ t slash her wrists with glass and kill herself – that would be a waste of a perfectly good womb). When Serena despairs that maybe her husband is infertile too (though it is actually forbidden to even imply that men can be sterile…) and all their efforts are wasted, she enforces Offred to reenact the raping ceremony with Nick, the Commander’ s driver. This is a particularly cruel twist, as Offred has started having feelings for him. (Nick is played by Max Minghella – admittedly, the only casting choice that is a bit of a head scratcher, not necessarily on account of his acting, but because despite his age, Minghella still looks like a brooding adolescent)

Offred’s companion at the daily trips to the shops is Ofglen (portrayed by a surprisingly good Alexis Bledel – she of the Gilmore Girls fame – who is here playing against type, and is giving the performance of her life). Ofglen who used to be a lecturer in cellular biology, is now reduced like the rest of them, into a breeding slave. Even though all the college professors were sent to the colonies, she was spared on account of her “good ovaries”. She is a lesbian (or in terms of the new regime:  “A gender traitor, a disgusting beast”) and when she gets involved with a Martha, she is arrested, gagged and sent to trial. Laws have been replaced with biblical ones: “The accused stands charged with Gender Treachery and Violation of Romans Chapter one, Verse 26”. The Martha, her companion, is hanged in a public execution, but Ofglen is spared on account that she is fertile, and sentenced to “Redemption”: She is forced to endure a clitorectomy . She is “reformed”, so that “she won’ t want what she cannot have”. When Offred meets her again, she has changed master and name (she is now Ofsteven) and is obviously broken, but there is still something in her that fights back: in a moment of mad rebellion, she runs into the crowd and steals a car and just drives, even though she is not allowed to. She drives and drives in circles, saving her soul, before she is of course taken by the guards…

“They didn’ t get everything, there was something inside her they couldn’ t take away” Offred thinks. When she returns home, she runs to Nick’ s room and they make love, as if they are free… As if it is still allowed. Is if they are still themselves.

Offred is a slave but there is still a spark in her. Something that it is undefeated, something that is still unbroken, that fights back. She acts like she is obedient, simple-minded, grateful, but inside her, there are storms raging and we hear her voice (through the narration) resisting, holding on, while we are watching her being humiliated and treated like a child, or like cattle. And she has her own moments of private rebellion, like for example when invited to the birthing ceremony of a handmaid who is giving birth with all the other handmaids around her chanting their “Breath. Breath, Breath, Exhale, Exhale, Exhale” mantras in unison, and she stumbles upon the gathering of the wives who are having their tea and their cakes, and one of them asks condescendingly: “Would you like a cookie?” as if she talking to a child. “You should not spoil them. Sugar is bad for them” another replies. When the first woman offers her the cookie, and Offred takes it, one of them says about Offred (who by the way used to be an editor in a publishing house…): “Oh, isn’ t she well-behaved!” (as if she is a dog) and another adds “Little whores all of them!” Offered pretends that she doesn’ t mind, that she doesn’ t get what they are talking about, but when she goes to the toilet, even though it must have been a long time since she’ s eaten anything that good, she crumples the cookie and throws it into the sink. Or on another occasion, when she refuses to take the new magazines the Commander offers her, after he assures her how this New World Order was for their “own good”, because now womenhave protection to fulfil their biological destinies in peace” and then goes on to inform her what happened to Ofglen. Or like when the Aunt is using the cattle prod while saying to them “Blessed are the meek” and Offred looks at her in defiance, and reminds her what the rest of the verse is: “for they shall inherit the Earth” (Mat 5:5) implying that maybe their own day will come. And that’ s how she gets not to be broken altogether. By her tiny, private acts of rebellion, which keep her spirit intact.

“There is nothing in this book that didn’ t happen somewhere, sometime in history” Margaret Atwood was quoted to say. Lately more and more chilling details of her fictional world are beginning to feel disquietingly contemporary. “We only wanted to make the world better” the Commander assures Offred. “Better never means better for everyone. It always means worse for some” he explains matter-of-factly Must sound cunningly familiar to the many Americans – especially the women – who are now daily being victimized by the “Make America better” efforts of the new Republican government, or the cruel self-righteousness of the New Right in many European countries for that matter…

Resist”, don’ t ignore a threat, gather information, don’ t underestimate your strength, care for each other”, are some of Atwood’ s remedies for dealing with what is going on in the world today. And when she was recently asked what you need to do if you are a woman, the 77-year-old author said: “Take self-defense lessons…There’ s something called Wen-Do. It’ s good, I am told.”

It has come to that…


“The Handmaid’ s Tale – The stuff that female fears are made of “- Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorised use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications. 

1*: https://www.washingtonpost.com/posteverything/wp/2017/04/05/why-would-millennial-men-prefer-stay-at-home-wives-race-and-feminism/?noredirect=on&utm_term=.2d2d476c7f00


Check out the collections I created inspired by The Handmaid’s Tale 

Read also: “The Dystopia is already here – Marching Gilead: http://wp.me/p7jQTY-vW 

ART by Fanitsa Petrou:  http://www.fanitsa-petrou.com


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Posted in Feminist Posts, In English, TV / Movie Reviews. | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Comments Off on THE HANDMAID’S TALE – A Review

Millennial Times

Millennial Times

& the Social Media Fishbowl

(To My Generation, Part III)

Art & Words by Fanitsa Petrou

Plus you are probably a website designer who re-reads the Harry Potter novels every year (and secretly believes that he is a Hufflepuff), not to mention you still sleep in your Star Wars PJs, spooning with your rescue French Bulldog, for godsakes! How tough do you think we think you are, by looking at your “mean” old beard?

Being born in the late sixties, and facing the big five-O coming your way, like an omen the size of a ship (or possibly a planet), is quite an eye-opener. It gives you  clarity and perspective, but at the same time, renders you unable to have any kind of patience with certain things. Or with certain types of millennials, who you might as well admit it, annoy the hell out of you. (Cause you are finally old enough to have gained the right to! And it feels damn good too!) Yes, yes our generation apparently did screw up the world, and then they inherited it, but guess what millennials? The generation that came before us, screwed up OUR world and then we inherited it. And then got annoyed with us on top of that. And there is no doubt in my mind, in a couple of decades you will feel equally annoyed with the generation that comes after you. And given that you will undoubtedly going to raise it with your favorite “hey, it’ s your choice” approach, you better brace themselves: it’ s gonna get ugly! That’ s just the way it goes baby. It’ s the damn circle of life. “Every generation” (like the oldie but goodie song – from the eighties no less – goes) “blames the one before” and is annoyed with that one that comes after it… because “We all talk a different language / Talking in defence”. That’ s right!

So yes, I do feel strongly about the specific group of young people who use activism as a way to promote themselves, who are more concerned with appearing to care about issues, than actually doing anything substantial about them. Who use studies as a decoy tactic that will prolong their childhood indefinitely, and would go for a second degree (and a third and a fourth if they must) not because they are so gifted academically, but in order to postpone the time when they’ ll have to finally became adults, taking responsibility for their own life. Who are blissfully ignorant of their own human limitations and just feel outstandingly, world-class-kind-of-“special”-and-“creative” even if there is no indication whatsoever that they are indeed that, and even if they are not doing anything to justify such a characterisation. (Boy I must be ageing!!! This rightful indignation business feels really REALLY good all of a sudden!) Plus the beards; The faux artistic interests; The usually yellow or green hipster T-shirts with the crude, child-like drawings (undoubtedly designed by other “designer” millennials); The waxed handlebar moustaches; The beards; The way too short bangs on girls, that look like they were cut by a mental patient using a letter opener; The sexual “experimentation” and the endless, random hook-ups with totally random people, or often with their close friends which apparently mean “nothing”; The “sexual fluidity” (I mean you are practically  in your thirties! Pick a side already!); The glasses that are worn not in order to improve one’ s eye-sight, but “ironically”. (What next? Ironical hearing devices?); the pointless apps; And the beards. (Did I mention the beards?) The fucking “I-have-just-invented-the-telegram-machine / I-have-just-enlisted-in-Isis” long beards! I mean yes, you are a man. You can grow facial hair. We get it. We are impressed. But ENOUGH! Buy a razor. A pair of scissors. A comp. A shampoo. Something! Trim the damn thing. Nobody wants to see what you’ ve eaten yesterday still lingering there. Plus you are probably a website designer who re-reads the Harry Potter novels every year (and secretly believes that he must be a Hufflepuff), not to mention you still sleep in your Star Wars PJs (which are probably still being washed by your mum), spooning with your rescue French Bulldog, for godsakes! How tough do you think we think you are, by looking at your “mean” ol’ beard?

Not to mention that at some point you will have to realise that long, bushy, wild, unkept beards, have a very bad rep, as they have through the centuries been attached to misogyny, in all its wonderful, disgusting forms. They were for example favoured by the Old Testament prophets who used to get a serious kick out of uttering angry aphorisms about female “vices”; or by creepy, polygamous leaders of cults; loner white supremacists who kill rodents for lunch, and live in compounds with other heavily armed – and heavily bearded guys – in the middle of forests, chopping wood, muttering incoherently about those crazy feminists who are taking over the world, and dreaming of someday overthrowing the government and showing them what they deserve; Moslem fundamentalists; Amish priests; Greek Orthodox priests; Jewish Orthodox priests; and generally speaking, women-hating priests, women-hating monks and women-hating hermits of any religion. (Not to mention the fictional hordes of rapists in Game of Thrones…) All of them seriously and unhealthily obsessed with a woman’ s “morals”. Was that what you are going for? Is that REALLY the message you are trying to send to women with your long beard: not that you hope they’ ll think you are cool, and hopefully will want to hook up with you, but that they should be ashamed for ever thinking about it? Could it be that you may need to rethink the whole thing I wonder?

I kid the millennials of course, who are lovely (not counting the far too long beards and the far too short bangs obviously). We probably were worse at their age, what do I know? (Those ra-ra skirts alone, should be enough to condemn us as a generation of questionable intelligence…) And they were admittedly dealt a bad hand: first they were spoiled by our generation, and made to believe that every single one of them deserves the Sun, the Moon, and all the stars above, and then thrown into the dark pit of a financial crisis. It can’t be easy… (If it’s one thing we can say about the generation that preceded us, is that it at least made sure to prepare us for failure and disappointment, so we have that working for us…) Plus this is a far more complicated and much less innocent time to be young, and in fact we are all (young, middle-aged, or old) daily loosing our grip on reality, anyway. We are daily being seduced for example, by the idea that we have the freedom to have and express opinions about the things that matter to us, just because we have an access to social media, which is what I call the “millennial way of thinking” (which by the way has nothing to do with one’s age or generation!) Before the Internet and smartphones’ profound takeover of society, unless you were a columnist, an author, a newsperson, a politician, an academic, a scientist of some kind, you just had no way of publicly expressing opinions about love, politics, health, life on Mars, the environment, sexuality, God, or the universe at large. Through social media, everyday people (of all ages) were granted the right to weight in, to opinionize about serious political issues, the best way to make a soufflé, or a bookcase out of wooden cases, Beyoncé’s pregnancy, Kim Kardashian’s contouring techniques, the refugee problem, feminism, or sex. And they sure love it!

But seeing life through the lens of social media, is a tricky business, and it offers an altered perception of reality – and our selves. Watching a two-minute meme about dolphins, or reading three lines on a facebook post about the war in Syria, does not mean you are now an expert on the matter. And being “liked” for your posts, is not being actually LIKED, right? Any more than posing like a star actually makes you one… And more to the point, being given a place to express opinions about things, does not automatically mean you were allowed to form them all on your own in the first place… That is because social media are part of the modern echo chamber that was created in the mid 00s (popular culture and pornography being the others), that contains in its hallow center preordained ideas we think are ours, which we end up amplifying by relentless repetition shouting them to the world and having them return back to us, cheating us into believing they are ours. A vicious circle that perpetuates the phenomenon, and keeps us safely inside the chamber and our self-deceit.

The opinions we get from other sources (like books and movies, and travelling and actual life experiences, etc) have a slow burning effect, as through them, we are being given the time to think properly about the info we receive, to process it, to discard it, or allow it to influence us in a lasting manner. But in the instant gratification / short-attention-span world of social media, ideas and perspectives are disorted. Not to mention they are created with that in mind! In the “millennial world” we all (regardless of our age) live our life inside the social media fishbowl, being watched, while watching others, projecting a self we think will be perceived by other “watchers” as “watchable”, as worthy of attention – that old powerful drug. We are “programmed” to like certain things, that will give us “Likes” back… The lines become blurred, and the opinions we perceive to be ours, and which we keep repeating to each other in posts and tweets and whatever, do not actually represent the true core of our self. If these opinions seem to be progressive for example, they don’t necessarily represent an actual individual or social evolution, just the need to appear to be that. The illusion is shuttered and the real self is revealed, whenever we are faced with real controversial issues.

One fine example, is the news of transgender athletes competing in women’s sports, even when they are not taking hormone blockers which results in them dominating and breaking women’s records. The problem is worse when it comes to violence sports like boxing, wrestling and Martial Arts, with trans athletes – which is to say MALE athletes -basically ending up literally hitting the crap out of women, because the reality is, no matter whether or not  trans individuals “identify” psychologically speaking as  women, they still have the height, the build, the muscles, and the testosterone-fueled physical strength and aggression of  their male gender. People are tip-toeing around the fact, scared that if they say anything about it, they will be seen as transphobic. The attention is of course driven away from the reality of women athletes being treated unfairly, (not to mention actually being put in danger) because whenever this side of the matter is pointed out, then you are seen by female commentators as a “terf” and a “bad feminist who hates trans women”, and you are being smugly reminded by male commentators that women are “obviously not as worthy as men”, because they are not as strong as them, as in “even a guy in make up can run faster / hit harder than a woman, and what more proof do you need of a man’s supremacy?” etc. etc. Physical strength being the supreme measure of what makes you a worthy human being and the absolute measure of all things, and all that. An argument that was also VERY popular with prehistoric cavemen and biblical prophets, not to mention present-day Moslem fundamentalists and a whollot of American Republicans, let us not forget!) A woman’s body can create actual human beings, not to mention produce blood that is the equivalent of the blood of 52 men in her lifetime (52!!) but hey, she can’t hit as hard and violently as a guy so it must mean her body is not first rate material and that she is therefore “inferior”…

The same narrative is used to claim that “cis” women are unfairly “privileged” in relation to trans women, because they have vaginas, which is apparently offensive as a reality, and seen as a threat to the rights of transgender individuals! So much so, that the Human Rights Campaign (HRC), the largest LGBT civil rights advocacy group in the United States , has suggested that doctors use the term “front hole” instead of “vagina”, while the British Medical Association has suggested the term “pregnant people” as an alternative to “pregnant women” so that transgender women are not “victimised” and “offended” by the biological realities of women… Of course, any woman who dares to point out the absurdity of all that, is again seen as a “terf” and a bad feminist and a deeply prejudiced individual who fails to see transgender women as “real” women. What THEY fail to understand, is that being a woman IS very much about having the biology of a woman, the body of a woman, the nature of a woman, not the “feeling” that you are one! Discrimination and violence against trans individuals are not the result of women having vaginas  (and calling them that), or the ability to have periods or be pregnant, and it has everything to do with men and Patriarchy. Like in the case of actual women, the violence trans individuals experience, is NOT done by anyone who has a uterus or a vagina (or pardon me, “front hole”), but by men! They should be reminded that this sort of oppression, persecution, discrimination and violence have always been gender based (AS IN THE MALE GENDER IS DOING THE VIOLENCE) and is not different from what  “cis” women (to use the horrible term) have been experiencing for thousands of years. So much so, that it is sadly part of the deal of being a female! (Welcome to the club! Being subject to discrimination, violence, injustice by MEN, and being paid less than men, is sadly part of the deal of being a woman in our societies, NOT hairdos, high heels and make up… And yes, making babies and having periods and going through the horrors of  menopause is what makes a woman, a woman! in terms of biology as well. And it is not disputable.  And it is not a choice. It is a fucking reality!)

The fact that women – the half of the Earth’ s population – are having even the language that refers to their biology, to their very nature, being altered in order to make the 0.3% of men who psychologically speaking, identify as women feel more “comfortable”, is ironically a testimony to the undeniable power of Patriarchy! Because asking women to conform to this, is actually very “male” of them… (though the irony is I bet lost on them…) Not to mention the fact that all men, including the ones who feel like they are women, would rather not face the realities of Patriarchy, yet have absolutely no difficulty in branding women as “bigoted” for the mere fact that they dare to voice their concerns. Additionally, the fact that women who have (with good reason!) learned to live with the constant possibility of male violence for the entirety of their lives, are not even allowed to say they might feel “uncomfortable” themselves with the idea of sharing a bathroom with any guy for example not because he is a transgender individual, but because he may only be pretending to be one – and are continually being asked to adjust, so that men of any persuasion are made to feel comfortable, is kind of symbolic actually…

Furthermore, the fact that right-wingers, especially in the US, are using the “public restroom access” issue as a way to indeed brand transgender people as unwanted, has nothing to do with the real concerns of women who do NOT identify with their Right, conservative transphobic agenda, but still consider it their right to not continually become smaller and less significant, losing their own rights and space (in literal and symbolic terms) in their societies, having even their biology being seen as offensive, in order to make men feel more comfortable. Why is it that people are not nearly as mad with heterosexual men, why are they not asking THEM to adjust, to give up part of their own gendered-assigned public spaces to transgender people, to change their own way of thinking, or indeed to refrain from using violence against them? Why is it that they are not seen as “bigoted” and racists for the fact that they cannot even stop themselves from bullying and using violence when in the vicinity of a trans individual, and a woman merely saying she is not 100% comfortable in having any guy pretending to be a  woman anywhere near her underage daughter’ s bathroom, is seen as that? Also, how come female athletes are seen as bigots and cowards because they dare to speak about being treated unfairly? And how come female journalists are being branded as haters and shamers when they report actual cases of men pretending to be transgenders in order to rape women, girls and boys? And how does that make them transphobic?!! Why is it always so easy to direct our anger towards the women who merely report an injustice or a gender- based crime, than the men who actually commit it?  

The bottom line is, it is not women, who need to refrain using violence against trans individuals, it is men! Feminists have nothing against trans individuals who respect others, and understand that wearing  a pair of heels and a dress does NOT make you a woman! In fact they have always been their allies and they are fighting the same battle as them – and have been fighting it for longer and with less support. Transgender individuals, have the same right as any of us to pursue self-determination and live the life they have chosen with dignity, and safety, and without violence and discrimination. But this has nothing to do with women, their vaginas, their pregnancies, their female nature and the language that refers to it, or indeed their public restrooms. It however has everything to do with men finally, (FINALLY!!) understanding that they need to adjust, evolve, become less violent and more inclusive. It also has a lot to do with transgenders realising that their “claim” over femaleness is not legit, and even though it might be offering a short-term feeling of healing, it is for most of us a hostile act. A new form of discrimination and misogyny and another way with which men are attempting to harm us.

The point is, in theory we seem to be sexually uninhibited and “cool” with a whollot of issues, and are a little too careful not to deviate too far from the so-called “progressive” path, and therefore be called a “shamer”, but when it comes right down to it, when asked to deal with real controversy, the old bias, the old sexism, the old misogyny tend to rear their ugly heads. An example of that, is also the case of an overweight woman (the plus size model Tess Holliday) who said that she would stop using Uber taxis after being fat-shamed by a Uber driver, because she considered that he had no right to comment on her size, or offer unsolicited advice on her health, she was met with ridicule and downright outrage on social media. The outrage was of course aimed not at the guy who considered it his right to comment on her appearance, but at her, for daring to exist in this world while being a fat woman, and then taking offense when she was basically reminded that she had no right to. Dozens, hundreds, of angry comments were written in a disturbingly contemptuous and dismissive language, all about how disgusting she looks, and how she got what she deserved, and how she needs to diet if she wants to be treated like a human being, or be healthy (that fact that she assured them that she IS in fact perfectly healthy makes no difference to them) by the same people who I’m sure loooove posting on social media about “feminism”, and “diversity,” and ‘tolerance” and “love”, and “inclusion”, and “beauty that “comes from within”, and all that crab. When it comes right down to it, the generic platitudes and the sugary quotes which are bought at social media interactions, Self-Help seminars or church pews, in order to make us feel “spiritual” and “special”, just don’t match that old, prejudiced, angry, sexist, anything-but-progressive self that is hidden underneath them, apparently…

The truth is, there is an undeniable urgency to appear to be “cool” and “woke” about all matters pertaining to sex and gender roles in particular, to the point that we seemed to have lost all sense of measure, reality or common sense. On the surface, we are a little too concerned about appearing open-minded, lest we are branded as “shamers”, even if this hides a secret misogyny or indeed victimises women. This is a fairly new trend actually. If you are a person of my generation, you remember the time back when expressing an unpopular opinion, was not seen as “shaming”. And more to the point, when you could tell the difference between having an opinion and actual fucking facts! Plus you knew about “old-fashioned” things like boundaries, and human decency, and dignity and the responsibility to at least attempt to shelter the next generation from your own shit, instead of using it to proof how open-minded you are, scarring it for life in the process…

Back when we knew better than address EVERY issue with an “entirely up to them” attitude: like in the case of a mother  “choosing” to breast-feed her kid until its tenth year for example, and being seen by commentators on social media as the same as “any of us drinking cow milk, and what is wrong with that”? And besides, that’s “Ok, if SHE feels it’s OK” (instead of shouting to her: “WHAT ABOUT THE KID who will have her mom breastfeeding her, at middle school for Godsakes”???); A young woman asking people for relationship advice because her boyfriend wants to make a sex tape using his friend as a cameraman, and being told by a bunch of people “hey, it’s your choice!” (instead of, you know: “dump his ass! And get a self-esteem while you are at it, so that next time it happens, you won’t be going to strangers for advice, and you will know what to do, which is: DUMP HIS ASS!”); Pedophiles who are in prison (in some Scandinavian country, I forget which one, and frankly I don’t have the stomach to Google it…) being given life-like sex dolls in the shape of adorably beautiful children, (with pigtails and cute floral dresses and rosy cheeks), so that they can assault them sexually, and people instead of seeing this as creepy and sick on a number of levels, and feeling outraged that the genius who thought of that is accommodating and feeding the pedophiles’ perversions, they consider it to be “cool” and a “good idea” since “it keeps them from going after children” (a moot point, since they are in prison at the time after all, plus where is the guarantee they won’t go after real children as soon as they are out?) and “fair for them, since other prisoners are getting conjugal visits anyway, why should they not be sexually active too?” (and you need to lie down in a darkened room for hours as soon as you read it…); Prostitution and pornography being seen as “empowering”, and “feministic” choices for women (Andrea Dworkin where, Oh where are you now that we need you the most?!); A girl (one of the many) “offering” her virginity for sale to the pervert who will be the highest bidder and being told that “it’s cool” and being congratulated on social media by a bunch of people because she gets to have a “control” (and the screaming in your head becomes audible miles away…); a father taking baths with his five year old daughter, and of course taking photos of the event, and posting them on Istagram, and people congratulating him for not being a prude and being “natural” and all that; Kids being “allowed” not to go to school because they just don’t “like” it; Rape being seen as “entertainment” in pop culture, and sadism and torture actually being romanticized by trashy literature and mainstream movies; “Human skin” leather jackets (made out of actual human skin!!!) being offered for sale, and people reacting in a nonchalant “Hey, it’s a choice for some”, kind of manner! (and your brain explodes as you are reading it!) talking in a completely nonchalant manner about where exactly in London they saw a shop dedicated exclusively to such “goods”; A baby being diagnosed with scurvy (SCURVY! The disease of pirates and old timey sailors…) on account of an almond-milk only diet (who knew that babies need nutrients and things, right?) and again people reacting in a “well it’s the parent’s choice” kind of manner!; Dolls (as in toys for little girls) being dressed in “bondage chic”, and similarly, baby clothes designed in black latex and fishnet tights and both being seen as “fun” and a “cool” parent’ s choice, leaving you wondering: “HAS THE WORLD GONE COMPLETELY MAD, OR IS IT JUST YOU? And do you HAVE to be born after the seventies in order to be unable to see that this is just a lot of crap?!!! Can we just see the point of each story, and stop being so damn politically correct all the time?

It is quite obvious that our need to appear “progressive”, unprejudiced and very, very sexual, keeps us from pausing and thinking about things before we jump into conclusions. All of the above are actual facts which have recently reached my social media newsfeeds by the way, and which were all mostly addressed in the usual “millennial” (a term I use here to describe a trend not a generation mind you) nonchalant “hey, that’s cool, if that’s what you choose to do” kind of attitude, which prompts the question: Is EVERYTHING permissible, if it makes us feel like we are open-minded and generous in our granting of our approval? Can we just acknowledge, that certain things are just sick, creepy beyond words, destructive, dangerous, abusive,  silly, or just a really, REALLY bad idea? And can we allow our self to fucking say that, instead of always being afraid that we won’t be seen as progressive if we do? And can we finally see that our progressiveness is not that real anyway?

Interestingly enough, people were NOT that cool with the news of the village Umoja in Kenya, which was founded in 1990, by 15 women who were raped by British soldiers, and which is still to this day inhabited exclusively by growing numbers of women who have suffered sexual and domestic violence, and by girls trying to escape from child marriages and female genital mutilation. Because of that, they decided to not allow any men to live anywhere near them and they live peacefully and with safety, taking care of each other and themselves. This particular piece of news, was like I said, not met with the usual, nonchalant “Hey, if that’s what they want to do, it’s their choice” commentary. People were all of a sudden taking a stance, taking it personally even, and actually voicing an opinion – as they have not done when it came to the human skin jacket guy, the underage girl selling herself off on the Internet, the bondage-chic baby clothes, the little creep who wants to have his friend film his girlfriend having sex, or indeed the children / sex toys! THIS offends them! (Actually, if it’s one case when the phrase “Hey, it’s THEIR choice” is appropriate it’s this one, if you ask me!!!) People were getting angry at any one who “liked” this news post, calling them “man-haters” and finding this to be really “offensive”, and “unfair” to the men (poor, poor rapists, and domestic abusers, having to live without victims!! What will become of them?) and were expressing their concern about these women who thought they must live very “boring” lives without men (because being abused, forced to marry at nine, or having your genitals being cut off, is such fun…) They were apparently not offended by the fact that these women and girls were living for God knows how long in constant fear, and their life reached such an extreme point of pain and desperation, that this was the only way they could get to feel safe, and they were offended by the “segregation” and how “unnatural” and “unfair” it was for men! (Because we can’t have men’s right to use violence against women be affected, right?) I have the feeling (in fact the certainty) that should the news of a community of lesbian women reached their social media newsfeed, the same people would shower it with “Likes” and a little too eager “Good for them” comments, and jump to express their joy, NOT necessarily because they are not homophobic (as in they wouldn’t mind if their daughter was lesbian), but because it is very, very cool to be seen as not being one. But the notion of heterosexual (!) women living by choice self-sufficient, independent and perfectly fine lives without men?(the untouchable taboo, the unreachable last frontier) Well, that’ s just going too far! That’s practically a blasphemy, and a threat to society (even a tribal one) and we just can’t have that! NOT ON OUR WATCH!!

In short, can we face it, that even though we like to believe that we are forward- thinking, and too cool for words when it comes to sex matters and gender roles and all that, we are not really, especially when it comes to the way we see women? And can we face it, that even though we like to think that the world has moved forward, because we appear to embrace new ideas about sex, or because we seem to be OK about “alternative” issues, in reality the world has actually become darker, creepier, nastier, scarier, more prejudiced, and in fact much, MUCH more sexist than 15-20 years ago? And isn’t it about time we acknowledge it, instead of being so damn concerned that if we do, we will be branded as close minded?

Instead of always worrying that we will not be perceived as cool on social media (or life) when it comes to sex, gender roles and how they relate to the prevailing “new ethics”, we need to stop and think: how come we are always so eager to adopt any idea that will make us feel like we are “progressive” and on the “right” side of issues, without pausing for a moment to contemplate about the complexities of a case, how it affects people’s lives, the consequences it will have on the next generation, and what are they REALLY about? I mean can we allow ourselves to get angry and horrified and appealed when the situation calls for it?

And can we just stop being such fucking “millennials” about everything already?

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First published: May 9, 2017

READ ALSO: “To my Generation, Part I”: http://wp.me/p7jQTY-sO

& “To my Generation, Part II”: http://wp.me/p7jQTY-tv

“Millennial Times” – Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorised use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications. 

ART by Fanitsa Petrou:  http://www.fanitsa-petrou.com



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To my Generation – Part II

To My Generation – Part II, 

(The things we’ve lost)

Art & words by Fanitsa Petrou

You wished you had a reason to wear leg warmers like the dancers in Fame, you were seriously traumatized by Mary Ingall’ s blindness in “Little House on the Prairie” (still are a little bit, if you are being honest…) … You had a crash on Alex (Michael J. Fox’ s character of Family Ties), and found “Pretty in Pink” to be more upsetting than funny, and “Say Anything” more sad than romantic. You probably loved Reminghton Steele and Moonlighting, for the will-they? won’ t they? angle, and the movie references, and Detective Morse, for the clever stories, the seedy-Oxford-academia angle, and the Britishness.

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So, this one goes out to my generation. You know that you belong to it, if the moment you read this line, you immediately thought “I wonder whatever happened to R.E.M?” because you started singing in your head “This one goes out to the one I love… Fiiire!” and then immediately after that, you went: “Boy, those were two very good songs!” (meaning of course The one I love and “Loosing my Religion) If this has happened to you, keep reading. If however the Who song came to mind, you are probably older, and you’ ve already been through a similar version of what follows, a couple of decades ago… On the other hand, if you have absolutely no idea who R.E.M (or Who for that matter) are, then you are too young and you probably won’t get half of what follows…

If you were born in the late 60s for example, it might mean that in 2016, you got upset over the deaths of David Bowie and Prince (for the music but let’ s face it, also, for the costumes), but you actually cried for George Michael’s death.Careless Whisper” being the soundtrack of your first crush damn it! For you, it was “personal”!

We were also around when Beyonce was still in Destiny’s Child, when Robbie Williams was still in Take That, when Mark Wahlberg was still Marky Mark, or when Kylie Minogue was a scrawny mechanic (Yes! a mechanic) with mad hair on the Australian soap Neighbours.

You also used floppy discs on your computer, and had to buy Cds in order to listen to music (still do to be frank…) Not to mention you were around the FIRST time Vinyl records, (and big glasses, high-waisted jeans and leggings) were cool. When TVs had no remote control, and you had to get up from your chair to change the volume, or the channel (or play some Tom-Sowyer-kind of trick on your siblings and have them do it for you…) You might even remember the time when there was only one (that’s ONE, young people) channel.

When having a phone machine was kind of cool, and choosing just the right “leave your message after the beep” wording, was something for which you gave a lot of thought.

Back when you would play a song on your cassette player or walkman, in order to memorize the words, pressing the “forward” and “backward” buttons a thousand times, writing in notebooks the lyrics, because you couldn’ t just Google them… Which also means that if you did not speak English very well, you would write the words phonetically, and still to this day sing those same songs in your own, pretty much made up hybrid language…

If you belong to my generation, you were also probably shocked, appalled, scared by Roots”, you had a crash on Alex, (Michael J Fox’ s character on Family Ties), you loved St Elmo’s Fire and Breakfast Club, and found Pretty in Pink and “16 Candles” to be more upsetting than funny, and “Say Anything” more sad than romantic. You wished you had a reason to wear leg warmers like the dancers in Fame, you were seriously traumatized by Mary Ingall’ s blindness in Little House on the Prairie (still are a little bit, if you are being honest…) and even if you were more like the bookish Mary, you identified with Laura, the plucky girl with the pigtails and the cute overbite, who idolised her father and would skip school to go fishing, and run up and down hills with Jack, the big hairy dog. You probably loved Reminghton Steele and Moonlighting, for the will-they? won’ t they? angle, and the movie references, and Detective Morse, for the clever stories, the seedy-Oxford-academia angle, and the Britishness, and were seriously taken with that iconic BBC adaptation of Jane Eyre with Timophy Dalton as Mr. Rochester. You were also beginning to be kind of obsessed with Seinfeld, which even then, you suspected that it was unlike anything else out there. It was also the reason why you still have a soft spot for that special brand of weird, twisted, neurotic sense of humor, so attached to Jewishness… And if you are from my neck of the woods, you’ ve also watched the 40’s themed drama Πανθέοι as a child, with a very young Δανδουλάκη, playing the tragic and beautiful Μάρμω, who made you think that it just might be Ok if you grew up to be tall after all…

You also were around when the funniest, the most intelligently written and original sitcoms and TV shows were created (Seinfeld, Roseanne, Northern Exposure, Cheers, Frasier, Will & Grace, Gilmore Girls, Curb your Enthusiasm, Firefly, Battlestar Galactica, House, The Wire, The West Wing, Black Adder, Spaced, Black Books, The IT Crowd, Psych, etc) All of them having a release date prior to 2007 which was apparently the cut-off point for networks to go for anything that was not part of the tsunami of crassness and gore that was to follow. NONE of the above shows would be allowed to make it today BTW! It was I guess a more innocent time, when good writing was not so obsessively attached to misogyny and violence, when TV was not aiming so blatantly at our baser instincts. When it was not all about forensics, vomit & fart jokes, on-screen masturbation scenes, medieval torture, bloody acts of violence, beheadings, and rapes!

You remember the time when the Internet was this exiting new thing, not yet attached to nastiness, pornography, Istagrammed photos of your salad, Facebook pretensions and sugary platitudes. When it was more of a somewhat limited source of info, rather than a way to feed your need for attention that is obviously not being fed in real life.

You were around, back when hip-hop was this amazingly exiting thing, (not at all obsessed with rape and massive behinds), and which gave us some sweet sweet tunes, which we could actually enjoy without feeling guilty, disgusted or outraged on account of the sexism, and the endless ass slapping references.

You were also around back when boys would give you mixed tapes with carefully chosen love songs, that would shyly (and quite effectively let me tell you), spell out they had a crush on you, instead of photos of their dick…

Back when pornography was the secret and utterly shameful pass-time activity of guys who couldn’ t get any sex in real life, than about women being tortured and violated in a number of disgusting ways that would make a serial killer blush, and the everyday (proud!) habit and personal obsession of countless men.

Back when if a guy would even hint on some S&M nonsense, and kindly offered to hit you recreationally, you immediately knew (with a certainty that was sharper than the Sun’ s light) that he was a sick, misogynistic weirdo, in urgent need of some serious therapy with a group of doctors working around the clock just for him. Plus, you know what? He knew it too! And BTW, saying so, was not seen as “shaming” HIM! Or as you being a prude…

You probably got teary eyed when the Berlin Wall fell, and got all hopeful about freedom, and human rights, and social change, and the glorious future of humanity, your hope lasting about a minute of course, because a year or so after that, the Gulf War was initiated, and it’ s been a downhill ever since… As if a cosmic clock (or possibly a time – bomb) started counting backwards on that very day, leading us gradually – and in retrospect, predictably – to the present-day mess…

Of course nothing says you’ ve aged, like realising how long it’s been since some of your favorite movies came out: it’ s been 28 years since When Harry Met Sally” was released for example, 30 years since “The Princess Bride”, 36 years since “Raiders of the Lost Ark”, 18 years since the first “Matrix” movie, 31 since “Stand by Me”, and 35 since “Blade Runner”

Similarly, even if you do keep up with what is out there in terms of pop culture and music and trends and all that, the music of your youth, is still the one closest to your heart, though it is slightly disconcerting to think how long ago it’ s been since you first heard it. You still think that Radiohead nova-exploded like a shinning, weird, (WEIRD!) star just a minute ago for example, yet it’ s been 24 years since “Pablo Honey” was released, and likewise, it’ s been 23 years since Nas recorded Illmatic, 33 since Bruce Springsteen released “Born in the USA”, and 22 since “Ghost of Tom Joad” (does this make any sense?) and 30 since U2s The Josuah Tree album was out! Similarly, Kurt Cobain still looks to your eyes like something you saw in a dream, (glorious and tragic and fragile, like the dying and resurrecting gods of all myths, and heart-breakingly beautiful, like Jesus in a Renaissance painting), yet it’ s been 26 whole years since Nirvana have recorded Nevermind, and this is a thought that somehow can not be contained in your brain. You also realize that if Kurt Cobain was still alive, he would be turning 50, and the idea is almost painful to you.

Speaking of idols and the shinning, glorious Sun-gods of your youth: you still can’ t believe that Chris Issak is 60! Given that you still haven’ t gotten over the “Wicked Game” black & white (tinted with blueish hues) Herb Ritts video (that Art Deco-like profile of his, his perfect torso emerging out of the waters, him kissing the beautiful and bare-breasted Helena Christensen, while ominous clouds are gathering above them) that you still find to be the most perfect thing you’ ve ever seen, and if you were to watch it again now, you bet that it would still make you wanna cry like a baby) He, is – as expected – smaller than the myth, as it turns out: he was a judge on the Australian X-factor last year, and boy was it a let-down. It’ s not that he aged (who hasn’ t?) or indeed that he still dresses like a flashy grooner / country singer from the 50’s, it’s just that he was rude and on occasion quite crass, with a completely dated machismo, exchanging words and insults with James Blunt (who as it turns out, is NOT the fragile, sensitive, ballad-singing dude you would expect) and it just wasn’ t right! And you were going in your head: “But… but… Wicked Game! And the Herb Ritts video… And the blueish hues! And.. and…No! No!, NOOO!”

And then Billy Idol, for whom you had a major crash as a school girl, is now 62 (what the hell, right?) Your crush on him has even led to having a crush on Spike, the English accented (fake but still effective), love-sick vampire from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, just because he seemed to be channeling him… And for that hair. Oh the hair!!! Not to mention Harrison Ford is 74. (Han Solo is 74. Indiana Jones is 74. Rick Deckard. 74! Damn!) And worse still, Mel Gibson is a racist with mad eyes. The lovable Dr Huxtable, a creepy serial rapist. Woody Allen, a pedophile who’s married to his adopted daughter. The always youthful Michael J Fox, is fighting a serious degenerating old man’s disease. Prince, is dead. Terence Trent d’Arby, (that wonderful, beautiful, weird dude) has seemed to have fallen off the face of the Earth. And the aforementioned rock god Billy Idol had actually released a Xmas album… (Are rock gods even allowed to do that?!)And Michael Jackson, well… where to begin…? Not to mention pretty-boy Chachi from Happy Days is now a sexist, chauvinistic, religious-freak / Trump-supporter nutcase….(What the hell has happened to the guys from your teenage room wall?)

And then Donald Trump who used to have 30 second-long cameos in eighties movies, being the caricature of the smug, arrogant rich guy, is now the leader of the free World, and apparently the proud owner of a very effective Time-machine that has turned the clock back to the fifties!

Incidentally, you still think “Private Investigations” by Dire Straits has the best lyrics ever (a  Noir / Raymond Chandler-like movie in a song) and not just the best guitar riff, and you also find that “I want You” by Elvis Costello, is one of the most honest love songs out there, if only for that line: “Oh no my darling, not with that clown” which still cracks you up each time you hear it…

And when you were a teenager, you probably read photo-romances with your girlfriends, which were like comic books for girls, with sequential photos, (usually of beautiful Italian models with names like Bruno and Alessandra) who were reenacting their predictable love stories on a weekly basis, leaving you pinning for love. (And for gorgeous Italian men in sports jackets…) Boys were reading “Blake” comics (anybody remembers those?) about superheroes and spacemen, and Native American chiefs, and spies, and aliens, and explorers who were having all kinds of adventures in this and other planets, and girls were reading about whether or not Claudio would propose to Frederica or not… (Hint: he would)

When you actually had to read books, and newspapers, and magazines, and see movies, and discover authors and bands and music genres “organically”… (One thing would lead you to the next… On and on…) And if you were interested in something, you would have to spend time and take classes, instead of downloading an app or watching a four-minute Youtube video, or you would have to buy tons of books and sit your ass and read about it, and be stuck in libraries and generally speaking, search for things on your own, (which also meant THINK things on your own too!), instead getting the bottom-line, as written by an unpaid Wikipedia intern, an Instagram “influencer” or a YouTube “celebrity”.

Likewise, it was a time when people would celebrate birthdays and anniversaries privately, by being with their loved ones, instead of feeling the need to make public, smug, written declarations of their love for them on social media, proving to complete strangers, that they do indeed have a life. And it is “perfect”!

When taking a photo of yourself was a little bit sad (not to mention tricky), because it meant that you had no one to take your photo. And it was also a sign that you were either lonely or something of a narcissist… And being one, was frowned upon, rather than celebrated and rewarded with “likes”…

Similarly, it was a time when you actually had to be a star of some kind, (a singer, an actor, an athlete, etc) and a successful one at that, in order to have reasons to pose in glamour photos, or videos of yourself. And these photos and videos, would be normally solicited by others (journalists, newspapers, magazines, TV channels, movie production companies, and the like) and aim at a specific audience: your fans… You just wouldn’ t go ahead and assume the world NEEDED to see you laying in your patio furniture in your Sunday best, sipping wine on a Thursday morning. Plus you would be embarrassed with the idea of having such photos being seen by strangers in a public way… And “being embarrassed” about certain things was still a thing… And it wasn’ t so bad. It kept you from being a complete ass. We kind of need more of it actually…

Also cameras were analogue. With flashes, and Zoom lenses and all kinds of extra thingies which you would attach manually. And with f-stops, and shutter speeds, and you had to calculate the correct ones. Using math! And films. Which you had to buy separately. And which you had to take to studios in order to have developed. In dark rooms. With chemicals and things. Meaning it was a whole do to… and it required a certain artistry too…

Back when you used to write on typewriters and word processors, before you moved on to computers, which were huge mighty, slow things (with gigantic separate hard discs) that would crash unexpectedly and eat up your documents on a regular basis, disappearing them in their virtual belly for ever, and there was nothing you could do about it….

You remember the time when fake nails were seen as kitsch, and a “thigh-gap” was not a thing (not a desirable one at least, plus we had a different name for it). Back when having the legs of transvestite who used to run track professionally was not one of your goals as a woman, and looking like you were probably suffering from anorexia, was still seen as a cause for concern for said person’ s physical, as well as mental health, rather than a valid life choice, and every modern woman’ s secret wish.

When women would dress to express a whollot of things, not just their state of constant sexual availability… When boho chic was favoured by artists, and yoga teachers, and free spirited and kinda flaky souls, and not accountants. When say an opera singer would dress differently than a bank clerk; a teacher differently than a lawyer; a doctor differently than a sales girl, etc ect. Because they were different people! And not all women were expected to be dressed like a lap dancer, or a bar-woman covering the late, late shift, when the heroin addicts, the pimps, the bikers with the crude prison tattoos, and the lowlifes with the shifty eyes who are carrying secret knives in their boots arrive… When women were seen as sexy even if they did not try so hard, or wear clothes that were 3 sizes too small (because men were not obsessed with porn!) or even when they wore flat shoes – which were in fact “allowed”. (Damn you “Sex and the City!”)

When girls would enjoy their childhood and teenage years – which by the way lasted a normal amount of time – without being obsessed with pink, and the princess cult, and seflies, and the need to expose every detail of their life (or body) on social media. A fact that sexualizes them from a very early age, and in a very particular manner, which renders them unable to find a real sense of self, and makes them be in constant need of validation, that is centered around their looks. A fact that therefore makes them vulnerable to anyone who feeds their narcissism and distorted sense of self…

Back when most boys knew more or less that certain boundaries were not to be crossed uninvited. And that such boundaries existed! (Because, again, they were not yet brainwashed by the misogyny of porn!)

You remember the time when it was still rude to talk on your phone when you were with friends, or a guest in someone else’ s house, and when it was unthinkable to talk loudly over the phone in public transportations, supermarkets, restaurants, or cafés, or even cinemas, without even considering that there are people around, and it is rude to be loud! Plus, you just didn’t want people to know your business. (Those were the pre-Facebook days of course, when having a sense of privacy was still a thing)

You were also around when Angelina Jolie was seen by everybody (seriously!) as a very troubled young woman, before she was practically overnight revered as the patron saint of the suffering souls, (kudos to the genius publicist who reversed all that so spectacularly!) And because of that, you probably always suspected that underneath the displays of virtuous fragility, and the Unisef-princess / refugee-feeding persona who is surrounded in airports by multicultural, unsmiling children, lies the earlier “blood-in-a-phial wearing / brother-kissing / self-mutilating / Billy-Bob-Thorton-is-my-vampire-lover” weirdness that preceded it, and which incidentally, has beaten the cuteness out of Brat Pitt… (because you just can’t get over that shit! Your narcissism can take a different form, but get over it? PLEASE!) Hint: yeah! Still TeamAniston all the way baby!

You also remember the (admittedly brief) time when pregnancy was not socially speaking “fetichized”, and was seen as a part of life, and also not a woman’s ONLY and supreme way of being fulfilled. Plus, it was her business and nobody else’s! (BTW I can’t wait till the TV serial based on Margaret Adwood’s “The Handmaid’s Tale” is out, it being so prophetic in its depiction of this women-are-breeding-cattle-phenomenon !) Plus it was actually OK to say that being pregnant is an overall pretty unpleasant experience by the way…) It was additionally NOT a fashion thing, attached to celebrities, and pregnant-belly-selfies, and yammie mommies (damn you Victoria Beckham) whose ultimate goal is above all, to be “instagram-worthy” throughout their pregnancy, looking like they are shoplifting a soccer ball underneath their XS designer dress.

Also, even without the Internet and its vast virtual and united market, and its promises of International economy, you remember the time when making money was for most of us a lot easier (and with less working hours), back when the middle classes were still around. Back when the world was not so scared…

These are some of the things we remember or have gone through, which we used to take for granted, and which predictably proved us wrong. A new world is always waiting around the corner, asking all of us to evolve, (and occasionally to devolve). Asking each new generation to find its voice, and each older generation to adjust, to learn new tricks, to reinvent itself, to move on, and alas, to leave things behind

In the meantime, we are still waiting for that hoverboard “Back to the Future” has promised us…

*

READ ALSO: “To my Generation, Part I”: http://wp.me/p7jQTY-sO

and “To my Generation, Part III”: https://wp.me/p7jQTY-ut

“To my generation” – Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorised use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications. 
http://www.fanitsa-petrou.com
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Posted in Feminist Posts, Funny Stuff, In English, Pop Culture | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Comments Off on To my Generation – Part II

To My Generation – Part I


To My Generation – Part I, 

(What it feels like)

Art & words by Fanitsa Petrou

You realise that people who are now in their twenties or even thirties, refer to the 90s in the same way you refer to the 60s! And it is a disturbing thought… Similarly you get annoyed (and a little bit insulted) when young people have “90’s parties”. As in “retro!” Or indeed dress in “Vintage clothes”, wearing the kind of things you’ve worn as a youth, and if you are being honest, can still be found at the back of your closet…

Time is a sneaky little bastard, and it creeps up on you, always catching you unawares. But if there’ s one thing we can say about it, is that you can depend on its punctual arrival. It is always waiting for you in your late forties. Hiding there in your “details”. In your knees and hands and neck and elbows. (The extremities never lie…) But mostly in your eyes, which even if they have been surgically altered to emulate a sort of surprised, waxy youthfulness, they can’ t really be freed from the look of someone who has been walking on this Earth for decades, having lived through pain and disappointment, and love, and fear, and loss, and the whole range of the human experience. Every tired look, every line telling a story and marking you for good. It’ s all there, in the details my friend, (the hypothetical Devil’ s evil playground…)

Ageing is admittedly a humbling experience, but thankfully, it happens to everyone. Yes, even to those who pretend to have been excluded from this inevitable, unavoidable, and alas, irreversible human condition. Personally I have never met anyone – woman or man, thin or fat, fit or a slop, with a botoxed, or a gravity-proving face – whose age I haven’ t guessed correctly. Give and take a year. It’ s my superpower. And given that praying on people’ s vanity is a classic money-maker, I could have a booth (or possibly a tent) in a circus, guessing people’ s ages for money, and make a nice little profit – provided they paid in advance of course… (“Hear ye! Hear ye! Come and have your age guessed! Dissatisfaction guaranteed!”)

Actually, there are certain things that predictably tend to happen to you in your late forties, as you see the big five-O, looming ominously in your horizon, like for example any of the following:

Even though more often than not, you will start your day feeling like you are still in your twenties, by night-time it will often be a different deal: I don’ t care how many hours of your life you’ ve spend doing Yoga or Pilates, touching your toes with your nose, or the back of your knees with your elbows, or whatever, you will eventually feel the irresistible need to groan as you collapse into a chair, a bed or as you are entering a bath tub. Making the same sort of noises that have always been identified with old age. And it will feel strangely satisfying too!

You also suddenly stop being able to name all the people under 30 in gossip magazines – a task that offered no difficulty just a few short months ago – and what more, you no longer fucking care who they are… You know: pop stars who look like they are twelve; young rappers who have been tricked by their stylists to wear fur hats in the middle of Summer; well-built actors playing in the latest comic book franchise; former child stars who seem to have grown overnight; fresh-faced ingenuous… (You also realize that it’ s probably no longer cute using words like “ingenuous”)

Right about that time of your life, you are also finding yourself  clicking more and more on links that offer health tips (9 out of 10 times involving turmeric, or hot lemon juice). You still don’ t go as far as actually doing the healthy thing (I mean that would be too much…) but you do save the links in your reading list. You know, just in case they are needed. Having the suspicion that they will be. And soon. Though you do start eating more salads all of a sudden (on purpose!) and appreciating herbal tea. Like it’ s important. Or like it actually has a taste…

When you go to weddings, you try very, VERY hard to resist the irresistible urge to shout to the bride: “Are you insane??? Whatever has possessed you? Have you thought this through? What is wrong with you? How desperate are you anyway???!!! I mean look at him!!!” while grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her hard. Or at the very least whisper in her ear: “Blink twice if you want me to arrange a get-away car…” 

You also finally realize (and are nearly ready to admit it) that travelling to off the beaten track places, is frankly not what is cracked up to be: waiting for hours in airport queues and eventually giving up and sitting on the floor, which you have the suspicion has not been cleaned for decades; living out of your suitcase for days; being lost in translation; feeling unsafe ALL the time; staying for days in crummy little rooms with no air conditioning and foul cooking smells; trying the local cuisine which as a rule results with you being bent over the toilet for the next four hours; taking buses and trains and taxis that have been apparently permanently branded with the world’ s worst B.O.; walking for hours in order to see the thing you saw in the brochure, which prompted you to take the whole trip in the first place, and which is of course closed by the time you get there… Hey, maybe the adventurer in you has never existed, or maybe she is officially dead after years of waiting for hours in badly ventilated airports. Can we just face it and move on? (Though admittedly, those open air bazaars with their ethnic, crafty goodies, will be for ever calling you, urging you to reluctantly board on new planes and ships and suffer new diarrhoeas…)

You also develop an inability to take bullshit from men, and if you never really possessed this handy, apparently all-important female quality, you find that you are becoming unable to go to any lengths to suppress it.

You realise that people who are now in their twenties or even thirties, refer to the 90s in the same way you refer to the 60s! And it is a disturbing thought… You can be happily singing along to some tune on the radio for example, which you think was a hit just a few short years ago, minding your business, and having a great time, and then the DJ comes on, saying some nonsense like “this is a blast from the past” or “this is an oldie from the 90s” (as in way WAAAAY back in prehistory when dinosaurs roamed the earth, or when people had scales) and you just wanna wring his neck….

Similarly you get annoyed (and a little bit insulted) when young people have “90’s parties”. As in retro!” Or indeed dress in “Vintage clothes”, wearing the kind of things you’ve worn as a youth, and if you are being honest, can still be found at the back of your closet… You also do realise that it’ s kind of natural, since the class that will be graduating high school this year, was actually born in 1999! (at the same time you were getting seriously worried about the 2K virus…) and it is a painful as well as perplexing thought. I mean you have T-shirts that are that old…

You also find yourself becoming more cautious with your dreams, which are now more of the “let ‘s hope things won’ t get any worse” than the “I bet things will get spectacularly better by next month!” variety. Cause you know, you’ ve lived through stuff. And the realisation has finally struck you: things do have the tendency of getting worse…

You start warming to the idea of naps. You don’ t go as far as actually taking naps mind you – because then maybe hell would freeze over – but for the first time in your life, you begin to understand why people go for them…

You don’ t give a rat’ s arse about your abs, though you do secretly wish you had taken a close up photo of them back when you actually had them, because they were spectacular God damn it!!! (If it’s one thing we can say about the younger generation, is that their youth will be well documented. Ours was not…) You also start to think that exercising – which is of course more needed now, than ever before – is the most boring thing imaginable, and a complete and monumental waste of time, of which you have less than you used to…

You also can’t wait for menopause to finally arrive, bringing her gifts of hot flashes and immunity to bullshit. You hear that it also stops you from having the irrepressible urge to feed people. (To cook for people who are perfectly capable of cooking for themselves. And then take it personally when they don’t finish their plate) Oh boy! That must be something! The drama averted! The time freed up!

Incidentally, you feel like there are just not enough hours in the day, and that if only you could squeeze three, maybe four more into your working day, it would be just grant.

You just stop being interested in meeting new people, as they tend to be the exact same people you already know, just with different names and faces. But otherwise the same, you know… Saying the exact same things to you, asking the exact same stupid questions, being annoying and rude and thoughtless and boring in the exact same manner… Which means you’ ve also pretty much stopped making new friends. Because who has the time to deal with a whole new bunch, right? Which might mean you will be stuck with the same group of misfits, untill you die: a handful of people with whom you can actually carry a conversation, some of whom you have come to consider your family, and then a whollot of other people who every time they open their mouth, they make you have dark thoughts about the future of humanity…

You also begin to realise (regardless of whether or not it is politically correct to say so: cute just does not go with maturity, and you begin to get seriously annoyed with adults dressed in juvenile fashion: grown women with grandchildren wearing cutesy tops with anime comics, emoticons, teddy bears, little rabbits and glitter hearts, or yoga pants with “Juicy” or “Taste it” written across their behinds (which – lets face it – prompts the question: “Really?”) Also everyday women embracing the “sex-worker chic” style: over the knee hooker boots, above the ass tattoos which are on a permanent display, high heels that go all the way to the front, which have always been associated with strip tease dancers, ect, ect.

You are also bothered by middle age men who think that wearing red jeans (or any colour that is not black or blue for that matter) is a good idea, and you start to believe (“believe” being the right word to express the intensity of that sentiment) that unless a guy is under thirty, (or unless he is Ewan McGregor), he should actually be forbidden by law to wear skinny jeans. 

You also start to feel very strongly about grown women having little flowers and miniature animals and zebra patterns and things painted on their nails (“when do they find this kind of time to have that done?” is another thing that perplexes you, and also, “WHY?!”). Plus you get literally outraged with anyone over twelve, doing the “heart” thing with their fingers. A gesture they usually accompany with the tilting of the head, the pounding of the lips and the closing of the eyes, to add that extra measure of vomit eliciting, sugary silliness, which makes your blood boil.

You also finally understand what your mum’ s seemingly life-long quest to find the “prefect bra” – that elusive thing – was all about… (She was right about that, and it pains you to say this, about a few other things too. Who knew?) The “prefect bra” becomes like a mythical thing, like Bigfoot, or the Loch Ness monster, or a comfortable stiletto shoe: you ‘ve heard about it, you saw blurry, grainy photos of it, you wanna believe with all your might that it exists, but frankly have never come across it. Yet, prompted by the same ardent zeal that forced all the great believers and explorers of the past to go out there, and discover new horizons, and new continents, and new unheard of planets, you hold on to your dream and you try bra, after bra, after bra, hoping that one day – just maybe – you will come across that perfect one that will not make you want to get out of it the minute you get home, crying “free at last!!!” while waving it in the air and scaring the dog.

Also, whenever you see a handsome young guy, you have stopped going in your head “Yammy!” and you more often than not, go “Awww, look at the little boy, thinking that he’s a man! That’s just adorable!” Or: “Oh, Look at how beautiful he is! I bet he was a very cute baby. I bet his mommy was very proud. And I bet he was a handful too. He musta given her hell! Poor woman. Cute babies are the worst! (Of course, as you are thinking of their baby photos, they might notice you and they might think: “Why is this lady looking at me like that? Is she a friend of my mum’s?”)

I guess that is why older men go for younger girls without a second thought, and are completely unbothered by the fact that just a few years ago they were kids basically… The creepy horny guy instinct, usually wins over all other instincts I guess, because they don’ t have that empathy chip, or that “parental chip” (not to mention the self-awareness chip) deeply implanted into their consciousness, that is guaranteed to cause you to see young people from the point of view of a potential parent…

You also realise that after forty, many of your girlfriends have substituted food with cigarettes or drink and possibly, pills  (which is another way of saying: have substituted everything that was good in them, with fear…) And whenever one of them asks you to go out on a Saturday night, you just wish with all your might, they would’ t. And then spend the entire week leading up to it, hoping you get a nasty cold, lumbago, the shingles, the bubonic plague, so that you can be justified to cancel. When Saturday morning comes, and your secret wish has not yet been granted, you shamelessly start hoping THEY will catch any of the above and they’ ll call to cancel. When that doesn’ t happen either, and you have no other choice but go out, you just sit there watching them drinking and chain-smoking and talking endlessly about their husband’ s cheating, or cheapness, or both, and going through the motions of eating without actually eating, dipping the same piece of bread into their sauce for hours without actually putting it in their mouths, because then, maybe the End of Days would be upon us, and you begin to wonder what has happened to them? And you know they think the same thing about you too, only difference being you refer to their soul, and they refer to your body… You also spend the entire time thinking to yourself: “I couldn’ t be listening to her going on about how horrible her husband is over the phone, while working on my computer, wearing my PJs and eating Chinese, without her watching me like she is both disgusted AND jealous by the sight of someone eating while being female?” You also begin to wonder what would happen if you ordered desert, and then go on and actually eat it in front of them? And would the sight of a middle-aged woman eating fresh cream cause them to spontaneously combust? What more, you are kind of tempted to find out…

But it is a pandemic among women these days: You also find for example, that more and more emaciated female supermarket cashiers of all ages (though the older ones are the worst, I guess because they’ ve been hungry – and therefore grumpy and irregular – for longer, possibly for decades) are attempting to shame you when you are buying ice cream or chocolates, by actually commenting on the fact – like it is any of the their damn business – or at the very least, giving you dirty looks. Do forgive them. It is after all, one of the few pleasures (possibly the only one) still permissible to the deprived of this world (the religious freaks, the always-on-a-diet poor souls, the sex-haters) to feel superior when faced with those who are not self-loathing enough, and therefore still able to seek and indeed feel pleasure from time to time.) You also find that it doesn’ t bother you one bit. Though you do get the occasional wicked urge to say to them in a really hash voice: “Oh honey! I know all your dark and shameful secrets. And what makes me eat, is not even comparable to what makes you unable to!” And then maybe spoon-feed them Häagen-Dazs pralines & creams, seeing them collapse from the unexpected waves of pleasure, which has totally been forgotten by their body and their soul…

And when it comes to music: there are probably 3 songs that you’ve probably never bought and which were probably never included in any of your playlists, and you would never CHOOSE to listen to, which however have the power to instantly transport you to your youth AND to make you feel utterly silly at the same time as they are 1) Very silly songs, and 2) they make you sing at the top of your lungs, like a possessed person, whenever you happen upon them on the radio. Especially while in a car. These songs are: a) “I’m gonna be (500 miles)” by the Proclaimers, (which of course you sing while having a go at a Scottish accent, head bobbing manically at the beat), b) “In the Jungle the lion sleeps tonight”  by the Tokens (you know the one I mean: “A-weema-weh, a-weema-weh, a-weema-weh, a-weema-weh / A-weema-weh, a-weema-weh, a-weema-weh, a-weema-weh / A-weema-weh, a-weema-weh, a-weema-weh, a-weema-weh / A-weema-weh, a-weema-weh, a-weema-weh, a-weema-weh….” and c) Down Under by Men at Work. And then there’s a fourth song, which is all of the above, and which however is possibly included in all of your playlists – not that you would go admiring it, of course. And this song/ultimate guilty pleasure, is none other than “The Total Eclipse of The Heart”.  (If you’ve never sang your heart out to it while having your eyes closed, it might mean that there is something wrong with you…)

If you belong to my generation, you also find tiny Ariana Grande’s choice to always be dressed like an underage nymphet to be frankly quite disturbing. And even though it’s horrible to say, you are bothered for some weird unexplained reason (that you suspect is related to your age more than anything else) by Ed Sheran’ s face (who is an otherwise exceptionally talented young man), and find ANY of the Coldplay hits to be catchy, yes, (in an elevator-music kind of way),  but with really boring lyrics, even though they sound all important and serious-like (possibly because Chris Martin plays piano and wears glasses and cardigans and looks like an almost cute nerd…) You probably also find it hard (tried as you might) to warm up to Florence and the Machine even though you  know you are not really supposed to say that out loud. (The same goes for Mumford & Sons BTWwhose songs you find to be indistinguishable, though again, you are well aware that you are not supposed to say so…) Plus you could bet good money that the pop stars who perform wearing masks covering their faces, are not really being avant-garde and making “brave” and “artistic” statements about how women are perceived etc. They are probably just self conscious about their looks. Which explains why after the nose jobs and the procedures, they suddenly throw away the masks. “Bravely”. (Proving the opposite point of the one they were supposed to prove…)

You also realise that when you were young you would have spent so much time obsessing about  James Bay  just because he is a Chris-in-Northen-Exposure artsy-looking type… And when you shamelessly Google his age, you discover that – of course – not only he wasn’t even born when you were young, but he was actually born in 1990 (1990! I ask you!  The very year Northern Exposure began. Which says it all…

You also tend to get seriously annoyed with how silly the lyrics in pop songs are these days (you also use the phrase “these days” a lot, all of a sudden) Like Justin Bieber’s song Baby” for example that goes:  “And I was like baby, baby, baby oh / Like baby, baby, baby no / Like baby, baby, baby oh / I thought you’d always be mine (mine) / Baby, baby, baby oh / Like baby, baby, baby no / Like baby, baby, baby ooh” On and on,

or the Rihanna song that goes: “Bitch better have my money! Bitch better have my money! Pay me what you owe me / Bitch better have my (bitch better have my) Bitch better have my (bitch better have my) Bitch better have my money!” both of which make you want to shout to the young person who is around you: “ENOUGH!”

(The minute you hear yourself shouting to teenagers to turn off their pop music, is of course the minute your ageing is officially signed and sealed, and the precise moment you realise that the days when you will become the equivalent of the old man shouting to youths to “get off his lawn” are not that far behind… 

Still, despite the above realisation, current pop music irks you. You know, songs that are kind of pointless, and seemingly manufactured by a hit machine, that is probably located somewhere in Sweden, that adds all the right ingredients to make a hit, and “having a soul” is never among those. Songs that make no sense and that make you wanna break the radio. (Also, incidentally you still make most of your music listening from radios instead of websites. Or from your i-pod which you still think is cool (even though it’ s been sixteen years since it was that…)

And then you realize that the lyrics of the pop songs of your own youth, were not that sophisticated either, and yet you still catch yourself singing along completely unbothered by the fact. (Because that’ s the thing about youth, isn’ t it? It makes everything seem better, prettier, cleverer, shinier, more fun, doesn’ t it?) I dare you not make embarrassing robotic moves for example, on the rare occasion the deep and thoughtful lyrics of: “Abra abracadabra / Abracadabra / Abracadabra / I wanna reach out and grab ya” are heard on your radio (I bet Trump really likes that one…) Or indeed any of the old Duran Duran songs (whose photos were plastered all over your teenage bedroom walls), like:

“Whyyyyy don’ t you use it? / Try-yy not to bruise it / Buy time don’t lose it / The reflex is an only child he’s waiting by the park / The reflex is in charge of finding treasure in the dark / And watching over lucky clover isn’t that bizarre / Every little thing the reflex does / Leaves you answered with a question mark / The reflex / The reflex / The reflex (flex, flex, flex) 

After all these years, you still don’ t know what the fuck “the reflex” is of course, but that doesn’ t stop you from singing along “flex, flex, flex” like a mad person whenever it’s on the radio, right?

Even Nirvana gave us some pretty bizarre (I bet drug-inspired) lyrics, like: “I feel stupid and contagious” (Well, it’s flu season, what do you expect?) or “Sell the kids for food / Weather changes moods / Spring is here again / Reproductive glands / Hey – he’s the one / Who likes all our pretty songs” (WHAT??)

The thing is, it’ s not the obscure bands, or the songs with the poetic lyrics, the folk singer/song-writers with the intimate renditions of their pain, or the tortured blues and soul artists that you go back to, when reminiscing your youth, you find. It is the light, pop songs with the catchy tunes and the silly lyrics. Maybe because those other genres are timeless, and as good now, as they were when they first came out, but pop leaves its mark on your memory in a different way, because it lasts for a minute, and only belongs to the time that bore it. Because of that, it always sounds out of date after a couple of years have gone by. It is therefore attached to specific memories, and can instantly take you back to that moment in time when you were listening or dancing to it, making you relive your past. Back to that time when you were skipping school because you broke your toe. Or when you had the most horrible haircut of your life. Or when a tall boy who smelled like cigarettes and bubble gum, kissed you in the car park, behind the school yard.

I mean the catchy tunes of early Madonna, or Cyndi Lauper, Tears for Fears, Bananarama, Spandau Ballet, the Bangles, Blondie, INXS, Wet Wet Wet, or the Spice Girls, did not exactly change the world, or spoke of great – or even insignificant – truths, but they do connect you with memories of youth, and they do get stuck in your head for days, and admittedly are guaranteed to lift your moods:

“I’ll tell you what I want, what I really, really want So tell me what you want, what you really, really want I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha)I wanna really, really, really wanna zigazig ah…”

Deep, right? Or the all-time Wham classic: “You put the boom-boom into my heart / You send my soul sky high when your lovin’ starts / Jitterbug into my brain / Goes a bang-bang-bang ’til my feet do the same”

…that makes you think “God! this is crap!” but by the time the refrain comes along, you just give up and close your eyes and go: “Wake me up before you go-go / Don’t leave me hanging on like a yo-yo / Wake me up before you go-go / I don’t want to miss it when you hit that hi-high, yeah-yeah!!…”

And when you were a kid, it was ABBA, and Boney M, and Bee Jees and Barry Manilow and Billy Joel, The Carpenters. You know, cheesy, corny, campy, silly, HAPPY music that belongs in a simpler world. The kind that makes you smile without knowing why. The kind that could still be prescribed as an anti-depressant…

But there is something else that happens to you as you get older: upon meeting with people from your past, who dominated your thoughts and your desires possibly for years, you are discovering that the hold they used to have on you, not only is not there, but it has been replaced with pity, with boredom, with “What the fuck was I thinking?”, and because of that, of course, also with guilt. Because you have betrayed them by getting over them. By “allowing” time to erase all trace of the power they used to have over you. By finally seeing them as strangers. While you are at the same time, still quite in love not with them , but with the person you hoped and still wish they were. And you also know that they probably go through a similar version of that too (Not in these complicated terms of course. But just on account of you not looking as good as you once did). And it is quite a significant moment when you realise what love is all about (a thing you create in your head, because you need to!) that sort of “sobers” you into finally becoming a “real” adult!

And finally, speaking of ageing: every once in a while – usually at the end of one of those 18hour-long working days –  you will look in the mirror expecting to see the leggy youth you used to be, and for the briefest of seconds, you will be at a loss, and you will wonder: “who is this lady in my bedroom, and why is she looking at me like that?” And then you will relax, as you will see your mum looking back at you… Don’ t worry, you are not going senile (not yet anyway…), you are just ageing. And possibly, turning into your mum. It happens. It’ s just life. This lady in the mirror by the way, is STILL you! She may not look exactly like you used to (and when it happens for the first time, it does take some getting used to, let me tell you), but she is still you! Hey, don’ t go betraying her by pretending you haven’ t noticed the changes, or by panicking and attempting to reverse the irreversible. Because you can’ t. No matter what your personal trainer, dietician or plastic surgeon will promise in exchange of a bucketload of your money. Don’t turn your life into a race to eliminate Time. For it is a formidable opponent. And fighting it tends to steal your soul…  Don’t fall into the popular female trap of making your fight against ageing your ONLY remaining goal.  Just be brave and go with it. It’ s just a part of the deal of being a human… Besides, all that is truly worthy in you, won’ t be affected. In fact, it will become quite improved.

So for the young women out there: ageing is not as scary, if you have not put all your eggs in the “I’m-young-and-pretty-and-won’t-you-please-PLEASE-like-me-for that?!” basket… Understand that you are more than your body parts! And what you truly are, doesn’t age. And those who TRULY love you, know it too! Find out who you are, find your bliss, find a purpose, find something worthy and good in you,  make a difference in someone’s life, (or even the world!) and be kind to yourself and others. So that you won’ t crumble underneath the “ruins” left by that first blow ageing will give you… And know also that it is those who have done something with their life that do not feel  smaller and less significant by ageing… 

And for all of you ladies who belong to my generation: hey, there’ s still some way to go before you’ ll start seeing your grandma staring back at you in the mirror. There’ s still some fire in your heart (or some “boom-boom” if you like). There’s still some fight in you. And you can still make some damage. So think about that, and cheer up.

And keep on dancing, because “I don’ t want to miss it when you hit that hi-high, yeah-yeaaaaaAAAH!!…”

*

READ ALSO: “To my Generation, Part II“: http://wp.me/p7jQTY-tv

and “Millennial Times” (To My Generation, Part III): https://wp.me/p7jQTY-ut

“To my generation” – Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorised use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications.

http://www.fanitsa-petrou.com

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Posted in In English | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Comments Off on To My Generation – Part I

Dear Men – Part II

Dear Men – Part II

by Fanitsa Petrou

…as the years go by, and you start feeling cheated (!) by the fact that she, like any human being ever to be born on this Earth, has aged, try to remember that so have YOU! ( Or do you think women don’ t mind old man ’s bits?…

*

Dear men, if you have a wandering eye (and lets face it, you probably have), at least have the decency to not allow it to wander in the presence of your spouse. She has been washing your dirty underwear for years. At least wait until she is out of the room for God-sakes!

Also, know that no matter how much you don’t want or wish it, your partner WILL eventually change. These changes may involve actual, human ageing. Also, possibly, a certain degree of increased bravery, an increased sense of self-worth, which will lead possibly to a luck of leniency, as well as an inability to lie when faced with bullshit, or what seems like a lifetime of bad / weird porn inspired sexual practices, which she pretended to go for – you know, for the “sake of the marriage” and all that – but no longer can. (Be warned)

Speaking of bullshit, even though you mum was probably willing to take your own, and on top of that has assured you that you are the best guy ever to be born, (the cleverest, handsomest, manliest of them all), you can’t really take it to the bank… Or expect every woman on the planet to agree with her.

And how about you stop sending dick selfies to women? How about you realise that you can only gross them out by doing that, and NOT turn them on? Because you know, they are not men, and they are not into headless, disembodied pieces of meat that are not attached to a person. Plus, the fact that you seem to think that your aroused dick which was undoubtedly brought to its current state by the watching of some nasty pornography is a welcome image on a woman’s phone screen as she goes about her day, is ludicrous, insulting and let’s face it, a little bit funny…. Plus, your certainty that even an image of your precious dick possess extraordinary magical powers that can make her orgasm from a distance (you know instead of feel angry, disgusted, insulted, or cause her to laugh out loud), says certain things about the limitations of your intellect and the limitations of your understanding of female nature that can only make her start feeling a little bit sorry for you. Which I bet was not what you were going for… In other words, she probably won’t say: “Wow, this guy is really something! A real class act! A real keeper! You don’t come by that every day! I mean he took the time,  probably thought about lighting and angle and things, spend a good three minutes watching porn and then chose me to send this to. Boy, does this make me feel special!!! I better get out of these clothes at once then!”

When you are in your girlfriend’ s home, (especially if you are still in the early, flirting stage when her judgement has not yet been blind-sighted by the possibility of a marriage proposal, and she can therefore still see you as who you are), try not to urinate all over everything when you go to the toilet. And put the toilet seat down for God-sakes! This alone can – sadly – put you in the “prince” category.

When it comes to first dates: know that “post-feminism” point you love-making, about “how come in this day and age with feminism and everything, men still have to pay for dinner on dates?” you have to forget that one too I’ m afraid, not just because her work is likely to be paid considerably less than yours, even if she is considerably more accomplished than you are, but also, on account of the fact that the whole “date experience” still costs (in money and otherwise) more to the woman than to the guy. Think about it for a minute: when a woman prepares for a date, she feels “obliged” to be pretty for you, (even if you are an unwashed, unemployed slop with a porn addiction, who lives with his mum, and has the social skills of a pimply, nerdy adolescent with serial killer tendencies), because lets fact it, if you are the type who complains about having to pay for a meal, then you are also the kind of type who believes he “deserves” to go out only with a pretty girl… So she will have her hair and nails done, she will go to beauty salons, she will exfoliate, hydrate, depilate, plug away, and have all kinds of excruciating painful waxes and procedures and medieval tortures that cost a fortune. Plus she will go and buy new outfits, including underwear – just in case you are indeed worth it – shoes, bags, all because she is made by society – and men like yourself – to feel inadequate  small and unworthy of love, unless she looks EXACTLY like the girls in magazines, and movies, and possibly, porn. She will also probably starve herself in the days leading up to the date, and then spent hours of preparation and agonising, and long phone conversations with her girlfriends and generally speaking spend a lot of money and mental energy before she sits on that chair looking into your eyes, hoping to have her feet being swept away, and her heart being stolen by the man of her dreams (which you are obviously not). While all you have to do, is drag your precious, sloppy, beer gutted, and chances are, probably unbathed self to the restaurant, thinking you deserve if not to be loved, then certainly to have some kind of sexual compensation for your trouble, just because you asked her out and she said yes, not to mentioned because you paid for her meal, right? Grow up why don’ t you?

And here is another reason why women are automatically turn off by a guy who doesn’ t pick the bill: No, it is not because they are all looking for a sponsor because they are all gold diggers who are “out to get you”. It is because even when they are not consciously aware of the fact, they all take it as a warning: life with a cheap man (who as a rule is also self-cantered, boring and conservative) is a living hell. And if you show your cheap-ness on the first date when you are supposed to be trying to impress her, they can only imagine what will follow… Plus, the guy who is careful with money, is very likely to also be selfish in bed… And that my friend takes the cake…

And by the way, how about you stop being offended when a woman fakes orgasm! She is not a manipulator. She is a victim. She is a woman who was hoping (much like you!) to get sexual and emotional gratification, and got none of that from her encounter with you. And instead of blaming you, or making demands that would possibly lead to her own satisfaction, or stopping you from pursuing yours, she let you continue, because let us face it, you were already on your way, (going to that angry place men go, so very often unaccompanied) and you wouldn’ t listen anyway… And on top of that, she even Meg Ryan-ed it, and put on a show for you, in order to spare your feelings and hide the fact that you could not satisfy her… In short, she practically allowed you to rape her: to use her body as if it was merely a piece of meat, as if her mind, heart, spirit, were not actually inhabiting it. And she even pretended that you were “great”, so that you would not feel bad about yourself, or diminish your own satisfaction in any way, shape or form! Because we live in world that tells her she in insignificant and only valuable to you as a set of body parts. (And YOU are offended?!)

Speaking of sex, contrary to popular beliefs about stamina and techniques you picked up from porn, playboy magazines, your male friends over beer, or Indian sex manuals, the very simple “trick” of actually understanding that it is not all about you, is the one thing that actually makes you a “good lover”… Also the understanding that she is a person, not a set of orifices. And if she is gagging, (actually gagging!) when you shove your dick in her mouth, it means, 1) that she is NOT having a good time, and 2) you are a horrible human being for not even considering stopping. If you are very keen on entering mouths or asses, how about you finally go and find a nice strapping fellow and have a go at it, given that he will actually enjoy it – instead of just pretend that he does. The first because he will (unlike your wife) demand that you reciprocate, and the second because he is actually equipped by Nature to enjoy it (given that a man’s G-spot – and NOT a woman’s) is actually located inside his arse) In short, not all the humiliating porn scenarios you have spend an ungodly time watching, are actually related to reality.

On the same note: please understand that you don’ t automatically deserve to have a woman love you, just because you are a man. And you can’ t expect a woman to want to have sex with you, just because you want it. (Yeah, it DOES bear repeating!) And when she does give you the time of day that does not automatically mean “you deserve it”. And also, she was not actually born in order to do that for as long as you need it.

Even though when you approach a woman you are more likely to just wanna have sex, the why she approaches you, is a riddle wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma that possibly eludes you and may or may not spell out: “I wanna have sex”. Or possibly “I just wanna get married and have a kid by next year…” Not everything is a given. So keep in mind that women will say yes to you, will take care of you, will go to bed with you. They may find you interesting / sexy / a good catch. They may or may not be in love with you. They may even do it because they want to. They may be desperate. They may be horny. They may be lonely. They may be hopeless romantics who have read far too many novels. They may have a low self-esteem. They may have major father issues. They may be getting over their ex. They may be pressured by society to be the girl who is “up for anything”. They may be pressured by society to land a husband. They may be yearning to have kids. They may just want to brag about a generic someone (anyone really) on their facebook posts. Or they may just want a chance to wear that killer wedding dress they saw in a magazine and have a party with flowers and off white chiffon ribbons flying in the wind. But unless you ACTUALLY get to know them, and like have actual conversations with them (which includes listening to them) you can’t really tell why they are with you…

Also, how about you stop expecting a woman to be impressed when you ask her father for her hand in marriage? You are not doing things the “right way” and you are not being “respectful” as you smugly like to think, you are being an anachronistic chauvinist, because guess what? She is not property to be passed from father to husband, from one “master” to the next, like cattle. Whether or not she wants to accept or refuse your proposal for marriage – an anachronism in itself, but let us not go there now – is up to her and only her.

Even though you possibly propose on account of that all-important to all guys “regular fuck”, which makes them despite their claims that marriage is an abomination, to get on their knees, holding expensive rings and making promises of ever-after to unsuspecting women, it doesn’t automatically mean you are entitled to it whenever you need it. Again, given that she is a human being, and not your store-bought sex robot…

Similarly, when you marry a woman it does NOT mean that you now own her various body parts (and admit it, you did think that, didn’ t you? And it WAS a big part of what made you ask her to marry you in the first place, wasn’ t it? In a “I now own her breasts / ass / vagina. They are mine. I can have them whenever I want, in any way I want!” kind of manner, right?). But alas my friend, her body is still her own. Given that this is not the Middle Ages – or the Middle East…  And she still has the right to offer it, or deny it, at her own discretion… Also keep in mind that said body parts are attached to a human being, with feelings and opinions and desires, and needs of its own, which may or may not always concise with yours. You don’t actually own her body and she is not your personal sex slave just because you asked her to marry you and because you have convinced yourself that if only you weren’ t married, then all the women of the world would fall at your feet? (hint: they wouldn’ t) Also, how about you stop thinking that by asking her (and therefore “forsaking all others”) you were doing her a supreme favour that should be forever paid with certain, let us say, unrequited sort of sexual acts on a regular basis, just because you feel like it, and women in porn seem to really, REALLY enjoy them (forgetting that they are sex workers, meaning they have the lowest sense of self-worth imaginable AND it is their actual job to pretend they enjoy it).

Also how about you don’t actually say to her when you propose that “she deserves it”, meaning to be married to you! Because you are the ultimate prize apparently… When you ask a woman to marry you, do keep in mind you are not doing her a favour. Especially since you are offering nothing but your precious self in the deal (BTW stop assuming that it is enough!), while she is loosing practically everything – though it will take years before she realises of course. Yes, you are both loosing your independence, but additionally, she is also loosing her name, her voice as a human being, her real identity, possibly her carreer  her real self, in more ways than you (or sadly, she) can possibly comprehend. The truth of the matter is that most of her options will forever disappear, and her world will suddenly become smaller, and her place in it predictably preordained. Despite what stand up comics, sitcoms, and every piece of popular culture written by men claim, she is more likely to adjust to your own way of life, than you are to hers. (Yes, even if you do take the garbage bin out every month or so) She is more likely to be made to feel obliged to fulfil your OWN needs (sexual, professional, social, culinary or laundry related) than you, hers. And if you are the sole provider of the household, you will feel entitled to demand that she meets your own needs, and she will be in turn made to feel like she owes you, and therefore comply, becoming smaller and smaller until she disappears. (Attempting to find her voice by giving elaborate dinner parties, or taking up art & crafts lessons, pilates or Self Help classes and becoming really passive aggressive, holding on to her tiny victories that prove she is not lost for ever) Despite her brave efforts to keep up appearances, her life becomes a series of compromises and daily indignities, and her freedom of choice is in actual fact, gone for ever (not that she would admit it publicly of course) And even if on the other hand, she is highly successful at her profession, she will (unlike yourself) be made to feel guilty for every hour she spends at work, and on top of that, she will STILL be expected to be a housekeeper, a cook, a nurse, a taxi driver, a mother and a private sex worker all in one, even when she doesn’t feel like it, when she comes home. And do it while wearing heels and make up, and a smile on her face, if she is a good little wife, right? Or else pay the price of feeling like she is “not making an effort”, or she is a bad wife because she “let herself go” or has put her career above her family, (which is commendable for a man but a mortal sin for a woman) or ignores her “duties” as a wife… She will probably eventually give up on most of her dreams, wasting her potential for ever, and she will be from then on, made to feel guilty for every minute she is not spending providing for someone else’s needs. She is also likely to be made to feel worthless for every passing year that leaves its mark on her, rendering her less “valuable” and worthy of your love, which is apparently directly related to her age and dress size, even though her own love for you is not expected to be in any way affected by your own age, or the girth of your stomach. All of the above, contrary to popular belief, make the whole marriage thing an overall bad deal for her.

Also, no matter how things were before you got married, once she will get married, she may not feel the need (well, unless you ordered her from a catalogue that is), to parade around in her black, lacy, Playboy-mansion-nighties and 6” stilettos, 24/7, just because you expected that she would, any more you are likely to start reading Jane Austen on a daily basis all of a sudden. Because she is not a sex robot or a porn star, and you are most definitely not a hero out of a novel or rom-com (written by a woman or a Jewish gay guy). Which is to say: you are probably not two meters tall , have the hair of a Nordic god, the abs of an Olympian, the mind of Nobel Laureate and the heart of a poet. Someone who writes love letters to her and saves puppies and orphans in his spare time, AND is dying to hear all about her day… You are both, you know… human beings and you are allowed to relax and be yourself in your own home. I mean she doesn’t ask you to walk around in your living room every day in a white Tuxedo, right?! Or ask that you spend half your day at the gym so that you will finally look like Thor, right?! So how about you stop pestering her, making her feel half an inch tall and unworthy of your love!  If she can live with it, try to return the favour… And those hardly there, black, synthetic, allergy inducing undies? They may have to be forgotten as well. On an everyday basis at least. You may even have to man up, and accept the possibility that there may even be some white cotton in your future. Can you deal with it? Do you have the balls for it? Take another minute to ponder on it if you must.

Speaking of undies: if she is the sort of woman who needs Valentine Day’ s declarations of your love for her (poor thing), how about you buy her a present that is actually for her, and not for you? Like something that she can actually use outside of the bedroom? Something that will say to her that you don’t see her only as an array of body parts and you are actually not THAT obsessed with the porn culture? Pretend if you must. She needs it so bad, she will actually buy it… It’s only once a year.

Remember that: 1) chances are, women are not exactly lining up hoping to get a glimpse of you naked, and 2) she too, has “forsaken” all others by marrying you. And given that her dreams of an ideal partner are far more complex than finding one “with good boobs”, her degree of compromise is on a completely different level, and therefore so is her commitment to you – and the countless ways with which she feels you daily disappoint her. And 3), as the years go by, and you start feeling cheated (!) by the fact that she, like any human being ever to be born on this Earth, has aged, try to remember that so have YOU! ( Or do you think women don’ t mind old man ’s bits? Plus, 4), she is probably doing your laundry for what seems an endless amount of years, and the cooking and general house keeping and general taking care of you and raising your kids and all that, even when she is working as many hours as you do, and she ought to get some respect for that at least. Yes, she did get her wedding day a thousand years ago, and she did finally got a sort of social approval that would otherwise be denied to her if she remained single, but you got a whole lot more than you think from her in all the years that followed that wedding day… And this is a fact that is actually proven by statistics: married men live longer and healthier lives than single men, while single women live longer and healthier lives that married women. (Ironic or what?) Which means that the extreme pressure put on single women by society to get married, is nothing compared with the stress married women feel by having a husband… Also, even though married men love complaining about losing their freedom, being constantly cared for by a woman who is sociologically conditioned to believe it is her duty and main purpose in life to do that, is one hell of a way to keep them healthy both mentally and physically. Now isn’t that interesting? (And a little bit sad?)

In short, marriage is not exactly a pic-nic for her either. It is probably as mind numbingly boring for her, as it is for you (plus full of thankless chores!) She is just better at pretending that’ s all. Because she was, sadly, groomed from an early age to believe that there isn ’t any other way of “ideal” life out-there for her. And on top of that, for her, marriage is an endless series of daily chores. So if for whatever reason you are both in it together, doing your concurrent sentences so to speak, how about you do it with a little dignity? How about you show her some respect and compassion, instead of anger, disappointment, contempt, bitterness, possibly violence, and whollot of cheating? And if that is not possible, why not leave? Don’ t waste any more of her years, given that no matter how old she is society says she hasn’ t got that many “good’ ones left?

Also, if you were there in the room with your wife when she was giving birth, how about you stop bragging about it? How about you realise that you were merely a witness to a miracle, NOT the actual miracle worker. Or the actual miracle.

And when the kid arrives, how about you stop expecting the world to congratulate, praise, admire you and be totally ecstatic over your wonderfulness each time you do something for your kid? Given that you ARE its father after all, and it IS your job! In short, be an actual parent to your child, not just a sperm donor. Be there for the bad days, the difficult, the boring, the exhausting days, and not just for the good, the easy, the proud ones. And understand that it is your duty, and not a matter of choice.

Also, how about you stop pestering your poor wife for sex as soon as she gives birth? And how about you stop playing the victim because her vagina (HERS!) – which you obviously consider to be your own property –  is not unchanged by having to push an entire human being out of it? She is the one who had to endure the pain of it by the way, and the involuntary peeing and the bleeding of oceans of blood, and the whole range of other unpleasantness that would you make you cry non-stop like a toddler, if you were to go through them yourself (well, if your reactions when you get the sniffles are anything to go by…)  How would you feel if you would have to pay a price in this whole baby-making business? How would you feel if  YOUR genitalia would receive something more than an orgasm in order to have a child? How would you feel for example, if your penis was sliced horizontally from the middle like a salad cucumber so that an actual human being would emerge screaming out of it? And how would you feel if your balls were crushed in a slamming door? Repeatedly. While strangers watched. Possibly holding cameras. Seems to me – if soccer players holding their hands religiously and fearfully over their precious packages are anything to go by – the pain you feel in that particular area, can be considerable, right? (I wouldn’t know. My ball breaking has always been metaphorical, see?…)  So how about a little bit of humanity. How about a little empathy. Imagine you are playing soccer, waiting for a direct free kick. If a flying soccer ball can put the fear of God into you, so is a penis when you’ve just given birth…

Speaking of babies: if you are ever in the position of having to push an entire human being out of your urethra, (or even your left nostril, I’m not picky), a human being which has been created in your insides that has limps and organs and bones and elbows and things, and which was being fed for months from your blood and which made you feel like you were living your own private version of any one of the “Alien” movies, plus you have started monthly bleeding ever since you were eleven, in order to be able to do that one day (and had to endure the whole unpleasant bloody monthly scenario for the bigger part of your adult life, even if you had no intention of having kids), then and ONLY then, will you be allowed, justified and legitimated to complain about your wife’ s “nagging” about her discomfort, weird food cravings or excruciating pain.

In the meantime, how about you stop watching the sports channel for 5 minutes and you go get her that pizza with the anchovies dipped in marmalade, sprinkled in cashew nuts and tiny pink marshmallows OK?

*

“Dear Men – Part II”: Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications.

Read also: “Dear Men, Part I”:  http://wp.me/p7jQTY-q7

and “Dear Women”: http://wp.me/s7jQTY-1588

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Posted in Feminist Posts, In English | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Comments Off on Dear Men – Part II

Dear Men – Part I

Dear Men – Part I

by Fanitsa Petrou

feminists, do not have “issues” with ALL men. Just the insensitive, small-minded, violent, abusive, with deeply ingrained misogynistic attitudes ones. And if you are getting angry by reading this, then it just might mean that you too are one of them my friend…

*

Dear men: stop being stuck in the Middle Ages! Which about sums it up.

But if I were to be specific: women regardless of the fact that they are not men, ARE in fact, human beings.  And they do not actually exist (no matter what your priest, or favourite porn say) solely in order to obey, honour or sexually gratify you, cook for you and have your kids. If you can manage to accept this, you are practically a feminist. (Congrats!)

Also, any woman who shows the female perspective of things, who does not agree with you, calls you on your bullshit, or doesn’ t feel the need to sooth your insecurities, boost your ego or cater to your needs (sexual and other) is not: 1) out to get you, or 2) having her period.

Likewise, stop catcalling women in the street. Don’ t get alarmed now, but women are not actually walking by you, because they fancy you. They have not waken up, had their breakfast and dressed in the morning in order to go to work, run errands, or take their kids to school, secretly hoping to meet you in the street. In fact they don’ t even know, or care that you exist. And you shouting obscenities to them, won’ t automatically make them want to have sex with you, or at the very least, strip for your pleasure, which is what your monkey brain is hoping for, right? You can however, be certain that they are being made to feel small and scared and threatened by your words (which I’ m going to assume is part of why you do it). Also, if they tell you to stop it, it doesn’ t mean they want to engage in a conversation with you that will eventually lead to some sort of scenario where they will end up naked. And if they don’ t react or tell you to stop it, it doesn’ t mean they enjoy it and want more of the same. It means they are scared that you might become aggressive. And possibly, dangerous. Because many other men in similar situations have done exactly that…

Similarly, stop asking random women to “Smile!” (what the hell is that for, by the way? Like a woman must be pleasant in a Stepford-wives-like manner at all times no matter what she goes through, so that she will be unthreatening and ready to go? Jesus!)

When you claim that women are “hormonal” because they are “having their periods” and for 3-6 days a month turn moody, snarky or impatient with you, do consider that you are hormonal 30 days a month, 12 months a year, and for the entirety of your life (minus 9-10 years). Meaning you basically make ALL decisions with your hormones. From catcalling women in the street, to declaring wars, pillaging villages, dropping bombs and causing genocides, or daily having all kinds of violent behaviours that are victimizing women and children, or being competitive in sports in a lets-see-some-blood sort of manner, or even being chivalrous towards a pretty young woman (because she HAS to be pretty and young to deserve your help, right?! Which means that even your politeness is the result of your hormones) And BTW, when a woman is “hormonal” she may “nag” about the hours you spend watching sports or playing video games, or for leaving a wet towel on the bathroom floor and be a real “bitch” about it, but when you are “hormonal” you may actually kill her… And that is kind of a big difference my friend!

Know also, that each woman you date for the first time, who is interested in you and possibly attracted to you, still has at least one “Oh-God-please-don’t-let-him-be-a rapist / murderer / sociopath / serial killer / weirdo” panicky moment while she sits there smiling, pretending she is interested in what you are saying, because it’ s just very VERY likely. Because that’s what statistics and her experience as a woman existing in the world assure her. And also, know that there will be a moment during the date when once she realises that you are probably not (because you never really know, right?) a rapist / murderer / sociopath / serial killer / weirdo, she will be very likely to feel so relieved and grateful, that she will say / do something she would not have said / done otherwise, just because she was sociologically conditioned to have low expectations from men. The mere fact that you have not raped / murdered her by the end of the night, already puts you in the “Wow! He is a real prince this one!” category. Which let’ s face, it’s kind of pathetic and the exact thing that has kept you (men) from evolving and escaping the aforementioned Middle Ages…

(Note to women: expect something more than someone who doesn’ t rape and/or murder you. Note to men: be something more than “at least I’ m not a rapist / murderer” – but at least be that for Godssakes!)

BTW, women are not “sluts” if they go to bed with you (nice opinion you have about your own self by the way!) and they are not “cold, sexless bitches” if they don’ t want to go to bed with you. They are not necessarily lesbians either. Just not into YOU.

On the same note: don’t respect women (as in avoid to use violence against them) because they are someone’ s mother, daughter, girlfriend, wife. Respect them because they are human beings!

Also, how come you are obsessed with women’ s breasts, possibly thinking about them more than about anything else in the entire Universe, spending an unhealthy amount of mental energy fantasising about them – from the minute you hit puberty till the day you die – going to places where you pay in order to catch a glimpse of them, and thinking it is perfectly Ok if half-naked women are serving you your lunch in ‘Hooter-like restaurants, but the minute you see a woman breastfeeding her baby, you are automatically disgusted and you want her to cover up or disappear, go to some dark corner and feed her child in shame, because you find the whole thing to be deeply disturbing and offensive to your “sensibilities”? Do you even begin to comprehend how fucked up that is? (Or how major are your Mother issues? Just asking.)

And women are not “crazy” because they think differently and you don’ t get them. They are not “ball breakers” if they disagree with you. And if they are intelligent and eloquent, they are not trying to outwit you on purpose (though it is often a bonus) and are not doing it in order to personally diminish you and bruise your Oh-so-fragile ego. They are simply being themselves, expressing – like men have been doing for thousands of years – an opinion that is not necessarily aligned with yours. (Try to understand that it is finally allowed! More or less…)

And if you are an older guy and you decide to go for a younger woman, how about you be original and admit that what you like about her is basically: “Her young body parts, her inexperience, her leniency, and how easily she can be impressed and therefore manipulated and controlled. But mostly, you know, her young body parts” And it’s OK, but how about you DON’ T actually say it’ s because she is an “old soul”. I mean, really!!)

(Note to women: if you are a young woman and you decide to go for an older guy, how about you be original and admit that what you like about him is basically: “the presents. And how deeply grateful he is. But mostly the presents”. And it’ s Ok, but how about you DON’ T actually say that it’ s because he is “young at heart…”)

BTW, be aware of the fact that the pretty women out there, don’ t exist in the world solely for your personal sexual gratification. And the ones you consider to be plain, still do have the  right to exist and walk on this Earth and go about their day, even though you don’t fancy them, and are in no use to you sexually….

And keep in mind: unless you look like Brad Pitt (and I don’ t mean in “Moneyball”, I mean in “The Mexican”!); and unless you look like George Clooney (and I don’ t mean in “The Descendant”, I mean in “Out of Sight!”); or like Chris Hemsworth (in… well, take your pick), then you don’ t have the right to believe that you actually deserve to only be with drop-dead-gorgeous women…

BTW, stop thinking that women don’ t prefer (given the choice) to have a relationship with a gorgeous tall guy with spectacular abs and an abundance of hair follicles. They have simply evolved emotionally and secretly understand that beauty is not necessarily the best thing they should be going for when searching for a life partner. Because more often than not, extraordinary beauty comes with vanity, silliness, selfishness, narcissism, shallowness, often even cruelty, with the extra bonus of a complete lack of humour and empathy. I mean great abs are created in gyms. And what woman in her right mind would want to be with a guy who spends every spare minute lifting things up and down (and then again up and down, for hours and hours on end…) while grunting in gyms? Granted, not many things can beat great abs or indeed great hair (yes, you have guessed right, we do care about hair), and a well-developed torso, but these things are sadly, usually attached to a horrible or boring human being. The same goes often for extraordinary-top-model types of women mind you: you can’t (and don’t) expect much from them in way of intelligence or empathy. But I will go ahead and guess that you need a couple of millennia more, in order to reach that conclusion and feel the need for more than a mindless doll. In the meantime, how about you DON’ T complain about being with a gorgeous woman who apparently is with you only for you money? How about you don’ t complain about her destructive habits, her cheating, narcissism, her spending, her silliness, her cruelty, her bitchiness, her greed, her whateverness? How about you continue to be grateful that she is still with you, both of you playing the corresponding roles you have chosen in this life?

You see you stop having the right to complain about “gold diggers”, and women who are with you because you are wealthy, or powerful, or famous, (or possibly simply have a job), the minute you use your money / power / status / fame, male privilege, in order to impress (or lure) exactly the sort of woman who can be impressed by that sort of thing. You have actually chosen her BECAUSE of that. In short, she is your type my friend, and you deserve each other! If you’ve done that, you are the sort of man who thinks he can buy the affection of a woman with gifts and jewellery, and she is the sort of woman who puts a man’ s money above all else, and so can actually be bought by guys like yourself. You have not chosen her on account of her integrity, intelligence, kindness, personality, or great conversational skills. You’ve chosen her on account of her various body parts and youth, but above all else, her willingness to exchange these with expensive gifts from guys like yourself, right? You are the sort of man who uses money to literally buy the affection (aka sexual favours) of pretty young girls, and she is the sort of girl who has been coached her entire life to be nothing more than a powerful man’ s toy, and who is therefore easily impressed by guys just like you. This was your arrangement, this was the type of relationship you had: you paid the bills, bought the jewellery and the expensive bags, and offered the seaside vacation, and spa days, and jacuzzi balconies, and Sea vistas or whatever, and she pretended to be impressed by you, tell you (with no sense of irony) you are “the best” and allowed you to fuck her in a number of unpleasant for her ways! That was your arrangement, why the hell are you complaining now?! When you have being buying her affection, or at least her lenience and her silence with gifts, and compliments and cash, why are you shocked when she wants more, or in the case of a divorce, expects compensation for having spent years with you? Ok, why sugarcoat it? The compensation is for having to have sex with you for all those years. Because you see when a woman is not actually in love, or attracted to you, sex becomes a chore! Or even a torment. And she was not actually in love, but just in need of you! You know, like you were too… What you had, was a transaction. A cold and heartless transaction you have initiated and controlled, and for which you wrote the rules and yes, because of that, also paid the bills! If you wanted to be loved for who you actually were – as opposed to how much money you are worth – you should have gone not for the beauty queen with the gigantic boobs and the low expectations, but for the type of women who take no shit from you, who have the kind of intelligence and healthy self esteem and understanding of life, which would allow them not be easily impressed by misogynistic machismo, money, power, or lets face it, the likes of you… So how about you pay those bills, and those alimonies and stop complaining about it? You not only deserve each other, you were practically made for each other…

On a somewhat similar note, prostitution is not your “male right”. In the exact same manner that slaves were not actually the property of their owners. Because slaves AND prostitutes are, you know, human beings. Even if you pay them (or in the case of slaves, offer them a plate of food) you still don’t get to have the moral right to take away their dignity, their humanity and their right to have a say in what is being done to them. Which is what you think you are entitled to, when you offer money to a hooker, or a stripper, or a trophy wife for that matter, right? When you reduce sex, (the ultimate act of intimacy and the most sacred of human interactions) into a transaction and an act of violence which purposely dehumanises your victim, turning her into an object you have bought, and can therefore use in any manner you want, you should at least have a clue that what you are doing is wrong, given that you are dealing with a human being…

And do keep in mind that the porn stars you love fantasising about, are actresses who are playing a role. Not to mention they are women with a dangerously low self-esteem, horrible childhoods, and dark abusive backgrounds who think they have no options left than living a life in which they are being publicly assaulted by men and pretend like they are having one hell of a time!  (Yes, even the ones who claim it is “their choice” and they feel “empowered” by the experience, cause as soon as they are out, they talk about the years of abuse and fear and humiliation they’ve experienced…) Let me spell it out for you in another manner: they were paid and occasionally blackmailed and enforced in order to pretend they like the things they seem to like, which would make any normal woman who still has a shred of dignity, a healthy self-esteem, and the freedom of choice to recoil with disgust – and NOT because she hates sex. Do you think it’s a coincidence that every piece of literature, every movie, or TV serial written or directed by serious female writers (those few who are allowed to be out there anyway) depicts women feeling disgust and outrage or discomfort at the very least  when they are being coerced by men to do the kind of things that porn stars seem to always find to be spectacularly enjoyable (their empty eyes – the eyes of a woman who is actually being raped – betraying their true feelings)? In short, take a hint already!

In prostitution, what you are actually paying to have, is the right to assault and humiliate another human being, to make it small and insignificant, and therefore easy to manipulate, control, use and abuse. And in the case of porn, what you are paying is the right to become a witness to the crime of a human being being assaulted and made small in front of your very eyes, having things done to her body (as well as her soul) that she would never have allowed if she was a free-willed individual with a voice, and the power to have control over her body, her spirit and her life. But I guess this is between you and your conscience, which I’ m going to assume that when it comes to such matters, it remains mostly silent. But when you expect or even demand from your wife to replicate the same sort of humiliations, and receive the same sort of assaults, and to do it with the same sort of enthusiasm as the sex “workers”, so that your own, always-hungry-for-victims-masculinity will be validated, don’ t expect your relationship to remain intact. Even if she obliges you; even if she does wear that dog collar you bought for her as a Valentine’s present, and does get on her knees and possibly bark like a fucking dog if that’s what you go for, because she has been groomed from an early age to think that she is insignificant unless she is seen as sexually worthy by a guy and in the manner that suits him, no questions asked, and because she is being daily brain-washed by the rape culture to happily become a victim in order to be “cool”, in order to get to “have” her man, in order to make him marry her and then to keep him, don’ t think that it has no consequences. When she plays the “porn” game, or the S&M game, or the one-sided sexual acts game, she is driven by her own low self-esteem, and the need to be seen as “hot”, “cool”, “up for anything” or in order to keep you from going to actual prostitutes, but you should however not expect her to continue to see you as a man who is of any actual consequence! By asking her to silence herself, to disappear, to become a piece of meat, to be nothing but random limps (mouth, ass, breasts, vagina – possibly in that order), random body parts that are no longer attached to an individual, you also become smaller to her own eyes, and there is no turning back from that… She may continue to oblige you for as long as she remains insecure, desperate, without options, or afraid of you, (or stupidly, immaturely in love with you), but secretly she no longer sees you as actually worthy of her love – let alone, her respect.

Also keep in mind: violence is not sexy, and NO! not all women are turn on by it. (You see some of us were actually loved by our parents… Some of us think we DO deserve better…) “No” means actually “NO!” Get it in your head. Plus (and who knew that this would be like an epidemic these days, and it would be necessary to clarify it?): when a woman is unconscious and you rape her, and she can’t technically say “NO”, she can’t say “Yes” either, and it is still rape, and if you don’t get that, you are the scum of the earth. In fact you are the scum that lives in the intestines of the scum of the scum of the Earth.

Also, guess what? Rape is not “hot”, like murder is not “fun”, and genocide is not an “amusing group activity”. Certainly, not for the victim, despite what all those porn stars you have religiously watched, who have been paid handsomely (or possibly co-erced brutally) in order to pretend it, made you believe. (Not that it matters to the rapist obviously…) In fact no matter what horrible things she will encounter in her entire life (war, disease, Natural disasters, homelessness) being raped will be a woman’ s single darkest life experience. This should tell you something. Which makes it not just a crime, but the worst, most disgusting form of violence, and the worst fear with which women from a very early age learn to live. You know that fear you too have, about going to prison and being cornered by a big hairy guy in the showers? Now imagine being made to feel like you caused it upon yourself, and it was not the big hairy guy’ s fault, but your own, for being so damn provocative and cute in your prison uniform and everything? Well, multiply that by a few thousands to understand what rape is for a woman. And realise that while you ending up in a prison and becoming the sex slave of a burly dude is kind of unlikely, any woman’ s worst fear is very VERY real, and faced in real life every day of her life: every time she goes out of her home (or stays at home); every time she is working alone in her office; every time she walks down an empty street, or a parking lot, or a beach; every time she travels on her own; every time she talks to a stranger (or for countless women, to a member of her family!); every time she gets into a taxi or an elevator; every time she goes out on a date, etc etc, because rape culture has convinced you guys that it is Ok. That it is permissible, that it is even your right…

Know also, that by obsessively watching porn, you systematically alter your soul, your nature, not just your perception of real, live women, (their bodies, their actual needs, their true natures) and there is no easy way out of that dark, creepy, nasty, misogynistic, inhumane place. If you have become a porn addict, you are daily getting in touch with a darker, more violent side of your male nature that has been left behind in some cave, countless thousands of years ago. By resurrecting that primal part of your archetypal male nature, you allow it to take over other aspects of your personality, which turn you into the worse version of yourself, and the world gradually into an increasingly more violent place – one porn addict at a time: ever since Internet porn took such a hold on men’ s lives, their perception of women (AND girls!!)  has been dramatically altered, and the relationships between the sexes took a weird violent turn. But above all, the world has become a more dangerous place for women and children. The signs are already there. Maybe there is no way back. But maybe fighting that old Neanderthal urge, will actually save the world from further darkness!

 

 

Know that being male in a civilised culture, does not need to be equated with being aggressive and abusive. And not being aggressive is not an indication that you are losing your grip on your heterosexuality (given that being gay is possibly still your worst fear) It only means that you are actually evolving as a human being. There is no need to “prove” that you are a man BTW. Not only because it’s a done deal, it cannot be undone, but because the ways chosen by guys who need to “proof” their masculinity are always ALWAYS victimizing women, girls, and other less powerful men. And there is enough of that in the world already! When you are a compassionate, kind, empathetic, thoughtful,  non-aggressive, decent individual, with integrity, accountability and a conscience, who will never victimise other people, you are STILL a man. In fact you are an evolved sort of man and the best kind out there!

In the meantime: Any woman who talks about violent behaviour, gun use, rape, human trafficking, sex tourism, pornography, harassment, sexual slavery, pedophilia, the pornification of women in the media, child marriages (of girls as young as seven years old with grown ass men in their forties. Or seventies), domestic violence, the rape culture, the realities of marriages that turn into prisons for women, or laws and religious practises that discriminate against, humiliate and victimize half of the Earth’ s population, or fathers who sexually abuse their daughters, or indeed war and genocides, in short any of the activities typically – like it or not – attached to the male gender, is not (surprisingly!) a man hater, but simply referring to ACTUAL facts and the everyday realities of countless  women and children! Which might mean that women’ s degree of love for men -given all the above – is actually spectacularly, miraculously, outrageously, stupidly, irrationally, inexplicably great! And you guys should work on actually becoming more deserving of it!

Finally, feminists, do not have “issues” with ALL men. Just the insensitive, small-minded, violent, abusive, with deeply ingrained misogynistic attitudes ones. And if you are getting angry by reading this, then it just might mean that you too are one of them my friend…


“Dear Men – Part I”: Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications.

Read also: 

“Dear Men”: http://www.fanitsa-petrou-blog.com/archives/1671(opens in a new tab)

“Dear Women” http://wp.me/s7jQTY-1588

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Posted in Feminist Posts, In English | Tagged , , , , , , , | Comments Off on Dear Men – Part I

Dear Women – Part I

And if you feel you must marry, do yourself a favour: have separate bathrooms. It might save your marriage. Not to mention your sanity.

Dear Women – Part I

Art & Words by Fanitsa Petrou

(Expectations, Fashion, Work, First Date, First Kiss, Love, Sex, The Right Guy)

*

Be strong, be outspoken, be fearless – the best kind of men will love you for it, and the worst kind of men will run away. Which can only mean good news!

Have dreams, ambitions, standards, expectations! Aspire to do something important, or brave, or useful, or even fun with your life that is not always centred around and limited to you finding (or keeping) a husband, being thin and not ageing. Be something more than that! Believe it that you have it in you!

When it comes to men, demand respect, not protection. Choose a partner, not someone to look after you. Because, you are not a kid. And he is not your father / boss / guardian / master.

Unless you are prepping for an operation, unless you are a child, or a porn star (or you are with a guy who wishes he was with a child or a porn star – which prompts the question, why the hell are YOU with him?), you will have some form of bush. And be fucking OK with it! In short: enough with the Brazilians already! Enough with waxing yourself raw so that a guy gets to live his porn-fantasy. (And BTW, realise that THIS is what it’s all about: porn “aesthetics”!) If you are a fully grown, sexually mature, self-assured, ADULT woman, don’ t be intimidated into identifying with the sex trade culture. Because it is degrading. And stupid. And possibly, draughty.

Being single is not a misfortune, any more than being married is an accomplishment. Being without options IS however a misfortune, and being able to make conscious decisions about your life IS an accomplishment!

Don’ t be afraid to be alone. Alone is not necessarily lonely. And alone is always, ALWAYS better than being miserable-but-in-a-relationship. Wretchedly unhappy but married. Bored-out-of-your-mind but not single. Not to mention is better than being unloved, used or abused.

Wearing high heels on special occasions is cool. Wearing them ALL the time, is a sign of feeling unloved, and a little bit desperate. Wearing those Lady Gaga-like ones in your everyday life, that make you look like you are walking on stilts, is just ridiculous. Wearing sneaker shoes with hidden high heels? Well, that’ s just sad…

Keep away from anyone who claims to have no vices. They are either telling the truth, and are therefore the most boring people you are likely to ever meet, or they are lying, and their vices are really dark, and weird, and creepy – possibly involving wearing masks of some kind…

Speaking of vices, remember that the best people got them! Though, if you take pills in order to function, you have given up on the right to bitch about women who drink. And if you drink, you have given up on the right to bitch about women who smoke. But if you smoke, you have totally given up on the right to bitch about women who eat! (Also, stop secretly thinking that lung cancer is preferable to fat!!) And BTW, if you are obsessed with exercising, and you feel literally guilty if a couple of days have gone by without doing your sit ups, you are also struggling as much as the rest of us… It’s just your obsession is masked as a “healthy lifestyle choice” and it is universally acknowledged as “normal”… (Hint: it’s not…)

If your guy cheats on you, stop blaming the other woman just because you can’ t face the fact that he betrayed you. He was not forced into going with her. Also, don’ t allow anyone to blame you for his own cheating!

Stop being defined by how others judge your looks. Stop feeling the need to always be validated by random guys for whom you have no feelings, lust or compatibility. BTW, a guy who compliments you, is not necessarily in love with you.  He is probably just a little horny. Stop being addicted to attention, because it makes you vulnerable to anyone who offers it. It tricks you into believing a guy is in love with you, and this in turn, can trick you into believing you are in love with him too. And before you know it, there go fifteen years of your life down the drain…

FASHION: Wear clothes you like, that make you feel like yourself, not clothes that you hope will catch a guy’s attention, so that the guy whose attention you will catch (if this is what you want, that is), will be someone with whom you are compatible…

Stop trying so hard! Stop showing all your “goods”  like you are putting on a show to random men at all times, what with those high-hills, and the fake nails, and the just-above-the-ass tattoos which along with your thong are permanently on display, and the barely there skirts, or your above-the-knees-boots like the kind favoured by Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman and which are aptly known as “hooker boots”  Unless you are really, REALLY keen on catching the attention of the special sort of guy who is frequenting strip tease bars and shady motels with girls named “Kitty” or “Glitter”. And by the why, NO! I’m not “shaming” you by saying this. I’m trying to hint on the reason why you always end up with the type of guy who treats you like dirt. But I’m above all,  trying to explain that you are not being “sexually emancipated” when you go around with half your boobs hanging out. You are on the contrary, becoming a walking advert for Patriarchy which has always seen women as nothing but bodies: asses, boobs, mouths, vaginas, and wombs! (Possibly in that order…) Say with your clothes – as much as with anything else, that you are more than that! That you are your opinions, and principles, and desires, and intelligence and abilities (and SURE! your sexuality too!) and a million things more. Send the message not to just men, but to the world, that you are more than your body! What can be more empowering?

WORK: See the other women as your sisters, not as your antagonists. Acknowledge and support other women in your workplace, instead of seeing them as a threat. Help them be and do better. You share more with them, than with your male go-workers, whose approval you are seeking at all costs, because you have identified male approval with a feeling of self-worth. Break the age-old vicious circle! Be the best you can be, because you can, not in order to be seen as worthy by a guy! This will in turn make you feel a camaraderie towards other women, instead of antagonism and you will lift each other up where you belong!

LOVE: When it comes to great, intense, life-changing love affairs, know that the first separation doesn’ t take. But know also, that you can never really go back.

Falling in love for a guy with whom you are not compatible, who is different from you in character, lifestyle, taste, life goals, politics, sense of humour, can be quite a turn on at first, but sooner or later you will be faced with the reality that you are living in different universes, and all the little quirks and idiosyncrasies that you used to find adorable and exiting at the beginning of the relationship, will soon be the first things that will get on your nerves…

Also, do keep it at the back of your mind: despite of what you’ve been told, taught and force-fed, love is not always enough…

FIRST DATE: When you go on a first date with a guy, take notice of the tell-tales: is he rude to waiters? Is he very particular about his food (always a big and grim warning!); is he a sloppy eater? (which might mean nothing, but lets face it, can be something of a deal breaker) Does he talk about himself for the entire time? Is he condescending and is “mansplaining” (trying to explain things to you, assuming you know nothing about anything, even when you specifically tell him that you do?) Does he spend the biggest part of the night looking at your boobs? – No ladies, it is NOT a compliment. It is a merely a sign that he sees you not an actual human being with thoughts and emotions and desires of your own, but merely as a collection of various body parts. Also it has nothing to do with him being in love with you either. He is just horny. And not necessarily for you, but for any female – or possibly blow up doll – who will have him. Unless this is what you are looking for from this encounter, which is OK, and in which case, you go ahead. But if you want something more than a casual sexual encounter, why not forward ahead, and skip the two miserable years it will take you to find the courage to spilt up with him, once you finally see that you are nothing but a sex providing service for him, and run now? Save yourself the misery and the time.

On the other hand, is he actually listening to you while you talk, and has actual, human responses to what you are saying? Is he kind or at least polite to the waiting staff, even if they screw up and doesn’ t look down the waitress’ s blouse for more than one fleeting moment? Is he a good tipper AND doesn’ t make a fuss about it? Is he making conversation, rather than pontificating? And is he interesting as a human being, talking about things other than himself? Ideally, things that YOU find to be interesting? Plus, do all the smells seem to be working? If yes, then he could be a keeper. But even then, hold your horses. Stop picturing yourself already in a wedding gown and as the mother of two babies and a Golden Retriever, just because you have finally found a guy who seems to be half descent – and therefore previously thought to be extinct. You just met him! Give it time.

Also when it comes to the matter of who pays the bill, here’ s the golden rule: if he is the sort of guy who treats you like you are his equal, then share the bill and insist on it. If however, he is the sort of guy who is an immature, misogynistic, man-child who claims to be a “feminist” only when the bill comes, and otherwise is unable to see you as his equal, or worse, thinks he deserves to have women buying him dinner because he is such a catch, then let the bastard pay. (And needless to say don’t go on a second date) Remember: if he is stingy with money, he is also stingy with emotions, and as a rule, selfish in bed. If he is reluctant to pay the bill and even worse, if he is making statements about how “feminists love equality but not when it comes to paying the bills” and the like, then he is an immature, selfish little prick (who is possibly also little-pricked), with whom you are better off without.

On the other hand, if he pays the bill and makes a fuss about it, like he is making you a favour, like it is some sort of a magnanimous manly act, worthy of adoration and applause, and possibly sexual  rewards, like he is the big man who is taking “care of you” by paying for a plate of a risotto (or let us be frank, probably a green salad with no dressing), then again, RUN! Run now, run hard, run fast. Because he is the kind of man who will treat you like his possession, who will feel entitled to control your life in every way imaginable, and he is one thread short of being a predator, and trust me, he is the last thing you need if you are a normal, independent type of woman, who is looking for a partner in life, not a jailer. In short, yes, the matter of the bill on that first date, says a lot about things to come. Beware!

FIRST KISS: Know that nothing will be as great as that first kiss. Even if he is the greatest guy you have ever met, and you are destined to have a great relationship that can survive a Sunday trip to IKEA and that it will end when one of you dies, or ideally, when you die on the same day in each other’s arms surrounded by kids and grandkids, it will still be a downhill after that, for the simple reason that no guy can actually live up to the fantasy a woman creates in her head on that moment when he leans in… No guy will be so great as that guy who prompted her into anticipation… For as long as your anticipation lasted, he was just perfect, just because you still haven’ t seen him as he is: a faulted human being (which BTW is what you are too…)

SEX: Sex changes things. There is no way around this. It doesn’t matter if you are with a guy with whom you are spookily compatible, who enjoys the same foods and movies and TV shows and books and sports as you; someone who is kind to your family and loves your friends and pets; someone who finishes your sentences, or has the same playlist on his i-pod, or someone you don’t want to kill after a trip to the mall, if the sex is bad, you will eventually split up. If it’ s so-so, you might not, but you will always have this sense that you are with the wrong person and there is someone else out there for you. And if it’s mind-blowing / continents-are-separating / planets-are-colliding / nova-explosions-are-occurring-great, you will do nothing else but that: it will eat up all other activities and aspects of the relationships – for a few months at least – and swallow you whole. Great sex even with a guy with whom you are totally, criminally incompatible (which is usually the case, Nature being such a manipulative bitch with a sick sense of humour…), will do the same too, mind you… Only difference being, there will always be an end looming in the sweaty horizon. And a bunch of regrets too…

Also, remember, a guy telling you “you look pretty”, or “I want you”, or even “will you marry me?”, should not be enough of a reason to make you endure any kind of weird sex thing he saw in a porn, which you frankly find to be degrading, one-sided, or simply gross. Keep in mind, just because you are not into what he’ s into, doesn’ t in fact make you “cold” or non-sexual, and he is not worth your time and you ought to leave if he makes you feel that. (And you should stop feeling the need to prove to men that you are indeed sexual and by that, ending up victimizing yourself) If you are not into having sex with him at all, or not in the manner that he wants, or are just not in the mood to perform some kind of sexual act of the unrequited variety, then just say so! Don’ t pretend to be into what he is into just to keep him, or in order to gain “points”. Stop aspiring to become any guy’ s personal porn star / sex slave. In short, don’ t “allow” him to use you, so that he’ ll think you are hot, or consider marrying you, and if he’ s your husband so that he won’ t leave you for another who is more willing to comply… Be an adult! Say what you want. Say what you hate. (You are in fact allowed this option you know!!) Because guess what? Unless you speak now, you will have a whole lifetime of servicing him ahead of you, and how is that a good prospect for you?

Women of pass generations were denied the right to have a saying in what was being done to them sexually by men – not to mention that these were men they did not even choose themselves! They were seen as nothing but bodies, and the property of their husbands. Being sexual themselves, or voicing their desires, made them whores to the eyes of men, and having a say in what was being done to them was literally unthinkable and equated with a sin, and occasionally, even punishable by law! Sadly, in a world where sexual ethics and aesthetics are being more and more defined by hardcore pornography, and more often than not, violence-oriented pop culture and rape culture, women are again finding themselves in pretty much the same situation: they are still being asked to be nothing but bodies and to happily and dutifully endure the same kind of unrequited, degrading or violent acts porn stars are forced to endure for a pay check.  They are still sadly afraid to voice their desires, not so that they won’ t be seen as whores, but so that they won’ t be seen as “cold” or not “cool” enough. How is that any different though, from what has been happening for generations? They still have no voice, they are still nothing but body parts, they are still being used, they are still compromising,  still pretending, still allowing men to use, abuse and victimize them. So that they ‘ll be seen as “hot” and “free-spirited”, and “sexy”, and “good sports”, and “up for anything”. But mostly, so that they’ ll have a chance of competing with the porn stars who took a permanent residence in their partner’ s head. But is it really worth it? And is he (the porn-addict “HE” who has no idea who you really are, or what you really need from life or in bed) really worth it? Think about it for a moment.

How about you take a different road? How about you stop feeling the need to prove that you are worthy of a man’ s attention or approval by servicing him, or allowing him to rape you (which is what is happening if he is doing something that you don’t want, and you just let him, because you are too scared, or too needy for his approval) or even hit you, or torture you in bed, because apparently being hit or tortured by a guy, is very VERY “hot” these days! (An entire generation of women is nowadays being brainwashed, and carefully groomed by pop culture and the porn industry – which are of course both controlled by men, and created for, and driven by male needs – into believing that violence, sadism, cruelty, torture, rape, humiliation are hot stuff! As a result, an entire generation of men is finally legitimized in hitting women “recreationally” and getting away with it!)

How about you become a TRULY free-spirited woman who claims her own right to feel love and pleasure in the manner that works for her too? How about you become a truly independent woman who doesn’ t give a fuck about how she will be seen by others? How about you become an actual adult individual, saying what you actually want and what you frankly hate? And how about you realise that if he can’ t handle it, then you are better off without him? Just release him. Let him go back to his computer monitor, and give yourself the chance to be with a guy who sees you as something more than just random body parts or his personal sex slave. (And do understand that you ARE in fact, more than that!)

For the same reason, don’t be induced by your porn-addict of a husband into doing sex tapes, or taking pole dancing, or strip-tease lessons. And stop claiming that you are doing it because it is “sexy”, “fun”, or because it is “a good cardio” or because it makes you feel “empowered”. Just be honest that you are doing it in order to compete with the sex “workers” with whom your spouse is obsessed. If you want sexy, how about you talk openly about what you like (or hate)  in bed so you will have an actual orgasm from time to time? And if you want a good cardio, take up jogging for God-sakes, and if you want to be empowered, read about Mary Wollstonecraft or Susan B. Anthony, or Andrea Dworkin, or better still, strive to become the highest-ranking person at your job,  be an activist, become active in politics, or actually dare to speak about misogyny, the porn culture and sexual discrimination, or indeed against marriage (Patriarchy’s main way of implementing its rules)  without feeling scared that you will be seen as a “sex-hater” or a “man-hater”! Just face the realities of your relationship bravely and release him, so that he can go in search of a real sex “worker” since he needs it that badly, and so that you will find someone who deserves you!

CHOOSING THE RIGHT GUY:  Know that no matter how much you want and wish it, or even work on it, your partner is not likely to change. (Either choose a guy you like, or learn to live with the guy with whom you ended up. Or divorce the bastard.)

Know that not all relationships end up – or should end up – in a wedding ceremony. Women – at least in the Western world – have finally reached a point when they can actually have choices in life, just because they can earn an income! Don’ t fall into that same old trap into which endless generations of women were forced to fall, just because they were given no other alternative than being a guy’ s wife, because they were not allowed to work, have their own money, homes, opinions, desires, dreams, or alternative sort of families.

Also, don’ t be with a guy who makes you feel like you are not good enough because you are no longer twenty years old, or a size 0. Don’ t be intimidated into changing how you look or feel about yourself, so that he will have his fantasy (that he is with a younger woman) and you will have your own (that you are with a guy who actually loves you)…

 Don’ t choose a partner just because you run out of options, or feel flattered by the attention he gives you. Don’ t choose someone who makes you deny who you are, or someone who is good “on paper” but for whom you have no feelings. Or desire. Don’ t settle just to say you too, are married. Don’ t be with a guy you hate, just to have kids (if you hate him as a man, how come you see him as a suitable father for your kids?) Don’ t get married just to have a wedding day. And don’ t get married, unless you fall in love AND are prone to compromising.

Ideally, choose a partner you are attracted to, someone you find to be interesting, and with whom you are sexually compatible, who makes you feel like it’s OK to be yourself, and if you are exceptionally lucky, someone who actually deserves your respect! Someone who has the same sense of right and wrong, and the same sense of humour as you, and generally speaking,  doesn’ t make you want to shoot yourself in the leg when he talks. These will make the bad days bearable, and the forgiving of the hard stuff, easier.

And if you feel you must marry him, do yourself a favour: have separate bathrooms. It might save your marriage. Not to mention your sanity.

********

“Dear Women – Part I”: Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications.

Read also: “Dear Men” http://wp.me/p7jQTY-q7

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Art by Fanitsa Petrou: http://www.fanitsa-petrou.com

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Posted in Feminist Posts, In English | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Comments Off on Dear Women – Part I

Stars Hollows Revisited – A GILMORE GIRLS Revival review

Stars Hollows Revisited

A Gilmore Girls Revival review 

gilmore-girls-lorelai-rory

 

Art & words by Fanitsa Petrou

It is a powerful ending, which brings tears to the eyes of all the fans of the series, and makes this journey worth taking. If only those  four words weren’t uttered a moment later… 

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In the Red Dwarf novels, the characters get addicted to a virtual reality game, which “allows” them to live in their ideal place from movies, books, or their imagination. The main character chooses Bedford Falls, the little town in which the “It’s a Wonderful Life” James Steward movie is set, but all of us Gilmore Girls fans, would no doubt go for Stars Hollows, the fictional town in Connecticut, with its quirky characters, its weird, made up festivals, and its abundance of Autumnal leaves.

When the Gilmore Girls revival was announced, we instantly found ourselves (via our well worn out DVDs) being transported to its square with the gazebo and Luke’s diner, and Al’s pancakes world, and the troubadour, and Kirk’s running about doing odd jobs that make no sense. It is a heartwarming world we have come to love, and being able to revisit it through the revival, was a completely unexpected delight for most of us. Gilmore Girls, was a series with the best “will they? / won’t they?” and the fastest, cleverest dialogue on Television, and some pretty spot on, as well as subtle observations about human nature, relationships, families and parenthood, ever seen on TV. Add to the mix the pop culture references, the likeable characters, the stellar cast, the humour and the fashion sense, and you have something quite unique.

The revival was supposed to offer closure for the characters, as imagined by the creator of the series Amy Sherman-Palladino, who was not given the chance to do that, as she exited on the sixth season, leaving us with a seventh (and last) season that felt different, if not disappointing. When the creative nous of Amy Sherman-Palladino was taken out of the equation, the fast talking dialogues with their “His-Girl-Friday”-kind-of-pace, and the obscure pop cultural references, and the quirky sense of humor, started to sound awkward, and even let us face it, kind of stupid. The revival was never thought likely to happen, because in TV land, much like in real life, no matter how much you want and wish it, you can never really go back… But an attempt was made, and so sets were recreated, beloved actors were asked to step into the fictional universe they left behind almost ten years ago, and fans were rejoiced and prompted into anticipation, which was particularly focused on those last four words which were always meant to end the series in the “proper” manner, as conjured up by its creator. So we dusted off our old DVDs, and rewatched the stories we have come to love for one more time, getting ready for the finale. (The REAL finale. The good finale!) The stories about the little sleepy town of Stars Hollows and its weird inhabitants, and the uptight and elegant grandmother Emily (Kelly Bishop), the serious grandfather Richard (Edward Herrmann), but above all, the charismatic, fast talking caffeine addict Lorelai (an exceptional Lauren Graham) and her bookworm daughter Rory (Alexis Bledel) who are more friends than mother and daughter, and the seemingly misanthropic diner owner Luke (Scott Patterson) who secretly has a heart of gold, and one hell of a crash on Lorelai; Sookie (Melissa McCarthy) the whimsical chef and best friend to Lorelai, and Dean, Jess and Logan, the three boys who captivated Rory’s heart through the years, dividing us into teamDean, teamJess or teamLogan… (After all, Gilmore Girls is for sentimental and – I’m gonna say it – emotionally intelligent girls, what Games of Thrones is for Millennials, or StarTrek is for Trekkies…) And so we watched our DVDs again, and we counted days, till finally the revival was upon us, making us dive into sweet nostalgia and also on occasion, leaving us perplexed, hungry for more, and even at times, quite mad!

Richard Gilmore’s death (who was played by Edward Herrmann who died recently) drives the plot of the revival it seems, prompting the characters into introspection and even evolution. Lorelai’s seemingly totally random attempt to go on a hiking trip on her own, in order to reenact the Wild book (given that in Luke’s words there would be “nothing else involved, no Music festival or Hello Kitty booth”), is an example of that, and it turned out to be a brilliant plot twist. Finding herself at a crossroads, she just feels the need to “go away”. And it is less out of character than we might think at first: she did after all look for a dramatic escape in a similar manner in the past, on the day before her wedding with Max, when she went on to have a road trip to “anywhere”, rather than face her own ambivalence about her need to be worshipped by a guy who buys her a thousand daisies, which was conflicted with her need to live her life as she pleased, no questions asked / no demands made (or painful confrontations with the mirror)

When she goes to the mountain she was supposed to be climbing, she is being faced not with the realization that her relationship with Luke is in trouble, as we are let to believe at first, but with her ambivalence about her feelings for her father: her grief for his passing, as well as her pain for the turbulent relationship she had with him. She finally finds healing by focusing on the good memories of him, (sparse as they are) and by sharing the most precious among them with her mother. By doing that, she is emerged out of it as an adult! That’s how we all do it, (this business of growing up, of becoming real adults) anyway: by letting go of the ropes that keep us tied to the hurt child in us. We all have, after all, our own private version of the kid who is playing hide and seek, hoping to be discovered by the parent who has forgotten all about it, and flew to a hypothetical “Croatia”… Like we all have the adolescent in us who was ridiculed and alone,  whose act of bravery or rebellion became the source of further pain. Lorelai here manages to heal that part of her heart, by remembering her dad’s better self. The versions of him she forgotten they existed, underneath the heavy layers of his authoritative nature and the years of disappointments and regrets. By remembering that one moment of kindness and fatherly love he expressed when she was hurting, she manages to reconstruct her father’ s image in her heart, and is therefore made able not just to heal her pain for his passing, but emerge out of it finally a “grown” woman. That is why she no longer needs to climb that mountain, do the “Wild” journey. She already had her epiphany, her moment of clarity and therefore her closure.

There are after all no perfect families out there. All families, if you look close enough, and long enough, are dysfunctional. (Some with more shouting, some with more pent-up, unexpressed pain) And all children are on some level hurt by their parents, and they in turn, eventually find themselves hurting their kids; and all parents are on some level disappointed by their kids, while still being hurt by their own parents… It’s the damn circle of life baby, as Lorelai herself would say… How we all deal with these turbulent feelings, how we manage to hold on to our love for our families despite of the pain and the regrets and the disappointments, is what makes us adults. And Lorelai does it here, in her own overdramatic way that involves buying a plane ticket, staying for a night in a shady motel, packing up what seems to be the equivalent of a year’s provisions, drinking wine from a box with a bunch of strangers, losing her permit, attempting to sweet-talk her way out a jam, and then resigning, surrendering, and by doing that, reaching her epiphany… She takes the long way to it, but she does arrive there

For those of you who think that the revival did not wrap up things up in a perfect bow, I kind think it did. The bow being not her wedding with Luke that followed soon after, but her reconciliation with her father’s memory, finding the inner strength to stop seeing him as the guy who rejected her for the entirety of her life (while he was by the way, more than lenient and generous with his love when it came to his granddaughter), and by focusing on the things that connected them, the – albeit – rare moments when he was not the stern patriarch who did everything by the book – the book whose pages she had spent her entire life tearing to pieces, the book she rejected and by doing that causing  herself to be rejected by him as well – but the loving father who took her by the hand when she was hurting, and bought her a bagel, and sat with her in a dark movie theatre, watching Grease on a school day, just because she needed it. She is here also finding closure and healing in terms of her relationship with her mother: when she has that thought, when she remembers this incident, she doesn’t call Luke, or Rory, or Sookie, but her mother. By offering this story to her mother, she not only restores her father’s memory in her own heart, she is also apologizing for that thoughtless blunter at the funeral. She is extending her hand, telling her she is still part of the family. That blunter at the funeral was in fact a classic Lorelai moment: a grown woman who still needs to prove that “this was a cold household, these were bad parents, all of you are more concerned with appearances instead of substance, and me, I’m different, I’m better. I feel things, and I’m hurt and I have legitimate reasons to be hurt, plus I’m a rule breaker, so now watch me break your rules. Watch me be rude at the reception after my father’’s funeral. Watch me be Lorelai!”. At that moment, she was still the kid tearing up her lacy white dress, or escaping out of the window to meet with a boyfriend just to spite her parents. She was still the hurt girl, wanting to twist that knife onto her own side a little deeper. But by finding the strength to reconnect mentally, spiritually with the good in her father’s heart, she eventually become a woman. Still hurt by her parents, but also, reconciled with her own pain. Facing the realities of her past bravely, instead of making them guide her every step, which was meant to lead her always, always, away from her ancestral home.

Later, Lorelai’s wish to expand the Inn with the help of her mother, who offers the money in exchange for two weeks in Summer and one at Xmas, which she and Luke will have to spend with her in her new beach home, brings to mind the first episode and it feels like the full circle is complete, but somehow the “you need money” now uttered repeatedly by Emily, does not sound like an accusation anymore (as it did when uttered by her father on that first episode of the series), and Emily’s demand to have Lorelai spend time with her, doesn’t seem like blackmail anymore, and Lorelai’s agreement to comply, finally has no bitter aftertaste. (Not a whollot anyway…)

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Her “mountain” epiphany also included her decision to marry Luke, and she does ask him (for the second time) to marry her, as soon as she returns home, and he gladly accepts after he gives her that heart warming, and full of angst “the-only-way-out-it’s-in-a-body-bag”-declaration-of-his-eternal-love speech, that I bet made every woman watching, reach for the tissue box. (He is one hell of a guy isn’t he? After all what else could he be being created by a woman’s mind?) Though admittedly, I fount it kind of annoying that sharing her life with the guy for so long, and going through what they have gone through, was not enough of a gesture, and a priest and a whole lot of flowers and pink fabric needed to be added, in order to make it legitimate and finally OK…. But this is a show that despite its subtle (and at times questionable) feministic sensibilities, has always seen marriage as the ultimate gesture, and the lack of it, a proof of failure, or a sign of trouble, what with the otherwise fiercely independent Lorelai of Season 6 having a complete meltdown on Lane’s wedding, and drunkenly declaring her fear that she might never get married like everybody else, or the Lorelai of season 7 breaking up with the reluctant to marry her Luke, with whom she was obviously in love, and right away getting married to Christopher, just because he WAS willing to marry her…

Rory on the other hand, is found at a different sort of crossroads, stranded, suspended as it were, between words. A child still trying to find comfort, a woman still struggling to find identity, a writer still searching for her own voice. She is apparently penniless, out of a job, out of a home, her possessions scattered in boxes from Lane’s home, to her mum’s, to her grandmother’ s. She even at some point returns to live with her mother, though she can’t even own up to the fact that she does, and on top of that, she day-drinks and has one-night stands and is also in a relationship with Paul, a man she obviously doesn’t love, care about, or even remember that he exists (why was this particular plot twist necessary I ask?!) and on top of that, cheats on him with Logan who incidentally happens to be engaged to be married with another woman…

This is the part of the story that upset the fans of the series the most I think. How come good-girl-Rory perfect-girl-Rory be a drifter, living “here and there”, unemployed, without goals, passion, or apparently morals? Having one-night-stands with a guy dressed as a Wookiee – of all things- while being in a relationship with the Paul guy (whom she obviously doesn’t even like, let alone love) AND the soon-to-be-married-to-another-woman-Logan? Being unprepared on job interviews, even though she obviously needs a job, then falling asleep while doing her job, being very inconsiderate when it comes to Paul, and infuriatingly condescending when it comes to Luke (who is the closest she ever had to a real father, BTW) behind his back, when he is so proud of her, that he actually reprinted his menus to include a copy of her only published article (surely the sweetest of gestures!) or indeed being dismissive to the principle of Chilton who offers her a job (when she has none at the time – not to mention is actually under qualified for it!) Or being utterly contemptuous towards the “Thirty-Something-Gang”, even though she IS in every way like them, namely both unemployed and back living at home. Her sense of privilege, obviously stealing away her sense of self awareness. The idea of sheltered, eager to please, hungry for approval, privileged Rory becoming a war correspondent, in manner of Christiane Amanpour, was never believable anyway, and the revival is telling us exactly why. 

Whatever happened to her, the fans of the series ask? Actually I find this to be perfectly in accordance with Rory ‘s character. And not just because she kissed Jess while dating Dean, (and Tristan the day she got separated from Dean) or has had sex with Dean, when he was a married man. (All indications of some pretty shabby coping mechanisms) This started way back: as she would get more and more close to her grandparents who worshipped her, and made her feel like she were the “Great White Hope”, the cleverest, most beautiful and accomplished girl in the entire world, donating whole Yale wings to her name, Rory, the bookish, shy, naive, doe-eyed Rory of the first episode, would gradually give way to a more complicated young woman with some serious issues lurking underneath her shinning surface. Rory, let us not forget, grew up under the shadow of a deeply charismatic and charming mum, who was a true original: intelligent, independent and quick-witted, adored by an entire town, who could sweet-talk her way out of any situation, and captivate the minds, (not just the bodies – always a much easier business) of any guy she wanted. Which means that by definition, Rory was always insecure and therefore susceptible to flattery and attention, and because of that, always in danger of losing her step. She was therefore easily manipulated by her grandparents who saw in her their final hope of having the “perfect” daughter they have always desired, and believed to have deserved: docile, appreciative, grateful, demure, respectful, eager to please them in exchange for social status and money, rather than rebel against them and throw it all in their face and on top of that, be pregnant at sixteen!

What led her into being a cheater and a drifter in the revival, started quite early actually, on that “meat market” party her grandparents threw for her, to which they invited only boys from rich families, in an effort to manipulate her into giving up Dean. Sadly, it did work: it took nothing but a designer dress, a tiara and a few compliments from rich young men for it to happen, didn’t it? As she went out to meet Dean, who was dutifully waiting for her outside her grandparent’ s mansion, along with a bunch of guys who were competing for her attention, it became obvious to the both of them I think, that he was not meant for her. And as she returned home in that limo laughing and happy (even though she just split up with Dean), a bunch of rich young men calling her from the car as she made her way to her house, with Lorelai watching with horror from behind the curtain, what was to follow was already “written”. Young Rory was captivated and even corrupted (how come you guys haven’t noticed it?) by the wealth and the overwhelming attention and the lifestyle of her grandparents’ s world, and was therefore more than ready to belong to it. She gradually became the kind of girl who thinks that “loosing ” her favourite tree under its shade she liked to read is a real tragedy! That is why Logan’s attention was more precious to her than Dean’s, or Jess’s, who by the way, both loved her more. Her need to have Logan’s love was more urgent, and her heartbreak when she didn’t have it, unsufferable, because like all insecure girls, it meant more to her not to be actually loved, but to be loved by a guy who had so much choice: who was rich and therefore could be with anyone. By choosing her, he validated her in manner that the average-Joe/small-town-boy-Dean, or the penniless-with-a-chip-on-his-shoulder-moody-unpredictable-Jess could not. And being the daughter of a charismatic mum (which means being insecure), being adored – along with her – by an entire community, and then being put on a very high pedestal by her grandparents, being gradually thrown into a new world of privilege and status, meant that she started to believe that she deserved to be worshipped, turning into a very entitled young lady. It also meant that for as long as she was unaware of her own self, the guy who would reject her, would have her heart for good. That is why she was crashed (not to mention surprised) when golden-boy / Sun hero-Logan was initially not smitten with her. And that is why she was impressed by his family and his home, even when they rejected her, while her need for Huntzberger senior’s approval never really diminished, even after she knew the kind of man he was. Even in the revival, she is STILL counting on his help! (and it is a testimony to Amy Sherman-Palladino ingenuity that we are never spoon-fed  these truths. We are not told that she is entitled, or insecure but it’s there in how she behaves…) 

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If Rory was indeed the self assured girl everybody thought she was, she would not have been crashed by Huntzberger senior’s rejection, go on a bender and end up in jail, and she also wouldn’t choose to live in the pool house, away from the mum who adored her but very rightly so, reprimand her severely about her bad choices. She wouldn’t have spend all that time not speaking to her mum, being pampered by her grandparents, betraying in this very special way Lorelai and the life she has created for the both of them at high costs, basking in the glory of being seen as “special” by her grandmother’ s DAR friends. Not to mention that for a supposedly shy and humble girl, she never missed a chance to take credit, and was always a little too happy to step into the spotlight – from Lane’s shower, to the DAR 40’s themed party- announcing to all that she was the one responsible for organizing them, which is always a sign of a deeply insecure person which in turn, makes all that is happening in the revival episodes to make perfect sense to us.

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If she were a girl with a healthy self-esteem, she would also have the good sense to see Logan for what he was: just a brat. A selfish and irresponsible, albeit charming young man, who cheated on her (and at the same time cheated another woman with her) just because he could, who was condescending, rude and even cruel when dealing with people who didn’t belong to his class (see: Jess, Marty etc), and who knew he could always get away with anything. (How telling is it, that when she asks him if there is anything in his home that he doesn’t want her to see – meaning that belongs to his other girl(s), he actually brags that he would never do that to her. He is OK with having relationships with other women but he draws the line at leaving clues around. And obviously sees that as a sign of him being considerate!)

It is no surprise that he ended up using her, because in her early thirties, she was still too weak, too insecure and hungry for his approval as much of his love, too eager to please him and prove she was worthy of his attention: she was still too eager to be seen as too “cool” to mind that things were not “serious” between them, even if it killed her. Being the “other woman” is after all a common tactic used by insecure women, whose floundering feelings of self-worth find comfort in the idea that a guy – preferably a rich guy – is betraying another woman for them, (forgetting that he is also betraying them with another woman…) As for the so-called closure of the book she is to write about the Gilmore Girls, it too is part of the same journey of the “lost girl” who is looking for solutions, not in herself, but in others. Who is trying to be seen as “worthy” instead of actually looking for worthy things. Even though there is beauty in the story-within-a-story “gimmick” , the book that is referential to the same story we are now watching, in terms of Rory’s evolution, this is a poor proof of it: she is again looking for greatness in the wrong places, looking for a way out of her bad predicament, by using her mother’ s story, who is understandably, again, feeling betrayed and reluctant to offer her approval of that, at least initially – (I loved the fact that Amy Sherman-Palladino had Lorelai have negative feelings about the book!) It is also a roundabout admission of defeat: she, who is supposed to be a great writer, cannot come up with new stories, and so has to claim her mother’s story, make it her own, in order to be seen as an individual at last: as a writer of some worth, and therefore as an independent adult. And even that, she couldn’t come up with it herself! Jess had to suggest it. Jess who has been a guiding voice whenever she is floundering, like when she was living in her grandparents’ s house, not going to school, proudly attending the DAR meetings, as if this was what she meant to do. He stepped in and prompted her to return back to Yale, and to the self she once was (or rather the self everybody believed she was). Here he is again, believing in her, offering solutions, and even though he claims not to have any feelings for her anymore, that full of longing look into her window, reveals that he was lying, turning us all into  “TeamJess” enthusiasts…

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Jess, sees her as she is, but also, as the best version of herself, as the woman she could become – and that’s all anyone of us could ever hope for really… This is how Luke sees Lorelai too: he knows about her shortcomings, her occasional selfishness (remember that priceless “Right back at you?!” when Jess and Rory had that accident?), he is infuriated about her seeming lack of rationality, her bad eating habits and her messiness and her whatever-ness, but the knowledge of her everyday, mundane self or her baser self, does not alter in any way his love for the idealised Lorelai: the intelligent, whimsical, loving, fast talking creature with the scarfs and the hats who is quick with the pop culture references and the witty banter, and whose heart is in the right place. Max, by the way, was the only one who while being mesmerizing by her larger than life persona (he did call her a “mythical creature” didn’t he?) he was actually able to cut through the layers of her charm and be quite frustrated by her narcissism (and all charismatic people can be narcissists). When he was infuriated for still not having the keys to her home one day before their wedding, and asked her to stop thinking only of herself, he was already dead to her heart. That is why she bolted hours before their wedding. How could she end up with someone who could not blindly adore her? (and who knew that she could be selfish? as in “human”!) Rory too had a similar moment with Logan, when she wrote that piece for a website that criticised rich people and was coldly reminded by him that she too was living rent-free in his luxurious apartment, taking advantage of all the privileges of his class. Lorelai would have bolted out with a storm and never look back, but Rory, the insecure, hungry-for-approval-Rory was hurt yes, but in the end it didn’t have lasting consequence on her relationship with him. Her need for validation, (not real love!), is in a nutshell the thing that keeps her from finding resolution to the great issues of her life, and leads here being still stuck to Logan and his world. In any case, Rory’s story is the one which is still open, her evolution and her closure still not at hand, which is in a way good news, as it gives us hope for new series…

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Interestingly enough, Emily is the character who is evolving the most here – even if it is hardly likely… After Richard’s death, having lost along with him also her acquitted role of the “society wife”, she seems to find a new purpose and a new self. We watch her too, being led to a symbolic adulthood, breaking the chains that kept her a prisoner to appearances and a life that was comfortable and well structured, but devoid of real substance or purpose. She starts the process by declattering her home from things that bring her “no joy”, throwing away most of her pricey possessions, and being dressed in jeans and a T-shirt while doing it, instead of in her immaculate elegant outfits (we would be less shocked if we were to watch her walking around in her living room naked, with nothing but a feathery boa and a cigar, mind you) – though in defense of her old self, she does still wear a string of pearls… Things escalate after that. She is for example cool with living with the whole family of her new Latina maid (played by the same actress who plays Gipsy, for some reason) – she, who would change maids daily, on account that they spoke too softly, scared too easily, didn’t know how to make a waldorf salad, or didn’t answer the door on the third doorbell! But it is particularly enjoyable to watch her turn into a kind of “Lorelai” herself, feeling bored with the banalities and the superficiality of the DAR meetings (which used to be not just the epicenter of her social calendar, but also the epitome of her existence), or getting up to eat a cookie not only just because she feels like it, even though it is not prescribed by the correct protocol which has always been the guidebook of her every move, but also – in manner of Lorelai – as an act of rebellion (and it is deeply satisfying watching her do it), or later exposing the hypocritical agenda of the DAR ladies to the trophy wife who is being interviewed to become a member. She also puts her stately home for sale, starts dating, and chooses to live with the noisy family of her maid in a smaller beach house in Nantucket, of all places. She even – one assumes – for the first time in her life, gets a job as a tour guide in a museum, scaring the visitors with bloody tales about whaling, and enjoying every minute of it.

As the series wraps up, and while we are watching Lorelai getting married to Luke, we also watch a casually dressed Emily kiss Richard’s portrait, and lovingly cover her sleeping maid and her maid’s child with blankets, take a lantern and head for the beach, where she sits on her white patio chair sipping her wine, smiling with content, obviously feeling finally at peace with how things are, with how life has turn out. It is a moment of great significance, that symbolizes the changes in Emily’s life in the best possible way. At the same time, back in Stars Hollow, Luke and Lorelai are finally sharing their first kiss as a married couple, while we hear “Reflecting Light”, the song that was playing at Liz’s wedding, when the two of them had that first dance together as anything other than friends, which made Lorelai gasp the next day, as she realizes she actually has feeling for him: “Luke can Waltz!!” It is a powerful ending, which brings tears to the eyes of all the fans of the series, and makes this journey worth taking. If only those final four words weren’t uttered a moment later…

On a completely different note, I personally loved the fact that none of the cast was visibly bottoxed, or surgically altered to the point of being unrecognisable – not counting Luke’s hair which looks suspiciously thicker (and blacker?), or Miss Patty’s dramatic weight loss. They all look good, and at the same time, exactly like people look, after 10 years have gone by: older in a “human” (instead of plastic) sort of manner, if you know what I mean. Which is pretty unusual these days, and on some level, it adds extra credibility to the series.

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Even though the revival offered some very satisfying conclusions, and some satisfying returns for a few of the supporting characters (namely Paris, Kirk and Taylor) it did follow some questionable paths as well. How come for example there was time for Kirk’s movie, or the (otherwise fun) musical (a mention ought to be made to the excellent Sutton Foster, and her heart-wrenching performance of the “Unbreakable” song!), or the whole Paul plot line,  or the absurdly long Death Brigade scenes (nevermind that they were beautifully directed or that they were cleverly referencing the Wizard of OZ or whatever), which would only made sense if these were “normal” episodes in a long new series with time on its side, and not the final (EVER!) four episodes, where old characters needed to be revisited, and loose ends needed to be tied? And how annoying was the whole surrogate thing? How bad is their relationship anyway, that they only get to talk about having kids NOW? Being cute and coy about such things in your thirties is one thing, continuing to do the same in your fifties is honestly kind of sad. Why was it necessary for new characters to be added in the mix, when we haven’t even catch up with most of the regulars? How come there were infuriatingly long and completely, utterly pointless scenes involving the British woman whose book Rory was supposed to write, and then didn’t, or with the three guys from the Death Brigade, who were more present in the revival than in the entirety of the 7 seasons (their only accomplishment, or point of interest still being that they buy things when drunk), but hardly any with Miss Patty or Babette, or a good, long, “proper” one with Jess, or Sookie or  Lane, instead of the couple of minutes they all got, for that matter? And how good is Michel at his job anyway, that Lorelai needs to buy an entire new property in order to keep him from leaving?? (though it IS gratifying to see that he is finally out of the closet!) I mean we only get to see him being mean to people… And how come Lane and Michel were present at Luke and Lorelai’s wedding, but NOT Sookie, who as we have seen a few scenes back, is finally back in town and still Lorelai’s best friend? It just doesn’t make much sense… Yes, when it came to Sookie, there were apparently scheduling conflicts, what with Melissa McCarthy’s stratospheric success and everything, but couldn’t they find a way for an extra minute of filming, just so the fans of the series would see the two beloved friends together in that significant moment, and by that, make them suspend their disbelief about Sookie’s departure from the Dragonfly Inn, Stars Hollows AND Lorelai’s life (she is doing WHAT now??) But above all, why, why, why THOSE four words:

Rory: “Mum?”

Lorelai: “Yeah?”

Rory: “I’m pregnant”.

And then nothing but the closing credits and the Carole King song “Where You Lead, I will follow…” finally being heard, and suddenly sounding kind of ironic to our ears. Such a plot twist at the final minute of the presumably final episode, makes no sense, not even in a Rory-is-now-Lorelai / This is-a-full-circle / She-too-will-be-a-single-mum-now / Logan-is-her-Christopher-and-Jess -will-be-her-Luke, kind of manner. Unless this is a teaser / cliffhanger for a new series. Otherwise those long-awaited four words, just destroyed the perfect ending that preceded them: Lorelai reaching a point of maturity by leaving the darkness of her childhood behind; the couple finally together in the manner dreamt of by the girl, and possibly hoped for by the boy, while flower petals are flying in the wind, and a significant for their story song is playing in the background and Emily finally finding peace in her heart and even empathy. Without these four words, this would have been one hell of an ending. On the other hand, if more is to come, these four words signify one hell of a beginning…

I guess we’ll have to wait and see. And I bet we WILL “follow”…


28 Nov. 2016. Stars Hollows Revisited – A Gilmore Girls revival review. Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications. 

Feel free to share on social media. Prints and products with the above portraits available for sale: https://society6.com/fanitsapetrou/collection/gilmore-girls-fans?curator=fanitsapetrou

    

    

 

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Posted in In English, Pop Culture, TV / Movie Reviews. | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Comments Off on Stars Hollows Revisited – A GILMORE GIRLS Revival review

The other GOLDEN TIME of TV

It’s Game of Thrones without the bloodshed, 

the incest and the misogyny. 

And with songs! 

The other golden time of TV 

 -Part 1-

 by Fanitsa Petrou

I watch a lot of TV while I’m working, which is fun. One of the perks of being an artist. That, and setting your own hours, working in your pyjamas, and being able to mentally multitask. The downside being, your multitasking mind may also be prone to conjuring up mental realities which are the equivalent of shady characters with handlebar mustaches, chewing on match sticks and mumbling incoherently, while bombs are exploding in the background, and kittens are crying in corners. On top of the lack of a steady income. So enough with the “I-too-wish-I-were-an-artist-and-watch-TV-all-day” already, OK?! Anyway, I work an ungodly amount of hours each day, which means I watch an ungodly amount of TV too. (And that’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it. What’s yours?)

They say this is the “golden time” of TV, and they usually refer to shows like Mad Men, Empire, this season’s WestWorld with its Auschwitz-like piles of naked bodies which I found to be deeply upsetting, and of course, Game of Thrones. You know, the so-called “gritty” shows. “Gritty” being code for graphic violence, post mortems, spilled guts, cruelty, on-screen rapes, “torture porn” and unapologetic sexism, wrapped up in the package of a glossy production. (Bless Ian McShane for saying what we were thinking all along: that Game of Thrones is nothing but “boobies and dragons!”) But there are real gems out there. Funny, creative, intelligent, artistic shows that are not necessarily obsessed with forensics, indignities, Medieval bloody acts of violence, or the weekly degradation of women (which in this day and age, it also makes them innovating). And there are also so many ways of watching TV right now – the least of which being on your TV… What with Internet and streaming, and downloads, and good old fashioned DVDs, you can keep up with all that is out there in TV land. I’m offering here a few suggestions – some current shows and some older ones – which deserve to be seen.

GALAVANT:

Game of Thrones without the bloodshed, the incest and the misogyny… 

Galavant, which only run for two seasons, is a kind of musical fairy-tale, set in some mythical medieval-like era. It’s like Once Upon a Time without the endless loops in the storylines, or Game of Thrones without the bloodshed, the incest and the misogyny… And with songs! What else do you want I ask you? It tells the story of Galavant (played by Joshua Sasse, who sings beautifully on top of looking great), a dashing knight who sets out on a heroic quest to save the love of his life Madalena, who was kidnapped by the evil King Richard – a bad idea as it turns out, as it costs him his kingdom (“never start a marriage with a kidnap” he advices us)

The stellar cast is supported by some pretty unexpected quest stars, (all of whom sing surprisingly well), such as tough guy Vinnie Jones, (known from the Guy Ritchie gangster movies) in the role of Gareth, the King’s friend and bodyguard; John Stamos as Galavander’s foe, the knight “Jean Hamm”; Ricky Gervais, as “Zanax the Magician” who due to some legal technicalities had to turn into a “spiritual guide”; Hugh Bonneville – Lord Grantham himself – as a silly, singing pirate who takes up gardening – sustainable of course – and who is having “time outs” when angry, and singalongs; and Kylie Minogue as the “Queen of the Enchanted Forest” (a kind of “Madam” in a gay bar, hidden in the woods). Nothing is what it seems at first: the once heroic knight is a broken man with a drinking problem who needs to reclaim his reputation – not to mention his abs. The young maiden-in-distress is actually a power-hungry evil bitch. Gareth, the king’s hetchman, turns out to be just a softy and King Richard himself, (played magnificently by Timothy Omundson – known for his role as the cold-fish, trigger-happy policeman of Psych), who is at first the villain of the piece, soon ends up needing hugs, exploring his softer side and having some serious existential agonies…

The series was created by screenwriter Dan Fogelman, (known for Crazy, Stupid, Love, Tangled, Cars, Last Vegas, as well as one of this season’s more interesting new drama series, Pitch), while the music was written by the legendary, award-winning composer Alan Irwin Menken, known for the scores of Little Shop of Horrors, Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, Pocahontas, Hercules, Enchanted, Tangled, etc. The songs which are playing homage to Greace, Les Miserables, jazz, hip-hop, and are referencing contemporary events, such as the Emmy awards and ratings, are fresh and catchy and pompous and just hilarious. Even though the show was cancelled in May, after just two short seasons, it is now being rediscovered by a new bunch of viewers after its release on Netflix last September, causing a lot of talk about a Broadway show and hopefully, a third Season! In any case, give it a chance. It’s funny, it’s fun, it’s star packed, and totally silly. It will make you smile, it will make you sing, it will chase your blues away. It might even make you forget that Trump is now the leader of the free World…

VEEP:

…funny in a sneaky, irreverent sort of manner…

Veep, which is a sort of americanized version of the critically acclaimed British series, The Thick of it, (both created by the mighty pen of Armando Iannucci) is about the senator Selina Meyer (played magnificently by Julia Louis-Dreyfus) who is called to serve as a Vice President of the United States, and who is then forced to endure all kinds of political indignities while keeping her eyes firmly on the presidency. Selina Meyer navigates the murky waters of American politics armed with some killer dresses, an unbridled ambition, a complete luck of beliefs, a mean spirit and a foul mouth. Ruthless and relentless in her pursuit of power, she is surrounded by an entourage of sycophants and useless acolytes, double crossing stuff members, shady White House operatives, venal political bloggers and speech writers with secret agendas of their own, who make her life difficult and her constant state of anger frankly, quite justified. It’s clever and funny in a sneaky, irreverent sort of manner, and packed with the best swear words, the cruelest one-liners and the most scathing putdowns outside of The Thick of it:

“You’re not even a man… you’re like an early draft of a man, where they just sketched out a giant mangled skeleton but they didn’t have time to add details, like pigment or self-respect.” 

 “She’s a lesbian, Mike. She’s not a werewolf. Though either one would explain why she never shaves her legs.”

 “The only thing Catherine ever finished was an entire ice cream cake.”

“Right now you are as toxic as a urinal cake in Gernobile”

“You guys, are we seriously gonna let the guy with the police sketch face of a rapist tell us what to do?”

 and the classic: “You’re as welcome here as a swastika shaped shit in a Synagogue.”

THE THICK OF IT:

...Think of Yes Minister with offensive language…

Speaking of the British series The Thick of it, (and the film In the Loop that followed the end of the series): It is a (partly-improvised) political comedy about the inner workings of British government officials. (Think of Yes Minister with offensive language). It is particularly centered around the day-to-day mountains of shit faced by the Scottish, foul-mouthed spin doctor Malcolm Tucker – that grand master of swearing – (a brilliant Peter Capaldi), who seems to be always on the verge of a massive aneurism. His dealings with scandals, cabinet reshufflings, and inept politicians, bring him on a permanent state of rage which he freely expresses with the most elaborate and long rants, and devastatingly perfect putdowns ever heard on TV:

“Well, half an hour ago you were in with a shot. This is half an hour hence! We’ve fucking time travelled, yes? We’re in a weird and wonderful world where everything is different! Maybe outside the polar ice caps have melted, maybe there’s fucking robots knocking about and Davina McCall’s the new pope. Maybe you can download rice!”

“This is the fucking Shawshank Redemption right, but with more tunneling through shit and no fucking redemption”

 “Laurel and fucking Hardy! Glad you could join us. Did you manage to get that piano up the stairs OK?”

“The guy is an epic fuck-up. He’s so dense that light bends around him.”

“It’s like asking a dog if it understands the concept of Norway.”

 “I reserve this level of anger for when I’m flying RyanAir”

 “You’re so back-bench, you’ve actually fucking fallen off. You’re out by the fucking bins where I put you.”

 “I’ve got a to-do list here that’s longer than a fucking Leonard Cohen song.”

 “Terri, when I want your advice, I’ll give you the special signal. Which is me being sectioned under the Mental Health Act.”

CRAZY EX – GIRLFRIEND:

…It’s Glee for grown ups, Into the woods without the ambivalence, High School Musical with sex references and songs about venerial deceases….

A young woman, the uptight high-achiever lawyer Rebecca Bunch, (played by the series creator Rachel Bloom), abandons her job at a high end New York law firm, to move to the small town of West Covina, California, just because this is where her high school sweet heart happens to be living, secretly hoping to make him fall in love with her again.

It’s a musical full of songs that don’t often rhyme but are a ton of fun. It’s Glee for grown ups, Into the woods without the ambivalence, High School Musical with sex references and songs about venereal deceases. Plus Rachel Bloom is a revelation! A star who shines with her singing and her vulnerability and the madness gleaming in her eyes, though it often becomes difficult to root for her character. Yet, even though she very quickly turns from a lovable, quirky, neurotic woman who is a little bit pathetic in her desperation to relive her past into a full blown stalker, you still want to return to the show, just for the songs and for her unmistakable star quality: she is not afraid to be vulnerable and funny at the expense of looking silly, or less than glamorous and just goes for the joke unapologetically, wholeheartedly, like all the great women comedians (from Carol Burnett and Lucy Ball) have done. The fact that she is not borderline anorexic, or has the abs of an Olympian, but is a woman of normal proportions, (which in TV and cinema, is code for being about six kilos fatter than the average actress), the kind that lives in the real world, but almost never on the screen, or who is obviously not constantly, painfully conscious of her body image (in manner of Amy Schumer for example) makes her even more lovable to our eyes. It also makes her, along with Mindy Kaling (of The Mindy Project), Melissa McCarthy (of the Mike and Molly show which wrapped up last year) and Katy Mixon of the new series American Housewife just one of four women of non anorexic proportions who were cast as the main characters in TV series in the last few years (you know, instead of as the sassy, loud, and sex-crazed best friends of the protagonist, who are usually dressed in whimsical red-and-white polka dots, or in bold animal prints, and who on top of being fat also belong in some kind of minority, so the producers of the show hit two politically correct stones at once) She sings with no sense of shame, and with tons of irony, lyrics such as these: “you are not that disgustingly fat” or “don’t mind me, I eat bagels after 8.p.m.”  She also dedicates a whole song to her big boobs. Not as in how sexy they are, but as in how it feels to have them: they are “just sacks of yellow fat” that make her unable to run real far”…

*

AMERICAN HOUSEWIFE:

“disfuctional family / fish-out of water”

Speaking of Katy Mixon’s American Housewife: it is a new sitcom that premiered in October, and which is centered around the life of stay-home mum Katie Otto, a loud, confident woman of “real” proportions (again, code for not being super thin) who loves her body but hates how she is being treated by the high maintenance, trophy wives of her suburban town, who are obsessed with their juice fasts and their exercise regimes and who attempt to fat shame her on a daily basis (Hint: the series was originally titled The Second Fattest Housewife in Westport) We may have seen it all before, but the tired “disfuctional family / fish-out of water” form is saved by the charm and charisma of Katy Mixon  who steals every scene.

LUTHER:

…that open trench coat permanently flapping in the wind…

Luther, is a BBC police procedural drama about an impulsive homicide detective from London, who deals with the kind of highly intelligent serial killers and psychopaths who seem to fascinate crime writers lately. John Luther is a man with a nasty temper himself, who has difficulty dealing with authority, and who is still painfully in love with his ex wife and forced to deal with loss again and again, and who occasionally feels an affinity with the psychopaths he goes after. (Speaking of whom, this show has an array of psychos who are directed in a manner that is so dark, so disturbing, so horrifyingly creepy, that even when they appear for a few seconds, and even when you don’t see the murders they commit on screen, it will still make you want to look under the bed with a flashlight, or at the very least, think twice before going to the dog park after hours…)

Idris Elba, who went on to become a Hollywood star after this (and possibly because of this), has managed to create a classic anti-hero here: his Luther is a cult figure, a true force of Nature: his charisma, his physicality, as well as his thoughtful, tortured silences; his old-fashioned code of ethics; his gentleness and his broken heart; his blacker-than-coal eyes, and that famous, graceful, panther-like walk of his, with that open trench coat permanently flapping in the wind, are quite effective, let me tell you…

SILICON VALLEY:

…weird and socially impaired, nerdy software developers…

The critically acclaimed Silicon Valley was created by Mike Judge (creator of the animated series Beavis and Butt-Head and writer / director of the now legendary cult film Office Space, and is loosely based on his experiences as a Silicon Valley engineer. Remember how good The Big Bang Theory was in that first season before it became yet another tired show about relationships? It is that good. Only better.

It is a sly, subtle comedy that follows the life of a group of weird and socially impaired Silicon Valley, nerdy software developers: the serious and adorably goofy – and as it turns out exceptionally unlucky – genious Richard Hendricks (Thomas Middleditch); the obnoxious Erlich Bachman (T.J. Miller) who has delusions of grandeur, and who owns the house (or in his words “innovation incubator”) in which they all live; the accidental millionaire Nelson ‘Big Head’ Bighetti (Josh Brener); the deadpan Satanist (yes, Satanist…) Bertram Gilfoyle (Martin Starr), who is in constant war with the insecure Dinesh Chugtai (Kumail Nanjiani); and the empathetic Donald ‘Jared’ Dunn (Zach Woods), who believes in them enough to give up his job in order to act as their business advisor, and who ultimately ends up being a kind of corporate refugee living in their garage. We watch them as they try to develop and market their innovating software, having all kinds of difficulties as they are forced to work with some very weird and narcistic tech CEOs.

Even though it is hilarious, this is a sitcom that’s more of a slow burner and follows an arc from the first episode of each season to the last: it’s more concerned with substance, rather than with nonstop zingers and one-liners, and stories that wrap up nicely by the end of each episode. It also seems to reflect the real world of tech in more ways than one: like in the case of those first episodes of The Big Bang Theory, the science and the jargo are actually real – flipped on their head for the sake of comedy. Plus, there is heart here, and thoughtfulness, and sly social observations and some of the most likable characters on TV, and you can’t help but root for them as they struggle against the odds again, and again, and again.

HORACE AND PETE:

..Think of Cheers on antidepressants…

Horace and Pete is a webepisode series written, directed, produced and even distributed (through his personal website and through emails) by Louis C.K.  On the surface, it follows the path of a sitcom but it’s more of an anti-sitcom really, which ends up going to some very disturbing places. But there is humor aplenty. Of the pitch black variety.

Louis C.K., is starring as Horace, and Steve Buscemi as his cousin, the schizophrenic Pete, doing his brilliant, understated-every-man routine. Jessica Lang, Edie Falco, Alan Alda, along with a butch of other comedians in smaller roles, make up the cast. Alan Alda in particular, in a role that would have “normally” gone to Alan Arkin (actually it was originally created for John Pesi who was not interested, before it was rejected also by Christopher Walker and Jack Nickolson) is a revelation here, as the grumpy, offensive, misanthrope, swearing-machine of an uncle. Horace and Pete, tells the story of a family bar that has been owned by generations of Horaces and Petes who pass it on to their sons, whom they also name Horace and Pete keeping the tradition in each generation. It  has a Eugene O’ Neel-play kind of bleakness to it. (If only Eugene O’ Neel-plays were a bit grimmer…) Think of Cheers on antidepressants: day-drinkers (which is code for alcoholics) talking about politics and wasting their life in bars, dysfunctional families, dark shameful secrets, suicides, abuse, regrets, loss, cancer and mental illness, are some of the fun topics with which it deals, but there is a quality in it that transforms the darkness into something shinning and artistic and heart-wrenchingly real. Not to mention, also quite funny.

The integrity of the show was saved by its creator’s decision to not sell it to a Network or Cable Channel (each episode was posted on his website, from where it could be bought and downloaded at a low price: https://louisck.net/show/horace-and-pete) By doing that, he was not forced to pander to advertisers, channel executives or even audiences, or follow a fixed and therefore marketable format (some episodes are 45 minutes, some 65 for example), and it shows! It is in fact the kind of series that you would expect to see on british TV, with its lack of laughing tracks, the slow pace, the still cameras, its mostly one-scene episodes, and the artistic choices that belong more on a theatrical stage than the small screen.

There is of course the usual and Oh-so-common storyline favored by over 45 male writers (and found in every single Woody Allen movie) of the young girl who not only falls in love with an older (make it much, MUCH older) man, but insists that she prefers an older man to any younger guy. Really? To ANY younger guy?? Like it is impossible to ever imagine it? Given the choice? Even when the older man is a heavily medicated mental patient who turns dangerous or suicidal when off his meds, and who sweeps the floor for a living, lives in a  tiny room above a bar, AND looks like Buchemi? (a great actor, but bless him, not exactly an Adonis). Even then? I’m not saying it’s not possible mind you, I’m saying is considerably less likely than all the men writers / comedians / directors / celebrities of any kind would have us believe. I’m saying enough with them constantly spoon-feeding audiences their personal fantasies as plausible realities already. They should at least have a shred of self-awareness so as to recognize that if it happens to them in real life, it only happens because they are famous and rich, and because certain girls are just desperate. (Or have some serious father complexes and a dangerously low self-esteem). Just sayin… This one goes even further mind you, and announces how she would hate to see a woman president and would rather be “governed” by a man. Ah well…

Despite its faults, Horace and Pete is quite an artistic achievement. Each episode is like a different play, or rather the whole 10 episodes read like a 10-act play. Episode 3 in particular, starring a devastatingly good Laurie Metcalf), feels like theatre the most. The kind where you are watching people having long monologues about deeply embarrassing stuff, and you want to shout to them from your seat: “OK, enough! Please don’t say anything else. I can’t bare to hear this. Someone better stop it now!” In that scene where we watch her share her most shameful secret with Louis C.K.’s character, his own genuine wonder as he is becoming a witness to the unfolding of the tremendous talent of this actress, is quite palpable. He is visibly mesmerized (one feels as a human being, not as an actor playing his role, or even as a writer who has written the words she is uttering) by the intensity and vulnerability and honesty of her performance, as much as we are, and watching him watch her in wonder, adds something quite rare to the realness of the piece.

Louis C.K.’s comedy anyway, is rooted in something empathetic. Even in his highly successful and hilarious stand up routines, filled with sly – and often, let us face it – crass social observations (as well as endless masturbation simulations which he honestly needs to rethink), you can sense the sadness of a thoughtful individual, and you can see the serious writer creeping in… If only he could rein in the creepiness factor that is, which is always there, in everything he does…

Give it a chance. It will make you laugh. It will make you cry. It will disturb you. It will upset you. But in a good way…

***

More, later.

In the meantime, I’m watching my Gilmore Girls DVDs (again!) counting down days ‘till the  revival… (There is nothing like a good “will they? won’t they?”, right?)

Stay tuned.


“The other golden time of TV -Part 1 ” –  Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications.

www.fanitsa-petrou.com



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TRUMP’s Familiar Brand of Sexism

“…How they hate them when they are “bitches” (say “No” to them); and how they loath them when they are “whores” (say “Yes” to them); how they despise them when they are “ball breakers” (intelligent, well educated, articulate and with opinions of their own); and how they can’t stand them when they are feminists (not good sports when it comes to rape jokes. Or actual rape…)”

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Trump’s Familiar Brand of Sexism

Art & words by Fanitsa Petrou

The world is holding its breath for the US presidential elections. We all constantly turn our eyes to the United States anyway. Even though its own citizens are largely unaware of what is going on in other countries, the rest of the world is fixated on it: its politics, its pop culture, and all that is relating to the interactions of social and economic factors.  Maybe it’s because it is an amalgamation of all races, all nations, each one of its citizens coming from somewhere else, carrying a part of the collective “us”. Maybe it’s because it is always a possibility for every person in the world, hoping to “make” it (the “American Dream”, that celebrated “pursuit of Happiness” of its Founding Fathers having been proven to be more relevant to Capitalism and greed rather than idealism after all) In any case, the US leads the way by the size of its market, as much as by its military might. It holds the keys and the power — not to mention the weapons — to change or destroy. To keep things as they are, to bring hope, or more fear.

Things are changing everywhere, but there is a common thread, a thing that is beginning to happen everywhere, in the East, the West, the Islam, the “New World’ which goes unnoticed: women are again being put in their place by Patriarchy, which in the midst of all this violence and fear, and social change, is once again, empowered: Women are again being told by men to just be pretty and behave. To sit silently and take it. They are again being reminded that they are nothing but bodies. And who better to amplify this message than the American Republican nominee for president? He is the man for the job all right! In fact, if he didn’t exist, this new era (and the Religious Right) would have to invent him! Besides, his entry into the political spotlight was a necessity born out of the fact that a woman (of all things!) has good chances of becoming the next American president and leader of the free World! And they can’t have that!

Trump embodies the kind of white male sexism and racism that have kept women and people of colour in their “place” for hundreds of years. And he didn’ t materialise out of the blue. The groundwork has been laid for his arrival. The Republican party candidates in the 2012 United States election cycle for example, were particularly concerned with matters of female sexuality (ironically, very much like the Moslem lawmakers they so love to hate!) Their views on rape, pregnancy, contraception, and abortion especially after rape, sound to our ears like Islamic aphorisms, and Biblical utterances coming out of the mouth of angry misogynist Patriarchs belonging in the Iron Age. One fine example was the Republican U.S. Senate candidate Representative Todd Akin, who claimed that pregnancy rarely occurs as a result of what he called “legitimate rape.” His claims are of course a lot of nonsense according to medical science, and quite obvious to any one with a common sense, a shred of dignity and half a brain.

This controversy has opened the floodgates and has initiated what has come to be known as the “War on Women”: the conscious and deliberate effort made by the Republican Party to affect legislation and policies that concern any aspect of womens’ s lives, like the prosecution of criminal violence and workplace discrimination against them, but especially the reproductive health services provided to them, (like birth control and the “correct” definition of rape for the purpose of the public funding of abortion – Incidentally according to studies, over 32,000 pregnancies are caused in the United States each year as a result of rape of women aged between 12–45!) Is it any wonder that a man like Trump, is chosen now to “finish” the job they have started? Is it any wonder that the members of the Republican Party hear how he talks about women and are not outraged, shocked, appalled, disgusted like the rest of us, but instead STILL supportive of his candidacy?

It is a good time to be a sexist (and a racist) obviously! The sexism and misogyny that was obviously laying dormant inside the hearts of all those men who were keeping their mouths shut (at least publicly), is now finding expression and justification in Donald Trump. Donald Trump, who habitually and publicly rates women on account of their looks, age and weight; who calls them “pieces of ass”, “dogs”, “gold diggers”, “bimbos”, “fat ugly bitches” or “Miss piggies”, “disgusting” or “crazy” because they are menstruating (see: journalist Megyn Kelly)! Incidentally, on his reality show the “Apprentice” (and Americans need to be daily reminded  of the fact that a reality show star is actually running for a leader of the free World!), he suggested he would love to see a contestant “drop on her knees” to perform oral sex; while he justified sex assaults as a natural result of cohabitation between men and women; he was reported saying that he finds pregnancy to be “an inconvenience” to employers, and breastfeeding to be “disgusting”. He was also caught saying that the then 12-year-old Paris Hilton was ‘attractive’, and on another occasion, when he met a 10-year old girl, said he would be “dating her in ten years”. He was also recorded saying to a 14-year old that he would be dating her in two years (that is when she would be 16…) Not to mention that he once said that if Ivanka weren’ t his daughter, he would be dating her! He went on to talk about the size of her breasts, and on one occasion, he agreed with Howard Stern’s comments that his daughter is indeed a “hot piece of ass”. He also seems to never miss the chance to talk about his penis on political rallies…

Additionally, when Trump was the owner of the Miss Universe and the Miss Teen USA beauty pageants, he abused his authority and bragged that he would be sneaking unannounced in the dressing rooms to catch a look of the girls (teenagers!) naked, saying to them he was “allowed to inspect” them. When some of the girls were outraged he just told them” “Don’t worry ladies, I’ve seen it all before.” And that would make it apparently OK. He also expressed his annoyance that emphasis was being given on the fact that some  of the women who had once participated in his beauty pageants, have gone on to become doctors, and was in agreement with Howard Stern (another fine specimen of a human being) when he said that he would “rather have a retarded hot woman than a slob who’s a doctor”! Trump had also called the former miss Universe Alicia Machado “Miss Piggy” because he fount her to be “fat” and “Miss Housekeeping” because she was a Latina! The Venezuelan Alicia Machado, has admitted that Trump, during the year she was crowned Miss Universe, would habitually and publicly fat shame her, forcing her to have a stringent diet and exercise regime which on one occasion, was televised without her permission, causing her self-esteem reaching a nadir point. The result of all this experience was her struggle with eating disorders for years…

Trump’ s sexism reached new levels of creepiness a few days ago of course, when a tape was made public in which he is heard bragging about sexually assaulting women, saying that he is a “star” and therefore can get away with anything, including groping by the genitals any woman he fancies. In the video, obtained by The Washington Post, he is heard to say: “You know I’m automatically attracted to beautiful — I just start kissing them. It’ s like a magnet. Just kiss. I don’ t even wait. And when you’ re a star, they let you do it,” Trump says. “You can do anything. Grab them by the pussy. You can do anything.”

After the outrage this caused, he went on to issue a rare apology. Of sorts. He apologized, but at the same time explained that it was only “locker-room banter”, meaning the kind of thing men are “allowed” to say when they are alone, having their masculinity being validated in the presence of other men by their claims of sexually assaulting women… Yet it is interesting to note that despite being heavily censured by Republican leaders after the video was made public, they still support him! And regardless of the fact that his words have caused an outrage in the media, and even if many men – not just women – have publicly expressed their indignation, one wonders: how far off were his comments than what ordinary, everyday men talk about (and do for that matter)? How many of them think that groping women without their consent is in fact their “birth right” and one hell of a way to validate their masculinity? Statistics certainly reveal that they are many. As it was pointed out by Michelle Obama, it is something that most of us have experienced in some form or other. A woman being there, is enough of an invite and an excuse for many men to feel free to publicly violate her body and her dignity.

This brings to mind that famous, allegedly iconic photo depicting “the Kiss”, the shot taken at 1945, at the end of the WWII, on the V-J Day celebration, which shows a sailor tipping over his sweetheart and kissing her on the mouth. Sadly, the photo that we all held to be a symbol of romantic love, was in fact depicting sexual assault! Greta Friedman, the woman in the photo (who incidentally died recently) revealed that not only it wasn’ t the guy in the photo her sweetheart, but he was a complete stranger to her, who just felt free to grope her without her consent and kiss her, just because she was standing next to him.

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In her words: “It wasn’t my choice to be kissed. The guy just came over and grabbed!” George Mendosa, the guy in the photo, never considered this to be too much of a deal of course. When he was interviewed in 2012, he said: “The excitement of the war bein’ over, plus I had a few drinks, So when I saw the nurse I grabbed her, and I kissed her.” Why ask her right? Interestingly enough, he was there with a date, a woman who went on to become his wife, and who was there watching the whole thing herself, which adds an extra creepiness to the whole event…

The open-mouthed kiss the Fiat heir Lapo Elkann planted on the mouth of the unsuspecting and unpleasantly surprised Uma Thurman at a gala at Cannes earlier this year, or the uninvited, and forced kiss Adrien Brody gave to Halle Berry on the mouth at the 2003 Oscars, come from the same place of male entitlement.

The “I had a few drinks” is of course still a very good and popular excuse when men are sexually assaulting or raping women around the world and especially on campuses all over the USA. (Of course women who are victims of rape while being intoxicated are seen as “asking for it”) In the widely publicized case of the student Brock Turner, who assaulted and attempted to rape an unconscious woman behind a dumpster (before he was interrupted by 2 students who were passing by), his intoxication was used as a good excuse for his behavior. What he learned from the experience was according to what he told the judge, (who by the way, gave him a six-month sentence because he was an athlete) is “not to drink”, and NOT “not to rape”: “I never want to attend a social gathering that involves alcohol or any situation where people make decisions based on the substances they have consumed. These things force me to never want to put myself in a position where I have to sacrifice everything.” Meaning his athletic career. What it meant for the woman to be fount in such a situation is irrelevant to him or the judge. He was of course, released from jail after serving just three months…

Similarly, when a 19-year-old homeless woman was raped by a drunken man in Canada in September 2014, she was told by the judge that it was her responsibility to be more “careful”, and that she should have kept her “knees together” so that her rapist (an aggressive, 240-pound man by the way), would be “prevented” from raping her. When she talked about the physical pain caused by the assault, she was told by this sorry excuse of a judge, that “Sex and pain sometimes go together; that, that’ s not necessarily a bad thing.” Sadly these are not rarities. Sexual discrimination by the juridical system is common when it comes to rape victims . It is for example quite common all over the world for judges to not hold rapists accountable for their actions, or often even justify them by shifting the blame on the sexual assault survivors.

Women on campuses all over the USA, the UK and elsewhere, are being drugged, in order to be raped while unconscious. The problem is so widespread, that in 2015, a video titled “Tea and Consent” was released by British police in order to educate men in the apparently, very difficult to grasp concept of sexual consent. It uses animated stick figures, and a cup of tea as an analogy for sex, and attempts to teach guys among other things, that “unconscious people don’ t want tea, can’ t answer the question ‘do you want tea?’ because they are unconscious”… Who knew that it needed to be said? There are a lot of Bill Cosbys out there obviously – whose accusers by the way, are 58 so far!

Women are being told to be careful, to never walk alone at night, to carry rape whistles, to not go out, to dress modestly, to avoid eye contact in public transportation, to keep their head down, to live in fear. Next to nothing is being told to men however about not raping, about it being a crime and a horrible violent act. And when they do commit this hideous crime, they get away with it more often than not.

The American singer CeeLo Green, for example, was accused of doing the same thing: of drugging a woman who woke up hours later naked in bed with him. The DA declined the rape charges and even though the singer denied the allegations, he went on to make these suspicious comments on Twitter: “If someone is passed out they’ re not even WITH you consciously! so WITH Implies consent”. Meaning if she was unconscious (never mind that she was unconscious because HE drugged her in order to rape her) then it was all OK and it wasn’ t really rape. Someone ought to remind him (since he is so into technicalities and all), that if she couldn’ t technically say “No”, she couldn’ t say “Yes” either…) After the outrage his comments have caused, he later (like many celebrities in his place) had apologised (to his fans, NOT to the woman), and deleted his Twitter account…

On average, there are 288,820 victims (age 12 or older) of rape and sexual assault each year in the United States. One out of six women in the USA has been the victim of sexual assault or rape. Like in the case of domestic violence, the statistics of course only include the number of women who come out and talk about these matters openly, and are therefore added to the lists. The unreported rapes, remain unrecorded. The numbers of women who never talk about their experiences, including the women who are raped by their husbands, (given how they are being treated by judges and police officers, not to mention their families) are assumed to be much, much higher. But it’s a global phenomenon. In 2010 alone, 100,000 rapes were recorded in Australia, 200,000 in Egypt, 85000 in Britain, and as many as 500,000 in South Africa!

Things are worse in Third World countries and the Moslem world, like say in Afghanistan, where when a married woman is raped and dares to report the crime, she can be legally prosecuted and charged with adultery (like it was her fault), a crime that is punishable by death! (So she can end up dead too!) If she is single, she may become the victim of an “honor killing”, as in be killed by her own family because she brought “shame” to them (by being a victim of a horrible assault!), or more commonly, will be forced to marry her rapist and by this, give him the “chance” to extinguish his crime!!! (It is interesting to note that the Criminal Code of many countries support – or at least until fairly recently – supported this practise. In Italy for example, this article of law was still in use up until 1981, when it was finally abolished!)

In Bangladesh, Egypt and other places, women who turn to the police for help after they have been raped, are additionally forced to go through the humiliation and added sexual assault of the “two-finger test” by doctors and often plain police officers, which “determines” whether or not a woman is “habituated to sex”. If she had had sex before, she is therefore considered to be “guilty” and her rapist seen as innocent and justified…

In the Arab world, just walking in the street while being female, is an open invitation for men. If the women report the assaults, or merely mention them to their families, they are of course accused for being in the wrong place, at the wrong time, wearing the wrong thing, and therefore asking for it. Which is what keeps women hidden away, wrapped in their nigabs, and their hijabs, and their veils and their burkas. What Westerners don’ t seem to understand, is that many women cover themselves willingly, not simply out of religious notions, but in order to become invisible, to be left alone. To walk from point A to point B, without being attacked. Their veils are cover ups, are war tactics, are camouflage. (Because they live constantly in a war zone). For most of them, being covered is a matter of survival. They want to blend in, to be unrecognizable. Their beauty, shape and age undetected by gropers and rapers and murderers who consider it their right to assault them daily just because they are walking down the street, for being “arrogant” and “shameless” and “disrespectful” enough to be out of their home/prison, or God forbid, be without a male escort, but mostly for existing in the world! For not being males! (this being their biggest, and most unforgivable of sins!)

What would it take for things to change? For men to somehow reverse hundreds, thousands of years of misogynistic programming, and miraculously evolve so that they see women as human beings, (instead of body parts, and their rightful possessions)? One would think that it would take a revolution! And the Arab Spring was supposed to bring that about, among other things. To change not just the lives of people, but their perceptions, and their attitudes towards women. This is what all those women hoped for, and struggled to achieve, as they left their homes (a bravery in itself) and stood there beside men, shouting for freedom and liberty, in places like the Tahrir Square, in Egypt. But sadly, by the end of the day, it was made painfully obvious to them that things would not change for them. There would be no freedom for them, no liberty, no end to their life-sentence. In the midsts of celebration, the women present were subjected to mob sexual assaults, harassment or gang rapes. Hundreds of men would go after one single lone woman, surrounding her in what have been called by women “circle of hell”, taking their turns. The few who dared to report they have been assaulted, were forced to endure further assault by police officers who needed to personally “check” their virginity, because in that world, only a virgin can be raped of course…

Any large gatherings where women can be fount in the Muslim world, can easily end up with them being in the middle of these “circles of hell”. But Muslim men are not the only ones who would do such things. On December 31 2014, for example, many women in Germany experienced this nightmare, just because they were out, and in the proximity of men. 1,200 women and girls (aged from nine to 79!) were sexually abused in German cities during New Year’s Eve celebrations, by 1,000 drunk and aggressive men. It is interesting to note that according to “leaked reports” published by the DailyMail, only about half of the perpetrators, were foreign nationals (see: Arab refugees) In short, let us not be quick to see this as a problem relating to the Islam alone… Western men aren’t above all that, given the opportunity…

Besides, isn’t fear the feeling you are most likely to feel if you are a woman of any nationality, fount alone, in a large gathering of men of ANY nationality? Who can deny it? Don’t we all, even the strongest and bravest among us, keep that fear always at hand? Haven’ t we all been scared on some night returning home, walking in an empty street, or a park, minding our business working late in an empty office, or walking towards our car in an empty parking lot, being in a deserted beach, entering a Taxi late at night, being in an elevator with a stranger, or travelling alone? Don’ t we leave the lights on when we are alone, keep a friend’ s number on speed dial, or worry a bit when we go on a first date with a guy we just met? (And statistics say that we DO have grounds to worry…)  Don’t we all take precautions we hope will keep us safe, and which we have come to consider natural, part of our routines, part of our lives as women? Isn’t that proof that our lives, though indeed in many ways different than the lives of our Muslim sisters, are not as different as we would have liked to believe? We are free to walk in the street, but not completely without danger. We are free to live as we choose, but not quite…

Before we feel dismay mixed with feelings of superiority when we are thinking about the horrible experiences of the women hoping for a revolution and finding abuse on Tahrir Square, we need to be reminded that the same thing happened to American women (and some underage girls) on many of the Occupy Wall Street camps! In fewer numbers yes, but it did happen! Just because some women fount themselves alone among large groups of men. That’s all it takes… And again, if we think street harassment (the “milder” of abuses) characterizes only Arab, Mediterranean or third world countries, we only need to read some to the experiences written by women from many Western countries (25 so far!) in the “Everyday Sexism Project” http://everydaysexism.com that is becoming like a huge data-base of the daily humiliations and public violations that are faced by countess women around the world.

So it is therefore quite understandable that when Donald Trump spews misogynistic aphorisms with uncensored abandon, the many men who support him are still impressed by him! You can easily imagine a collective sign of relief, satisfaction and appreciation coming out of the mouth of countless men who think exactly like him, but thought they were not supposed to reveal it publicly. (Not after the fifties anyway…) And here is this guy who gives the impression that he has been living in a (possibly golden) cave somewhere, and had never heard of political correctness and Women’ s Rights and plain, common decency. Here is this guy who says all the things they were thinking all along! How could he not be popular, I ask you?

Besides, it is EXACTLY the same way of thinking that is expressed in the Rap music culture (some fine examples here: http://elitedaily.com/music/music-news/the-20-most-misogynist-lines-in-rap-history/) and also by most male, Internationally acclaimed stand up comics working in the English speaking world. All the good ones, all the highly intelligent, and exceptionally talented ones (from Eddie Murphy, and Bill Hicks, to Dave Chappelle, Louis C.K., Bill Burr, Chris Rock, Jim Jefferies, and Kevin Hart, even early Trevor Noah), have bits where they talk obsessively (Oh boy, is it obsessively!!!) about these things: how women are nothing but bodies in their eyes, and the countless ways in which they want to fuck them; how they feel like every woman is a gold digger; how they feel every woman they fancy ought to replicate every single humiliation they have ever watched pornstars endured for a pay check, preferably with the same kind of fake enthusiasm; how they love ejaculating all over their their face (because what is a male orgasm without that added kick of humiliating a woman with the most disgusting of ways?); how they are (just like Trump) constantly rating women in their mind, comparing them, hating them for every imperfection, obsessing about their various body parts, hoping these were not attached to a person, a human being with thoughts and needs and views and self respect. How they hate them when they are “bitches” (say “No” to them); and how they loath them when they are “whores” (say “Yes” to them); how they despise them when they are “ball breakers” (intelligent, well educated, articulate and with opinions of their own); and how they can’t stand them when they are feminists (not good sports when it comes to rape jokes. Or actual rape…) How they judge all women primarily on account of their weight, age, and the size of their boobs and behinds; how they lust over them regardless if they are underage, or on occasion, their blood relatives. How they feel like they have (or at least ought to have) the right to grope them whenever they feel like it. And of course, how much they really REALLY wish they lived in the time when they could hit them and not get in trouble. This in fact, seems to be a very, VERY strong and common need in most men, if we take into account the comedians’ s perspective. And you feel like they do strike some sensitive chords, some hidden, collective, primal masculine need, as you hear the room pulsating with wild laughter, and you see row after row of men nodding in deep appreciation and inner gratification. The same sort of gratification that a certain – by the looks of it, a big – percentage of men feel when they hear Trump talk about women.

What is even more disappointing, is how many women often react when the news of events relating to sexual harassment or assault reach them. There is, it seems among women, an underlying fear that should they comment negatively about misogyny, they would automatically be branded as “man-hating bitches” or (The horror! The horror!) “feminists”! Whenever the news of sexual assault, harassment and discrimination against women reaches their Facebook news feed for example, or they come upon them anywhere on the Internet, they seem to feel the need to express in comments along with their dismay, their assurance that “not all men are like that”, that “the men in their life are by no means like that”, and “This has never happened to me personally”, and also that “these things happen to men too”. Nobody claimed that these things don’t happen (to a small percentage of) men too (by other men!). And nobody mentioned their husbands, why are THEY bringing them up?

This is an issue that needs to be addressed. We don’ t rush to add whenever we are faced with news about a guy who steals cars, or kills kittens that “hey, not all men steal cars you know!” or “hey, my husband never killed any kittens, all right?” It is assumed, you know what I mean? And therefore it does not need clarification. And we are not branded as “haters” if we call such crimes hideous! And yet whenever sexual crimes against women are being committed, speaking against them, or even about them, often brands women as “man-haters”. It is therefore not surprising that their concern is to be excluded from this category by validating the men in their life. By offering the reassurance that their masculinity is intact, that their own dismay about other men, won’ t affect them personally. Of course, the fact that they feel justified in thinking that, is indicative of the fragility of this type of masculinity and also, of women’ s deep seated insecurities, and secret fears about the true nature of their own relationships with men. It is also indicative that we have a long, LONG way to go…

In any case, whether or not we have experienced the same kind of things is irrelevant. As women, we should make an effort to stop thinking that being a feminist is about hating men or sex, or that it only concerns women who have faced abuse, or have had horrible experiences with men. Not having a terrible marriage, or not being personally a victim of assault, should not stop us from talking about it, wanting to protect the victims, or stopping what has caused them pain! We should live in a bigger world than the one defined wholly and exclusively by our personal experience. We ought to be concerned about and involved in social change! Become interested and even active in politics, even if our life is pretty secure. We shouldn ‘t see our own life circumstances as the rule by which all things are measured and judged! If for example, we have been blessed to find an understanding, loving life partner, we shouldn’ t assume that there are no insensitive, abusive, horrible ones out there, for the same reason that just because there is food on our table, it doesn’ t mean there are no people dying of hunger in the world; just because we live in a country where there is no war, it doesn ‘t automatically mean there is World Peace; and just because we were never the victim of a crime, it doesn’ t mean they don’t happen all the time, etc. Let us not diminish any other woman’ s experience, by always comparing it to our own. And let us keep in mind that the women who talk of the injustice and violence, or discrimination experienced by women all over the world, are not necessarily personally victims of violence themselves, and it is not a comment on their own relationships with the men in their life! (Not to mention they should not be made to feel like they ought to clarify that all the time!) How about we face the reality of misogyny, and male entitlement and male violence without being called man-haters or feeling like we need to make excuses for them? How about, we stand beside our sisters who have been mistreated, degraded, violated without feeling like our own partners will be justified in taking offense?!

Let us not forget: even if we were blessed to live a good life, the world is largely still a hostile place for women and girls! How about we stand beside our sisters, the women and under-age girls who have been used, abused, humiliated, raped, tortured and murdered, (often by their loved ones); the women who were branded and sold like pieces of meat; the baby girls who were killed at birth on account of their sex; the toddlers and young girls who were sexually abused or forced into child marriages with grown up men and whose lives is an endless torture; the women who were victims of human trafficking and those who were forced to suffer female amputations and sex slavery… How about we talk about the countless women who are taken from their homes and their families, in times of war all over Africa or now Syria, in order to be passed from soldier to soldier like things, before they are killed because they are rendered “useless” to them as they become fatally sick after years of non stop abuse? How about we talk of the nightmare marriages of women in the Middle East (and elsewhere), whose husbands (and fathers) are taught from an early age that it is not just their “right”, but their actual religious “duty” to hit them daily? How about we talk about the endless generations of women whose lives were wasted in arranged marriages with men they have not loved, or even met before their wedding day. How about we talk about the many places in the world where women still do not have the right to vote, to be educated, have a job and their own money, have a say in the way they want to live their lives, or be considered actual human beings?! How about we face rape culture, pedophilia and the sexualization of young girls in the media? How about we face the fact that men’s perception of women and sex, is in the last 10-15 years heavily influenced by their obsessive watching of Internet porn? How about we face the realities of social media and Western pop culture, which view women as bodies and nothing else, and which makes young girls believe it to be true?

And how about we talk about all that, without feeling like we need to always haste to add: “some men are also victims of violence in the hands of women, too”, not just because the numbers of such incidents are staggeringly small, compared to the overwhelming numbers of female victims, or even because when a woman commits a crime against a man it’s because she’s been more often than not his victim for years, but because such an argument deliberately and slyly diminishes the importance of the fact that being born a female, is for countless women and young girls around the world, literally equated with life-long violence, humiliation and fear. Such an argument – which always aims to sooth the male ego – is an additional insult to the millions of women around the world who are facing daily violent realities.

How about we bravely speak about the violent nature of countless men out there, without the constant fear that we also need to be protecting “traditional” masculinity, which is apparently so fragile, that it needs constant gratification and protection,  even when it is not the victim but the perpetrator? How about we talk of male violence, rape and abuse and discrimination, without feeling the need to add that “personally, we do love men!” (You know, how men are allowed to talk about say, the Holocaust, without also feeling the need to declare their undying love for 40’s German architecture… Or those truly well tailored Nazi uniforms…

How about we talk openly about how bad relationships and sexism are common, without being seen as speaking from a place of bitterness?

And how about we teach our sons not to rape, rather than teach our daughters to always live in fear? How about we teach them that women are not just bodies? How about we teach them, that sex requires the other person’ s consent!

How about we create a world where women can actually walk in an empty street at night and not be in danger?

And how about we teach our sons to be accountable for their actions! How about we resist the granted, overwhelming urge to overindulge them, even when they are possibly the only males in our lives who actually think we deserve their respect?

How about we teach them they don’ t always have to prove their masculinity by acts of physical power and violence – or by their lewd comments. Or by anything. (They ARE males. It’ s a done deal. Teach them to relax already. There is no need to continue having to prove it all the time, because the ways they choose to prove it, are always ALWAYS victimizing women, girls and other, less powerful men)

How about we stop praising our sons every time they make lewd, degrading and sexist comment that reduce women into body parts? How about we teach them about empathy and that it is not OK to judge women (or anyone) only by their looks?

How about we teach them that it is OK to be gentle and kind and empathetic, and that being violent is NOT equated with being a man! How about we stop being scared that any display of sensitivity on their behalf is also a display of homosexuality? How about we start being concerned about their violent tendencies, instead of encourage them from an early age, seeing them as signs of being on the “right” track of become “normal” heterosexual males? How about we stop being proud about their violent behavior, which in turn results in a society that is increasingly more and more violent? How about we stop being scared of having a gay son so much, that we eliminate any signs of sensitivity and kindness from his heart? How about we realize that in any case, there are far, FAR worse things in this life than having a gay son (like having an abusing heterosexual son for example!) And how about we realize that being respectful of other people’ s feelings, bodies and space, being empathetic, and having a heart – whether you are man or woman, heterosexual or gay – are only good signs!

And how about we teach our daughters that they are more than bodies with an expiration date? How about we teach them to have the kind of self-respect that stops them from being in constant need of validation by men, even when they are abusive.

How about we teach them to be brave and self-sufficient, instead of teaching them to be scared and in need of a rescuer? How about we teach them to have ambitions and to work hard so that they will always be financially independent and so have options in this life, and not be forced to hope for nothing better, nothing bigger than finding a guy who will take care of them, (and who therefore, will predictably feel entitled to control them)?

How about we teach them that it is OK to look exactly the way they look, and that they are worthy of love (and really mean it!) even if a guy says he doesn’ t think so. How about we teach them to have dreams other than being pretty, thin, not ageing and finding a husband? (And to do it also by our example!)

And how about we teach them that when they will get old, they will still be them, and for a man who actually deserves their respect, they will still be his beloved?

How about we teach them both – the sons and the daughters – about dignity?

(Where would Trump – or anyone of his kind – be then, I ask you?)

Wouldn’ t that be something? 

Would that be some world?!

***


POST US ELECTION AFTERTHOUGHT:
 

For those of you who think that feminism is obsolete and sexism is a thing of the past; for those of you who wonder why that glass ceiling is still intact; for those of you who ask why women don’t step up and take challenging public roles in their societies instead of being confined in their smaller, domestic worlds happily “baking cookies”, or indeed why do they not report rapes, assaults, harassment, here is your answer: a guy who was openly a racist, a xenophobe and a sexist; who lied, who ridiculed handicapped people, who cheated on his taxes, and who by his own admission has harassed and assaulted God knows how many women, not only is he not punished for the fact, but is gloriously rewarded. Seen as being suitable to become the leader of the free World. But a woman who mixed up her email accounts (WHILE being a woman, mind you!!!)? Oh that is unforgivable and further proof that like all women, she is not to be trusted…

*

“Trump’s Familiar Brand of Sexism”: October 2016.

Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications. Feel free to share on Social media

http://www.fanitsa-petrou.com



 

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TYPES OF MEN – Who’s Out There

WHO’S OUT THERE 

(Eleven) Types of Men:

Men you are likely to meet (before you decide you’ve had just about enough…) Who are they?  Their most valuable possessions / Their biggest fantasies / Their biggest fears)

Art & words by Fanitsa Petrou

***

“…But if you want conversation, emotional intelligence and empathy? Forget about it… You are better off with a Labrador frankly…”

1) The “blue-collar alpha male”

macho-guy-2

The guy who is athletic and squared jawed and possibly has abs of steel – though it is equally likely to have a beer gut. The fireman type, the military type, the builder type, the plumber type, the policeman type, the car mechanic type, who loves his mum’ s cooking and his sports, and possibly hunting and fishing (finding the skinning of animals and the gutting of fishes to be a manly, satisfying job); who is a problem solver, antagonistic, and single-minded and in possession of power tools, and so quite handy when you want to hang a picture. The guy who is a real survivor and knows how to take care of “Number One”. Who has a perpetual need to prove his masculinity to other guys and his ‘superiority’ to women. Who watches porn religiously and thinks that porn stars are what any woman out there is like (or at the very least ought to be). Who believes monogamy is for sackers, and possibly has violent tendencies – courtesy of those famous, high testosterone-fuelled survival skills of his – not to mention his porn watching. The type of man who at times of trouble, (accidents, natural catastrophes, wars, storms, floods, the End of Days), will scoop you up before the walls collapse around you making you feel safe. Until he gets angry with you that is, in which case you are better off being in the middle of that storm than anywhere near him. He is also very useful when you are being attacked by other men. That’ s the thing about alpha males: you can count on them when you are in danger from other alpha males: in a world that is still a violent place for women, a husbands’ s – only truly 100% irreplaceable – “use” is still, sadly, to save you from other men… Not just because they fight each other, having pissing contests over you and all that, but because a violent man won’ t think twice before harming you, but he may respect some other man’ s “property”- which is what you are, in his eyes…

He is in fact, together with the “The accountant / average Joe guy” (see below), the most common kind of guy out there, and ironically the type you are most likely to marry… But if you want conversation, emotional intelligence and empathy? Forget about it… You are better off with a Labrador frankly…

Most valuable possession:

His six-pack (the one in his fridge, and the one under his flannel shirt)

His rechargeable 3-speed drill (no pan intended).

His “Thor” (pan intended)

Biggest fantasy:

A threesome.

Biggest fear:

Impotence.

Going to jail and turning gay. And liking it.

 2) The Nerd

nerdy-guy2

The socially impaired, neurotic, glass wearing, Game-of-Thrones obsessed, Khaleesi fantasising, Dungeons-and-Dragons-playing, nerdy guy, who has been bullied at high school (which is still the place where all his nightmares take place), who is fluent in movie quotes and quick with the pop culture references. The guy who loves his super heroes and his comics; who will be very useful when your computer crashes, but who has probably seen an unhealthy amount of Japanese porn, which is apparently really, REALLY weird, but not as nasty as German porn (it figures…) so small blessings, and which will have probably left him with an Asian-girls fetish, lusting over tiny, submissive women for the rest of his life. Because of that, he may at some point of the relationship casually suggest you cut your hair in a bob and wear a red kimono while bashfully avoiding his gaze…

On the plus side, he will be for ever grateful to be with you, given that he never thought it possible to be with a real, living, breathing woman – as in not one residing in the two-dimensional world of comics or the Internet.

Most valuable possession:

His hand painted, interactive Harry Potter wand.

His vintage 1997 Final Fantasy VII video game.

His asthma inhaler.

Biggest fantasy:

A new Firefly season (preferably with a thin-again Nathan Filion)

Biggest fear:

The Zompie Apocalypse.

Peanuts.

3) The Outdoorsman

hiker-b

He is athletic and cool, overenthusiastic and usually uncomplicated and a bit on the scruffy side. He has an open heart, and often the innocence of a young boy. Loves his cargo pants and the smell of rain, cooking things on his backpacking stove, and talking for hours with other men about that time he thought he saw a bear. He can be romantic and sweet but it will come with a cost. Having a relationship with him – or God help you, a marriage – means your life will include quite a bit of eating out of cans, and going to the bathroom in the great outdoors: he can be a good partner, unless you mind going to hikes and camping trips with him and having to bury your own poo, or pack it out (your choice – because there IS such a thing as a poo etiquette you see), or peeing in a bottle (apparently it’ s not just for boys any more…) It is likely that he is a health nut, an environmentalist and possibly a vegetarian, and loves taking baths in the freezing water of rivers.

He will wake you up at the crack of down to view the Sunset, or have a look at a Northern lapwing (which is apparently a bird) feeding its young. (Try to refrain from throwing his Timberlands at him before going back to sleep) He will tell you long – in fact seemingly endless – stories of camping trips and hikes where he had to – gladly – drink his own urine, pausing to give you the time to be properly impressed. He has a thing against vacations that include hotels, (proper beds, a bath with running hot water, an actual toilet, room service, food that comes in porcelain plates instead of aluminium bags you need to boil) and would rather sleep outside, where he can see the stars, the Moon, the larks and whatever. He knows the name of trees, the different species of frogs and lizards and all kinds of disgusting little creatures, and loves the new vistas as seen from a mountain top, his bicycle, his new hiking boots after three days of wearing them, the feeling you get when you think you are lost but then you see a familiar tree, the snow-covered mountains looming ahead, the untaken road, the smell of his own sweat….

When he gets older, he’ll want you two to spend all your savings on buying an RV, or give up your jobs in the city and “live off the land” (translation: without electricity. Or Internet) Pray he won’t say “off the grid” (translation: also without running water and indoors plumbing). Be warned.

Most valuable possession:

His compass.

His old copy of Kerouac’ s “On the Road” he read when he was a teenager and which had set him on this path.

Biggest fantasy:

The Appalachian Trail

Backpacking around the world.

Finding a woman who doesn’ t mind making a pillow out of gear equipment.

Biggest fear:

Global Warming.

Working in an office.

4) The Hipster 

beard

The guy with the elaborate man-bun and the waxed moustache, and the long, I-have-just-invented-electricity beard, who is a barista, or a second-year acting student, a blogger, or a furniture / graphics designer, or else an installations artist – and if not any of that, then a marine biologist who is currently working on his master’s degree. The guy who is covered in tattoos, which are meant to make him stand out – if only every other guy was not also covered in them… The guy who comes from money and is eager to prove he is above it all by dressing from thrift stores in grandfather clothes and flat hats and beanies, and going to Third World countries for a vacation, helping the natives with their various and endless needs for a couple of weeks, and talking about it – and blogging about it  – endlessly for the next 10 years. (Every single “good deed” of his, being of course well documented, Instagramed and tweeted) The guy who plays obscure instruments like tiny ukeleles and tambourines, and loves his gadgets and all the Wes Anderson movies; who listens to world music and Indie Rock, and wears plaid  shirts and glasses “ironically”. The guy who loves experimental theatre (preferably of monologues by young women cantered around their periods, which prove to all that he is in fact  a “feminist”); who drinks whiskey from marmalade jars as if this is the Prohibition, and eats salads out of mugs; who loves minimalistic, industrial spaces with bare concrete walls and carpets with green / yellow 70’s patterns that remind you of  the carpet in the “Shining”, and furniture made from reclaimed wood with rough edges and branches sticking out. Who puts light bulbs on painted wooden cases, which he calls “conceptual pieces” and sells them at outrageously high prices to other hipster rich kids. Because what is he, if not an “artist”?

Most valuable possession:

His favorite bow-tie.

His ‘analogue’ camera. (or what we used to call, “a camera”)

His unicycle.

Biggest fantasy:

Becoming famous.

Biggest fear: 

Nobody noticing how special he is. 

His mum being wrong about him.

5) The New Ager

yoga-teacher-guy

The long haired, barefooted, Buddhist, vegetarian, Yoga instructor / pilates teacher / life coach guy, or the one who sells herbal tea and organic veggies at a farmers’ s market or teaches past life regression at Mind/Body/Spirit fairs, who has two Angel’ s wings and passages from the Bhagavad Gita tattooed in Sanskrit on his back; who talks in Self-Help quotes and wears floral (actual floral! as in “with flowers on them”) yoga pants, and has necklaces and things hanging on his – granted – usually well formed, naked torso. Who will meditate and hum and pray and chant and burn incense and smoke weed, and talk about the “other side” endlessly, while staring at his Mandala poster. Who will justify his stoner habits as “astric journeys”, and will talk with religious conviction against sugar and coffee and milk and chocolate and bread and cheese and cake, and all things good. Who will preach about your blocked chakras, and your clogged third eye, and your bad eating habits for a disturbingly long amount of time, and will suggest you have a colon cleanse and a juice fast together, which you suspect with horror, he might mean as a form of flirting… Who will keep a dream journal, and a ‘spiritual affirmations’ notebook, and be into weird twisted sexual poses that last for an ungodly amount of time, and which frankly, you find to be too much. (Plus you better have stretched beforehand…) Who will also possibly have tons of pent-up anger seething underneath the layers of “Love & Light” platitudes, Self Help theories, New Age philosophies, Rumi quotes and the general “Life is A Journey“ attitude, which reveals its ugly head from time to time, leading to penance rituals and crystal clearing and more sitar music and further fasting. And possibly crying.

Most valuable possession:

His kyanite crystal pendant that connects him to his spirit guide from Atlantis.

A photo of his aura.

His bong.

Biggest fantasy:

He claims: living for three months in an ashram in India. Really: having a steak with mash potatoes and cheese, like his mama used to make.

Finding a way to turn his theories into a real, solid income that will allow him to move out of his brother’ s flat.

Biggest fear:

People finding out he dozes off when he meditates.

 6) The “white-collar, alpha male”

time-parable

Politicians, doctors, chartered accountants, stock brokers, CEOs, hedge fund managers, upscale salesmen, agents, big shot lawyers, trust fund young men, and anyone who is making a living by taking a percentage of other people’ s money: charming, smooth, entitled, mean-spirited men. Men in suits who are good at manipulation and selling things; men with serious narcissistic disorders, and possibly sociopathic tendencies, who are consumed with ambition and the desire to succeed at all costs, who have a burning need to prove they are the best, not necessarily by punching each other, but by humiliating and eliminating financially each other. The guys who were bullies at school; who hate their dads and want to prove them wrong; who love money and expensive things and status symbols; who see women as their possession and who will provide an expensive lifestyle for you – at least for as long as you are still young and undemanding.

Most valuable possession:

His first million.

His BMW 6 Series Convertible.

His limited edition i-phone.

Biggest fantasy:

Another threesome, like the one he had on Friday.

Biggest fear:

Being audited.

His father being right about him.

7) The accountant / average-Joe guy: 

The uncomplicated, dependable, logical, straight talker, small-time lawyer, accountant, teacher, bank clerk, civil servant, middle management guy with the steady job with the benefits and the dental plan and his eyes on retirement (regardless of how old he is), on whom you can rely in times of trouble OR Peace (in times of war and natural catastrophes, you can always count on him to already have stacked dry goods and flashlights – with extra batteries!) and first aid kits in his emergency bag. In times of Peace, you can always count on him to remind you when your car is due for a MOT, or tell you  how many minutes exactly you are running late when you are getting ready to go out).

You see him in supermarkets doing the weekly shopping with his wife, making sure she doesn’ t stray and buy expensive brands, ticking things off his list (often not just mentally… but with actual pens. Right there in the supermarket!) He is also quite conservative, and close minded, religious, and possibly secretly a racist, who will bore you out of your mind, and make you wish for your death. But he is granted, reliable, possibly monogamous (in a hygienic sort of manner), and helpful with the housework, which is always a plus. Unless you mind being told over, and over, and over, again the one and ONLY “correct” way of doing things…

Most valuable possession:

His bank statements file.

His insurance policy.

His pension plan.

Biggest fantasy:

Early retirement.

Biggest fear:

Late retirement.

8) The feminist’s son

ok-guy-2

The rare man who has been raised by the rare sort of woman who is a feminist who fought the need to overindulge her son, or take any nonsense from him, and has taught him that actually women are worthy of his love AND respect, and she has therefore produced the rarity that is a good and decent guy: the thoughtful, sensitive dude who is not afraid to cry, who is loyal and has principles and may have read a book or two; who is gentle and helpful with the kids without feeling he is doing you a favour; who appreciates Art but is cool about it; whose taste in music is unpredictable and anything but generic; who will go on the occasional hike, even to a camping trip but is not particularly good at it. Who loves dogs and is kind and empathetic, and great in a time of Peace, but who is notoriously untrustworthy in a time of trouble: when push comes to shove, say in a war (caused by the white-collar alpha males and fought by the blue-collar alpha males above) or in a crowded cinema theater that’ s caught fire, he will be looking for the EXIT sign, and be equally lost and confused as you…

Most valuable possession:

A photo of you and the kids.

A Joy Division vinyl album he bought once at a flea market.

His glasses.

Biggest fantasy:

Playing drums in a punk rock band.

Biggest fear:

Something bad happening to his family.

9) The “celebrity alpha male” 

The politician, singer, actor, TV personality, public relations executive, the guy who is successful and charming and usually good looking, but also flaky and arrogant and narcissistic and all over the place; who will make you feel like he was born in order to be with you – apparently planets were aligning, stars were exploding, new species were being born, and worlds were colliding – but will forget your name the next day. (Because what are you really to him, other than nameless, faceless body parts?)

Most valuable possession:

His mirror.

The newspaper clipping from his first interview.

His hair.

Biggest fantasy:

International fame.

Biggest fear:

Baldness.

10) The Tortured Artist 

artist

The writer, painter, film maker, comedian, who dresses in black and has a beard for the old-fashioned reasons (because he is too lazy, doesn’ t care, or has forgotten to shave), who is dark and moody and intense and possibly a smoker. Who is talented and intelligent and damaged and complicated and neurotic – and a little nuts frankly. Who is  sarcastic and hurt, and has major father AND mother issues, and would rather stay home than go out and be in danger of meeting anyone he knows and then having to talk to them; who also has a deep understanding of human nature and is a regular misanthrope (though what else can you be when you have a deep understanding of human nature, I ask you?) Who fantasizes about finishing that novel so he can finally sleep through the night. Who has great emotional capacities which he keeps a secret. Sex with him will be the worse or the most intimate of experiences (possibly both), and your bond with him the strongest of your life, (unless you hate drama). He is also possibly pron to mood swings, depression, addictions, (most likely alcohol) and the need to be left alone…

Most valuable possession:

His old copy of James Joyce’s Ulysses with the hundreds of notes in the margins.

His Prozac.

Secretly, you.

Biggest fantasy: 

Being alone.

Biggest fear: 

Being alone.

11) The Nut Case 

And finally, the worst for last: the Architect, the academic, the high profile engineer, the post modern designer, the hedge fund manager, the economist, the movie producer, the millionaire who owns a tech company or a media conglomerate, or interestingly, the therapist. The guy who dresses in white linen (often collar-less) suits, and has shoulder length hair (if at all) that go well with his Messianic complex, and lives in a white / gray spacious house with lots of glass and lots of chrome in the kitchen, buttery black leather Italian sofas, with no knick knacks, and huge canvases of abstract Art on his walls. The guy who cooks gourmet meals (in fact he knows how to make just the one, but really REALLY well, and besides it gets the job done) and is particular about his wine and his cigars (and his socks and the length of his nails for some reason), and wants you to know about it. In the Summer, he is not too shy to wear open toe italian shoes, or even the occasional male sarong. He reads mostly the Economist keeping an eye on the stock market, but wants you to think he reads Henry Miller and Bukowski (obviously on account of the sex parts and all). Secretly a hypochondriac and a germaphobe, he has his pharmacist’s (and dealer’s) number on speed dial, and has very precise expectations from his employees and his women, both of whom are seen as the providers of a paid service rather than actual individuals. He can offer you long lazy Summers on white yachts (if you have the right age and measurements and the correct amount of self loathing that is), sipping Martinis at parties with other girls who look exactly like you (and are as insignificant and “faceless” as you are to him) sunbathing in white chaise lounges and beautifying his surroundings. He will also tell you what to wear (black and white bikinis with high heels, and white mini halter dresses on the boat; white Jackie O suits on the shore), what to say, what and how much to eat. Sex with him will require specific sanitation procedures, medical diagrams with instructions and arrows, and a Jewish lawyer.

Most valuable possession:

His collection of Japanese erotic prints.

His Viagra.

Biggest fantasy:

Something that involves a whip.

Or an Angora sweater.

Preferably, both.

Biggest fear:

Death.

His mother.

Getting fat.

People finding out that sometimes he cries curled up in the fatal position, holding his blankie.

Choose wisely…

Basic Types of Women as seen by Men:

One could go into similar long lists about the types of women who are out there, what they are like, what they like or hate, how they live their lives, what makes them interesting to men, but why kid ourselves? Seen from the point of view of a guy, who cares? Personality, if anything, is something that gets in the way… Most men are just not that picky, and their criteria when choosing a woman are not exactly sophisticated. They do have some though: basically they see women as belonging into one or the other of these five categories:

1) Young, Old or Ancient

(under 29,  over 29, or over 40).

2) Big boobs or Small boobs.

 3) Thin or Fat.

 4) Blond or Non blond.

5) High maintenance

(she demands he puts coasters under his beer can; has a thing against muddy shoes; asks about his feelings – maybe even his childhood; goes on about her day; wants to cuddle after sex; makes a fuss about anniversaries and Valentine’ s days and birthdays and Xmases and God knows what else; after two-three years, wants to meet his parents; eventually wants to get married / have kids; has opinions, and generally speaking: does not shut the fuck up!)

 or 

  Low maintenance 

(she lets him be;  at least has the decency to claim she doesn’t want to get married; doesn’ t mind having sex on the kitchen table while listening to porn)

men-types-csm

***************************


“WHO’S OUT THERE: Basic Types of Men as seen by women / Basic Types of Women as seen by men”– Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications.

Art by Fanitsa: www.fanitsa-petrou.com

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Posted in Feminist Posts, Funny Stuff, In English, Pop Culture | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Comments Off on TYPES OF MEN – Who’s Out There

Η Γενιά του Κοριτσιού με το Μουστάκι

Η Γενιά του Κοριτσιού με το Μουστάκι

της Φανίτσας Πέτρου

 

… Οι νέοι άντρες μαθαίνουν το δικό τους σώμα μέσα από τέτοιες μονομερείς και για αυτό συναισθηματικά “ασφαλείς” για τους ίδιους εκτονώσεις που γεννιούνται από το πορνό, και οι νέες γυναίκες μαθαίνουν από νωρίς τους ρόλους τους σα “γλάστρες” στο ερωτικό αλισβερίσι…

beard

Με προβλημάτισε η νεαρή του X-Factor. Η νεαρή με το μουστάκι που αποφάσισε όπως δήλωσε «αυθόρμητα», να μας δείξει το πισινό της. Προφανώς νιώθει παρεξηγημένη, απογοητευμένη για το ότι την έδιωξαν από το παιγνίδι, αλλά επίσης προφανώς, όχι μετανιωμένη. Εκ των υστέρων, δηλώνει θιγμένη για το πως της φέρθηκαν κατά τη διάρκεια του όλου διαγωνισμού, το πόσο δηλαδή την πίεζαν να προβάλει ένα σέξι εαυτό, το πόσο το σώμα της και το κατά πόσο ήταν σέξι ήταν η έννοια της παραγωγής, μα αν αυτό την ενοχλούσε 1) γιατί παρέμενε; και 2), γιατί έπαιξε ακριβώς το ίδιο παιγνίδι η ίδια, θυματοποιώντας τον εαυτό της από μόνη της;

Προσωπικά ενοχλήθηκα εξ ίσου και από το ζωγραφισμένο μουστάκι στο πάνω χείλος, και τη δήλωση της πως το κάνει λέει για το πατέρα της, ο οποίος πέθανε πρόσφατα και θάναι τώρα αυτή ο «άντρας» της οικογένειας. Με δυο λόγια, κάθε γυναίκα που είναι δυνατή, που μπορεί να επιβιώσει σε αυτό το κόσμο με κότσια, πρέπει νάναι «άντρας», μα και σύμφωνα με τη λογική της, να μοιάζει κιόλας – έστω και συμβολικά – με ένα άντρα. Τι μήνυμα αλήθεια από ένα Millennial κορίτσι! Πόσο όχι απλά αντιφεμινιστικό και μισογυνιστικό, μα και κλειστόμυαλο, κι ας ακούγεται σαν μαγκιά. Ένας Μεσαιωνισμός είναι, μεταμφιεσμένος σε προχωρημένη άποψη! Κι αν το κοριτσάκι τούτο (τι κοριτσάκι δηλαδή, κοτζάμ γυναίκα στη ουσία, στα 27 της!) τόκανε προφανώς για τους ίδιους ακριβώς λόγους που κάνει η γενιά της όλα τα όσα κάνει (η γενιά της που μεγάλωσε με την αισθητική του Internet και των social media): για να κερδίσει δηλαδή λίγη προσοχή, λίγα έξτρα δευτερόλεπτα δημοσιότητας, λίγα μπράβο για το «θάρρος» της, για να χορτάσει για λίγο το ναρκισσιστικό θηρίο που την αφήνει ήσυχη (τη γενιά ολόκληρη αυτή, όχι την ίδια) μόνο σαν νιώθει πως είναι «Ξεχωριστή», «Special» άξια προσοχής, δε παύει νάναι και εξαιρετικά κακόγουστο. Είναι μια πράξη ενός ανήλικου κοριτσιού που σπάζει το βάζο για να νευριάσει την αδιάφορη μητέρα του, γιατί ο θυμός της είναι κι αυτός μια μορφή προσοχής. Του κοριτσιού που αρνείται να φάει, για να διαφυλάξει μια σταγόνα ανεξαρτησίας μπροστά στο γονιό που επιβάλλει το θέλω του πάνω του. Του κοριτσιού που τραγουδά με το ζόρι σχεδόν στο πάρτι των γονιών του, για να εκβιάσει χειροκροτήματα και μπράβο. Και το κατέβασμα του εσωρούχου της, είναι και μια πράξη προτόγονη που μας παραπέμπει στο νόμο της ζούγκλας όπου οι πίθηκοι δείχνουν ένας στον άλλο τους πισινούς τους καθώς δεν έχουν λέξεις για να πουν τα όσα θέλουν, μα είναι πάνω από όλα, μια πράξη καθ’ όλα ανώριμη και μειωτική για την ίδια, που αν δεν έχει χρωματισμούς σεξουαλικούς, μας παραπέμπει ολόϊσια σε αυτούς…

Μα δεν τάχω με το κορίτσι, κι ας χρησιμοποιώ εδώ το τι έκανε σαν αφορμή. Τάχω με κάποια παιδια από τη γενιά των hipsters που μοιάζουν να ζουν αποκομμένοι από την ουσία. Των παιδιών που πάνε πάντα και για δεύτερο δίπλωμα (και όχι επειδή έχουν τέτοια έφεση και αγάπη στο αντικείμενο των σπουδών τους), μα και για τρίτο, και για τέταρτο και για όσα χρειαστεί βρε αδελφέ, αν είναι να πάρουν παράταση ενηλικίωσης. Αν είναι να μην αναγκαστούν σύντομα να επιστρέψουν και να πιάσουν δουλειά και να ζήσουν τη ζωή τους σαν ενήλικα, αυτόνομα πλάσματα. Τη γενιά των νεαρών που κυκλοφορούν με ποδήλατα των 20ς, και κουβαλούν όπου παν τις ξεφτισμένες βαλίτσες του παππού τους (που έχουν μέσα το smart phone τους, το tablet και όλα τα συναφή), και φτιάχνουν “καλλιτεχνικές” κατασκευές με τούβλα και μπογιατισμένες ξύλινες κάσες (και νομίζουν πως ανακάλυψαν την ταχινόπιττα) και τα πουλούν σαν “conceptual pieces” και installations, και πίνουν ουίσκια μέσα από βάζα μαρμελάδας, λες και βρισκόμαστε στην εποχή της ποτοαπαγόρευσης… Τη γενιά των αγοριών που παίζουν τη νύχτα σε μπάντες περίεργα όργανα, μικροσκοπικά γιουκαλέλι, και κόρνες και άδεια βαρέλια, όχι από τέχνη, μα για το άτιμο το θεαθήναι, για το άτιμο το «Κοίτα πόσο αβάσταχτα cool είμαι», και που το πρωί πάνε ακόμα στη μάνα τους για να τους πλύνει τα σώβρακα και να τους ταΐσει μαγειρευτό φαγάκι… Τη γενιά των αγοριών των καλυμμένων με τατουάζ, με τους περίτεχνους κότσους και τα κερωμένα μουστάκια και τα περίεργα γενάκια, που βάζω στοίχημα τους παίρνει ώρες κάθε πρωί να τα σχηματίζουν από την αρχή (κι αυτό από μόνο του θάπρεπε κανονικά να ξενερώνει τα κορίτσια…), ή των αγοριών με τις μακριές μέχρι το αφαλό Αγιοβασιλίτικες γενειάδες, λες κι είναι οι εφευρέτες του ηλεκτρισμού, ή τίποτε ασκητές στο Άγιο Όρος. Ή λες και μόλις εντάχτηκαν στο Isis… Τη γενιά των αγοριών που στη προσπάθεια τους να μοιάζουν διαφορετικά, μοιάζουν ακριβώς όπως κι όλοι οι πολλοί άλλοι που είχαν ακριβώς την ίδια ιδέα… (Κάποιος θα πρέπει να τα ειδοποιήσει: « Ψιτ, νεαρέ, κοίτα πίσω σου, υπάρχουν ακόμα τέσσερις ίδιοι και απαράλλακτοι εσύ. Γκρουπ είσαστε? Πεντάδυμα? Τι?») Και τη γενιά των κοριτσιών που καπνίζουν σα φουγάρα – γιατί ως γνωστό καλύτερα να πάθεις καρκίνο παρά πάχος – και που ισχυρίζονται πως τη βρίσκουν με τα πορνό που βλέπει το αγόρι τους, πως είναι πολύ cool και ένταξη, και παίζουν και σεξιστικά video games που επιβραβεύουν το βασανισμό / βιασμό γυναικών χωρίς να ιδρώνει το αυτί τους, γιατί είναι προχωρημένες βρε αδελφέ. Τη γενιά των κοριτσιών που το λέν με καμάρι πως δεν είναι φεμινίστριες γιατί είναι “ξεπερασμένο”. Τη γενιά των κατά τα άλλα ετερόφυλων κοριτσιών, που φιλιούνται επιδεικτικά με άλλα κορίτσια στο στόμα, απλά και μόνο για να σοκάρουν τον περίγυρο, μα και να πάρουν πόντους «απελευθέρωσης» στα μάτια των αγοριών που ως γνωστό φτιάχνονται με κάτι τέτοια. Τη γενιά των κοριτσιών που σκαρφίζονται κόλπα του τύπου «φορώ μουστάκι γιατί είμαι άντρας»… Γιατί προφανώς το είναι μια γυναίκα γυναίκα είναι ανεπαρκές, ενώ το να είναι σαν άντρας είναι το απόλυτο βραβείο… (Άντε κορίτσια, αρπάξτε τους μαρκαδόρους σας να αποκτήσουμε και μεις αξία, και κότσια…!)

Μα ίσως δεν έχουμε το δικαίωμα να εκνευριζόμαστε: η γενιά της είναι έτσι κι αλλιώς αυτή που την μεγάλωσε η δική μου πάνω κάτω γενιά, που βίωσε παιδικές ηλικίες με πολέμους, και προσφυγιές, και φτώχειες, κι απανωτές ανατροπές, κι αυστηρούς γονιούς που είχαν να παλέψουν με τα κύματα και δε σήκωναν και πολλά – πολλά , κι είπε «ΟΚ, τα παιδιά μου θα μεγαλώσουν αλλιώτικα». Κι έτσι μεγάλωσε η γενιά μου (που γεννήθηκε στο τέλος των 60ς), τα παιδιά της: αλλιώτικα. Με περισσές επιείκειες, με νεραϊραδογενέθλια και με μια στρατιά δώρων και με ροζ τιάρες και με κάπες σούπερ ηρώων να ανεμίζουν στον αέρα. Έτσι μεγάλωσε: με γονείς που στήνουν καβγάδες με δάσκαλους που επιπλήττουν την αυθάδεια των παιδιών τους, και ύστερα – και για αυτό – με δασκάλους που έφτασαν στη πιο «Ωχ αδερφέ» φάση τους, και μοιράζουν βραβεία για τις συμμέτοχες πάρα για τις αξίες. Μια γενιά που μεγάλωσε χωρίς αυστηρότητες, και γι αυτό συχνά και χωρίς αίσθημα του μέτρου, του σωστού, του ηθικού, του δίκαιου, της ντροπής (κι είναι αναγκαία καμιά φορά, η ντροπή γιατί σου βάζει φρένο στις ανοησίες) μα μόνο με αίσθημα του τι είναι «δικό» τους. Του τι “δικαιούνται”. Του τι τους “αξίζει”. Μια γενιά που μεγάλωσε και με απογεύματα γεμάτα μαθήματα πιάνου και κιθάρας και χορού και ζωγραφικής και θεάτρου και «δημιουργικής» γραφής, που οι γονείς συνεχίζουν να πληρώνουν μόνο αν οι δάσκαλοι συνεχίζουν να τους επιβεβαιώνουν για το πόσο ταλαντούχα πλάσματα είναι τα παιδιά τους, το πόσο ξεχωριστά, το πόσο άξια προσοχής και παγκόσμιας καλλιτεχνικής καριέρας. Και το μεταφέρουν στα παιδιά τους τούτο το όνειρο οι γονείς, που γίνεται σιγά σιγά και δικό τους, μαζί με τη σιγουριά πως τους το χρωστά η ζωή. Μια γενιά που μεγάλωσε και με γιαγιάδες και παππούδες γεμάτους ενοχές για τη δική τους σκληρότητα κι αδιαφορία σαν γονείς, που επανορθώνουν το παρελθόν στα εγγονάκια. Με επιείκειες και δώρα και κανακέματα.

Η γενιά αυτή που την μεγάλωσαν οι γονείς που μεγαλώσαν οι ίδιοι χωρίς επαίνους και μπράβο για αυτό και τα χαρίζουν αδιάκριτα, δημιουργώντας τέρατα αυτοπεποίθησης και ναρκισσισμού! Με μητέρες που μεγαλώσαν σε εποχές που το σεξ ήταν γι αυτές ταμπού, κι είπαν «το παιδί μου θα μεγαλώσει αλλιώτικα!», μα χάσανε τον έλεγχο κάπου στη πορεία, γιατί δε σκεφτήκαν πως η απελευθερωμένη γυναίκα είναι αυτή που σέβεται η ίδια πρώτα από όλα το δικό της το σώμα. Είναι αυτή που διεκδικεί την επιλογή να το μοιραστεί με αυτόν που εκείνη και μόνο διαλέγει, κι όχι αυτή που το μετατρέπει σε φτηνό θέαμα, απλά γιατί εκείνες όφειλαν να το κρύβουν… Κι επειδή τους έμαθαν οι δικοί τους γονιοί να ντρέπονται για το γυμνό τους σώμα, είπαν λοιπόν να ελευθερώσουν τα παιδιά τους από τα παλιά ταμπού. Τους έμαθαν λοιπόν ότι είναι ΟΚ νάσαι γυμνός μπροστά σε άλλους, μα ξέχασαν να τους μάθουν να διαλέγουν σε ποιους το φανερώνουν και το πως η επιλογή είναι από μόνη της εξουσία. Ξέχασαν να  μάθουν στα παιδιά – κι αγόρια και κορίτσια – να σέβονται το σώμα τους, ντυμένο ή γυμνό, γιατί είναι ιερό, γι αυτό και η όποια οικειότητα δοθεί σε κάποιο έχει μια βαρύτητα. Κι είναι πολύτιμο μάθημα τούτο, γιατί σε κάνει αυτόματα να σέβεσαι και του αλλουνού το σώμα: κάνει τα αγόρια να αναγνωρίζουν όρια και να αντιλαμβάνονται πως δεν δικαιούνται να τα διαπεράσουν αν δε τους επιτραπεί. Και κάνει τα κορίτσια να αναγνωρίζουν το δικαίωμα τους να έχουν όρια και το δικαίωμα να διαλέγουν σε ποιον θα παραχωρήσουν το δικαίωμα να τα διαβεί.

Αν το μάθαιναν οι νέοι τούτο το μάθημα δε θα ζούσαμε τώρα σε αυτό που ονομάστηκε Rape Culture (κουλτούρα Βιασμών!) με κατακόρυφη αύξηση των βιασμών και κακοποιήσεων εναντίον γυναικών και κοριτσιών παγκόσμια. Δε θάχαν τα αγόρια την πεποίθηση πως ο βιασμός δεν είναι παρά μια ερωτική πράξη σαν τις άλλες, την οποία τη δικαιούνται, και τα κορίτσια δε θα επέτρεπαν στους εαυτούς τους να εξευτελίζονται σε μιμήσεις των ιερόδουλων, μέσα από μαθήματα στριπτίζ και pole dansing, και μεταξύ μας, δεν θα είχαν και τέτοιο καμάρι για τις επιδόσεις τους σε συγκεκριμένες ερωτικές πράξεις που από τη φύση τους αποκλείουν την ανταποδοτικότητα και τις μετατρέπουν σε εργαλεία…

Αν σέβονταν οι νέοι άνθρωποι το σώμα τους, δε θα είχαν μια τέτοια γιγαντιαία ανάγκη ερωτικής αυτοεπιβεβαίωσης μέσα από το γύρισμα ιδιωτικών πορνό / sex tapes και μέσα από την ανταλλαγή “ερωτικών” selfies που τους μετατρέπει – και περιορίζει – σε σωματικά όργανα: τα κορίτσια στέλνουν συνήθως φωτογραφίες του στήθους τους, τα αγόρια των γεννητικών οργάνων τους. Κι όσο κι αν τα αγόρια τα ευχαριστιούνται τα tit-selfies που λαβαίνουν, τα κορίτσια νιώθουν σύμφωνα με πολλές έρευνες, από αμήχανα μέχρι και αηδιασμένα και θυμωμένα για τα dick- selfies που λαβαίνουν που είναι έτσι κι αλλιώς “αποδείξεις” της ηδονής που προκάλεσε στα αγόρια κάποια ή κάτι άλλο, μα φυσικά δε τολμούν και να το εκφράσουν από φόβο μην και φανούν ψυχρές, οπισθοδρομικές…. Ταύτισαν λοιπόν οι νέες γενιές το σεξ όχι με δόσιμο, ανταποδοτικότητα, επικοινωνία, μα με αυτό που το αγόρι δικαιούται να πάρει, και αυτό που το κορίτσι οφείλει να δώσει αν όχι σαν βίωμα τότε σαν θέαμα, για να πάρει εύσημα. Για να πάρει την επιβράβευση της hot γκόμενας.

Η πράξη της νεαρής γυναίκες να δείξει στο Πανελλήνιο τον πισινό της, δε δείχνει όπως προφανώς θα ήθελε, το πόσο είναι προχωρημένη και απηλλαγμένη είναι από τα παλιά σεξιστικά ταμπού, μα αντίθετα, το πόσο είναι ίσως καθηλωμένη σε αυτά. Γιατί σαν πολλά κορίτσια της γενιάς της, επιβεβαιώνει τα παλιά πανάρχαια στερεότυπα πως μια γυναίκα δεν είναι παρά ένα σώμα, για την ακρίβεια δεν είναι παρά σκόρπια μέλη: στήθος, κόλπος, στόμα, πισινός! Η αξία της σύγχρονης γυναίκας, μετριέται έτσι κι αλλιώς, μόνο μέσα από το πως εκλαμβάνουν την «ποιότητα» των σωματικών μελών της οι άλλοι (οι άντρες), όχι ο ένας που θα επιλέξει κατα καιρούς η ίδια για τους προσωπικούς της λόγους, και με τον όποιο η ίδια θα έχει σεξουαλικά συνευρεθεί μαζί του, μα ΟΛΟΙ οι άντρες που θα γνωρίσει ποτέ σε ολόκληρη τη ζωή της, που της είναι προσωπικά, συναισθηματικά και σεξουαλικά αδιάφοροι, μα που αποζητά καθημερινά την έγκριση τους, χωρίς την οποία δε μπορεί να υπάρξει σαν αυτόνομο πλάσμα. Μα διψά εξ ίσου και για την έγκριση (και φυσικά και τον φθόνο) των άλλων γυναικών που βιώνουν κι εκείνες αναγκαστικά την ανελέητη αέναη σύγκριση των δικών τους «μελών» με αυτά των άλλων γυναικών (όλων των γυναικών του πλανήτη για την ακρίβεια). Γιατί τι άλλο είναι η καθημερινότητα μιας γυναίκας χωρίς αυτοσυναίσθημα, από ένας εφ’ όρου ζωής διαγωνισμός καλλιστείων;

Κι αν είναι το φανέρωμα του πισινού συχνά στο Δυτικό κόσμο μια κίνηση που συμβολίζει επανάσταση, ένα συμβολικό “fuck you!” στα μούτρα της εξουσίας, ένα “kiss my ass γιατί η γνώμη σου για μένα μου είναι αδιάφορη», η αλήθεια είναι πως είναι τέτοιο μόνο για τους άντρες! Γιατί όπως και σε όλα τα υπόλοιπα, άλλοι κανόνες ισχύουν για τις γυναίκες, άλλοι για τους άντρες – ειδικά όταν αυτοί έχουν να κάμουν με το σώμα τους. Μια τέτοια πράξη καμωμένη από γυναίκα, έχει λοιπόν χρώμα σεξουαλικό πάνω από όλα, που δεν έχει να κάμει με τη δική της αίσθηση του σώματος ή τη δική της ευχαρίστηση, μα με αυτή που προκαλεί με το θέαμα που προσφέρει. Έχει να κάμει με τη δική της ναρκισσιστική ανάγκη όχι να πει fuck you!”, μα αντίθετα, συμβολικά πάντα (εύχομαι…) ένα “fuck me!” Μα κι είναι ένα παρακαλεστικό και πιθανώς ασυνείδητα εκφραζόμενο “Κοιτα με! PLEASE!!! Κοίτα με! Δώσε μου αξία γιατί με κοιτάς” Είναι ένα παιδιάστικο “Σου αρέσει ο πισινός μου;” Μα πάνω από όλα είναι ένα “εξευτέλισε με!” Όταν λοιπόν μια γυναίκα το κάνει, δεν είναι επανάσταση. Είναι αντίθετα, μια κραυγή που μυρίζει υποταγή κι απελπισία, γιατί δεν απευθύνεται σε κάποιο αντικείμενο του πόθου της, μα στα απρόσωπα πλήθη που υπάρχουν στην άλλη πλευρά της κάμερας, και που μετατρέπει άθελα της – και άθελα τους – σε ηδονοβλεψίες, σε λαθραναγνώστες του δικού της ιδιωτικού χώρου / σώματος που απο-ιεροποιεί από μόνη της, μετατρέποντας το σε ένα ακόμα Γρανάζι στη μηχανή που μειώνει τους άπατους ωκεανούς της γυναικείας φύσης και τους περιορίζει σε ένα κομμάτι της ανατομίας της, μετατρέποντας την σε ένα κομμάτι κρέας…

Η εμμονή με τους πισινούς είναι άλλωστε ένα χαρακτηριστικό της εποχής μας, γιατί ακριβώς εκφράζει τη ενδυνάμωση της Πατριαρχίας και την ανάγκη να ξαναμπούν οι γυναίκες πίσω στη θέση τους. Κι είναι μια “αισθητική” που καθορίστηκε μέσα από τα σύγχρονα πορνό, στα οποία οι περισσότεροι νεαροί άντρες – και όχι μόνο οι νεαροί – είναι κυριολεκτικά εθισμένοι. Και τα κορίτσια τα απελπισμένα για λίγη προσοχή που πρέπει να δουλέψουν σκληρά για να τη κερδίσουν, αφού έχουν να συναγωνιστούν τις πορνοστάρ οι οποίες είναι πάντα διαθέσιμες και έτοιμες με το πάτημα του “Play” στον υπολογιστή, έμαθαν να παίζουν το παιχνίδι καλά. Όταν λοιπόν ένα κορίτσι “απευθύνει” τον πισινό του στο κόσμο (lets face it, βασικά στους άντρες θεατές), οι συμβολισμοί είναι πολλαπλοί. Η δική της (ξανά όχι της συγκεκριμένη μα της οποιασδήποτε θεωρητικής κοπελιάς) “αντικειμενοποίηση” του πισινού της, είναι μια κραυγή απελπισίας που φωνάζει: “κάνε το μου έτσι όπως το κάνουν τα ζώα, έτσι που να μην βλέπεις το πρόσωπο μου, το ποια είμαι, το τι νιώθω, το πως αντιδρώ. Για να φανταστεις ότι/ όποια θέλεις. Για να μη μειωθεί η δική σου ευχαρίστηση από τις δικές μου ανθρώπινες αντιδράσεις! Γιατί δεν είμαι παρά ένα τίποτε…” (Δεν είναι άλλωστε τυχαίο το γεγονός ότι είναι το δημοφιλέστερο “είδος” σεξ που απεικονίζεται στο Game of Thrones, τη τηλεοπτική σειρά με τις βαθιά μισογυνιστικές τάσεις)

Όλες οι ερωτικές πράξεις που αποκλείουν το αντίκρισμα της συντρόφου του άντρα, είναι μια κραυγή υποταγής από μέρους της γυναίκας, μα πάνω απ’ όλα, είναι και ένα άλλοθι για τον άντρα που διψά για το απρόσωπο σεξ των πορνό, και είναι και συχνά και μια έκφραση του δικού του φόβου μπροστά στη απελευθερωμένη και ερωτικά απαιτητική γυναίκα που δεν μπορεί να την αντικρίσει στα ίσα (κυριολεκτικά και συμβολικά) και που επιθυμεί κατά βάθος να τη τιμωρήσει παρά να την ευχαριστήσει. Να την βάλει στη “θέση της”. Να της δείξει ποιο είναι το “αφεντικό” (παρεπιμπτόντως ΟΧΙ, δεν είναι όλες οι γυναίκες που φτιάχνονται με αυτή την ιδέα…) Είναι δηλαδή μια έκφραση αντρικής καταπιεσμένης ανασφάλειας και μισογυνισμού, που βρίσκει την μέγιστη ευχαρίστηση μέσα από τον εξευτελισμό της γυναίκας, μα είναι και συχνά και μια έκφραση των δικών του κρυφό-γκέι τάσεων που αδυνατεί να αντιμετωπίσει στα ίσα: το σεξ με μια γυναίκα γίνεται ευκολότερο αν δεν την βλέπει, αν δεν είναι παρά ένας ακέφαλος πισινός που θα μπορούσε νάναι κι αντρικός….

Το μήνυμα δίνεται από παντού, και είναι καμιά φορά μεταμφιεσμένο σαν σεξουαλική και φυλετική απελευθέρωση, όπως στη περίπτωση του ομολογουμένως πολύ catchy σουξέ της Meghan Trainor All About That Bass” που ενώ δηλώνει πως είναι ΟΚ το να μην είσαι “size two” (εξαιρετικά αδύνατη δηλαδή), προσθέτει ότι αυτό δε πειράζει, αν έχεις μεγάλο πισινό… Μειώνει δηλαδή ξανά τις γυναίκες με το να τις βλέπει απλά σα σκόρπια μέλη με συγκεκριμένες προδιαγραφές ποιότητας που οι άντρες της κάθε εποχής καθορίζουν και εγκρίνουν σαν κατάλληλες… Παρομοίως το φετινό και τρίτο sequel του πάλαι ποτέ εξαιρετικού “Barbershop”, (“Barbershop, the next cut”) είναι κάτι σαν “αφιέρωμα” στους μεγάλους πισινούς – με πρώτο και καλύτερο τον σεβαστού μεγέθους, της Nicki Minaj… Κι αν τα αστεία – ακόμα και τα χοντρά – μας έκαναν να γελούμε μέχρι δακρύων στα 2 πρώτα “Barbershop”, αυτό εδώ μας προκαλεί μέχρι και αηδία με το τρόπο που χειρίζεται το όλο θέμα…

Αν λοιπόν για ένα άντρα, ο ξεγυμνωμένος του πισινός φανερώνει όπως είπα, μια επανάσταση, για τη γυναίκα, δεν είναι παρά μια ακόμα επιβεβαίωση της υποταγής της στους πανάρχαιους της ρόλους. Είναι μια παράδωση της δύναμης της. Ενα παρακαλεστικό “Κοίτα με!”  Μια παραδοχή πως και ή ίδια εκλαμβάνεται τη αξία της σαν άτομο, μόνο μέσα από το σώμα της, και νιώθει δυνατή μόνο μέσα από την έγκριση που θα κερδίσει από την αντρική ματιά μόνο από το σώμα της. Είναι μια παραδοχή της υποταγής στο ρόλο αυτό που φυσικά την κάνει πιο επιθυμητή γιατί ακριβώς την “μετατρέπει” σε ένα σώμα, και της κλέβει τη φωνή, την επιλογή, τη δύναμη. Δεν είναι πλέον άνθρωπος, ένα σύνολο δηλαδή από σκέψεις και επιθυμίες και ταλέντα και παρελθόν και πληγές και όνειρα. Δεν έχει φωνή, άποψη, αδυναμίες, αγάπη, θυμό, οργή, αγανάκτηση, απαιτήσεις, δικαιώματα, φοβίες, ή δικές της συναισθηματικές και σεξουαλικές ανάγκες γιατί για κείνα τα λίγα δευτερόλεπτα, δε είναι παρά ένα κομμάτι κρέας. Απρόσωπο και γι αυτό ακριβώς το λόγο, επιθυμητό. Όπως ακριβώς οι δισδιάστατες γυναίκες στα τύπου Playboy περιοδικά, ή γυναίκες στη πορνογραφία ή τα ερωτικά comics, που υπάρχουν μόνο για όσο η αντρική επιθυμία γεννιέται και διαρκεί. Όταν σβήσει το monitor, όταν κλείσει το περιοδικό, εξαφανίζονται. Είναι “ετοιμοπαράδοτες”, εύχρηστες, ετοιμοπόλεμες, του χεριού του (in more ways than one…) Τις βρίσκει μόνο σαν τις έχει ο ίδιος ανάγκη. Υπάρχουν μόνο στο σύμπαν της φαντασίωσης του, και μόνο για όσο αυτή διαρκεί. Δεν υπάρχει αλισβερίσι, ανταποδοτικότητα, ή απαίτηση προσαρμογής στις ανάγκες ενός άλλου ανθρωπινού πλάσματος, γιατί ακριβώς δεν πρόκειται για ανθρώπινα πλάσματα, μα απλά για απεικονίσεις σωμάτων. Απρόσωπων, καμιά φορά και ακέφαλων σωμάτων, σκόρπιων μελών που κατασκευάστηκαν ειδικά προς κατανάλωση….

Οι νέοι άντρες μαθαίνουν το δικό τους σώμα μέσα από τέτοιες μονομερείς και για αυτό συναισθηματικά “ασφαλείς” για τους ίδιους εκτονώσεις που γεννιούνται από το πορνό, και οι νέες γυναίκες μαθαίνουν από νωρίς τους ρόλους τους σα “γλάστρες” στο ερωτικό αλισβερίσι. Σαν δηλαδή ωραίο θέαμα που σκοπό έχει να γεννήσει την επιθυμία, μα όχι κατά ανάγκη να την βιώσει. Το μειωμένο – για την ακρίβεια κατακρεουργημένο αυτοσυναίσθημα τους, που γεννιέται και από την σύγκριση με τις πορνοσταρ, και βρίσκει παρηγοριά και λόγο ύπαρξης μόνο εφόσον γίνονται θέαμα και στις (προφανώς πολλές τελευταία) περιπτώσεις, όπου γίνονται και εθελούσια θύματα μέσα σε ένα σαδομαζοχιστικό πλαίσιο, που βρίσκουν παρηγοριά και λύτρωση μόνο όταν ξυλοκοπούνται… Οι νέες γενιές μεγαλώνουν άλλωστε σε ένα κόσμο που όλα όσα οι παλιότερες γενιές θα έβρισκαν στην συντριπτική τους πλειοψηφία αποτρόπαια, αυτές έμαθαν να τα θεωρούν ερωτικά. Τα torture-porn, τα πορνό δηλαδή με σκηνές βασανισμών, ακρωτηριασμών και όλων των λογιών εξευτελισμών γυναικών, δεν είναι πλέον υποείδος για λίγους – πιθανώς διαταραγμένους – μα είναι πλέον μέρος της maintream κουλτούρας της εποχής μας, και μέρος της σεξουαλικής επικοινωνίας των νεαρών ζευγαριών, γιατί ακριβώς μεγαλώσαν μέσα σε ένα πλαίσιο όπου το αγόρι αυτοεπιβεβαιώνεται διαρκώς για την “εγκυρότητα” του ανδρισμού του μέσα από την έκφραση των σαδιστικών ένστικτων τα οποία μέσα στη ποπ κουλτούρα (όπως κάποτε μέσα στα θρησκευτικά πρότυπα) έγιναν συνώνυμα της αξίας του. Μέσα από την καθημερινή θέαση torture-porn δεν καταστρέφει απλά τις πιθανότητες να συνευρεθεί με ένα φυσιολογικό τρόπο με τη σύντροφο του, μα επιβεβαιώνει καθημερινά όλες τις σεξιστικές πεποιθήσεις του (βλ.: “οι γυναίκες είναι κατώτερα πλάσματα, τους αξίζει να τιμωρηθούν / ξυλοκοπηθούν / ακρωτηριαστούν / μαστιγωθούν / δολοφονηθούν” / “έχω δικαίωμα να το κάνω / “τους αξίζει” / “ειμαι το αφεντικό” / “ το γυρεύουν “ / “τους αρέσει κατά βάθος” (= γιατί φαίνεται να αρέσει στη πορνοστάρ που πληρώθηκε αδρά για να το προσποιηθεί) κλπ κλπ. Ενώ αντίθετα, το κορίτσι θυματοποιεί εθελούσια τον εαυτό της για να μην τυχών και φανεί οπισθοδρομική, ψυχρή (η μεγαλύτερη ρετσίνια), και για να μην μείνει μόνη (η απόλυτη αποτυχία). Βουτηγμένη στα πηγάδια της αυτολύπησης και του αυτομίσους, το θεωρεί σα το μόνο που της αξίζει έτσι κι αλλιώς. Η δε δική της, ανώριμη και γεμάτη αντιφάσεις κι ένοχες σεξουαλικότητα, παρέα με το ασχημάτιστο αυτοσυναίσθημα και όπως είπα τον παραλυτικό φόβο πως θα μείνει μόνη αν δεν υποταχτεί, αν δε φορέσει με χαρά το λουράκι του σκύλου στο λαιμό, αν δε κρεμαστεί με τσιγκέλι από το ταβάνι σα ένα κομμάτι κρέας σε κρεοπωλείο, κλπ κλπ, την μετατρέπουν εύκολα σε πρόθυμο θύμα.

Μεγαλωμένη η μέση κοπέλα της γενιάς αυτής σε μια “κουλτούρα” από trashy βιβλία τύπου “Fifty shades of Gray” που ρομαντικοποιούν τον σαδισμό, και στίχους ραπ τραγουδιών που βλέπουν τις γυναίκες μόνο σα εργαλεία, και ταινίες και τηλεοπτικές σειρές (διαβάστε το κείμενο μου “Από τον Hitcock στο Game of Thrones” για παραδείγματα) που τις επιβεβαιώνουν ότι δεν είναι παρά ένα σώμα, και η βία είναι λέει σέξι, και το να μην δέχεται το όχι σου ο άλλος είναι απόδειξη μεγάλου έρωτα, δέχεται τους παθητικούς της ρόλους, χωρίς πολλά πολλά. Κερδίζοντας μέσα από την θυματοποίηση της και τον σωματικό πόνο, μια διαστρεβλωμένη αίσθηση του σώματος της που έμαθε να μισά από παιδάκι. (Παρεμπιπτόντως, αν κάποιος τολμούσε να ζητήσει από μια γυναίκα παλιότερων γενιών (ηρεμήστε, εννοώ στα νιάτα της…) να κρεμαστεί από τον πολυέλαιο, αυτή θα απαντούσε: «Δε πα να κουρεύεσαι ψυχανώμαλε. Θα τηλεφωνήσω της αστυνομίας!!» Η μέση νεαρή σήμερα πιθανότατα θα πει: «ΟΚ. Πόσο ψηλά ακριβώς;»)

Η μονόχρωμη και περιοριστική ανάγκη του αγοριού λοιπόν, να αποδεικνύει την αξία του μέσα από το τρόπο που θυματοποιεί ή εξευτελίζει, βιάζει, τιμωρεί, μαστιγώνει, ξυλοφορτώνει ή απλά βάζει στη θέση τους τις γυναίκες – και όχι μόνο μέσα από την ερωτική πράξη) και από την άλλη, η ενοχική σεξουαλικότητα της μέσης νεαρής γυναίκας μα και η απέχθεια που νιώθει για το σώμα της που όσο όμορφο και νάναι είναι πάντα λιγότερο όμορφο από αυτό του κατοικεί μόνιμα στο μυαλό του ερωτικά ανώριμου συντρόφου της, των περιοδικών ή των πορνό με τις ρετουσαρισμένες εικόνες και τις πλαστικές, μα και το πόσο ταύτισε ολόκληρη την ύπαρξη της, όλο εαυτό της, με το σώμα της, μας έφερε εδώ…

Από τη μια, ο φόβος του άντρα ότι οι γυναίκες διεκδικούν τη κοινωνική / οικονομική του θέση, το αίσθημα αγάπης και μίσους που τρέφει προς τη μάνα του, ο φόβος του ότι θα εξουσιαστεί από μια άλλη γυναίκα (όπως εξουσιάζεται από τη μάνα του), ο πανικός του ότι μπορεί και να αναγκαστεί να προσαρμόσει τις δικές του ανάγκες, να αλλάξει, να περιοριστεί μπροστά στα θέλω κάποιου άλλου, αλλά και κυρίως το ότι ποτέ και κανένας δε του ζήτησε ποτέ να ωριμάσει, και να διανοηθεί πως πρέπει να προσαρμοστεί σε κάποιου άλλου τις ανάγκες, κι από την άλλη, η επιθυμία της γυναίκας να είναι επιθυμητή ακόμα κι όταν η ίδια είναι ερωτικά αδιάφορη, ή όταν θυματοποιείται, εξευτελίζεται, μειώνεται ή ακόμα και κινδυνεύει, και ο πανικός της πως δε θα παντρευτεί (κι όταν παντρευτεί, δε θα κρατήσει το ενδιαφέρον του άντρα της) αν δεν είναι πρόθυμη να παίξει το παιγνίδι της υποταγής, είναι αυτό που διαιωνίζει σήμερα το χάσμα ανάμεσα στα φύλα… Η επικοινωνία τους, είναι γι αυτό κατά βάθος “αυτιστική”, μονομερής, γιατί όντως δεν είναι ίσοι την ώρα τις συνεύρεσης. Μα είναι και συναισθηματικά “ασφαλής” γι αυτό και δημοφιλής: η γυναίκα στο αλισβερίσι των φυλετικών σχέσεων μετατρέπεται σε παροχέα του θεάματος παρά σε δέκτη ηδονής. Η σχέση γίνεται μια μονόπλευρη και κενή συναλλαγή που βασίζεται ακριβώς στο γεγονός ότι οι γυναίκες μεγαλώνουν σε ένα κόσμο που της επιβεβαιώνει από παντού πως δεν είναι παρά σώματα, και πως η αξία τους μετριέται μόνο και για όσο το σώμα τους έχει τις προδιαγραφές ποιότητας που τα αντροκρατούμενα media επιβάλλουν σαν κατάλληλες. Κι είναι μια θλιβερή κληρονομιά, μια σκυτάλη- βόμβα που παραδίδεται από μητέρα σε κόρη από τα πρώτα κιόλας χρόνια του κοριτσιού. Το μήνυμα είναι ξεκάθαρο: αν σε αγαπήσουν θαναι για το σώμα σου και μόνο. Κι αν σε απορρίψουν θαναι για το σώμα σου και μόνο, και θάναι φυσικά δικό σου φταίξιμο γιατί δε προσπάθησες αρκετά να το διορθώσεις με δίαιτες και πλαστικές και γυμναστικές και όλα τα όργανα του γυναικείου μαρτυρίου – που έκαναν παρεμπιπτόντως πολλούς άντρες εκατομμυριούχους.

Η τραγική ειρωνία είναι πως μέσα σε αυτό το πλαίσιο, είναι μόνο οι “ασχημούλες” που αγαπιούνται (αν αγαπηθούν) αληθινά! “Αληθινά” με την έννοια όχι απλα για τα σκόρπια μέλη τους και για όσο εννοείται αυτά είναι “πρώτης ποιότητος”, μα σαν ολοκληρωμένα ανθρώπινα πλάσματα: σαν ένα σύνολο από απόψεις, μυαλό, καρδιά, ανάγκες, πληγές, ικανότητες, και ναι, και σώμα. Αυτό κι είναι είναι ειρωνία!!! (Τόξεραν κι οι Τζέην Ώστην κι οι Μπροντε αυτό, και επέμεναν να μας παρουσιάζουν τις ασχημούλες “plain” και έξυπνες και ανεξάρτητες ηρωίδες τους, να αγαπιούνται πιο πολύ από τις καλλονές… ) Και είναι αυτό το μοναδικό είδος αγάπης που δεν γερνά, δε φθείρεται και δε “ξεπερνιέται” γιατί δεν ακολουθεί την σίγουρη και αναπόφευχτη πορεία του σώματος και της ομορφιάς προς τη φθορά. Και είναι αυτό το “μοντέλο” έρωτα, και το είδος ανώτερου συντρόφου, που θάπρεπε να διδάσκουμε στις νέες να στοχεύουν, παρά το να “αρπάζουν” ότι σκουπίδι βρουν, μην και τυχόν μείνουν μόνες…

«Σ’ αγαπώ γιατί είσαι ωραία» λέει το λαϊκό άσμα… Και οι γυναίκες με το τραυματισμένο αυτοσυναίσθημα, το πιστεύουν με ευκολία, και αν δεν το ακούσαν ποτέ, το ονειρεύονται. Χωρίς να ρωτούν «Κι αν καμιά φορά δεν είμαι, τότε τι χαμπάρια;» ή “και η άλλη τύπισσα που είναι και κεινη όμορφη;», ή “Και συ που δεν είσαι ωραίος, πρέπει να σταματήσω να σε αγαπώ;” Μα οι γυναίκες δε το πολυπαιδευουν. Απλά θέλουν νάχουν καποιο να τους απαλύνει το φόβο με κομπλιμέντα. Εκτος κι αν είναι έξυπνες. Έκτος κι αν έχουν αυτοπεποίθηση. Εκτός κι αν το αγαπούν το σώμα που τις κουβαλά, στις καλές και τις «άσχημες», σύμφωνα με το κοινό κριτήριο, φάσεις του. Όποτε το θεωρούν βρισιά, κι όχι κομπλιμέντο το εν λόγω άσμα… Μα ο μύθος είναι στέρεος και θέλει τις γυναίκες που αντιστέκονται στο παραμύθι της ομορφιάς σαν το απόλυτο κριτήριο της αξίας τους, νάναι λέει άσχημες, και γι αυτό πικραμένες. Για τη ακρίβεια είναι πολύ συχνά ακριβώς το αντίθετο… Η Gloria Stein, η Naomi Wolf, η Maureen Dawd, η Germaine Greer, που έγραψαν τόσα για το πόσο η προσκόλληση στο σώμα και την ομορφιά είναι για τις γυναίκες μια φυλακή, υπήρξαν και είναι καλλονές. Μα επίσης, υπήρξαν και είναι έξυπνες, οξυδερκείς, θαρραλέες γυναίκες, που είπαν ένα αληθινό (όχι γιαλατζί…) και βροντερό “fuck you!” στους άντρες και στο σύστημα που τις μείωσαν, και που αντιστάθηκαν στο μύθο που λέει πως οι γυναίκες δεν είμαστε παρά μόνο σώματα και η αξία μας μετριέται μόνο μέσα από την ομορφιά μας, μέσα από τα σκόρπια ακέφαλα μας μέλη και όσα έχουμε να πούμε στο κόσμο πρέπει να τα πούμε με αυτά…. Όχι πως όσα έγραψαν οι “λιγότερο” όμορφες, αναιρούνται ακριβώς γιατί δεν ήταν καλλονες, φυσικά. (Μια δόση από Andrea Dorkin θάπρεπε κατα τη γνώμη μου νάταν υποχρεωτική για κάθε γενιά κοριτσιών….) Είναι άλλωστε χαρακτηριστικό των συναισθηματικά έξυπνων γυναικών και των συναισθηματικά ώριμων ανθρώπων (και των δύο φύλων) η απελευθέρωση του έρωτα από την κλειστοφοβική φυλακή της εμφάνισης που θεωρούν “ομορφο” αυτό που αγαπούν! Μακάρι να το μάθαιναν τούτο το πολύτιμο οι γονείς στις κόρες μα και τους γιούς τους!!!

Μα ο μύθος είναι δυνατός και όσο κι αν υπήρχε από πάντα, επιστρέφει δυνατότερος σε εποχές (όπως τη δική μας) που η Πατριαρχία δυναμώνει. Κι η εμπέδωση του μηνύματος αυτού ξεκινά από πολύ νωρίς: οι μητέρες παγκόσμια, θηλάζουν ας πούμε τις κόρες του για λιγότερο διάστημα απ’ ότι τους γιους τους, και τους δίνουν σημαντικά λιγότερη «δόση» γάλακτος για όσο διάστημα διαρκεί ο θηλασμός! Ακόμα και σα νεογέννητα μωράκια, τα κοριτσάκια πρέπει να το αποδεχτούν δηλαδή το μήνυμα πως 1) δεν αξίζουν και πολλά και 2) η αξία τους μετριέται με τη «ποιότητα» του σώματος τους (βλ. δε πρέπει να ναι παχουλά), μα και 3) η στέρηση θάναι κομμάτι της ζωής τους… Η πείνα τους τιμωρείται, ενώ η πείνα των αγοριών (όπως και των αντρών) επιβραβεύεται! Η πείνα τους για φαϊ, μα και για όνειρα, γνώση, φιλοδοξία, έρωτα, επιτυχίες, λεφτά, αναγνώριση, ελευθερία, δικαιοσύνη, ανεξαρτησία) πρέπει να μείνει για πάντα καταπιεσμένη. Αν είναι να αγαπηθούν. Άλλωστε αυτό το μήνυμα πως η ζωή ανήκει σε όσες έχουν το μυαλό στο σώμα τους, το δίνουν οι γυναίκες στις κόρες τους και με το δικό τους παράδειγμα: με τη διαρκή δυσαρέσκεια τους με το δικό τους σώμα, τις αιώνιες δίαιτες τους και το ανελέητο πόλεμο που στήνουν με το σώμα τους και τα σημάδια του φαγητού ή του χρόνου πάνω του, σε ολόκληρη τη ζωή τους, μα και με το πόσο αυστηρά και συχνά άκαρδα κρίνουν τις ατέλειες των άλλων γυναικών…

Ακόμα και η χειρότερη μάνα του πλανήτη, αυτή που παραμέλησε, εγκατάλειψε, κακοποίησε τη κόρη της, θα φροντίσει πρώτα να της μάθει να μισά το σώμα της, με το να της πει να μην τρώει πολύ, να μην κάθεται ή να μην περπατά με αυτό, ή εκείνο τον τρόπο, να ντύνεται καλύτερα, να φορά τακούνια, να το θεωρεί φυσικό το πως πρέπει να αλλάξει με χίλιους δυο τρόπους για να γίνει αρεστή. Γιατί αυτό που είναι, είναι εντέλει και πάντα ανεπαρκές… Γιατί η ίδια νιώθει νάναι ανεπαρκής… Κι επίσης το πως η μοναδική ευκαιρία που θα έχει να «πετύχει» στη ζωή της είναι αν κερδίσει την έγκριση κάποιου άντρα μέσα ακριβώς από το σώμα της. Κι αυτό το τελευταίο αν δε το μάθει από την μάνα της, θα το μάθει από τα περιοδικά, τον κινηματογράφο, τη pop κουλτούρα, τη μόδα. Γι αυτό και θα μάθει από νωρίς να μη στέκεται όρθια μπροστά σε όσα τη μειώνουν, και με θάρρος, δύναμη, ευγλωττία, εξυπνάδα, αυτοπεποίθηση, γνώσεις να υπερασπίζεται τον εαυτό της, κάθε φορά που αυτός αμφισβητείται ή κινδυνεύει, μα θα το κάνει με το μάκρος της φούστα της, το πόσο μπούστο φανερώνει, με το χρώμα των μαλλιών της, με τα τακούνια της, ή με το να ξεγυμνώσει το στήθος ή το πισινό της… (Γιατί στο τέλος της μέρας δεν είναι παρά ένα στήθος, ένας πισινός…)

Η πράξη λοιπόν του εν λόγω κοριτσιού ίσως νάναι μια πράξη μιας κοπελιάς που μεγάλωσε μέσα σε μια κουλτούρα που περισσότερο παρά ποτέ, όχι μόνο εξευτελίζει την γυναίκα και την επανατοποθετεί στο παλιό κάλο της ρόλο του σώματος-και-τίποτε-άλλο, μα το χειρότερο, την καλεί να το κάνει η ίδια στον εαυτό της.

Κι είναι γι αυτό που της το συγχωρούμε το ατόπημα.

Μα είναι και για αυτό που μας εξοργίζει…

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Η Γενιά του Κοριτσιού με το Μουστάκι – Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications.
www.fanitsa-petrou.com
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Η Νέα Τάξη

Μα ποιος τους βλέπει αλήθεια τους απελπισμένους όταν υπάρχει κάπου εκεί έξω η Madison Avenue με τα αστραφτερά brands, και τα εμετικά ρητά του Κουέλιο να σε διαβεβαιώνουν πως όλα όσα θέλεις σου αξίζουν κιόλας. Όταν υπάρχει κάπου εκεί έξω ένα ολόκληρο σύμπαν που συνωμοτεί λέει για σένα…

Scan 11

Η Νέα Τάξη

 της Φανίτσας Πέτρου

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Άλλαξε ο τόπος μας. Άλλαξαν οι άνθρωποι, οι προσδοκίες τους, οι αρχές τους, το βλέμμα τους. Γιατί άλλαξε η τσέπη τους. Τόσο απλό.

Τα θυμάστε εκείνα τα χρόνια των ‘90ς; Τότε που όλοι – εκτός από μια χούφτα ανθρώπων, ήμασταν μικρομεσαίοι, και ζούσαμε τις ζωές μας χωρίς την έννοια της ξαφνικής ανατροπής; Τότε που ψωνίζαμε με cash, και το περίσσευμα το βάζαμε στη τράπεζα που δεν μας έμπαινε καν στο νου ότι θα μας το έκλεβε; Τότε που δεν το αποφάσιζαν πολλοί να κτίσουν επαύλεις με λεφτά που δεν είχαν. Τότε που πήγαινες στο εξωτερικό να σπουδάσεις χωρίς να συνοδεύεσαι από την μαμά, τον μπαμπά και όλο σου το σόι… Τότε που οι γυναίκες ένιωθαν όμορφες και με χαμηλά τακούνια και γιατί όχι, με ρούχα που ήταν και καμιά φορά φαρδιά κι (Άκουσον! Ακουσον!) άνετα… Τότε που όταν οι γυναίκες μεγάλωναν εξακολουθούσαν να έχουν το δικό τους πρόσωπο, απλά με περισσότερες ρυτίδες. Τότε που το να φοράς ρούχα σε παιδικό μέγεθος μας φαινόταν από γελοίο μέχρι αρρωστημένο, παρά στόχος ζωής, και το να φοράς ψεύτικα νύχια ήταν κιτς… Τότε που πηγαίναμε στη θάλασσα χαλαρά, χωρίς να μας περνάει από το νου να βάλουμε ψηλοτάκουνα, και make up…

Τότε που η οικονομία μας ήταν μικρή, γι’ αυτό και δυνατή, χωρίς περιπλοκές και εκ των έξω επιδράσεις. Εκείνες τις αθώες εποχές που υπήρχαν εργοστάσια επίπλων και ρούχων και κατασκευών κάθε λογής. Τότε που υπήρχαν καφέ, κι εστιατόρια, και μπουτίκς και ζαχαροπλαστεία που δεν ανήκαν σε αλυσίδες, μα σε άτομα. Ναι, υπήρχε ταβάνι πάνω από το κεφάλι μας. Ναι, μπορούσαμε να ανοιχτούμε μόνο όσο η μικρή αγορά μας το επέτρεπε: υπήρχαν όρια στο κόσμο μας.  Ζούσαμε δηλαδή άνετες καλές ζωές, μα δε μπορούσαμε γίνουμε κι εκατομμυριούχοι. Γι αυτό και φυσικά δε θα μπορούσε να αντέξει για πολλή ένα τέτοιο μοντέλο. Όλο το κεφάλαιο που κυκλοφορούσε, μόνος ένας τρόπος υπήρχε για να συγκεντρωθεί στα χέρια των λίγων που το λιμπίζονταν το σπάσιμο του ταβανιού: να μετατραπούν οι οικογενειακές επιχειρήσεις σε δημόσιες εταιρίες. Και σαν αρχίσει να συμβαίνει αυτό, δεν υπάρχει γυρισμός.

Την πρώτη ευφορία για τα ξαφνικά, και άκοπα επιτέλους κέρδη από το παίξιμο στο χρηματιστήριο, ακολούθησε η κατρακύλα και εντέλει το αναπόφευκτο άνοιγμα των πυλών στις πολυεθνικές. Τη θυμάστε εκείνη τη τρέλα με το Χακ; Τότε που μέχρι κι οι γιαγιούλες στα χωριά έτρεχαν να ακουμπήσουν το κομπόδεμα τους για να αγοράσουν μετοχές της Δήμητρας; Τους τόλεγε και το κόμμα άλλωστε. Προσταγή κανονική. Πως να μην το κάνουν; Τότε ήταν που άρχισε η αντίστροφη μέτρηση. (Κι ας το ξεχάσαμε…) Τότε που άρχισε να μεγαλώνει επικίνδυνα η πείνα των λαμόγιων… Τότε που αρχινούσαμε κι οι υπόλοιποι να συνηθίζουμε την ατιμωρησία…

Το ίδιο σενάριο παίχτηκε άλλωστε σε πολλές χώρες που ξεφορτώθηκαν τη μεσαία τάξη για να ενισχύσουν το 1%. Τα μπακάλικα της γειτονιάς έκλεισαν ένα ένα, το καταστηματάκι που πουλούσε χειροποίητα πραγματάκια που δημιουργούσε μια κοπελιά με τα χέρια της (και ήταν όντως καλή στη δουλεία της παρα ψώνιο που ψάρευε Likes στα social media…), ο φούρνος, το ζαχαροπλαστείο που έφτιαχνε γλυκά που δεν ήταν της κατάψυξης, οι μπουτίκς, τα καταστήματα δώρων, διακοσμητικών, ηλεκτρικών συσκευών, παιγνιδιών, που αγόραζαν το στοκ τους από Κυπριακές βιοτεχνίες κι εργοστάσια, (γιατί ναι υπήρχαν πολλά τέτοια), ή έκαναν δικές τους εισαγωγές, συνήθως από Ευρωπαϊκές χώρες, γι αυτό και πουλούσε το καθένα πράγματα που δεν έβρισκες αλλού. Τα καταστήματα που λειτουργούσαν με ένα δυο υπαλλήλους, και που ήξεραν τους πελάτες τους με τ’ όνομα τους, όλα κλείσαν για να δώσουν χώρο στα πολυκαταστήματα, στις αλυσίδες, στα malls, στα μεγαθήρια που πωλούν τα πανομοιότυπα  προϊόντα τους χωρίς ανταγωνισμό πλέον, και που τα βρίσκει κανείς – ίδια κι απαράλλακτα – σε όλες της χώρες της Ευρώπης. Μπήκαμε και μεις στο σύστημα της παγκοσμιοποίησης. Γίναμε ένα ακόμα γρανάζι στη μηχανή που κτίστηκε για να διατηρεί το lifestyle με τα ιδιωτικά αεροπλάνα και τα ιδιωτικά νησιά κάποιων λίγων που θα κάναν και το παν για να το διατηρήσουν.

Κι έτσι όπως γίνεται πάντα, χωρίστηκε ξαφνικά κι η δική μας κοινωνία σε τάξεις. Η κοινωνία μας που δεν ήταν ποτέ ταξική γιατί όλοι, λίγο ως πολύ, καταγόμαστε από την ίδια ακριβώς ρίζα: από κάποιο όχι και τόσο μακρινό, όσο μερικοί θα ήθελαν να μας πείσουν, χειρωνάκτη πρόγονο, που πολεμούσε με τη γη σε κάποιο χωριό της υπαίθρου. Μα τώρα, ποιος τους θυμάται πια τέτοιους παππούδες; Κι ας διαιωνίζονται μέσα από τα επίθετα μας που προδίδουν συχνά τη ρίζα που πασχίζουν κάποιοι να ξεχάσουν: Στις λεζάντες των κοσμικών στηλών περιοδικών: “η Βερόνικα-Νεφέλη Χατζηττόπουζου”, με Alexander Mc Queen jumpsuit, ή η Μαρί-Άντρια Κομοδρόμου-Τσαγκάρη, με Vivienne Westwood Anglomania Tartan Cape, ή ο Ρολάντος Αχάπαρος, με Burberry, lambskin Bomber Jacket, στα εγκαίνια της τάδε και της δείνα κοσμικής έκθεσης… (Τα σκαρφίστηκα τα ονόματα το ορκίζομαι μα δεν απέχουν από τη πραγματικότητα)

Τώρα γεννιέται μια νέα τάξη που είναι σου λέει “ανώτερη”. Που ποζάρει  στα lifestyle περιοδικά κι απαντά σε ερωτήσεις του τύπου “ποιος είναι ο αγαπημένος σου προορισμός;” (εννιά στις δέκα φορές, η Νέα Υόρκη) και “ποιος είναι ο αγαπημένος σου συγγραφέας;” (δέκα στις δέκα φορές, ο Παόλο Κουέλιο –όντως “πήρε πολλή κόσμο στο λαιμό του”ο άτιμος. Μα πάντα ομολογουμένως, τον ίδιο κόσμο…) με ύφος σταρ. Σίγουρη πως αξίζει τη προσοχή που της δίνεται. Απλά γιατί έχει (ή πιθανώς παντρεύτηκε) λεφτά.

Μια νέα τάξη που έχει ξαφνικά την πεποίθηση πως είναι πάνω από τους υπόλοιπους. Μια νέα τάξη αλαζόνων, άκαρδων αντρών, που χάσανε κάθε επαφή με τη ψυχή τους, και που μετρούν τη αξία τους με τις μάρκες των αυτοκινήτων και ρολογιών τους, και τη σειρά των αραδιασμένων μηδενικών στα statement των λογαριασμών τους, που ένας Θεός ξέρει πως αραδιάστηκαν… Οι κύριοι με τα καλοραμμένα Ιταλικά κοστούμια τους, τα περιποιημένα γενάκια τους και το ένστικτο καρχαρία. Οι κύριοι με τις trophy wives τους, που τις κερατώνουν στα κρυφά με απελπισμένες Ρωσίδες και Βαλκάνιες καλλονές, που γυρεύουν και κείνες τη λύση στα δικά τους προβλήματα που δημιουργήθηκαν από τα απανωτά κτυπήματα που δέχτηκαν κάποιες άλλες μακρινές οικονομίες χρόνια πριν… Οι κύριοι με τις ναρσισιστικές διαταραχές και την πλήρη άγνοια της ασημαντότητας τους, που εξαγοράζουν τη ενοχή τους με μια σειρά πιστωτικών καρτών…

Και μια νέα τάξη γυναικών που αν δεν είναι οι νεαρές trophy wives των πιο πάνω, είναι οι αιώνια και εθελούσια πεινασμένες, μποτοξομένες, παραμορφωμένες από τις πολλές πλαστικές, πρώην τους (Το πρώτο που πράγμα που γυρεύουν να αγοράσουν όσοι κάνουν λεφτά, ειδικά οι γυναίκες, είναι άλλωστε πάντα τα νιάτα τους. Μα τα άτιμα, δεν αγοράζονται πίσω για κανένα μας, όσα κι αν πληρώσεις. Το πολλή πολλή να αγοράσεις μια θλιβερή παρωδία τους. Μια παραμορφωμένη εκδοχή τους…) Τυλιγμένες μέσα στα πανάκριβα συνολάκια τους, αποδέχονται με αυταρέσκεια το ρόλο της “Style icon” που τους αποδίδουν οι συντάκτες των περιοδικών, έχοντας το νου στα διαφημιστικά κοντύλια που βασίζονται στη καταναλωτική μανία τους. Μια νέα τάξη γυναικών που αναζητούν λόγο ύπαρξης σε μαθήματα ζωγραφικής, και self-help θεωρίες, και απανωτές ανακαινίσεις, και πιλάτες, και arts & crafts projects με στρασαδιασμένες τσάντες και θήκες τηλεφώνων τίνγκα στα σβαρόφσκι που έχουν το θράσος να πουλούν στις φιλενάδες τους (και γι αυτό να δηλώνουν “καλλιτέχνες), και που δίνουν για λίγους έστω μήνες, σκοπό στη μέρα τους. Που κάνουν δηλώσεις του τύπου “εμένα η αδυναμία μου είναι οι τσάντες!” και περιμένουν να προσκυνήσεις μπροστά στο πνεύμα τους, στο γούστο, τους, στο πόσο εντέλει μοιάζουν με την Victoria Beckham και τις Kardashians, γιατί και εκείνες κάτι τέτοια έξυπνα λένε όλη την ώρα. Οι κυρίες που ζουν τις αργές νωχελικές ζωές τους σε σπα και γυμναστήρια, κυνηγώντας με τα μανίας το χρόνο που τις ζώνει από παντού.

Οι κυρίες οι γεμάτες ευθιξίες και παράπονα, και πονοκεφάλους, που είναι πάντα πολύ busy και κατάκοπες και depressed, και που έχουν για κύρια εργασία τους, το κάματο της ομορφιάς τους. Kαι δεν είναι και λίγο… Κανονική δουλειά είναι, αν το πάρεις στα σοβαρά… Η ζωή τους ολόκληρη, ένας σισύφειος αγώνας να μη γεράσουν και μην παχύνουν (ο διπλός σκοτεινός εφιάλτης τους) Να μην αντικατασταθούν δηλαδή με ένα νεαρότερο μοντέλο από τον παροχέα των προνομίων τους, που δεν τις αγάπησε έτσι κι αλλιώς για αυτό που είναι, μα γι αυτό που δείχνουν – και μόνο για όσο συνεχίζουν να το δείχνουν… Που δεν είναι στα μάτια του παρά σκόρπια ακέφαλα μέλη. Κι η βεβαιότητα αυτή, είναι από μόνη της όπως φαίνεται μεγάλο κίνητρο για να σε κάνει να αντέχεις τη χρόνια πείνα σου, και το αγωνιστικό πρόγραμμα Ολυμπιονίκη. Οι κυρίες με τα Καλοκαίρια με τις ατέλειωτες μέρες διακοπών, και τους Χειμώνες με τις πολυδιαφημισμένες φιλανθρωπίες τους, που αποδεικνύουν τα όσα κι ο life coach τους βεβαίωνε άλλωστε: το πόσο δηλαδή είναι άνθρωποι «ξεχωριστοί», «πνευματικοί», γεμάτοι «αγάπη». Άλλωστε η φιλανθρωπία που δε θα διαφημιστεί, που δε θα σε φέρει στα κανάλια, που δε θα σου εξασφαλίσει followers και Likes είναι κάτι σαν το δέντρο που πέφτει μόνο του στο δάσος: την έκανες άραγε αν δε σε είδε κανείς να την κάνεις;

Και στην αντίπερα όχθη, οι στρατιές των καϋμένων. Ο πολύς κόσμος που βίωσε κούρεμα καταθέσεων και μείωση μισθών, που είδε τις δουλειές του να κλείνουν, τα όνειρα του να αναιρούνται, τη ζωή του να μικραίνει και που το καταπίνει πλέον το χάπι με ευκολία πως πρέπει να δουλεύει και Σαββατοκύριακα κι αργίες για να βγάλει τα μισά από όσα κάποτε έβγαζε δουλευωντας τις μισές ώρες. Στην αντίπερα όχθη, τα καταστήματα που πωλούν Κινέζικα προϊόντα σε τιμές εξευτελιστικές, καθώς είναι αποτέλεσμα της σύγχρονης δουλείας που έχει μόνο έσοδα για τους σκλαβέμπορους του Νέου Κόσμου, κάνοντας το και αδύνατο το να μπορείς να πωλήσεις οτιδήποτε φτιάχνεται πλέον εδώ, με κόστα μιας χώρας με ψηλό κόστος ζωής και προδιαγραφές ποιότητας και μισθούς… Στην αντίπερα όχθη, οι άνεργοι, οι επιχειρήσεις που κλείσαν και που δεν κουβαλούσαν απλά το οικονομικό μέλλον ανθρώπων, μα και τα όνειρα τους. Τα παζαράκια με τα από δεύτερο χέρι ρούχα, οι υπαίθριες αγορές με τις απλωμένες παλιοπραγμάτιες στο χώμα, τα συσσίτια στα προαύλια των εκκλησιών, τα κοινοτικά παντοπωλεία, οι άνθρωποι με τα νικημένα βλέμματα. Πράγματα δηλαδή που δεν είχαμε ποτέ στη Κύπρο, γιατί δεν υπήρχαν ποτέ τόσοι άνθρωποι απελπισμένοι…

Μα ποιος τους βλέπει αλήθεια τους απελπισμένους όταν υπάρχει κάπου εκεί έξω η Madison Avenue με τα αστραφτερά brands, και τα εμετικά ρητά του Κουέλιο να σε διαβεβαιώνουν πως όλα όσα θέλεις σου αξίζουν κιόλας;

Όταν υπάρχει κάπου εκεί έξω ένα ολόκληρο σύμπαν που συνωμοτεί λέει για σένα;

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Η Νέα Τάξη – Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications.

27 Ιούνη, 2016

ART by Fanitsa: www.fanitsa-petrou.com
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Διαβάστε επίσης:  http://wp.me/s7jQTY-297

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HOW TO LIVE A GOOD LIFE – I

Unless you are a doctor on call, the parent of a new-born baby, the president of your country, or a secret agent about to prevent a nuclear explosion, don’t answer your mobile when you are a guest in someone else’ s home. The Earth will go on spinning, even though you’ve missed a call.

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How to live a good Life – I 

Art & words by Fanitsa Petrou

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Be grateful. Be kind. Be moral. Be fearless. Be patient.

Live the moment. Be considerate. Be charitable. Be political. Be a feminist. Support good causes. Fight for your rights. Fight for others. Be a realist. Listen!

Call rather than text.

Eat without guilt. Love without fear.

Know that you can’ t control everything that happens to you.

Know that no matter how much you try to avoid it, bad things will happen. Randomly.

Know that when things look really bad, they could have been far worse – and for countless people, they are! Count your blessings! Know that there are millions of people in the world who have worse problems than yours. (And on top of that, no running water!)

Stop thinking that having money is the key to your happiness: have you EVER seen a genuinely happy rich person?

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Know that no matter what you do, you WILL age. And it won’ t be pretty. It happens to everyone, deal with it.

Read more. Cook more. Eat more. (It’s good for your soul)

Know that if you find yourself counting the hours ‘till the time you get home from work, the days ’till the weekend, the months ‘till vacation, the years ’till retirement, then it’s time to make a change.

Know that the price you pay for having security is higher than what you gain from it. Always. ALWAYS! Every fucking time.

Stop obsessing about your looks.

Stop wanting things to be just “so”.

Stop trying to avoid making mistakes. Stop looking for mistakes in others.

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Know that you are worthy of love.

Know that not everybody can love you. Or even like you.

Know that you are important. Know that you are not the centre of the universe.

Know that not every relationship has a happy ending  – don’t let that stop you from having it.

Know that you can never go back.

Know that it’s OK to screw up. Know that everybody screws up. Know that it’s OK to lose your temper. Know that it’s OK to cry. Know that it’s OK to age. Know that it’s OK to put on weight. (Those who truly love you will still do. Plus it’s one hell of a way to know if they ever really did love YOU or your various body parts, and even then, only at their prime…)

 

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Forgive yourself. Forgive others. Ask for forgiveness.

Leave your childhood behind. Look ahead. Move on.

Be loyal to your friends, family and principles, but update your goals.

Read novels, rather than self-help books (they can teach you more about real life!)

Have a moral code, rather than a religion.

Live your life with integrity.

Call your mum more often.

Have a break. Have a nap. Have a good cry. Have some pie (It’s  OK!)

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Choose your battles. Choose a job you love to do. Choose a partner who deserves your respect.

Be extra kind to: people who have helped you, or are doing you a favour; people who have invited you to their home; people who know more than you do; people who love you – even if you don’t love them back; people who are older than you; people who are in need, are sick / poor / homeless; people who clean your bathroom; people who are your mum.

Know that all families are dysfunctional.

Know that nobody is happy all the time.

Know that marriage is not for everyone.

Know that your version of perfection is not the only one.

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Every once in a while, change your routine (if you do, you will discover that things will start to happen).

Know that having money, doesn’t entitle you to treat people like they are beneath you. Know that not having money, doesn’t make you less important than the rest.

Be aware of your motives. Be conscious of your thoughts. Think before you speak. Listen to what you are saying. Listen to what the other person is saying. Try!

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Don’t let the fear of the future destroy your present.

Don’t be defined by how much money you have. Don’t be defined by what others think of you. Don’t express who you are, mostly by your clothes / shoes. Don’t judge others, mostly by their clothes / shoes.

If you are feeling rotten, don’t count it out that you are not actually depressed, but just dissatisfied with your life at the moment. Or possibly hungry…

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Open your home to friends. Share your secrets. Show your love. Allow others to love you.

Love your body. Sharpen your mind. Feed your soul. 

Dream big. Work hard. Take risks. Know yourself. Spend money. Be messy. Sing aloud. Give hugs. Remember birthdays. Celebrate your own. Offer presents. Support your friends.

Don’t be a racist. Don’t be a fattist. Don’t be an ageist. Don’t be mean. Don’t be needy. Don’t be pretentious. Don’t be a taker. Don’t be stingy – with money and emotions.

Bake cakes. Eat vegetables. Eat ice creams. Take walks. Plant flowers. Allow change. Help those who need you.

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Don’t get married unless you fall in love AND are prone to compromising.

Know that the more you will understand about Life, then the more you will realise: Love is just not enough…

Don’t believe every compliment. Stop using compliments to gain affection. Stop needing compliments in order to feel like you are worthy.

Know that if you spend a lot of time trying to explain yourself to your partner, that’s because s/he doesn’t get you. And probably because s/he can’t.

Know that being loved by someone does not necessarily mean you deserve it. It is not a compliment, it is someone’s life and can sometimes be evidence of how loving THEY are (rather than how lovable YOU are…): become worthy of the love you receive! Or at the very least, respect those who offer it.

On the other hand, know that loving someone, can be evidence of how loving YOU are, rather than how worthy the loved one is: which is to say, no matter how much you wish or need it, those you love, cannot always return your love. Find a way to survive this realisation! (Not to mention, more often than any of us would care we admit, what we see as ‘eternal” all consuming love, is nothing but neediness and / or lust…)

Don’t make your life smaller, by seeing it as a side-show of someone else’s journey.

Know that if you fall in love with someone who doesn’t return your calls, or want to meet you, that’ s because s/he is not interested. (Nobody can be persuaded, or forced into loving you. And no, the passing of time will not make them love you either).

But know that time does indeed heal all wounds.

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Don’t confuse love, with lust. Don’t confuse love, with the need to be accepted. Don’t confuse love, with the need to not be alone. Don’t confuse love, with the need for a little bit of romance.  Don’t confuse love, with the need to get married / have kids. And if you are a woman, don’t confuse love, with the need to see yourself as the center of attention at a great party with elaborate flower arrangements, and in one killer of a wedding gown.

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Keep away from people who have hobbies, strong religious notions, or opinions about a woman’ s “morals”. Sooner or later, they’ll want to talk about them, and attempt to convert or shame you.

Trust “broken” people. (The dreamers, the depressives, the alcoholics, the eaters, the criers, the lost causes of the world) Only those who have a heart, and who are generous with it, can end up with it being broken…

And BTW, never trust anyone who has remained the same size for decades – if they can live without food, God only knows what they are capable of… 

Don’t get all your info from the Internet. Open a book every once in a while.

Don’t go empty-handed when you are invited to a dinner party.

Don’t waste your life trying to change what cannot be changed.

Never assume people are your inferiors just because they have different priorities.

Never assume that your time is more precious than the other person’s.

Don’t text or check your Facebook page /Twitter feed while being with friends, or people who are giving you their time.

Unless you are a doctor on call, the parent of a new-born baby, the president of your country, or a secret agent about to prevent a nuclear explosion, don’t answer your mobile when you are a guest in someone else’ s home. The Earth will go on spinning, even though you’ve missed a call. (Remember, there were parents and families and relationships and friendships that worked fine, even before there were smart phones)

Know that no one really cares about or has the time to watch your Facebook videos. People just “Like” them in hope that you will “Like” theirs in return. Which makes the whole arrangement a little sick. (Unless they are trying to sell something. In which case your “Likes” might mean they will be able to pay their bills… They are about survival not a plea for attention… In which case, you go ahead…)

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Beauty, talents, riches are not given to all in equal measures. But remember, ageing is a pretty fair arrangement and given to all. Not to mention that it is preferable to the one alternative offered: death.

Remember also that ageing is also the result of living: the more intensely you live and the more you feel, the more you are open to change and willing to take risks and face the possibilities of a loss, then the more you age. Which is pretty fair. So stop feeling jealous of your high-school friends who may seem to have cheated Father Time. They probably  have also cheated Life. If they look younger than you, it’s because they have a careful, closed heart that has been untouched by turmoil OR miracles. Which again, sounds pretty fair: You live = you age. You are afraid to live = you look good for a little longer. Choose wisely.

Know that no matter how hard you try to hold on to things, they will sooner or later change. And if they change often, then you will be one of those people whose life is more difficult but their heart more open and their understanding of life broader. (Again, a pretty fair arrangement)

Enjoy the moment, rather than take photos of it with your phone. Live your life rather than document it on Twitter.

Enough with the duck-lips-and-sleepy-eyes-selfies already.

Stop istagraming your salads. (We’ve all seen salads before. Nobody cares to see yours)

Stop being desperate for attention.

Stop posting birthday wishes and public messages to your loved ones on your Facebook wall (instead of privately, to their face, like a normal person). Which is to say stop using your loved ones as a way of proving to your friends that you have a life. Because it’s pathetic. And a proof that you don’t, really.

Stop seeking external validation in order to feel like you are somebody: posing on photos / videos especially created in order to be posted on Facebook, Instagram, Youtube and the like, or being the protagonist of some photo collage / video created by some App on Facebook, does not actually make you a star…

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Know that spirituality is not about how often you go to church, how much time you spent meditating, fasting, repeating your mantras, writing your positive affirmations, standing on your head, or greeting people with “Namaste” or even having lived in an ashram in India. It’s not about how well you follow the instructions of your priest, spiritual guide, yoga teacher, life coach or guru, or whether you can quote the scriptures, the Bhagavad Gita or your favorite self-help author. And it’s not about the platitudes about life and love that you share of facebook either… It’s above all, about who you are in your everyday life: how do you treat your family, friends, employees, people in need, people who have done different sort of choices? How do you react when things become difficult? Or when they go your way? Who are you in your hour of need or triumph? It’s about being fair and kind and humble and understanding. It’s about empathy: feeling a connection with others that prompts you into change, and even self-sacrifice. It’s about understanding the pain of your fellow human being, and feeling the need to do something to sooth it, even when it costs you to do that. And even when nobody knows all about it. And additionally, to do it with no hope of reward.

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Even though it is a comforting thought to believe in a  universe/genie whose sole purpose of existence is, as the famous saying says, to “conspire” on your behalf and grant you all wishes, no matter how selfish, inappropriate or thoughtless they are, or how they affect other people, do bare in mind that may be you are not always worthy to have everything you want, or it is not always wise to have it all, and may be, just may be, it is not the “universe’s” first priority or the best thing for your soul. Just wanting it badly and wishing it intensely may not be enough… Think about this for a moment: is there more intense a wish than that of the mother of the little child who is dying of starvation and wishes to find a morsel of food to help it survive for a little longer? Is there a greater wish than that of the people who are suffering and dying in hospital beds or of the children or women who are being molested by vicious men and wish urgently to escape their nightmare? Don’t you think they want it enough for it to happen? And do you think, you making a wish to be rich or thin or famous or find love, is done more intensively than them and is therefore more worthy of fulfilment? The intensity of the wish being the greatest thing about the whole arrangement? In short, contemplate about your place in the universe. Think before you wish. And use your judgement when faced with self-help-like “truths”, even though they do tend to flatter your ego… Work on your Self, rather than your “life goals”.

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Being sad without reason may be due to a chemical imbalance / mental illness, but  being sad about something bad that has actually happened to you, doesn’t automatically make you a depressive. It makes you a human being. Give yourself the time to heal. Talk to your friends, rather than your therapist. Take walks on the beach, rather than take a pill. Go to a cafe or a park, rather than to a “healer”, a  medium or a religious leader. Think about things on your own, like a grown up, rather than follow the generic step-by-step instructions of a life coach, or a self-help guru who profits from the prolonging of your pain.

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Stop boring your friends with thousands of mundane details of your everyday life, unless you are willing to listen to theirs too. And even then: stop boring your friends with thousands of mundane details of your everyday life…

Stop comparing yourself with other people.

Stop comparing your body with other people’ s bodies. This one is yours. And you better start liking it, because you are stuck with it. Plus, look at how well it has been serving you all these years!

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MOTHERS: Help your sons understand that there are consequences to their actions, and that all women (not just you) are worthy of their respect. Stop letting your sons get away with murder, and stop criticizing your daughter’s looks / mistakes so harshly. Love yourself, so that the mirror’s reflection you see in them, will be accepted and celebrated. Don’t make shopping for clothes your main bonding time with your daughter. Stop letting your own vanity and your own fear of ageing take over your protective instincts towards your daughter: when people compare you favourably with her, put them in their place: keep her from feeling negated when she is compared to her “young & pretty mum”. Teach her by example, not words, that she is worthy of love. Help her understand that she is not just a body that needs to fit very specific criteria, and a voice that needs to be always supportive, never daring, if she is to ever be loved by a man.

FATHERS: stop expecting the world to be impressed, because you were present during the birth of your child: you were the witness /cameraman of a miracle, not the miracle worker! Be involved in your child’s life. Do the day-to-day, time consuming, boring stuff, not just the pleasant ones. Be a parent, not just a sperm donor! Teach your sons to be responsible, thoughtful human beings, so that they won’t see women only as a source of sex, but as actual human beings! Teach your daughters to be strong and self reliant, so they won’t see men as a source of validation, but as loving partners.

PARENTS IN GENERAL: know that the minute you have kids, nothing is the same. Personal time, personal space, living without fear, are only a few of the things you have to say goodbye to. Stop expecting your life to be the same as before. It will NEVER be the same. Stop expecting your children to be / look like you. Know that you can’t affect 100% what your kids will pick up from TV, the Internet, magazines, their friends, but you can control what YOU do. Allowing your kids to see inappropriate for their age Tv shows, movies or video games, doesn’t make you a liberal parent, it makes you an irresponsible one. Keep their childhood a safe and  innocent time. Keep them away from violence and inappropriate sexual material, so that they will grow up to be adults who respect other people, and who consider their own body and sex, as being sacred. Remember that children learn more from your example, than from your words. Words are still powerful: use them in order to praise, guide, set up boundaries, inspire, but never in order to diminish, discriminate, intimidate, criticize, antagonize. Never compare them with their siblings. Never compare them with you! You gave them life, let them live it when they grow up: let them go. Prepare them to live in a new world, not the world of your own youth. Help them find their own dreams, rather than fulfil your own. Don’t overindulge them, so they won’t turn into narcissists, always expecting the world to be impressed by their every sneeze. But let go of your fear they will make a mistake or embarrass you. All you achieve by this, is undermining their self belief which turns them into either scared, anxious, critical, passive aggressive individuals, or bullies. Don’t fight in front of them. Don’t ask them to take sides in your fights. Be consistent. Give them solid principles. Teach them to be considerate.

Mothers: remember that your relationship with your sons, will set the tone for their future relationships with women, while your relationship with your daughters, will set the tone of their relationships with themselves. Fathers: remember that your relationship with your daughters, will set the tone for their future relationships with men, while your relationship with your sons, will set the tone of their relationships with themselves. And remember that everything you do or say, may affect severely your child’s life, which brings us to: forgive your own parents! Much like you, they too, were given a tough job and they too were probably doing their best.

Whether you are an adult of a child, a man or a woman (especially if you are a woman!): Know that something that prompts you into anticipation is actually the key to happiness. Find it! Don’t build your life around a person. Choose a life goal, rather than a person to be the one single thing upon which you attach your life.  It will provide meaning, and make the obstacles bearable, the boring stuff and the bad days easier, and the heartache worthy. But be warned, like all things that prompt us into anticipation, once you reach them, they will never be as great as you have imagined because reality and practicality and the thirst for more, always kick in. Don’t let that stop you. Keep reaching. Keep moving.

Stop being afraid.

Stop obsessing about shit.

Enough with the diets already.

Grow up.

Get a dog.

Breath.

Live your life!

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***

How to Live a Good Life, I – Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications.
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Art & Self awareness

…you are not a great engineer because you once assembled an Ikea bed; you are not a computer genius because you managed to upgrade Windows on your own; and you don’t have a great mathematical mind, just because you happen to have a vague understanding of what the fuck “pi” is!

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Art & Self awareness

Art & Words by Fanitsa Petrou

Know that if you are very good at crochet & needlework and all kinds of crafts; if you love flower arrangements or can cook one hell of a soufflé; if you once took Art lessons and have bought quite a lot of Art materials, including an easel; if you are pretty nifty with the hot glue gun and know all about decoupage and how to cut flowers from kitchen napkins nicely and stick them onto things calling them “your” creations; if you can make your own jewellery by passing beads through a string; if a teacher has said a thousand years ago, that a picture you drew was nice; if you once went to an Art gallery or if you own an Art gallery; if you love wearing black baggy clothes with big chunky jewellery and someone has once asked you “are you are artist? because you look like one!”; if you don’t create original work; if you don’t live by your Art; if you went to Art school but have given up on it, and are now working in a bank (not just because you could have given up on it, but also because you can actually work in a bank!), then you may be a great cook, craft person, appreciator of art, possibly a good a banker, you may even have artistic inclinations, but you are NOT really an Artist and you have no right to claim you are.

For the same reason that you may whistle a tune from “The Marriage of Figaro”, but this doesn’t not mean you are an opera singer; you may sing along with Whitney Huston  the “I will always love you” song while you are taking a shower, but trust me, it does not mean you are now a singer, any more than you are a great fashion designer because someone had once complimented your blouse / skirt colour coordination skills, or because you once sewn a button that fell off from a shirt. Similarly, you are not a great actor because you had a role in your high school play or because you can lie very well… You are not a biker-chick because you once posed next to a motorcycle, or have a cute Twity tattoo on you angle. And you are not actually a star because you pose like one in all those Facebook selfies. Like you are not a doctor because you took a couple of first aid classes. And you are not an athlete because you go to the gym every week. You are not a great dancer because you love dancing at weddings or  because you took ballet when you were a kid. (It takes a little more than that). And you are not a graphic designer just because you mess around with fonts on your computer or put photos into frames. Like you are not a great engineer because you once assembled an Ikea bed; you are not a computer genius because you managed to upgrade Windows on your own; and you don’t have a great mathematical mind, just because you happen to have a vague understanding of what the fuck “pi’ is!

And by the way, you are not a writer because you have always kept a diary or because you have written a lot of affirmations in notebooks when you were going through your Self-Help phase, or because you went through a divorce or an illness or some other painful experience and feel like venting. Wanting to vent, to find release and comfort in writing down your experience is very healing, but not at all what makes you a writer. On the contrary, what it does, is the ability to create new stories, new worlds in your head that are not nessesarily directly related to your own personal life, and to have the language, the secret code as it were, that will make them identifiable by others. To have your head be filled with stories that keep up at night, that visit you in your dreams, that force you to fill your home with notes… Likewise, you are not a writer because you write briefs all day at work and it doesn’t stink like other aspects of your working day, or because you read a lot of books, or because you wrote one hell of a text to your ex, one night when you were a little tipsy that it made him call you, or simply because you keep saying things like: “one day I will give it all up in order to write” (Trust me, if you were meant to write, you would do nothing but that. It is not a matter of finding the “right” time to do it, or even a matter of a conscious decision or even a choice… You just HAVE to do it and you just go ahead and do it.)

And lastly, if you find creating anything to be a pleasant and relaxing experience, you are most definitely NOT an Artist. Cause if it is pleasant and relaxing, you are not doing it right…

In short, have some self-awareness for godsake!

And bare in mind this too:

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Real artists (painters, writers, musicians, occasionally movie makers) are the people who have the kind of  mind that allows – forces – them to imagine, conjure up, create entire worlds and who also have the skills to make them accessible to other people. To transform the personal into the cosmic. And there are no off days when you stop being an artist, like there is no “off” button, or real vacations or weekends, when you are not constantly “recording”, gathering material if not creating.

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Real artists do have to deal with all kinds of crap on a daily basis however, including lack of respect AND feelings of jealousy by practically everyone they meet; lack of a steady income, on top of the kind of long (mostly unpaid) hours that would bring to their knees any other professional; a constant feeling of insecurity about their future, especially if they are sticking to their guns and do not take the common, and easy way out, by becoming Art teachers. They should at least be allowed to get annoyed with non artists claiming to be that… They have damn well earned the right!

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So here are a few things to never say to an artist if you are a decent human being:

-Hey I’m an artist too! I just started taking lessons! How about that?

-I could have been an artist too. My teacher said I could really draw when I was in elementary school.

-I am an artist too. I do decoupage!

– I could have been an artist too, if I didn’t have to work.

-I bet some day I will be an artist too. 

-Can you teach me how to do that?

-You should taste my lemon pie! I guess I’m an artist too!

-You should see what I’ve done with the redecorating of my bedroom! I guess I’m an artist too!

-I really have a green thump. My herb garden looks great. I guess I’m an artist too!

-You should see my latest needlework. I guess I’m an artist too!

-I wish I could have been an artist too. Playing all day with colours and things. That must be a hoot! But poor me I have to go to work every day!

-It’s not like it’s real work what you do, right? I mean you are an artist, right?

-Can’t you give me one of your artworks as a gift? You have so many!

-You must give me one of your artworks for free, because you will get a lot of work if people see this in my home.

-Artists are supposed to be spiritual people, and yet you want to get paid? That’s not right! (reply: Yes. Just like you do want to get paid for doing your own work. I don’t want to shock you but artists too have to actually eat and bath and have electricity, and heat and they also buy groceries. Sorry for bursting your bubble there)

-I bet I could do that if I put my mind into it.

-I bet I could do that if I had taken Art lessons.

-I bet I could do that if I could have a copy of it. (Can I have a copy please?)

-I want to see something in blue. (Or red, or yellow etc) Cause if you are gonna say that to me, at least have a gun too and kill me on the spot to get it over with)

-Can’t you make the same painting again but smaller, so that it will be cheaper?

-I love the Arts and would like to help you by buying your work.

I can’t afford to buy this.  I’m sure you won’t mind making a good discount. I have kids in private school and their tuition is very high. (Apparently it’s the artist’s fault and should share the cost)

-Can you copy this I found from a magazine / book / the Internet? Because I really like it?

-Can you paint something with horses? I really like horses. (Always with the fucking horses!!!)

-You must have a lot of free time on your hands in order to have done all that.

-Why do you still create more artworks? I mean you have so many already!

 -Aren’t you tired of painting/writing all the time? Why don’t you do something else for a change? 

and of course the classic:

-How many hours did it take you to make this? (and assuming that they can then figure out the price)

and,

-From where do you get your inspiration? (Expecting to hear things like “From the Sea” “From falling in love”, ” from my kids”, because such banalities are what people expect and want to hear and because in their head, then the mystery would be solved…

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All that happens because Art is a language not spoken by most people. It is an inability to compromise. It’s a restlessness, but it is also the remedy for that restlessness: it is that thing that non artistic folk are looking for, when they feel like their life is empty and they think it’s time to find a new partner, a new job, a new hobby, do extreme sports, go on vacation, climb mountains or leave the country. It is that void that larks at the centre of your chest and you think that if only you could have fallen in love, if only you could have travelled, or buy more staff, it would go away. For artists, the void is bigger but the means to fill it, is always at hand! It is found in creating and it is often a never-ending, bottomless source  that makes other ways of filling that void favoured by people who don’t have that same source, as meaningless and insignificant and idiotic. (That is why it is kind of a tough job for non artistic folk to be in love with an artist – or so I hear… Nothing, NOTHING is actually preferable to creating.

But when it comes to most people, the aquiring of Art it is not a necessity – as in vital for your physical survival (unless you are a very special and rare sort of individual that is, in which case, can I have your number?). To the eyes of most people, nothing “bad” will happen to you if you don’t add it to your life, and buying it is therefore an extreme form of wasting money, an unnecessary luxury at the very best. That is why artists are not respected. Their contribution not wholly appreciated. (Unless hundreds of years go by, and their work is the one, in fact the only thing that will identify the history and the entire culture of an era) Art is yes, often a status symbol for people who have the money to buy it in order to assume a fake identity offered by the “acquisition” of culture. But Art is truly a real necessity only to very few people whose life’s entire journey has let them to the realisation that other things lie across the horizon of the mundane and the practical. For them, buying Art is not a waste of money, not a luxury, and not done in order to boost their social status, but a real necessity, a real need that heals and uplifts their soul. That is why an artist cannot offer much in the way of persuading a buyer. If someone can feel that an art piece is desirable, worthy of having, then it is. Its worth is partly subjective and depended upon the individual’s understanding of things. It is a mirror that reflects what’s already there… And if nothing is there, then there is nothing that can be seen in that mirror and nothing that can be said…

That is why it is quite common for people who are interested in buying Art, to hassle, to ask for discounts, and to do it honestly thinking that it is not just OK, but it is justifiable, because, 1) they think that creating Art is an easy job, in a kid-playing-with-crayons-kind -of-manner, and 2) they think it is a luxury, a waste of money, something they shouldn’t be doing. That is why the same people would never go to a supermarket and after loading their basket, go to the cashier and start negotiating (for hours) the price of groceries, right? Like they wouldn’t go to a pharmacy, a hair salon, a bakery, a bookstore, a shoe shop a department store or absolutely ANY store and when the time came when they would have to pay for services or goods purchased, they would go ahead and demand lower prices, discounts, payment schedule that can last for years, right? And they wouldn’t feel offended if the store owner would say “No”, right? But an artist saying “No”? That is practically blasphemy! Likewise, they wouldn’t go to any store offering services in exchange of goods purchased, right? (which is becoming quite common practice these days) Can you imagine going to a supermarket and arguing with the cashier that it would be best for her to take instead of cash some yoga lessons, or a hair cut? Never mind that the services offered are not needed, or not at all of the same value as the artwork, or that the artist cannot go ahead and pay her electricity bills or buy food with it… Her refusal  is still seen as arrogance and impudence. Like it is not enough that people want to have her work in their home, she wants money for it??!!! And thinks that a haircut is not good enough to pay for it? Ah the audacity!!! (I mean artists, right? What do you expect?….)

And then there are those who blatantly offer absolutely nothing in return for your Art. It happens a lot, and it happens everywhere: recently, A Sainsbury’s supermarket in Camden Road, in London, has posted a long ad with very specific requirements, asking for “a creative and ambitious” artist to “volunteer their skills”, adding that “your work will contribute to our success”. In short “work for free so that we can be more successful” How about that as an incentive? Graphic designers have answered to this challenge by posting their own ad titled: “Artists are looking for a supermarket to volunteer their skills” and restock their kitchen (Bless them for doing it!!!)

Things have become worse lately for artists because there are so many of us claiming to be that… We have always been a small percentage of the population, but now I dare you to say you are one, and not have the other person reply “So am I!” or at the very least “So is my daughter /sister/aunt/cousin, granddaughter” etc. One in two individuals is claiming to be an artist, and surely that can’t be right! It started with artists who could not stand on their own two feet in the limited Art market, finding a means to survive by giving Art lesson to kids and adults. It is a great way to make a living but it has single handedly destroyed Art. Adults find catharses and refuge in Art class. Creating things is a kind of panacea: for them it is a relaxing act (lucky bastards…) plus it makes them feel “special”. It is a drug they can not get enough of… Decoupage is the new craze apparently. I dare any artist who creates original work stand before any one of these arts-and-crafts ladies and say something like “ I actually created this on my own. As in, from scratch, while you just took  (as in stolen) something someone else created, meaning I had an idea which was mine and related to my entire life experience, and knowledge and inner self, I sketched it, I painted it with paints and brushes, used all kinds of skills and materials and spent endless hours on it, possibly days or weeks of my life, and saw it through, while you just bought a napkin and cut the flowers off it and stuck them with glue onto a wooden box”. They just can’t see what the difference is! No matter how patiently you explain it. All they want to know is that it feels good. You created something and so did they. You are doing the same thing. You ARE the same thing! The drug is working! They ARE special. Before you know it, they will get it in their heads that they can do their art and crafts projects for a living, which makes the already limited Art market even more limited! You see them in open air bazars, with their handmade bags and their decoupage boxes and their jewellery. And they are a happy, proud bunch, aren’t they? Art for them is fun! There is no shadow or doubt in their experience, no mirror reflecting anything other than their “greatness”. (Never mind that it is borrowed or rather stolen!) There is none of the darkness and the turmoil associated with those who dive onto their own depths in order to find their Self. Only the joy for the end result…

Parents on the other hand, are happy to keep on paying for expensive Art lessons when they are encouraged by the Art teacher who has no other way of making a living, that they kid is the next Picasso. It is a kind lie that is easily believable by parents who also want their kid to be “special” and have no difficulty in believing it, and so return for more lessons year after year and before you know it, it is a lie that eventually leads to Art studies. After 2-4 years of “experimenting” at Art schools (which in turn gain greatly from this increased interest in what they are selling) the kid – now young adult – returns home. When creating Art is not exactly a “burning need” they then become in turn Art teachers, who live by creating more hopeful “artists” who after their own studies in Art school, return home to also become Art teachers in order to create more “artists”… It is a viscous circle that produces not Art, but Art students and Art teachers. And there is money it, so it won’t go away any time soon. Funny thing is, artists who are the “real deal” cannot stand the idea of teaching… They just want to create… Anything else seems unbearable, no matter how little they earn from Art, or how much money they are losing by not teaching…

Stirrings Of The Past II

It is ironic how the only people who can make real money from Art these days, are the people who sell hope to artists and illusions to non-artists: gallery owners who gain lots of money even when you make no sales, Art website owners who lure artists with hopes of International exposure, people who publish Art books and Art magazines which are not actually on sale because they get all their income from artists, etc. And hope is cheap for those who sell it, but quite expensive for those who are buying it! The other way to make money from Art is like I said to make people who are not actually artists feel like they are: Art teachers, people who organised Art & crafts bazaars and lately, people creating colouring books for adults! Is it any wonder that this is the new big thing in Art, selling by the millions? Grown up people are buying these books like crazy and are not just colouring away but they feel that this simple act favoured by all five year olds, is in fact an artistic act!! They post their “creations” on Pinterest, on Instagram, on Facebook, proudly, as if they were actually the ones who created the original line Art!!! They say “this is my latest creation” and people are showering them with praise and “Likes” – cause where we would all be without “Likes” right? Is there nobody among their friends to do a reality check one wonders? Remind them that “this is NOT actually your creation, you just coloured inside the lines like a kindergarten kid… You can say that you enjoy it, that you feel it is a pleasant, stress free activity, but no, you can’t say that it is an act related with creation. The woman who came up with the designs inside the lines of which you are colouring, yes, she can say it, but you can’t. Sorry”

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Each artistic creation has to be rooted in self awareness. It has hidden dimensions and carries the heart, the soul, the spirit, the energy of the artist who created it, while much like a mirror, is reflecting the viewer’s own. It is a capsule that holds something not only of the artist’s talents, but also their entire past, their thoughts and emotions and knowledge and experience and spiritual journey and understanding of the world, seen and unseen. Artistic creation involves staring onto the darkness of their own inner, ocean floor, and retrieving material that connects them with other people in ways unimaginable by those who can’t.

Every creation, is also an act of sacrifice, and every Art sale, is experienced as a loss, because every art piece holds a part of the artist, and artists have to daily part from pieces of themselves and to do it with grace and a clean heart.

When you are buying Art, you are acquiring an object of beauty that can add something substantial to your life, your home, your energy even. But bare in mind, you are not “helping” an artist, you are not being “supportive” of the Arts, making some sort of magnanimous contribution to the art world, in the same manner that when you are buying something you like or need from a shop, you are not “helping” a shop keeper. When you pay an artist, you are not making them a favour, you are not being charitable, in the same manner that when you get paid from your own employer or clients, you are not receiving charity and they are not making you a favour, but giving payment for work done!

Even so, please keep in mind that when you are buying an Art piece, whether it is a painting, an Art object, or a book, you are only paying a fragment of its true value or actual cost. Artists work with their mind, their spirit, their soul, their body even – that is why Art is special. Because the artist “uses” so much of her/his self and because it requires, it holds and captures and conveys so much of the human experience and condition.

Each creation, is the result of strenuous and painful work, that started in the artist’s childhood and that involves countless hours of the artist’s life, and countless hours of failed attempts and experimentation and costs, that are as a rule, never included in the price you have paid, which refers only to the end result. Even greatly successful artists, are only getting paid for a tiny percentage of their working hours. Think about it: in what other profession is this acceptable? In every other profession the loss of even one single unpaid hour is a huge deal, but for an artist, whole months or even years of unpaid work is kind of a given…

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Art, as in the act of creating things, is actually a healing thing that should be attempted by all, but bare in mind this too: if you are an amateur artist, someone who enjoys creating things on their spare time (and you ARE an amateur, if you enjoy it, instead of dread it, wish you could avoid it, or suffer because of it, but also feel compelled to do it and feel like nothing else is really worth doing…), but you don’t have your own ideas, do not copy artists who create original work and live by their Art! Copying is a dishonest, exploitative, and cruel act. Not to mention illegal! We’ve reached a point when we – artists – have second thoughts about exhibiting our work, in exhibitions, Art markets or the Internet. Because the people who will come by are more likely to steal your ideas rather than buy them! That’s how low things have gone… Think about it for a minute: I don’t come into your home or place of business loading your furniture and TV and computers and goods into a truck and drive away! Do something you are good at for godsakes! And please have a little self awareness.

And respect Art and artists. Not out of charity, but because it is the right thing to do and because they deserve, at the very least, as much as everyone else, to not have their work being stolen. Or their heart being broken by thoughtless remarks.

There, I’ve said it!

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Art & Self awareness – Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications.

http://www.fanitsa-petrou.com

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Από τον Hitchcock στο Game of Thrones


Αν λοιπόν η νέα pop κουλτούρα είναι σημάδι

πως ζούμε σ’ ένα άρρωστο κόσμο, ετοιμαστείτε.

Ο ασθενής θα χειροτερέψει…

 game oif thrones big sm

Από τον Hitchcock στο Game of Thrones

της Φανίτσας Πέτρου

Η βία έκανε cameback. Έγινε μόδα. Ζούμε λες στο μέσο μιας παγκόσμιας συνωμοσίας που βάλθηκε να μας απευαισθητοποιήσει στη θέα της. Η ακραία απεικόνιση βίας ας πούμε στο κινηματογράφο, αν και υπήρχε από πάντα, δεν ήταν ποτέ mainstream. Ανήκε στο σύμπαν των B movies, και των Slasher / Gore films. Σε υποκατηγορίες των ταινιών τρόμου δηλαδή, που δεν ήταν ποτέ για το πλατύ κοινό. Η ιδέα πως θα βλέπαμε στο σινεμά στα καλά καθούμενα, έτσι όπως χλαπακιάζαμε ανέμελα το ποπ κόρν μας, αποκεφαλισμούς, ακρωτηριασμούς, ευνουχισμούς, κόκκαλα, εντόσθια και γενικά το είδος των πραγμάτων που μόνο ένας φοιτητής ιατρικής ή ένας serial killer “δικαιούτο” να αντίκριζε σε άλλες εποχές χωρίς να αναστατώνεται, μας ήταν μέχρι σχετικά πρόσφατα αδιανόητο. Γιατί μέχρι σχετικά πρόσφατα, ζούσαμε σε ένα κόσμο απείρως αθωότερο.

Όταν το 1960, πρωτοκυκλοφόρησε στους κινηματογράφους το Psycho του Alfred Hitchcock, ασθενοφόρα περίμεναν έξω από την κάθε αίθουσα προβολής για να περιθάλπουν όσους τυχόν λιποθυμούσαν από τη θέα του αίματος στη σκηνή του φονικού στο μπάνιο. (Πράγμα που συνέβηκε και το 1973, στις πρώτες προβολές της ταινίας The Exorcist) Μπορεί ο Hitchcock να το έκανε για λόγους διαφημιστικούς, εμπνευσμένος πιθανώς από τη τακτική του Grant-Guignol, του θέατρου του τρόμου της Γαλλίας, στο προσωπικό του οποίου υπήρχαν γιατροί και νοσοκόμες (παρ’ όλο που σε εκείνη τη περίπτωση, ήταν συχνά ηθοποιοί), μα η αλήθεια είναι πως χρειάστηκαν τα ασθενοφόρα εντέλει, γιατί ο κόσμος όντως λιποθυμούσε! Και το μόνο που έδειχνε η ταινία, ήταν το μαχαίρι στη κουρτίνα του μπάνιου, κι ύστερα το αίμα να τρέχει στην αποχέτευση…

Το Casino Royale, του 2006, η πρώτη ταινία με τον Greg Daniel σαν James Bond, σηματοδότησε ίσως την αρχή της νέας τάσης με την μακριά και αχρείαστη σκηνή βασανισμού του ήρωα. Όσο κι αν συγκρινόμενη η συγκεκριμένη σκηνή με πιο πρόσφατες θα μπορούσε να θεωρηθεί και “ήπια”, άνοιξε τις πύλες, ακριβώς γιατί δεν επρόκειτο για ταινία που ανήκε σε οποιαδήποτε υποείδος του Gore, μα για μια PG-13 (κατάλληλη δηλαδή για κοινό άνω των 13 χρονών), “ανώδυνη” κατά τα άλλα ταινία, που απευθυνόταν στο μέσο θεατή. Μα πολλή αίμα κύλησε από τότε στις κινηματογραφικές αίθουσες. Ωκεανοί ολόκληροι για την ακρίβεια. H τηλεόραση ακολούθησε. Όταν τα συνδρομητικά (Cable) Αμερικάνικα κανάλια (βλ. Showtime, HBO, STARZ κλπ) και τελευταία οι διαδυκτιακές πλατφόρμες /κανάλια (βλ. Amazon), άρχισαν να παραγκωνίζουν τα “παραδοσιακά” Network κανάλια που βασίζονται στις διαφημίσεις για τα έσοδα τους, και γι αυτό είναι υπόλογα σε κανόνες για οικογενειακές ζώνες και τα παρόμοια, δεν υπήρχε επιστροφή. Οι γραφικές σκηνές βίας και σεξ, όπως και η σκληρή γλώσσα, έμπαιναν πλέον σε κάθε σειρά, όχι γιατί κατά ανάγκη το απαιτούσε η πλοκή, αλλά απλά επειδή επιτρέπετο πλέον. Ο κάθε δημιουργός (σεναριογράφος, σκηνοθέτης) έτρεξε να πρωτοτυπήσει με το να μας σοκάρει. Μόνο που είχαν όλοι ακριβώς την ίδια ιδέα… Άσε που αποδείχτηκε και σίγουρος τρόπος να ανεβούν οι τηλεθεάσεις. Και αν θα διατηρείτο η προσοχή του κοινού που ήταν πια διασπασμένη, κι η πείνα του για νέες ακραίες εικόνες χορτάτη, η βία θα έπρεπε να κλιμακωθεί, το αίμα να τρέξει ποταμός, τα εντόσθια να ξεπηδήσουν από τις πληγές, κι οι γυναίκες να εξευτελιστούν με χίλιους δυο τρόπους. Γι αυτό και άρχισαν να διαλέγονταν πλέον σενάρια που θα εξυπηρετούσαν τη νέα ανάγκη για μονομανή βία και απρόσωπο βίαιο σεξ που παραπέμπει σε πορνό. Ιστορίες με βρυκόλακες, ζόμπι, τέρατα, μεσαιωνικά δράματα και ιατροδικαστικά αστυνομικά μυστήρια, είναι τα τελευταία 8-10 χρόνια τα αγαπημένα θέματα των πιο πετυχημένων τηλεοπτικών σειρών, ακριβώς γιατί δίνουν την δυνατότητα να δούμε όλων των ειδών βαρβαρότητες, αποκεφαλισμούς, ακρωτηριασμούς, αιματηρές σκηνές πολέμου, εντόσθια χυμένα, νεκροτόμους επί το έργον, άγριες σκηνές βασανισμών, βιασμών και φόνων. Τα σενάρια δεν αναφέρονται απλά στη βία, οι σκηνοθέτες δεν την υπαινίσσονται απλά, μα μας κάνουν μάρτυρες της καρέ-καρέ. Φάση-φάση. Αν παρακολουθείτε λοιπόν τη νέα Αμερικάνικη και Αγγλική τηλεόραση, που χαρακτήρισε τη εποχή μας σαν “golden time of TV”, πάει να πει πως είδαν και σας πολλά τα μάτια σας… (Πιθανότατα σαν και μένα, πίσω από τα μισανοιγμένα σας δάκτυλα…) Κι αν δεν έχετε ιδέα για τι πράγμα μιλώ, δύο πράγματα έχω να σας πω: α) Ζήτε ακόμα στα ‘90ς, και β) Τυχεράκηδες!

Κι ύστερα ήρθε το Game of Thrones. Και η τηλεόραση άλλαξε για πάντα. Το έξυπνο σενάριο που τσιμέντωσε τη νέα τάση για τα καλά, παραπέμπει στα πιασάρικα σημεία του Lord of the Rings, του Harry Potter, του Chronicles of Narnia μαζί με λίγη μυθολογία και Ρωμαϊκή και Αγγλική ιστορία, όλα στο πιο σκοτεινό τους, ανάμικτα με τις σεξιστικές εμμονές των πορνό, και τις θεματικές των video games (τα τελευταία αντλούν έτσι κι αλλιώς υλικό από τις ίδιες πηγές). Το Game of Thrones, είναι μια πολυβραβευμένη, υψηλού επιπέδου παραγωγή, με δυνατό cast, ενδιαφέρουσα ιστορία, μα και ακραία, απενοχοποιημένη βία, και μια ατέλειωτη στρατιά γυμνών γυναικών που περιφέρονται ανάμεσα στους, εννοείται, ντυμένους άντρες (κι αυτό έχει πάντα τη σημασία του), σα νάναι απλά μέρος του σκηνικού, και που χρησιμοποιούνται εντέλει και από τους άντρες ήρωες σα νά ναι ακριβώς αυτό. Μοιάζει δηλαδή να είναι μια μακριά φαντασίωση αγοριών στη εφηβεία (πως να μη χτυπήσει εμπορική φλέβα;) Περιέχει δε σκηνές και ιδέες που σοκάρουν, όπως το εφτάχρονο (ή κάτι τέτοιο) αγόρι να θηλάζει στα όρθια (αφού είναι και κοτζάμ παιδί…) τη βασίλισσα μητέρα του, τη σκηνή με την εκδορά ζωών (με πλήρη λεπτομέρεια) μπροστά στα μάτια μας, τη ρομαντικοποίηση της αιμομιξίας μεταξύ αδελφής και αδελφού, την αιμομικτική σχέση πατέρα με τις κόρες του, κι ύστερα με τις εγγονές του (που είναι και κόρες του…), και γενικά τη διαρκή ταπείνωση και τους βιασμoύς όλων σχεδόν των ηρωίδων. Κι όλα αυτά, γυρισμένα σε μια παραγωγή του επιπέδου του Lord of The Rings, με σκηνοθετική μαεστρία, εξαιρετική φωτογραφία, υπνωτική ατμόσφαιρα και κοστούμια / έργα τέχνης, γεμάτα χειροποίητες λεπτομέρειες φτιαγμένες από τα χέρια της καλλιτέχνιδας Michele Carragher. Λίγες σειρές σφυροκοπούν τις αισθήσεις μας και τις αρχές μας τόσο ανελέητα. Ο θαυμασμός εναλλάσσεται με την αηδία. Κι ύστερα με την αγανάκτηση. Κι ύστερα με το θυμό, και πάλι από την αρχή…

Είναι εν ολίγης μια σειρά με ένα ύπουλο σεξισμό, τυλιγμένο στη χρυσόκολλα της φροντισμένης παραγωγής, που χρησιμοποιεί τη μυθική “μεσαιωνίζουσα” εποχή σαν δικαιολογία για την απεικόνιση βαρβαροτήτων, χωρίς να είναι υπόλογη σε politically corect κανόνες, σε δικαιώματα γυναικών και τα παρόμοια. Γιατί δεν είναι παρά μια σειρά φαντασίας, σωστά; Μη παρασύρεστε από το γεγονός ότι ο συγγραφέας όντας έξυπνος, έδωσε σε μια γυναίκα (τη Khaleesi, τη “μητέρα των δράκων”) το ρόλο της δύναμης, (αφού την είδαμε φυσικά να εξευτελίζεται πρώτα κάμποσο). Ο σεξισμός που διέπει τα βιβλία και τη σειρά, είναι έντονος και πρωτόγνωρος. Οι ηρωίδες του, αν δεν είναι σατανικές μάγισσες, είναι είτε πόρνες, είτε θύματα πολλαπλών εξευτελισμών, σεξουαλικών και ηθικών. Προσωπικά δεν είχα την κράση, το στομάχι, ή την ανοχή να αντέξω να παρακολουθώ τη συγκεκριμένη σειρά πάνω από μια σαιζόν, (και το ότι πολλοί ήρωες της σειράς μιλούν με την Sheffield προφορά – βλ. Sean Bean – το έκανε ελαφρώς δυσκολότερο για μένα…), και όπως φαίνεται δεν είμαι η μόνη. Οι αρνητικές αντιδράσεις πληθαίνουν τελευταία, καθώς πολλοί τηλεθεατές άρχισαν να το παίρνουν και εκείνοι επιτέλους χαμπάρι πως η σκοτεινή πλευρά της σειράς αυτής, δεν είναι καθόλου αθώα. Στο τέλος της τέταρτης σαιζόν ας πούμε, πολλοί αποφάσισαν συνειδητά πως δε θα ξαναπαρακολουθούσαν τη σειρά. Αφορμή ο βιασμός της αδελφής από τον αδελφό, (για να “παρηγορηθεί” ή κατά κάποιους κριτικούς, για να ξαναποκτήσει τη “δύναμη” του!) όταν ο γιος τους (άστα μη τα ρωτάτε…) πέθανε. Δίπλα από το πεθαμένο σώμα του όλα αυτά… Το τέλος της πέμπτης σαιζόν, είδε κι άλλους να αγανακτούν και να σταματούν τη παρακολούθηση και διαδικτυακή υποστήριξη της σειράς, μετά που ακόμα μια κεντρική ηρωίδα (η Sansa), βιάζεται ενώ άλλος ήρωας της σειράς εξαναγκάζεται να παρακολουθεί το βιασμό της, ο οποίος έτσι κι αλλιώς παρουσιάζεται σα νάταν δικαιολογημένος, αφού ο βιαστής της ήταν ο άντρας που μόλις παντρεύτηκε… Η αγανάκτηση που προκλήθηκε από την εν λόγω σκηνή ήταν τόση, που έκανε τους παραγωγούς της σειράς να προσαρμόσουν σεναριακά την έκτη σαιζόν που θα ξεκινήσει να προβάλλετε το Μάη του 2016, έτσι που να περιέχει λιγότερους βιασμούς γυναικών. (Να που το Ίντερνετ κάνει που και πού και καλό…)

Η ίδια απενοχοποίηση της βίας, η ίδια εμμονική χρησιμοποίηση των βιασμών των ηρωίδων όχι απλά σαν σεναριακό εύρημα, μα σαν θέαμα που εξασφαλίζει τηλεθεάσεις, και η ίδια ομιχλώδες ηθική, συναντιέται πλέον σε πολλές σειρές. Στο Outlander, τη σειρά που είναι βασισμένη στα βιβλία της Diana Gabaldon ας πούμε, χρησιμοποιείται το εύρημα του Time traveling για να μεταφερθούμε σε μια εποχή όπου η βία ενάντια των γυναικών ήταν επιτρεπτή (γιατί αν δεν είναι, τι σόι βιβλία/σειρά θα ήταν, σωστά;) Όταν οι παραγωγοί της σειράς ρωτήθηκαν αν θα απεικονίζονταν η βία προς τις γυναίκες (στο διπλό, “χρυσό” της ρόλο: σαν σεξουαλική πράξη και σαν τιμωρία), απάντησαν πασίχαρα πως “ναι” αλλά η σειρά θα ήταν κάπως “less rapey”. Το καθόλου “rapey” δεν τους πέρασε από το νου βέβαια… Το γεγονός πως χαρακτηρίζονται οι σειρές σήμερα από το βαθμό απεικόνισης βιασμών (πόσο δηλαδή “rapey” είναι), λέει πολλά… Παρόλο που η σειρά θεωρήθηκε το anti-Game of Τhrones, επειδή υποτίθεται έχει μια δυνατή γυναίκα σα κεντρική ηρωίδα, την βλέπουμε και αυτή να βιάζεται και κατόπιν να μαστιγώνεται και από τον σύντροφο της, όπως λέει για να την τιμωρήσει (για το γεγονός ότι υπήρξε η ίδια θύμα εξευτελιστικής βίας!), αλλά και να την κάνει να νιώσει λιγότερες ενοχές για το γεγονός ότι το “επέτρεψε” να συμβεί… (Τότε είναι που φωνάζεις “Έλεος!” και σπάζεις τη τηλεόραση…) Η επίδραση του Game of Thrones πάντως, φανερώνεται και από το γεγονός ότι χρησιμοποιείται σαν ρήμα πλέον για να πει ακριβώς αυτό: “to Game-of-Throne something” σημαίνει το να έχεις μια υψηλής ποιότητας παραγωγή με προσκόλληση στο γυμνό, τους βιασμούς και τη βία. Άλλωστε αυτό εξασφαλίζει φανατικούς θεατές καθώς διαιωνίζει τα καλά εδραιωμένα Πατριαρχικά κλισέ του άντρα εξουσιαστή και της γυναίκας πόρνης / θύμα / αντικείμενο.

Η απεικόνιση βίαιων και βαθιά αναστατωτικών σκηνών, υπάρχουν σε όλες σχεδόν τις κατά τα άλλα καλογραμμένες και προσεγμένες δραματικές σειρές, συνήθως από το πρώτο πρώτο επεισόδιο, για να μας προϊδεάσουν για το τι θα ακολουθήσει, αλλά και για να σιγουρέψουν το κοινό τους: O Kevin Spacey στο House of Cards να στραγγαλίζει το τραυματισμένο σκυλί του γείτονα του, ενώ κάνει αυτάρεσκες δηλώσεις στη κάμερα! O Terrence Howard σαν πατέρας στο Empire, να θέλει να πετάξει στα σκουπίδια το γιο του επειδή είναι ομοφυλόφιλος! O Άραβας δικτάτορας στο Tyrant να βιάζει μια γυναίκα μέσα στο σπίτι της, παρουσία του άντρα και των παιδιών τους… Ο Τουταγχαμών παιδί, να καλείται να βασανίσει ένα άλλο παιδάκι για να αποδείξει σε όλους πως είναι Φαραώ, στο Tut. Ο Patrick Stewart στο Blunt Talk, να απαιτεί από τον μπάτλερ του να τον μαστιγώνει (Why Professor X? WHY?) Οι διάφοροι (αμέτρητοι για την ακρίβεια), νεκροτόμοι να κομματιάζουν πτώματα μπροστά στα μάτια μας στις αστυνομικές σειρές, τύπου Bones. Η σκηνή κτηνοβασίας(!) στη κατά τα άλλα, ανώδυνη, sitcom σειρά Younger… Η νεαρή μπαλαρίνα στο φετινό Flesh & Bone, που παρόλο το όπως μας λεν, σπάνιο ταλέντο της, επιβάλλεται να βιαστεί από τον χρηματοδότη του μπαλέτου για να κερδίσει ρόλους, και να γίνει για κάποια φεγγάρια στριπτιτζού, εμπείρία που παρουσιάζεται περίπου σαν λύτρωση, Α ναι, και να έχει και σχέσεις με τον αδελφό της. Και δε μιλάμε του τύπου “Αραβωνιάσματα” του Μπόγρη (βλ. αδελφός ερωτεύεται αδελφή χωρίς να το ξέρει ότι είναι αδελφή του), αλλά με πλήρη γνώση του τι γίνεται και με δόση ρομαντισμού…. Αυτό το τελευταίο είναι εντέλει άλλωστε πολύ δημοφιλές εύρημα. Εκτός από το Game of Thrones και το Flesh and Bone, “ρομαντικές”, αιμομικτικές σχέσεις μεταξύ αδελφιών συναντάμε και στο Shame, και στο (spoiler alert…) Crimson Peak, το τελευταίο φιλμ του Guillermo Del Toro. Λες κι είναι επιδημία…

Ένα παράδειγμα της νέας τάσης βία-στο-σινεμά, είναι και η καινούργια ταινία του Alejandro Inarritu, “The Revenant”, που ενώ σαρώνει τα βραβεία, δεν είναι παρά μια μακριά σειρά από βιαιότητες. Δεν είναι τυχαίο το ότι χαρακτηρίστηκε “pain porn”, αφού παρουσιάζει το πόνο, τη βαναυσότητα, την Μεσαιωνική αγριάδα, τους βασανισμούς, τις σωματικές κακουχίες και φυσικά εννοείται, τους απαραίτητους βιασμούς, σαν ψυχαγωγία. Καμιά κρυμμένη φιλοσοφία (όπως στην περίπτωση του “Birdman”, του περσινού υπέροχου εγχειρήματος του ίδιου), μόνο η κινηματογραφημένη με τρόπο αριστοτεχνικό γραφική (πιο γραφική δεν γίνεται) ωμή, ζωώδικη βία, που παρουσιάζεται σαν “τέχνη”: όλα δίνονται σε αυτό. Στο πως δηλαδή θα απεικονιστεί με το πιο άγριο τρόπο η επίθεση της αρκούδας, οι πληγές στο σώμα του πρωταγωνιστή, η βαναυσότητα της εκδίκησης του, κλπ κλπ. Και θάταν πιο “τίμιο” αν η κινηματογράφηση δεν ήταν τόσο αριστοτεχνική. Αν δηλαδή οι προθέσεις του δημιουργού να κάνει μια gore ταινία, δε κρύβονταν πίσω από τους σέπια τόνους των παγωμένων τοπίων και – ας είμαστε ειλικρινείς – πίσω από φτηνά, ψευδοκουλτουρέ κόλπα, όπως το να έχει ο πρωταγωνιστής Ινδιάνα γυναίκα, πράγμα που τον κάνει υποτίθεται αυτόματα πιο συμπαθή (ούτε κατά δάνοια), την εκδίκηση του “δικαιολογημένη”, και την ταινία πιο “ποιοτική”. Αν αφαιρέσεις τα ομολογουμένως υπέροχα πλάνα, η ταινία δεν είναι παρά ένα fetish φιλμ της δεκάρας, μια παραλλαγή των torture porn ταινιών για θεατές που αρέσκονται να βλέπουν κόσμο να βασανίζεται / πληγώνεται, βιάζεται, αποκεφαλίζεται κλπ… Πράγμα που μας θυμίζει το παλαιότερο φιλμ “The Passion of the Christ” του Mel Gibson, που είχε υποτίθεται προθέσεις να είναι μια θρησκευτική ταινία, τα 2/3 της οποίας δεν ήταν παρά σκηνές βασανισμού. (Τουλάχιστον ταινίες όπως το “Saw” ή το “Hostel” δεν κουβαλούν σοβαροφάνειες και ψευδαισθήσεις των “ποιοτικών” προθέσεων τους). Το ίδιο πρόβλημα συναντιέται φυσικά και σε όλες τις ταινίες του Tarantino, όπως στη καινούργια του “The Hateful Eight”, όπου η στυλιζαρισμένη βία και το καρτουνίστικο gore, γίνονται και πάλι αυτοσκοπός, γίνονται η μηχανή που κινεί τη όποια δράση. Κι αυτό που πάντα ενοχλεί πέρα από τη εμμονή του δημιουργού με τη βία, είναι και το πόσο μπλαζέ φαίνεται να είναι οι μάρτυρες της, μα και τα θύματα της, τα οποίοι παρακολουθούν ή υπόκεινται σε χίλια δυο βασανιστήρια χωρίς να αντιδρούν. Λες και δε τρέχει τίποτε…

Ακόμα και στις κωμωδίες και στις υποτίθεται σύγχρονες rom-com ταινίες, οι σκηνές με όσα δε θέλουμε να βλέπουμε πληθαίνουν: φτηνό σκατολογικό χιούμορ, εμετοί και όλων των λογιών τα ανθρώπινα υγρά, γραφικές “σκηνές τουαλέτας”, η απαραίτητη “άντρας-που-αυνανίζεται-θυμωμένα σκηνή” σε όλες τις κωμωδίες, και η απαραίτητη “άντρας-που-κατουρά-σε-δοχείο” (το λεγόμενο “long piss in a pot”) στις σοβαρές ποιοτικές ταινίες εποχής. Και φυσικά μια νορμαλοποίηση των σαδομαζοχιστικών ερωτικών σκηνών, που δεν λείπουν πλέον σχεδόν από πουθενά, όπως και η τελευταία εξαιρετικά δημοφιλής τάση να βλέπουμε ετερόφυλες κατά τα άλλα γυναίκες να φιλιούνται (βλ. Birdman, Mr. Robot, Black Swan, κλπ, κλπ), όχι γιατί έχει αυτό κάτι να κάμει με τη πλοκή της ταινίας – όπως στη περίπτωση των φετινών Carol και Freeheld ας πούμε – αλλά εντελώς στο άσχετο, απλά για να εξυπηρετηθούν  οι ηδονοβλεπτικές ανάγκες των ετερόφυλων αντρών θεατών.

Πουθενά δε σταματούν πλέον οι νέοι σκηνοθέτες και σεναριογράφοι σην προσπάθεια τους να μας κρατήσουν τη προσοχή. Η λίστα των βαναυσοτήτων και των ακροτήτων στο νέο κινηματογράφο και στη νέα τηλεόραση είναι ατέλειωτη. Τόσο μεγάλη, όσα και τα ψυχικά τραύματα που μας αφήνει η κάθε τέτοια σκηνή. Ακόμα και στα κινούμενα σχέδια και στις ταινίες που απευθύνονται σε παιδιά, τα σενάρια αγγίζουν πολύ σκοτεινές πλευρές, τα special effects παραείναι τρομαχτικά κι η βία είναι παράταιρα παρούσα, λες και προετοιμάζονται οι επόμενες γενιές για να ζήσουν σε ένα κόσμο πιο βίαιο, πιο άκαρδο, πιο αποκομμένο από την ανθρωπιά του.

Η βία, έγινε πλέον κομμάτι της παγκόσμιας pop κουλτούρας. Ειδικά η βία ενάντια στις γυναίκες, η οποία δεν είναι απλά παρούσα στη Rap και Hip-Hop μουσική ας πούμε, μα είναι η δύναμη που κινεί τη μηχανή της. Οι γυναίκες στους στίχους των τραγουδιών αν δεν είναι “Bitches” & “Hos” είναι απλά σώματα, είναι σκόρπια μέλη: στήθη, πισινοί κλπ. (σημ.:“Bitches” είναι όλες οι γυναίκες που θα πουν “όχι” στον άντρα. “Hos” είναι όσες θα πουν ναι…) Στους στίχους τους, οι γυναίκες έχουν ταυτότητα μόνο σαν σεξουαλικά αντικείμενα, και αδιάκοπα καλούνται να σκάσουν και να “εξυπηρετήσουν” τις όποιες αντρικές ανάγκες. (Μερικά “κλασσικά” παραδείγματα του φαινομένου, εδώ: http://elitedaily.com/music/music-news/the-20-most-misogynist-lines-in-rap-history/ ) Η βία που θα ασκηθεί πάνω τους “δικαιολογημένη” λοιπόν, (ακριβώς γιατί δεν είναι παρά “Bitches” & “Hos” και σκόρπια, “ακέφαλα” μέλη), κι έχει σκοπό να ενδυναμώσει / αποδείξει τον ανδρισμό του ήρωα / τραγουδιστή. (Πολύ εύθραυστο πράγμα τελικά αυτός ο ανδρισμός κάποιων ετερόφυλων αντρών. Όλο και πρέπει να τον αποδεικνύουν. Λες και βρίσκεται υπό συνεχή αμφισβήτηση… Κι ο τρόπος που διαλέγουν αυτοί οι τύποι με τον εύθραυστο ανδρισμό, είναι πάντα προβλέψιμος. Και αφήνει πάντα θύματα πίσω του…) Ένα “κλασσικό” παράδειγμα σχετικό και με τα όσα γράφτηκαν και πιο πάνω, γραμμένο από τον ράπερ Bizarre: “My little sister’s birthday / She’ll remember me / For a gift I had ten of my boys take her virginity.” Και δεν είναι απλά ότι υπάρχουν τύποι που θα κάναν τέτοιες σκέψεις (και πιθανότατα πράξεις), που θα γράφαν τέτοια τραγούδια, είναι που υπάρχουν εταιρείες παραγωγής που τα στηρίζουν. Κι ύστερα ένα πλήθος ακροατών που τα κάνει επιτυχίες: άντρες και αγόρια που θα νιώσουν το machismo τους, τον ανδρισμό τους να δυναμώνει ακούγοντας τα. Κορίτσια που θα συνηθίσουν τους ρόλους τους των αιώνιων θυμάτων και θα τους δουν σα φυσικούς… Σαν κομμάτι της γυναικείας ταυτότητας τους.

Το ίδιο συμβαίνει και με την αισθητική των comics και τη θεματολογία των video games και την εμμονική και στα δύο αναπαράσταση βίαιων πράξεων ειδικά ενάντια των γυναικών. Στο εξαιρετικά δημοφιλές βιντεοπαιχνίδι Grand Theft Auto V, παραδείγματος χάριν, ο παίκτης έχει την δυνατότητα να αγοράσει γυναίκες (ή κορίτσια), να κάνει εικονικό σεξ μαζί τους με το τρόπο της αρεσκείας του (γιατί τι είναι παραπάνω από πράγματα;) και κατόπιν να τις δολοφονήσει (ξανά με το τρόπο της αρεσκείας του) σαν συνέχεια και κορύφωση της σεξουαλικής πράξης, μα και για να πάρει και τα λεφτά που έδωσε πίσω. Διπλό το κέρδος δηλαδή…

Οι συγγραφείς / σεναριογράφοι, πάντα έγραφαν για τη σκοτεινή πλευρά της ανθρώπινης φύσης, μα ποτέ πριν με τέτοια εμμονή, και ποτέ πριν τόσο in-our-face. Όλα όσα απλά τα υπαινίσσονταν σε παλαιότερες εποχές, όλα όσα ο σεβασμός της ανθρώπινης αξιοπρέπειας (παλιομοδίτικη πια λέξη και έννοια, ποιος αλήθεια τη θυμάται;) ή έστω το political correctness απαγόρευε να δούμε, όλα όσα υπήρχαν κανόνες για να μας προστατεύουν από αυτά, τώρα ξεσκεπάστηκαν. Τώρα πολλαπλασιάστηκαν. Τίποτε δεν είναι πολύ σοκαριστικό για τα μάτια μας πλέον, τίποτα δεν μας χαρίζεται. Και κανένας, ειδικά οι γυναίκες, δεν τολμούν να μιλήσουν για αυτό, γιατί οτιδήποτε έχει να κάμει με το σεξ, τις έπεισαν πως πρέπει να το αποδέχονται σα “φυσικό”, ακόμα κι αν τις εξευτελίζει, από φόβο μην τυχών και θεωρηθούν οπισθοδρομικές. Μα είναι και δρόμοι τόσο σκοτεινοί, τόσο απομακρυσμένοι από την ανθρωπιά σου, που καλύτερα είναι να μην περπατηθούν. Για 2000 και βάλε χρόνια, η γυναικεία σεξουαλικότητα ήταν καταδικαστέα, μα αν το καλοσκεφτούμε τί άλλαξε; Οι γυναίκες δεν έχουν στη ουσία επιλογή αφού εξακολουθούν να παίζουν τους παθητικούς τους ρόλους έτσι όπως αυτοί διαμορφώνονται από τη αντρική ανάγκη και αισθητική που κτίστηκε μέσα από τόσους αιώνες και που βλέπει τις γυναίκες σαν σώματα πάνω απ’όλα…

Κι αν παλαιότεροι δημιουργοί μας έκαναν ενίοτε “μάρτυρες” της σκοτεινής πλευράς, ποτέ (ή έστω σπάνια), δεν το έκαναν για να ωραιοποιήσουν τη βία ή για να κερδίζουν θεατές / αναγνώστες, πράγμα που σημαίνει πως ήξεραν που να βάλουν φρένο, και πως είχαν και αντίληψη της ευθύνης τους. Δεν προτείνουν έμμεσα να μιμηθούμε τους θύτες που περιγράφουν, ωραιοποιόντας τις πράξεις τους! Βαναυσότητες εναντίον γυναικών, υπάρχουν ας πούμε στα βιβλία της Toni Morrison, της Margaret Atwood και πλήθος άλλων. Βία ενάντια στους gay άντρες, παρουσιάζεται και στα βιβλία του James Baldwin κλπ. Ενα ολόκληρο επεισόδιο (μάλιστα ένα από τα καλύτερα και αστειότερα) αφιερώνεται στον αυνανισμό στο Seinfeld όταν ο George ήταν “Master of his domain”, αιμομικτική σχέση μεταξύ αδελφιών, υπάρχει και στο  God of Small Things της Arundhati Roy, σκηνή θηλασμού μεγάλου παιδιού βλέπουμε και στη εξαιρετική φετινή ταινία “Room”, (για να μην αναφερθώ στο “Grapes of Wrath”…), ενώ φόνος σκύλου, υπάρχει και στο To Kill a Mockingbird της Harper Lee! Μα όλα τα πιο πάνω, είναι δημιουργήματα που κατά βάθος μιλούν για ανθρωπιά! Παρομοίως η φετινή ταινία “Room”, έχει σα θέμα την κατ’εξακολούθηση κακοποίηση μιας γυναίκας, οι βιασμοί της οποίας δεν γίνονται θέαμα επί της οθόνης. Το ίδιο συμβαίνει και με το εξαιρετικό φετινό φιλμ “Spotlight”, που έχει σα θέμα την αληθινή ιστορία της κακοποίησης παιδιών από Καθολικούς ιερείς στη Βοστώνη και αλλού, που παρουσιάζει το όλο θέμα χωρίς να εξευτελίζει ανθρώπινες αξιοπρέπειες. Στα πιο πάνω παραδείγματα, η σκοτεινή πλευρά της ανθρώπινης φύσης δε παρουσιάζεται για ηδονοβλεπτικούς και για αυτό εμπορικούς λόγους! Η βία δε γίνεται ψυχαγωγία. Με δυο λόγια, ο τρόπος μα και ο λόγος που λέγονται / παρουσιάζονται τα πράγματα, έχουν τεράστια σημασία!

Κι όσο κι αν οι σειρές αυτές περιγράφουν γεγονότα που ναι, συμβαίνουν ενίοτε και στη πραγματικότητα, η συχνότητα με την οποία παρουσιάζονται, αλλά και η έμμεση απενοχοποίηση τους, δε μπορεί παρά να απευαισθητοποιεί τους θεατές, ειδικά τους νεαρότερους, και να επηρεάζει εντέλει την αντίληψη τους περί σεξ, και σαν αποτέλεσμα, το κοινωνικό τοπίο. Η επαναληπτικότητα βίαιων σκηνών, νορμαλοποιεί τη βία. Την κάνει mainstream. Συνηθισμένο φαινόμενο. Την κάνει ΟΚ. Και τότε η τέχνη δε μιμείται απλά την ζωή, μα η ζωή αρχίζει να μιμείται τη τέχνη… Η εξοικίωση των θεατών με τις εικόνες βίας το κάνει ας πούμε ευκολότερο το να το καταπιούν το χάπι οι Αμερικανοί πολίτες πως είναι αναγκαία για να τους προστατέψει από τους πιθανούς τρομοκράτες που υποβάλλονται από τις Αμερικανικές αρχές αποενοχοποιημένα πλέον, σε φοβερά βασανιστήρια ακόμα και όταν δεν υπάρχουν αποδείξεις της ενοχής τους: 57% των Αμερικανών πολιτών, θεωρούν πως τα βασανιστήρια είναι μια χαρά μέθοδος ανάκρισης…

Τα δύο είναι συγκοινωνούντα δοχεία: Η βία στο σινεμά, τη τηλεόραση, κλπ έχει σαν επακόλουθο να τρέφει με τη σειρά της την ίδια την πραγματική ζωή. Τα βίντεο ας πούμε που δίνει στη δημοσιότητα η τρομοκρατική οργάνωση Isis, με βασανισμούς και live αποκεφαλισμούς και φόνους, είναι καθαρά εμπνευσμένα από την Αμερικάνικη pop κουλτούρα: η κινηματογράφηση, ο φωτισμός, η μουσική στο background, δανείζονται την “αισθητική” τους από ταινίες, τηλεοπτικές σειρές, video clips, video games της Δύσης! Όταν λοιπόν οι Δυτικοί αγανακτούν και σοκαριζόταν με την αγριότητα των Ισλαμιστών, ας το θυμούνται τουλάχιστον πως τα ίδια βλέπουν και εκείνοι καθημερινά ως ψυχαγωγία!

Για τους ίδιους ακριβώς λόγους, δεν είναι τυχαία και η κατακόρυφη αύξηση στις κακοποιήσεις παιδιών και γυναικών τα τελευταία χρόνια. Και αν οι νεότερες γενιές εκτίθενται από πολύ μικρή ηλικία σε εικόνες και ιδέες τις οποίες δεν έχουν ακόμα την ικανότητα να τις εξηγήσουν και να τις ταξινομήσουν σωστά, κι αν όλες οι πληροφορίες που παίρνουν για το σεξ, και τους φυλετικούς ρόλους τους προέρχονται από τα media, σημαίνει πως έπονται και τα χειρότερα… Ένα από τα πολλά παραδείγματα που ακούμε τελευταία στις ειδήσεις είναι και η πρόσφατη ιστορία του 9χρονου κοριτσιού από τη Κύπρο που βιαζόταν από τον ανήλικο αδελφό της και τον 77χρονο παππού της που “εκπαίδευε” πάνω της τον εγγονό του στο “ανδριλίκι”! Η κατακόρυφη αύξηση παρόμοιων αποκρουστικών εγκλημάτων εναντίον κοριτσιών και γυναικών ανά το Παγκόσμιο, έχει άμεση σχέση με την εύκολα προσβάσιμη πορνογραφία στο Internet, η οποία βρίσκεται σήμερα στη τρίτη θέση των πιο προσοδοφόρων νόμιμων πηγών πλουτισμού, (μετά από τη βιομηχανία όπλων και τη φαρμακευτική βιομηχανία!) και η οποία διατηρεί τη θέση της στην αγορά, και το ενδιαφέρον του κοινού της, με την κλιμακωτή αύξηση της σκληρότητας των εικόνων της, δίνοντας έμπνευση και δικαιολογία στους θύτες που δρουν ενάντια σε παιδιά και γυναίκες, και διαμορφώνοντας τη σεξουαλική ταυτότητα και αγοριών και κοριτσιών. Πράγμα που με τη σειρά του δυναμώνει τη Πατριαρχία, που στο Δυτικό κόσμο, βρίσκει έκφραση στους αμέτρητους εξευτελισμούς γυναικών μέσα στη pop κουλτούρα. Όλα τα πιο πάνω, έχουν γυρίσει το ρολόι πίσω: έχουν μετατρέψει ξανά και με τον πιο απενοχοποιημένο τρόπο, τις γυναίκες σε εργαλεία, και έχουν εγκλωβίσει και τους άντρες σε περιοριστικούς Νeanderthal ρόλους, ενώ έχουν απο-ιεροποιήσει πλήρως την ερωτική πράξη, μετατρέποντας την σε διεκπεραιωτική μονομερή εκτόνωση, αποκλειστικό ανδρικό δικαίωμα και προνόμιο (έτσι ακριβώς όπως και στο Game of Thrones, στα πορνό, κλπ.) Η rape culture (“κουλτούρα βιασμών”) είναι το χαραχτηριστικό της εποχής μας άλλωστε. Δεν είναι τυχαίο ας πούμε το γεγονός ότι η Αγγλική αστυνομία γύρισε πρόσφατα βίντεο (βλ. “Sexual Consent and Τea”), για να διδαξει στους άντρες τα αυτονόητα. Μεταξύ άλλων και το πως όταν μια γυναίκα είναι αναίσθητη, καλό είναι να μην τη βιάσουν… (Προφανώς, υπάρχουν πολλοί Bill Cosby εκεί έξω…)

Τι αντιστάσεις νάχει αλήθεια ένα αγόρι, όταν μεγαλώνει μέσα σε ένα κόσμο που του επιβεβαιώνει από παντού το μήνυμα πως οι γυναίκες δεν είναι στην ουσία άνθρωποι, παρά σκόρπια ξεκάρφωτα μέλη που δικαιούται να εξαγοράσει ή να αρπάξει με τη βία και να χρησιμοποιήσει όπως και για όσο θέλει, σαν νάταν πράγματα; Και τι ελπίδες έχει και το κορίτσι να δει τον ίδιο τον εαυτό του σαν κάτι που έχει αξία, φωνή, δικαίωμα επιλογής, αξιοπρέπεια, δύναμη (πέρα από αυτή που εκφράζει με το σώμα της, και το ντύσιμο της, και πέρα από αυτή θα της δοθεί από κάποιον άντρα ακριβώς για το σώμα και το ντύσιμο της); Ειδικά στις γενιές των νέων που μεγάλωσαν με το Internet: Αγόρια εθισμένα στο πορνό και το μισογενισμό των video games, των comics, της hip-hop μουσικής, των video clips, της “νέας” τηλεόρασης. Κι ύστερα άντρες που δε θα μεγαλώσουν ποτέ, γιατί κανείς, πουθενά, και ποτέ, δε θα τους το ζητήσει να το κάνουν. Κορίτσια με ασχημάτιστο αυτοσυναίσθημα, που το μαθαίνουν από νωρίς το μάθημα τους πως δεν είναι παρά σώματα με ημερομηνία λήξης, και που γυρεύουν αδιάκοπα την αυτοεπιβεβαίωση στην αντρική ματιά – γιατί το ξέρουν πως δε θα έχουν έτσι κι αλλιώς την αγάπη. Που ξεδιψούν την ανάγκη τους για λίγη προσοχή, μέσα από την διαρκή έκθεση στα social media. Κι ύστερα γυναίκες τσακισμένες, που παραδίδουν το δικαίωμα επιλογής που έχει το κάθε ανθρώπινο πλάσμα, σε χέρια κατώτερων τους αντρών, θυματοποιώντας και οι ίδιες τους εαυτούς τους, αφού φοβούνται να πουν “όχι” σε όσα δεν τους αρέσουν, σε όσα τις περιορίζουν, μειώνουν, προσβάλουν, πληγώνουν, εξευτελίζουν, κακοποιούν. Για να μην μείνουν μόνες, για να μην φανούν “ψυχρές”, ανέραστες (οι μεγαλύτεροι φόβοι για τη σύγχρονη γυναίκα…)

Πως λοιπόν να μην γίνεται εθιστική η παρακολούθηση των καινούργιων τηλεοπτικών σειρών και ταινιών, αφού επιβεβαιώνουν ακριβώς αυτούς τους στέρεους μύθους;

Κι αν η νέα pop κουλτούρα είναι σημάδι πως ζούμε σ’ ένα άρρωστο κόσμο, ετοιμαστείτε. Ο ασθενής θα χειροτερέψει…

***

Από τον Hitchcock στο Game of Thrones – Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications.

Διαβάστε επίσης: Η Γενιά του Κοριτσιού με το Μουστάκι.

 http://wp.me/p7jQTY-d0



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Νέος Κόσμος. Made in China.

Έτσι παράγονται σήμερα τα μόνα ανταγωνίσιμα αγαθά, έτσι κτίζονται σήμερα οι υπερδυνάμεις: με μισθούς πείνας υπόδουλων λαών του Τρίτου Κόσμου, που εγκλωβισμένοι στα γρανάζια της μηχανής που τους έταξε κοινωνική ισότητα και τους τάισε υποδούλωση, ζουν την δική τους καθημερινή κόλαση στα εργοστάσια με την μαύρη καπνιά, συναρμολογώντας ολημερίς τα φτηνοπράγματα που θα καταλαγιάσουν προσωρινά τη καταναλωτική μας πείνα.

china fin new

Νέος Κόσμος. Made in China.

της Φανίτσας Πέτρου

Η σκιά του 9/11 είναι μακριά, και δεν μετέτρεψε απλά την Μέση Ανατολή σε ένα ηφαίστειο που ξερνά βία και πόνο, έφερε και αλλαγές στον Παγκόσμιο οικονομικό χάρτη. Ή τουλάχιστον επέσπευσε τα πράγματα. Η μεγάλη αφομοίωση, το λιώσιμο καλύτερα μέσα στο παγκόσμιο καζάνι άρχισε. Τη κουτάλα τη κρατούν οι Big Seven. Ο στόχος της δημιουργίας μιας παγκόσμιας αγοράς που θα διοικούν μια χούφτα πολυεθνικές, εφικτός πλέον. Ολόκληρες χώρες θυσιάζονται για να επιτευχθεί. Κι οι τύποι της Τρόικας και του Νομισματικού, με τις Ferre γραβάτες, τα άσπρα, άσπιλα πουκάμισα και τα παγωμένα, άδεια λες από ψυχή βλέμματα, βιώνουν τη κάθε κατρακύλα μας σα προσωπική τους νίκη. Σαν ένα ακόμα στόχο ζωής που επιτεύχθηκε στη λίστα με τα “οπωσδήποτε” τους. Τους φαντάζομαι να καπνίζουν πούρα, να ανοίγουν κρασιά πανάκριβα μετά από κάθε τέτοια “νίκη” τους, να κάνουν προπόσεις, με σηκωμένα ποτήρια. Να νοιάζονται για την ένταση του αρώματος, τη διαύγεια, το έτος παραγωγής, το πόσο τους στοίχισε, περισσότερο από το ποιούς επηρεάζει η κάθε απόφαση τους. Να εύχονται και εις ανώτερα ο ένας στον άλλο, μετά το τέλος κάθε συνάντησης με πολιτικούς των χωρών στον συλλογικό λαιμό των οποίων έβαλαν την θηλιά. Και τις νύχτες να κοιμούνται ήσυχοι. Μακάριοι.

Αυτοί που κινούν τα νήματα του νέου κόσμου, δεν είναι οι πολιτικοί άλλωστε, είναι οι τραπεζίτες, οι financial wizzards, οι τύποι των Hedge Funds, οι πολυεκατομμυριούχοι Furtune 500, οι αετονύχηδες των Χρηματιστηρίων που επιδίδονται καθημερινά στις “νόμιμες” απάτες τους, και τόχουν για καμάρι πως κερδίζουν εκατομμύρια σαν αποτέλεσμα της διάλυσης ανθρώπων, επιχειρήσεων και συχνά ολόκληρων χωρών. Αυτοί οι ανεκδιήγητοι Wolf-of-Wall-Street τύποι, που κάνουν τη μεγάλη ζωή κι αποκτηνώνονται από την πολλή δύναμη που έπεσε στα βρώμικα χέρια τους και που τροφοδοτούν τη σινεματική έμπνευση δημιουργών αδιάκοπα. Κι αν ο Scorsese μας έδωσε την εξωστρεφή manic πλευρά του τι σημαίνει νάχεις χάσει τη ψυχή σου στο δρόμο για τα λεφτά, ο David Cronenberg μας έδωσε την άλλη, την ανατριχιαστική όψη της παγωμένης ζωής των σαϊνιών του Χρηματιστηρίου στη κινηματογραφική μεταφορά του βιβλίου του Don DeLillo, Cosmopolis. Ο νεαρός Robert Pattinson του Twilight, σε μια ακόμα συνειδητή προφανώς προσπάθεια του να αποξενωθεί από το fanbase του των εφήβων κοριτσιών που στριγγλίζουν το όνομα του με έκσταση, παίζει συγκρατημένα, ψυχρά – έτσι όπως αρμόζει – το ρόλο του μεγιστάνα που ζει τη αποστειρωμένη όσο και στερημένη από νόημα ζωή του από το εσωτερικό της λιμουζίνας του, γιατί – όντας ένα τυπικό παράδειγμα του είδους του – έχασε κάθε επαφή με την πραγματικότητα.

Αυτοί οι τύποι που δεν υπάρχει πιθανότητα να βασανιστούν ποτέ από ηθικά διλήμματα αν είναι αυτά να μπουν εμπόδιο μπροστά στο κέρδος τους. Αυτοί οι τύποι σαν τον χρηματιστή Martin Shkreli, τον πιο μισητό άνθρωπο στην Αμερική (και τέλειο εκπρόσωπο του “είδους”), η εταιρεία του οποίου αγόρασε την φαρμακευτική άδεια για το φάρμακο Daraprim που δίνεται σε καρκινοπαθείς και ασθενείς με Aids ή Μαλάρια, και έχοντας πλέον το μονοπώλιο του στην αγορά, ανέβασε τη τιμή του από $13.50 σε $750 για κάθε χάπι! Αύξηση δηλαδή που φτάνει το 5,455%. Πόσες λάθος στροφές πρέπει άραγε να πάρει η ψυχή σου για να σε ξεστρατίσει τόσο; Για να βρεθείς στο μέρος εκείνο που η ανάγκη σου για κέρδος είναι ο μόνος νόμος μέσα σου; Όταν ρωτήθηκε γιατί το έκανε, η κυνική απάντηση του ήταν πως δεν το θεωρεί έγκλημα. Το ίδιο θα έκανε κάποιος και αν αγόραζε μια εταιρεία αυτοκινήτων άλλωστε. Σίγουρος πως το ίδιο πράγμα είναι. Φανερά υπερήφανος για το κατόρθωμα του. Δεν είναι άλλωστε τυχαίο που οι Αγγλοσάξωνες λένε “lets make a killing” κάθε φορά που ετοιμάζονται να μεγαλώσουν τα κέρδη τους. Γιατί όντως πρέπει νάχεις μέσα σου ένα δολοφονικό ένστικτο για να μπορείς να παραβλέπεις τέτοιες λεπτομέρειες, όπως το γεγονός ότι άνθρωποι πεθαίνουν σαν αποτέλεσμα του κέρδους σου… (Στην περίπτωση του πιο πάνω τύπου, πιθανώς κυριολεκτικά)

Mα αναγκαίο κακό οι χρηματιστές και τα χρηματιστήρια στις σύγχρονες οικονομίες. Αν είναι να συγκεντρωθεί ο πλούτος στα χέρια των λίγων, σωστά; Το τραίνο που οδηγεί στα εκατομμύρια δε σηκώνει πολλούς. Έτσι όπως αναγκαίο κακό είναι κι οι καρχαρίες στο οικοσύστημα των ωκεανών… Τι κι αν ταρακουνήθηκαν τα θεμέλια του συστήματος που τα τρέφει, με το κραχ του 2008? Τι κι αν βριντοφώναξαν με τις μικρές φωνές τους οι αδικημένοι της γης στα Occupy Wall Street κινήματα ανά το κόσμο το 2011; Στο τέλος της μέρας, οι καρχαρίες έχουν το τρόπο τους. Η ζωή για κείνους είναι : “buy and sell.” Είναι “lets have lunch”, όπως λέει και ο ανθρωπάκος με το στόμα του Paul Giamatti στο Cosmpolis. Τι κι αν σκαρφιζόμαστε ονόματα για τα κοινωνικά συστήματα; (Καπιταλισμοί, Κουμουνισμοί και δε συμμαζεύεται). Στο τέλος της μέρας το μόνο που κάνουν είναι τη ανακατανωμή του πλούτου και των προνομίων, το πέρασμα τους σε άλλα χέρια. Στο τέλος της μέρας, πάντα το 1% θα βρεθεί στην απέναντι όχθη από το 99%. Αναπόφευχτα. Προβλέψιμα.

Ενώ ανταλλάζουμε γλυκερά ρητά στο Facebook, ο κόσμος αλλάζει γύρω μας. Κι ας μην το παίρνουμε μυρωδιά. Η μέση τάξη εξαφανίζεται, κι ο Μεγάλος Αδελφός μετενσαρκώνεται σε τραπεζίτη: oδηγούμαστε σταδιακά σε ένα κόσμο όπου θα καταργηθούν οι πληρωμές με μετρητά, οι προσωπικές συναλλαγές μεταξύ ηθικά και νομικά υπόλογων στις πράξεις τους ανθρώπων – αντί απρόσωπων οργανισμών που έχουν το τρόπο τους να δρουν πέρα από νόμους. Για να γίνεται ο έλεχγος των μικρών από τράπεζες και κράτη, ευκολότερος. Για να προστατευτούν, για να δυναμώσουν ανενόχλητοι, οι μεγάλοι. Οι γραφειοκράτες, οι χρηματιστές, οι τράπεζες, οι πολυεθνικές. (Η αντίστροφη μέτρηση άρχισε. Αν αφουγκραστείς θα τα ακούσεις τα γρανάζια που γυρνάνε ήδη) Δε θάμαστε πλέον το σύνολο των εμπειριών ή των αναμνήσεων μας, μα των αγορών μας Η κάθε συναλλαγή μας θα καταγράφεται λοιπόν, και θα’ναι καθρέπτης της ζωής μας. Της κάθε μας ανάγκης. Θα μας κατατάσσει σε χρήσιμες για τους εμπόρους του κόσμου λίστες. Θα μας κάνει νούμερα σε στατιστικές αναφορές που θα αυξήσουν τον τζίρο τους. Και τη δύναμη που θ’ ασκούν πάνω μας. Η κάθε λεπτομέρεια της ζωής μας εύκολα προσβάσιμη. Όλοι μας αινίγματα με εύκολες λύσεις, με κλειδιά που διαβάζονται στα statements των πιστωτικών καρτών μας, και στα cache των διαδυκτιακών αναζητήσεων μας. Η κάθε αγορά μας να μας καθορίζει, έτσι όπως δε καθορίστηκε ποτέ κανείς στην ιστορία της ανθρωπότητας.

Κι η στάμπα του “Made in China” να είναι πλέον πάνω στο κάθε προϊόν που μπορεί να σταθεί σήμερα στο εμπόριο. Όλα τα υπόλοιπα καταρρέουν σαν σπίτια από χαρτιά. Οι αδύναμοι να αναμετρηθούν με τα Κινέζικα προϊόντα, διαλύονται. Οι υπόλοιποι, οι έξυπνοι, κάνουν outsourcing σε Κινέζικα εργοστάσια. Κι είναι ο μόνος τρόπος για να επιβιώσουν. Έτσι παράγονται σήμερα τα μόνα ανταγωνίσιμα αγαθά, έτσι κτίζονται σήμερα οι υπερδυνάμεις: με μισθούς πείνας υπόδουλων λαών του Τρίτου Κόσμου, που εγκλωβισμένοι στα γρανάζια της μηχανής που τους έταξε κοινωνική ισότητα και τους τάισε υποδούλωση, ζουν την δική τους καθημερινή κόλαση στα εργοστάσια με την μαύρη καπνιά που ξερνούν απόβλητα στα κατάμαυρα πια ποτάμια. Συναρμολογώντας ολημερίς τα φτηνοπράγματα που θα καταλαγιάσουν προσωρινά τη καταναλωτική μας πείνα. Αυτό είναι λέει το μέλλον του κόσμου. Κι οι Νεοφιλελεύθεροι Δυτικοί να ακονίζουν τα νύχια. Κι όσοι δεν διαλύθηκαν από το ανταγωνισμό με τέτοιες αγορές, να γονατίζουν από τους δικούς τους κανόνες.

Τώρα που και μεις ανήκουμε στη μεγάλη οικογένεια της Ευρώπης, πρέπει λέει και εμείς μοιραστούμε το “όραμα” των Νεοφιλελευθέρων για το νέο κόσμο. Και θα το πληρώσουμε το τίμημα. Μέχρι που όλες οι μικρομεσαίες επιχειρήσεις θα κλείσουν μια μια, μέχρι που όλες οι φωνές οι αλλιώτικες θα σωπάσουν, μέχρι που θα γίνουμε όλοι υπάλληλοι των πολυεθνικών, υπάκουοι, ευγνώμονες, υπόλογοι στις εταιρικές βλακείες τους. Ανίκανοι όχι απλά να αρθρώσουμε γνώμες δικές μας, μα εντέλει και να τις αφήσουμε να σχηματιστούν μες το μυαλό μας.

***

March 25, 2016

Νέος Κόσμος. Made in China – Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorised use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications.

Διαβάστε επίσης: http://wp.me/p7jQTY-ci



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Αναπόφευκτες Συγκρίσεις

…Η θεωρία του Godwin (“Godwin’s Law”) έχει βάση: αργά ή γρήγορα, όλες οι συζητήσεις (και όχι μόνο στο Internet) καταλήγουν σε αναφορές για τους Ναζί και τον Χίτλερ. Ίσως γιατί έγιναν σύμβολα πλέον, καθώς υπήρξαν μια αρχετυπική σχεδόν ενσάρκωση του κακού, το είδος που συναντά κανείς μόνο σε comics με σούπερ ήρωες παρά στην αληθινή ζωή με τις χιλιάδες διαβαθμίσεις του γκρίζου, και το περιθώριο για αμφιλεγόμενες εξηγήσεις των πραγμάτων.

refugees suitcase layerSMALL

 Αναπόφευκτες Συγκρίσεις

της Φανίτσας Πέτρου

Το μεταναστευτικό ζήτημα – ειδικά των Σύριων προσφύγων που κατακλύζουν μαζικά την Ευρώπη – εξακολουθεί να κυριαρχεί στις ειδήσεις. Τι κι αν είναι στη πλειοψηφία τους θύματα ακριβώς της ίδιας βίας που προκλήθηκε στις επιθέσεις της Βηρυτού, του Παρισιού, του Μάλι; Αντιμετωπίζονται από τις περισσότερες Ευρωπαϊκές χώρες εχθρικά, και γίνονται οι αποδιοπομπαίοι τράγοι της υπόθεσης. Θύματα ξανά, καινούργιας βίας.

Στη Σουηδία, οι χώροι φιλοξενίας των αιτητών ασύλου, γίνονται επανειλημμένα στόχος εμπρηστών. Η Σουηδία ξεκινά επίσης ελέγχους διαβατηρίων στα σύνορα της με τη Δανία (γυρίζοντας τις σχέσεις των δύο χωρών πίσω στη δεκαετία του ’50) με σκοπό να περιοριστεί η ανεξέλεγκτη έλευση μεταναστών. Στη Γερμανία, η ακροδεξιά οργάνωση Pegida, δυναμώνει ολοένα και χρησιμοποιεί τη ρητορική του Χίτλερ για να ξυπνήσει μέσα στο μέσο Γερμανό πολίτη το ρατσιστικό μένος, ενώ η Μέρκελ, καταδίκασε πρόσφατα την επίθεση με μαχαίρι που δέχτηκε ανεξάρτητη υποψήφια για το δήμο της Κολονίας με αφορμή τη βοήθεια που πρόσφερε στους αιτητές ασύλου. (Η είδηση είναι μάλλον ο σοκαρισμός της Μέρκελ. Ποιος είπε πως οι Γερμανοί δεν έχουν χιούμορ;) Ο δήμαρχος της Ουγγρικής πόλης Asotthalom γύρισε βίντεο στο οποίο ποζάρει σαν macho ήρωας, παρέα με αστυνομικούς και άντρες με στρατιωτικές στολές σε περιπολικά αυτοκίνητα και μοτοσυκλέτες, για να δώσει το μήνυμα στους μετανάστες πως, όπως λέει “ Η Ουγγαρία είναι κακή επιλογή. Το Asotthalom η χειρότερη” (No kiddin!) Η Δανία προσφέρει καταφύγιο και εργασία σε μικρό αριθμό προσφύγων με τη προϋπόθεση πως δεν θα απαιτήσουν να πληρωθούν για τη δουλειά τους. (Έτσι ακριβώς όπως και στην εποχή που η σκλαβιά ήταν νόμιμη δηλαδή). Δημοσίευσε επίσης αγγελίες στα Αραβικά, σε Λιβανέζικες εφημερίδες καλώντας τους μετανάστες να μην την διαλέξουν για προορισμό. Η Πολωνία εκφράζει έντονους φόβους για τις συνέπειες που θα προκληθούν από Σύριους – ή οποιουσδήποτε μετανάστες – στον ομοιογενή Πολωνικό πληθυσμό της, κι ας είναι η μετανάστευση των δικών της πολιτών σε άλλες χώρες, από χρόνια μαζική. Αντιρατσιστικές οργανώσεις της Γαλλίας υπέβαλαν δε μήνυση στη Μαρίν Λεπέν, γιατί υποκινεί το ρατσιστικό μίσος κατά των Μουσουλμάνων αλλοδαπών. Την ενοχλεί ιδιαίτερα το γεγονός ότι απλώνουν τα χαλάκια της προσευχής τους στα πεζοδρόμια σε γειτονιές που δεν υπάρχουν τεμένη, γιατί αυτό το θεωρεί σαν Ισλαμική κατοχή της χώρας της… (Τι θάπρεπε να πουν τότε οι Αραβικές χώρες  – Αλγερία, Μαρόκο, Τυνησία, Αιγυπτος, Λίβανος, Συρία) που υπήρξαν κατα καιρούς Γαλλικές αποικίες ή υπό Γαλλική κατοχή;) Η Σλοβενία ανακοίνωσε πως θα δεχτεί μόνο Χριστιανούς μετανάστες γιατί λέει δεν έχει τεμένη (!) ενώ χρησιμοποιεί ενισχυμένες στρατιωτικές δυνάμεις για τον έλεγχο των συνόρων της. Η κυβέρνηση της Κροατίας ετοιμάζετε να κτίσει φράκτη στα σύνορα με τη Σερβία για να κρατήσει μακριά τους Σύριους πρόσφυγες. Πράγμα που πρότεινε και ο Ντόναλτ Τραμπ άλλωστε, για τα σύνορα των ΗΠΑ με το Μεξικό: να κτιστεί δηλαδή ψηλό τοίχος για να κρατήσει τους Μεξικανούς μετανάστες μακριά, γιατί είναι λέει όλοι τους βιαστές… Άλλωστε το ρατσιστικό μένος του κατά των Μουσουλμάνων, και των αλλοδαπών, ειδικά των Λατίνων, είναι η βάση πάνω στην οποία έκτισε την προεκλογική του εκστρατεία για το χρίσμα των Ρεπουμπλικάνων. Οι οπαδοί του συνεχίζουν να επιτίθενται σε Λατίνους μετανάστες και μέλη αντιρατσιστικών οργανώσεων. Κι αυτό είναι ιδιαίτερα ειρωνικό, δεδομένου ότι ο κάθε Αμερικανός, είναι ή κατάγεται από μετανάστες… Τα λόγια στη πλακέτα του Αγάλματος της Ελευθερίας που καλούν τους κατατρεγμένους της γης, τους άστεγους, τους φτωχούς, τα πλήθη που διψούν για ελευθερία να βρουν καταφύγιο κάτω από τη υψωμένη δάδα της, ακούγονται από τους Ρεπουμπλικάνους σαν απειλές πια. Κι ας ήταν ελπίδα σωτηρίας για κάποιο πιθανότατα όχι και τόσο μακρινό πρόγονο του καθενός τους.

Η Γερμανία ωστόσο, άνοιξε τα σύνορα της, και δέχεται μαζικά τους Σύριους αιτητές ασύλου. Και το κάνει με ένα τυπικά Γερμανικό τρόπο, τύπου: “εμείς είμαστε οι καλύτεροι στο κόσμο ακόμα και σε αυτό!” Γερμανοί πολίτες στέκονται ας πούμε στους σταθμούς των τρένων και χειροκροτούν τους μετανάστες που μπαίνουν στη χώρα, τους βοηθούν να μεταφράσουν τα έγγραφα τους, τους δανείζουν τα ποδήλατα τους, τους παίρνουν στο γιατρό κλπ. Κι όσο κι αν φαίνεται νάναι αξιέπαινο, κάτι δε μας κάθεται κάλα… Όσοι έχουν ζήσει στη Γερμανία σα μετανάστες, δουλεύοντας σκληρά για δεκαετίες, εκφράζουν φόβους για το μέλλον των προσφύγων. Ζήσαν έτσι κι αλλιώς σε μια εντελώς διαφορετική Γερμανία από αυτή που βιώνουν οι τουρίστες, οι επαγγελματικοί ταξιδιώτες και οι φοιτητές που σπουδάζουν εκεί. Μιλούν λοιπόν για ένα διαρκή passive aggressive ρατσισμό που υποβόσκει. Για τα σχόλια όχι Νεοναζί Γερμανών, μα καθημερινών, ανοιχτόμυαλων κατά τα άλλα ανθρώπων, που τους θύμιζαν όμως καθημερινά και επί χρόνια, πως θα έπρεπε να νιώθουν πολύ τυχεροί που τους αφήνουν να μένουν στη χώρα τους. Η πολύχρονη προσφορά τους στη Γερμανική οικονομία η οποία έτσι κι αλλιώς τους χρειάζεται, και συνεπώς και η προσφορά τους στη τσέπη και των όσων κάνουν τέτοιες δηλώσεις, δεν λογαριάζεται. Μόνο η μεγαλοθυμία των ίδιων να τους ανέχονται. Ακόμα και σήμερα που οι σύγχρονοι Γερμανοί στέκονται στους σταθμούς των τρένων κρατώντας πανό με καρδούλες, δεν παύουν να κάνουν και δηλώσεις του τύπου “Ας έρθουν, αλλά γιατί να μην ζουν πολλές οικογένειες σε ένα σπίτι;” Γιατί δηλαδή να έχουν απαίτηση να ζουν σαν άνθρωποι; Το να είσαι λοιπόν οικονομικός μετανάστης στη Γερμανία δεν είναι ίσως και τόσο φανταστικό. Είναι ένα προνόμιο που έχει τιμήματα, και που δε θα σε αφήσουν και να το ξεχάσεις ποτέ.

syrian refugees layer1bΊσως οι Γερμανοί να γυρεύουν πραγματικά να επανορθώσουν το συλλογικό κακό που προκάλεσαν στο κόσμο στον εικοστό αιώνα, (άλλωστε η βίαιη προσφυγοποίηση Εβραίων που έφευγαν για να γλιτώσουν το Ολοκαύτωμα, ήταν αυτό που γέννησε την Συνθήκη της Γενεύης για τους πρόσφυγες), κι αυτή φαίνεται να είναι η δημοφιλέστερη ερμηνεία που δίνεται από ακαδημαϊκούς για τη στάση της Γερμανικής κυβέρνησης: η προσπάθεια δηλαδή να αποσείσουν από πάνω τους τη ρετσινιά του “ugly German” που ενισχύθηκε και κατά τη δεκαετία του ’90, όταν οι μετανάστες δέχονταν μαζικά επιθέσεις Νεοναζιστικών οργανώσεων, χωρίς κανένας να κάνει τίποτε να τους εμποδίσει. Η σημερινή στάση των Γερμανών, φαίνεται να επιδιώκει την ανατροπή της παλιάς αρνητικής εικόνας. Οι Σύριοι αιτητές ασύλου στα σύνορα Ουγγαρίας που φωνάζαν ρυθμικά, με μια φωνή “Germany! Germany!” (Λέξεις που κανείς δε θα περίμενε ποτέ να ακούσει να προφέρονται με τέτοια έκσταση από οποιοδήποτε βρίσκεται στο κοινωνικό περιθώριο), σκέφτονται στην απελπισία τους το δωρεάν πιάτο φαΐ και το μηνιαίο επίδομα των €143 που θα λαμβάνουν για τους πρώτους μήνες της παραμονής τους στους χώρους φιλοξενίας προσφύγων της χώρας αυτής, μα τι θα ακολουθήσει άραγε;

Η Μέρκελ επιχειρηματολογεί υπέρ των αιτητών ασύλου, και διαβεβαιώνει τους συμπατριώτες της πως η βοήθεια προς αυτούς, δε θα επηρεάσει με κανένα τρόπο τον ισολογισμό του κράτους, και πως δε θα προκαλέσει καμιά αύξηση φορολογιών. (Όσο αφορούσε την βοήθεια προς την Ελλάδα, χρησιμοποιούσε ακριβώς τα αντίθετα επιχειρήματα βέβαια. Επιχειρήματα που εν τέλει την ανέβασαν και στη εξουσία) Δε σταματά βέβαια και να τονίζει πως δε θα ανεχθούν να μην κάνει το καθήκον της και η Ελλάδα, η Ιταλία, κι η Ουγγαρία (ειδικά οι δύο πρώτες, που ανήκουν στη ομάδα των PIGS (Πορτογαλία / Ιταλία / Ελλάδα / Ισπανία): αν είναι να γονατίσουν αβοήθητες από το καινούργιο βάρος, αυτό θα ήταν ίσως ένα έξτρα bonus…)

Το κρυφό κίνητρο για την αλλαγή στάσης των σημερινών Γερμανών που κρύβεται πίσω από την νέα τους ταυτότητα των σωτήρων των κατατρεγμένων της γης, ίσως έχει να κάνει λιγότερο με την ανάγκη τους να δημιουργήσουν μια εικόνα μιας “νέας Γερμανίας”, και ακόμα λιγότερο με τη συμπόνια. Ίσως να έχει να κάνει περισσότερο με τη διαπίστωση πως ο πληθυσμός της χώρας τους – όπως και των περισσότερων στην Ευρώπη – γερνά, (ως το 2050, ο πληθυσμός της Γερμανίας θα μειωθεί κατά 14,7%!) Κι αυτό μας φαίνεται πιο πιστευτό σαν εξήγηση. Είναι πολύ καλοί έτσι κι αλλιώς στο να προγραμματίζουν το μέλλον… Έχει άλλωστε εφευρεθεί από κυβερνητικές υπηρεσίες και ειδικός όρος (Willkommenskultur), που εκφράζει ακριβώς αυτό το πράγμα που ξανά υποδηλεί προγραμματισμό και προμελέτηση που έχει να κάμει με το συμφέρον της χώρας, παρά αθώα, πηγαία, ξαφνική έκρηξη συναισθημάτων αλληλεγγύης προς τους κατακαημένους πρόσφυγες. Willkommenskultur λοιπόν σημαίνει “ένα φιλικό περιβάλλον ή κουλτούρα” προς τους ξένους, ένα είδος “πολιτιστικού” ανοίγματος δηλαδή προς αυτούς, έτσι που να γίνει η Γερμανία ελκυστικός προορισμός για μετανάστες που έχουν ακριβώς εκείνα που χρειάζεται η Γερμανική οικονομία. Οι λόγοι είναι σαφείς όσο και ψυχρά προμελετημένοι, που όπως λέει και η συγγραφέας του blog https://mygermandiction.wordpress.com/ είναι “to import human capital”. Ποιος από μας δεν ανατριχιάζει αλήθεια με το τρόπο που είναι διατυπωμένη η φράση αυτή; Άλλα και ποιος αλήθεια εκπλήσσεται; Το συγκεκριμένο πάντως “ανθρώπινο κεφάλαιο” που επιθυμούν να “εισάξουν”, δεν το θέλουν να προέρχεται από Βαλκανικές χώρες και οπωσδήποτε όχι από μετανάστες με καταγωγή τσιγγάνικη (Roma)… Είπαμε Willkommenskultur, αλλά να μη ξεχνιόμαστε κιόλας…

Η δυνατή οικονομία της Γερμανίας χρειάζεται απελπισμένα τα εργατικά χέρια χαμηλόμισθων και νεαρών σε ηλικία αλλοδαπών εργατών και τεχνιτών, για να μη χάσει τη θέση της στην οικονομική ηγεσία της Ευρώπης. Τι θα γίνει όμως με όσους δε ανήκουν σε αυτή τη κατηγορία; Η Γερμανική ιστορία των τελευταίων δεκαετιών, μας κάνει να κάνουμε άθελα μας σκοτεινές σκέψεις. Όχι πως μας επιτρέπετε βέβαια. Είναι γνωστό πως η οποιαδήποτε αναφορά στη Ναζιστική Γερμανία είναι ταμπού, λες και ποτέ δεν υπήρξε σα πραγματικότητα. Κι ας ήταν η σκοτεινότερη της σύγχρονης Ιστορίας. Στο Internet ας πούμε, είναι γνωστό πως οποιοσδήποτε blogger ή σχολιαστής συγκρίνει κάτι αρνητικό με τους Ναζί, αναιρεί αυτόματα την αξία των επιχειρημάτων του… Το είδαμε και με τον Βαρουφάκη: οι αναφορές του σε πραγματικά γεγονότα που συνέβησαν στην Ελλάδα το ’40, μα και ο παραλληλισμός της Χρυσής Αυγής με τα ακροδεξιά Γερμανικά κινήματα του ‘30-‘40, (σύγκριση που έκανε για να τονίσει το ότι μόνο κακά γεννιούνται από μια κατεστραμμένη οικονομικά χώρα), τον μετέτρεψαν στα μάτια των ξένων ανταποκριτών αυτόματα σε άπειρο διαπραγματευτή, ανίκανο να παίξει το παιγνίδι της σύγχρονης διπλωματίας.

Ακόμα κι όταν είναι ακόμα ζωντανοί και θύτες και θύματα, ακόμα και όταν βγαίνουν και σήμερα στην επιφάνεια ιστορίες τρόμου που μας θυμίζουν αδιάκοπα το απόλυτο κακό της Ναζιστής Γερμανίας, εμείς οφείλουμε να τις αγνοούμε. Όπως παραδείγματος χάρη η ιστορία της Ιρλανδής Kari Rovall, η οποία πρόσφατα, στα 64 της χρόνια, έμαθε πως η γέννηση της ήταν το αποτέλεσμα ενός ακόμα πειράματος των Ναζί, του προγράμματος “αναπαραγωγής” (λες και είχαν να κάνουν με ζώα!) με το όνομα “The Spring of Life”: Γερμανοί στρατιώτες ταξίδευαν σε Βόρειες, κυρίως Σκανδιναβικές χώρες και ζευγάρωναν (βλ. βίαζαν) ξανθές, γαλανομάτισσες γυναίκες, και όταν αυτές έμεναν έγκυοι, τους έπαιρναν τα παιδιά για να τα μεγαλώσουν σε κρατικά ιδρύματα για να γίνουν κάποτε οι πρόδρομοι της “τέλειας” Αρίας Φυλής, όταν προφανώς θα ξεφορτώνονταν όλο τον μελαχρινό, και γι αυτό πιο-κάτω-από-τέλειο πληθυσμό της γης…

(βλ: http://www.irishcentral.com/roots/history/-Dublin-woman-discovers-dark-past-she-was-born-into-Nazi-breeding-program.html)

Η θεωρία του Godwin (“Godwin’s Law”) έχει βάση: αργά ή γρήγορα, όλες οι συζητήσεις (και όχι μόνο στο Internet) καταλήγουν σε αναφορές για τους Ναζί και τον Χίτλερ. Ίσως γιατί έγιναν σύμβολα πλέον, καθώς υπήρξαν μια αρχετυπική σχεδόν, ενσάρκωση του κακού, το είδος που συναντά κανείς μόνο σε comics με σούπερ ήρωες παρά στην αληθινή ζωή με τις χιλιάδες διαβαθμίσεις του γκρίζου, και το περιθώριο για αμφιλεγόμενες εξηγήσεις των πραγμάτων. Τα όσα συνέβησαν το ’40, άλλωστε, δεν ήταν απλά οι θηριωδίες που γεννά ο κάθε πόλεμος από την αρχή του κόσμου, δεν ήταν απλά αποτέλεσμα άγνοιας, φόβου, απληστίας, εγωιστικής ανάγκης για επιβίωση (οι συνήθεις ύποπτοι πίσω από κάθε βίαιη πράξη, πίσω από κάθε πόλεμο) μα μακριάς, προμελετημένης προσεχτικά δομημένης θεωρίας, που δε θα είχε καμιά δύναμη στη συντριπτική πλειοψηφία των Γερμανών πολιτών, αν απουσίαζε η ήδη υπάρχουσα πεποίθηση τους πως είναι ανώτεροι από οποιοδήποτε άλλο λαό. Κι είναι επικίνδυνη μια τέτοια πεποίθηση. Και δύσκολα ανατρέψιμη. Ποτίστηκε στις ψυχές των ανθρώπων με προσοχή, κι άπλωσε ρίζες βαθιές που δεν μπορεί παρά να απλώνονται και στις επόμενες γενιές με κάποιο τρόπο: αν έχεις ένα παππού που έκανε όσα ένας serial killer θα θεωρούσε αποτρόπαια, δε σημαίνει φυσικά πως θα τα κάνεις και σύ, μα μπορεί και να σημαίνει πως τα θεωρείς λιγότερο αποτρόπαια από κάποιο που μεγάλωσε αλλιώτικα. Μπορεί και να σημαίνει δηλαδή πως η απόσταση που έχεις να καλύψεις είναι μεγαλύτερη. Ίσως λοιπόν κάποιες όχι και τόσο παλιές τάσεις να επιβιώνουν τις δεκαετίες (στην πολιτική του Γερμανικού κράτους πάντως, σίγουρα) Αν όχι σαν καθαρόαιμος ρατσισμός, τότε σαν προκατάληψη. Ή σαν αδυναμία να δεις όσους είναι διαφορετικοί από σένα ή βρίσκονται στο κοινωνικό περιθώριο, σαν κάτι παραπάνω από τούβλα που θα οικοδομήσουν το μέλλον σου, θα εξυπηρετήσουν τους σκοπούς σου. Να τους δεις σαν άξιους όχι απλά του οίκτου σου, μα και του σεβασμού σου.

Οι δεκαετίες πέρασαν, μα δεν είναι και τόσο απομακρυσμένες. Η προσποίηση πως όλα όσα συνέβηκαν το ’40 ανήκουν στη σφαίρα του φανταστικού, ή στα βάθη κάποιας αρχαίας ιστορίας είναι γελοία, και το να πούμε πως κανένας σύγχρονος Γερμανός δεν έχει καμιά από τις απόψεις των παλιότερων γενιών, είναι εξίσου ηλίθιο με το να πούμε πως όλοι οι σύγχρονοι Γερμανοί έχουν ακριβώς αυτό. Κι αν καμιά φορά γίνονται αναπόφευκτες, και ίσως εξαιρετικά άδικες συγκρίσεις της παλιάς με τη σύγχρονη Γερμανία, ας μας συγχωρεθεί. Έτσι όπως ζητείται και από μας αδιάκοπα να συγχωρούμε το παρελθόν της…

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 Αναπόφευκτες Συγκρίσεις – Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications.


(Κείμενο γραμμένο τον Οκτώβρη του 2015)

Διαβάστε επίσης: http://wp.me/s7jQTY-211


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ADELE – She had us at “Hello”

You are half expecting to see Steve McQueen on a Vespa, or at the very least, Pierce Brosnan in his forties, wearing a white tuxedo… 
adele Scan 2 sm

She had us at “Hello”By Fanitsa Petrou

(A Review of Adele’s new Album )

 Don’t underestimate pop music. Jazz may be the coolest thing, soul and blues may be underground passages reaching to the depths of our darkest, rawest self, but pop? Pop is the music of our youth, and the music we most associate with memories. It is the soundtrack of our falling in and out of love, and Adele’s brand of pop music in particular, is the soundtrack of our break ups. She can always be trusted to take us there, to that place of sorrow and loss, even if it’s been years since we last visited it.

Now–a-days not many things are considered “an event”. We are constantly bombarded with “new’ info (80% of which involving cat videos, brides falling down –always satisfying – and buzzfeed-like quizzes: “Which Muppet R U? / “Are you a Ross or a Rachel?” et.) that demands our attention in a multitude of media platforms. As a result, very few things can really cause us to be prompted into anticipation, and a new album coming out, is not something for which we are holding our breath (unless one is a thirteen, and the album is One Direction’s) But Adele’s “25” (her third album) did the trick. It stopped us dead in our tracks and broke the Internet while doing it! That video clip from the track “Hello”, with her calling a guy from her past, the scenes from their relationship and break up captured in sepia tones, the Winter landscape with the windy lake and the abandoned phone booth, and her heavily mascaraed eyes looking directly at the camera, are already part of pop culture history.

It is no wonder then that the minute the video clip of “Hello” appeared on Youtube, it sprang all sorts of exultant as well as funny reactions on both sides of the Atlantic. (Not to mention that it got 27.7 million views in the first 24 hours of its appearance, reaching a billion in its first week of release, which translated into a 3.38 million copies sold!) Sir David Attenborough for example, was asked to narrate the video in the manner of his Nature documentaries; Ellen Degeneres played out a sketch pretending to be at the other end of that phone call; Miss Piggy from the new Muppet show reprised the video with her usual panache; James Corden from the Late Late Show created a Halloween parody; while Jimmy Fallon and the Roots sang with her, using children’s musical instruments. Even the cast of the SNL show paid homage to the song in their Thanksgiving skit, with Matthew McConaughey who was that week’s presenter, dressed as her. Not to mention the endless parodies and covers by wannabe singers and comedians, including a number of ones juxtaposing Adele’s “Hello” with Lionel Richie’s own “Hello”…. (Though one has to note that when it comes to hopeful wannabe singers, the uploading of their own covers of the song, just hours after it was out, is not a sign of how good they are. It is a kind of vampirism: they should have at least waited until the actual creator of the song had had her day in the Sun, before they claimed theirs… )

There are many songs that moved us, which came out in these last couple of years (Hozier’s “Take Me To Church”, James Bay’s “Let it Go”, Ed Sheeran’s “Make it Rain”, Sia’s “Chandelier”, Imagine Dragons“Radioactive”James Arthur’s “Recovery”, Labrinth‘s “Jealous”, come to mind), but let us be honest: we don’t much care for the rest of the tracks on those records. But when it comes to Adele’ s music, every song demands and deserves our attention, and we listen to it like we used to listen to music back when we were young, when artists didn’ t focus so much on instant hits and singles. Back in the day when we would listen to say, the “Joshua Tree” album (“The Wall” of my generation) over and over again, finding each song to be equally good and eventually, turning them all into the soundtrack of our memories.

So yes “25” is a kind of an “event”, and it’s a beautiful album. In terms of production, it is more “polished”. Stylistically, the Montown, the Jazzy, the Country subtle influences of “21” are hardly there, but she adds some new colours to her palette: A “Florence and the Machine”-like quality in “I Miss you” , a gospel influence in “River Lea” and “Water Under the Bridge”, but this is still a record with her own brand of powerful, Chanson Française-like, old school, elegiac ballads. And even though she is happier in her personal life, (she found love, she had a kid), this is still an album that speaks mainly about break ups, and the murky waters of relationships gone sour.

“Hello” , the first single, is of course the front-runner. It is the big song of the album, in the manner of how “Chasing Pavements” was for “19” (her first album), and “Someone Like You” was for “21” (her second album). And it is the type of song that you will want to play over and over again. (Preferably in the proximity of a box of Kleenex…) The roles are seemingly flipped here: she is the one who has done the leaving, caused the heartache, but apparently she doesn’t really refer to a lover. She reaches instead out to a younger iteration of herself “from the other side” – hence the flip phone and the land lines which have made a come back in the video clip. The song sets the tone lyrically for the whole album: reconciling with one’s self, rather than reacting to how you’ve been hurt by the Other. Her voice soaring on the big notes, desperate to make amends, to seek forgiveness, to heal her pain (“I’aint done much healing”) is breaking our heart. The outcome can be predicted with certainty: revisiting the past is for her, as for all of us, necessary but also futile, an emotional dead end – there’s always nobody at the other end of that line. Our younger self cannot be reached and forced to be wiser…

“A Million Years ago” on the other hand, with just a gently plucked guitar accompanying her, is a gem of a song that will have you choking up for a completely different reason. Stylistically, it is a “The Windmills of Your Mind” type of song, that you would hear at the opening credits of a 60’s–like, cat burglar movie. (You are half expecting to see Steve McQueen on a Vespa, or at the very least, Pierce Brosnan in his forties, wearing a white tuxedo…), but as soon as she starts singing, you realize that this is actually not another love song. She sings about what it means to deal with fame, and about her longing to go back to the familiar place of her youth, and one suspects of her days of anonymity and care free existence, back when people could still “look her in the eye” Poor little rich girl you may suggest, but I dare you not to cry when you first listen to it…

“All I ask”, which was co-written with Bruno Mars, is another heart wrenching song about the final night before a separation. Acoustic, with just piano accompaniment, gentle and naked, it stands up there with “Turning Tables” and “Take it All”. While “When we were Young”, which was co-written by Tobias Jesso Jr., takes us back to that old “kill-me-now-place”. She sings about coming across an old boyfriend and that familiar feeling of nostalgia and pain and regret that comes with that.

Her new songs are emotional, at times intimate, still melancholic, and still made exceptional by her soaring vocals, the warmth of her performance. Her voice is clearer, bigger than ever here, her razor sharp pitch amplifying every nuance, with the Amy Winehouse-like whimsy of “19” and the raspy raw quality of “21” almost gone. This is still an album about loss, regret and the kind of love that tears you apart. The only exceptions being the haunting and sensual “I Miss You”, and the sweet “Remedy”, (the only 2 “happy” love songs of the record), and the “Sweetest Devotion”, an upbeat track which was written for her son, and which lyrically is the one closest to the type of writing she mastered on “19”: words that cut through like bullets, instead of proper phrases. The theme that runs through the rest of the album, is one of heartache but also remorse, revisiting youth, reconciling loss, reckoning with one’s past, asking for forgiveness (from a lover, from one’s self) but also interestingly, given her age (she is only 27 after all) a sense of running out of time, a sense of getting older, of no longer being a kid, or even, of being “mad” for getting old!

People commented how they feel almost cheated by the melancholic mood that permeates the album. It is as if they are asking “she is happy now, why does she still sing about heartache?” As if her being a confessional artist precludes her from writing about loss, when she is not personally wallowing in self-pity at the time. (And she did warn us: “Just ’cause I said it, it don’t mean that I meant it”) They forget that being an artist is about introspection, about being able to relive the past, and also having the tools to retrieve information from it. It is also about being able to identify with other people’s human experience: crime writers are not actually criminals, any more than comedians are immune to depressive thoughts (far from it in fact). As inspirations go, happiness is a pretty boring one after all… As for being too young to feel so old, this is more of a symbolic “aging” to which she refers, I feel: let us not forget she was concerned with the passing of time even in “21” when she was just that: 21… Artists anyway have a different understanding of time. They feel and live with the kind of intensity that “ages” you, that marks you…

Is “25” better than “21”? Not really, but only because “21” was such a phenomenon, each song feeling like a kick in the stomach. Any new work she creates, now or in 15 years time, no matter how great, is fated to always be compared with one of the best albums ever produced. By anyone! She is well aware of the fact as she said in an interview, but luckily, she did not let that stop her from creating new work. Even when she is treading on much too familiar ground in this record, or when her words occasionally run the risk of being a bit on the corny side (like on “Remedy” for example), she is saved by her beautiful vocals. Her voice a silken soulful whisper on the lower notes, roaring the lyrics on the higher tones, effortlessly streching vowels and amplifying emotions, making this an exeptional piece of work.

The bitterness is gone in “25”, and along with it, the edge perhaps, (that’s the thing about happiness: it steals your edge, waters down your fear and then as a result, your Art), but in many ways, this is the voice of a woman, the turmoil, of a woman (not of a girl just barely an adult, facing her first major heartbreak), matured by the fact that she dared to face the inner mirror, instead of breaking it in anger.

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Written in November 2015.

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Read also: Adele as an Alternative Pop Idol” : http://wp.me/p7jQTY-1

    

    

An Alternative Pop idol – Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications.

http://www.fanitsa-petrou.com



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“Refugees not Welcome?”

 “Οι εποχές που ζούμε “μυρίζουν” Ευρώπη του ’30, τότε που η οικονομική κρίση στη Γερμανία γινόταν η αφορμή και η δικαιολογία για να ξυπνήσει το θηρίο στις ψυχές όσων ήταν θύμα της, κάνοντας τους θύτες”

refugees layer2

“Refugees not Welcome?”

 της Φανίτσας Πέτρου

Είναι λοιπόν κάποιες ειδήσεις που όσο κι αν πάλιωσαν, δε μας αφήνουν να ησυχάσουμε. Κι η εικόνα της Ουγγαρέζας κάμερα γούμαν που έβαλε τρικλοποδιά στον Σύριο πατέρα με το παιδί στην αγκαλιά του, είναι σίγουρα μια από αυτές. Τι σκηνή και εκείνη!! Τώρα του κινεί λέει μήνυση, όπως και στο Facebook, γιατί δυσφημίστηκε το όνομα της από την προβολή του βίντεο που την έδειχνε να το κάνει! (Ποιος να τόλεγε πως θα μπορούσε να νιώσουμε ακόμα πιο θυμωμένοι μαζί της…) Κι η εικόνα των αστυνομικών να κτυπούν τους πρόσφυγες ή να τους πετούν σα σε σκυλιά τα σάντουιτς στο αέρα. Ή η εικόνα του τρίχρονου αγοριού,  που ξεβράστηκε στα παράλια της Τουρκίας, μπρούμυτα στη άμμο σαν πεθαμένο πουλάκι, που θα στοιχειώνει τους εφιάλτες μας για χρόνια. Μα γέμισε από τότε η θάλασσα με πτώματα. Το πρώτο σοκ από την εικόνα του μικρούλη πέρασε… Τα μάτια μας συνήθησαν να βλέπουν ναυάγια και άψυχα κορμιά και δάκρυα στα μάτια όσων ζήσαν. Αν και δεν είναι για όλους τούτες οι σκηνές πηγή πόνου. Είναι και κείνοι που τις βλέπουν σαν απειλή στα κεκτημένα τους: στις δύσκολες τις ώρες ζωντανεύει πάντα η σκοτεινή πλευρά μας. Μας συντροφεύει έτσι κι αλλιώς μόνιμα. Περπατά στα βήματα μας παραμονεύοντας, και μόλις ο φόβος – πονηρά σπαρμένος μέσα μας από πολιτικούς και θρησκείες – βγάλει μύτη, τότε μας ζώνει από παντού. Μας κάνει άκαρδους, θυμωμένους, ανίκανους να νιώσουμε συμπόνια.

Κι εδώ, δεν είναι και λίγοι όσοι μιλούν με θυμό ενάντια στους πολιτικούς πρόσφυγες. Tο ειρωνικό είναι πως βρεθήκαμε ήδη στη θέση τους, το 40% από μας τουλάχιστον. Θα έπρεπε αυτό από μόνο του να μας ξυπνήσει και τις μνήμες και τη συμπόνια. Μα ποιος τις θυμάται πια τις μέρες του καλοκαιριού του ’74, με τις κονσέρβες του Ερυθρού Σταυρού και τις στρατιωτικές κουβέρτες που μύριζαν εντομοκτόνα, μα και ελπίδα. Την ελπίδα πως δεν είσαι μόνος στο κακό που σε βρήκε. Πως κάποιος υπάρχει εκεί έξω που σου απλώνει το χέρι. Όταν η ζωή σε κλοτσά και συ δε μπορείς παρά να γονατίσεις, είναι μόνο η καλοσύνη  των άλλων που σε τραβά να σηκωθείς. Η ανώνυμη καλοσύνη των συσσιτίων και των δεμάτων με τα καθαρά εσώρουχα, μα πάνω απ’ όλα, η καλοσύνη στα μάτια κάποιου που θα σε δει σαν ανθρώπινο πλάσμα, κι ας είσαι γονατιστός. Κι ας είσαι το ελάχιστο που θα μπορούσες ποτέ να είσαι.

Τι αξία έχουν αλήθεια οι Κυριακάτικοι εκκλησιασμοί, η αποζήτηση καθοδήγησης – μέχρι και η εξάρτηση – από Πνευματικούς και γκουρού αυτοβελτίωσης, τα σεμινάρια περί πνευματικότητας, τα ταξίδια στο Άγιο Όρος, οι νηστείες, τα meditations, κι όλες οι Self Help θεωρίες του πλανήτη, κι όλα όσα κάνουμε για να νιώσουμε πως είμαστε λέει “πνευματικοί άνθρωποι”, αν η ψυχή μας δε λυγίζει μπροστά στο πεθαμένο παιδάκι που ξεβράστηκε σαν να ήταν ένα πράγμα, ένα σκουπίδι, στη άμμο. Αν η ψυχή μας δε γεμίζει θυμό μπροστά στη τρικλοποδιά της κάμεραν γούμαν, κι αν δεν φοβόμαστε για το μέλλον του τόπου μας μπροστά στις εικόνες με τους νεαρούς συμπατριώτες μας φιλάθλους και τις “Refugees not Welcome” επιγραφές τους. Στον τόπο μας που οι μισοί σχεδόν, είμαστε ακριβώς αυτό… Τι ξέρουν οι Δυτικοί από προσφυγιά; Για τους περισσότερους από δαύτους, είναι κακό θεωρητικό, απομακρυσμένο. Μα όχι για μας. Τι κι αν δε το ζήσαν τα παλικάρια στη φωτογραφία με το πανό “Refugees not Welcome”, τις νεκροκεφαλές στα T-shirt τους και τα υψωμένα χέρια σε προσβλητικές χειρονομίες; Θα έπρεπε να το ξέραν, κι ας μη το ζήσαν. Μα αν συγχωρούνται για το νεαρό της ηλικίας τους, τι να πει κανένας για τους μεγαλύτερους που βροντοφωνάζουν στα κανάλια την γεμάτη χολή αγανάκτηση τους για την όποια ανθρωπιστική βοήθεια δίνεται σε πολιτικούς πρόσφυγες ή σε δικαιούχους επιδομάτων; Τι να πει κανένας και για τα γκρουπ που δημιουργήθηκαν στο facebook από συμπατριώτες μας, με μόνο σκοπό να ειρωνεύονται τον ανθρώπινο πόνο και να βρίζουν τους πολιτικούς πρόσφυγες;

Οι εποχές που ζούμε “μυρίζουν” Ευρώπη του ’30, τότε που η οικονομική κρίση στη Γερμανία γινόταν η αφορμή και η δικαιολογία για να ξυπνήσει το θηρίο στις ψυχές όσων ήταν θύμα της, κάνοντας τους θύτες. Μα έχει κι η ανοχή τον κίνδυνο της, γιατί δίνει δύναμη σε όσους ήδη νικήθηκαν από τον φόβο τους. Όταν στις 9 του Νιόβρη του 1938, Γερμανοί και Αυστριακοί πολίτες, έσπαζαν μαζικά τα γυαλιά από τα παράθυρα και τις βιτρίνες Εβραϊκών σπιτιών και καταστημάτων, εκείνη τη νύχτα που έμεινε στη ιστορία σαν Kristallnacht (“Νύχτα των Κρυστάλλων”) και που σηματοδοτήθηκε σαν η αρχή του απόλυτου κακού, όσοι δεν σήκωσαν πέτρες να κτυπήσουν βιτρίνες ή κεφάλια Εβραίων, μα παρακολουθούσαν ατάραχοι το φαινόμενο, δε θα περνούσε πολύς καιρός προτού να γίνουν και εκείνοι θύτες. Ο φόβος πως κινδυνεύει η εθνική και οικονομική ανεξαρτησία τους, αλλά και η αρρωστημένη πεποίθηση πως ήταν λέει “ανώτεροι”, που καλλιεργήθηκαν με επιμέλεια στη ψυχή τους από τη πολιτική του Χίτλερ, θα τους μετέτρεπε σύντομα σε φονιάδες, βασανιστές, γενοκτόνους. Το θηρίο ξυπνά πρώτα πρώτα από το φόβο μας, μα τρέφεται και από την ανοχή μας, προτού μας καταβροχθίσει την ανθρωπιά. Ας τον νικήσουμε λοιπόν το φόβο μέσα μας. Και όσο αφορά την οικονομική κρίση στο τόπο μας, ας στρέψουμε την οργή μας σε εκείνους που την αξίζουν.

Τι λαός και μεις! Αδιάβαστος. Μετεξεταστέος. Ανίκανος να μάθει από τα λάθη του, να δει τον εαυτό του στο καθρέπτη. Πως και είναι τόσο εύκολο να κλαίμε με τα προβλέψιμα, καρμπόν δράματα των τηλεοπτικών σειρών, να ανταλλάσσουμε γλυκερά ρητά στο Facebook για την Αγάπη και την Ζωή, μα σαν αντικρίσουμε τον πόνο κάποιων που δε μας μοιάζουν, που δεν ανήκουν στο μικρόκοσμο της κλειστής κοινωνίας μας, της οικογένειας μας, να κλείνουμε τις πόρτες μας, να γίνεται η καρδιά μας πέτρα και τα λόγια μας μαχαίρια; Τα χαστούκια που φάγαμε σα λαός να μη μας μάθανε ακόμα πως το μόνο σίγουρο στη ζωή, είναι πως αργά η γρήγορα θα ανατραπεί! Κι αν είναι σήμερα η σειρά κάποιου άλλου, πολύ πιθανόν αύριο να είναι ξανά η δική μας. Η ιστορία μας το απόδειξε άλλωστε πόσο δυνατή είναι αυτή η πιθανότητα. Γι αυτό ας μη κρίνουμε τα πάντα μέσα από το πρίσμα του δικού μας μικρόκοσμου, του δικού μας προσωπικού και οικογενειακού συμφέροντος, του δικού μας παρόντος. Αν τα παιδιά του τόπου μας κοιμούνται σήμερα ήσυχα στο κρεβατάκι τους, με τους χνουδωτούς αρκούδους στη αγκαλιά τους, χορτάτα, ζεστά, προστατευμένα, με ανθρώπους να τα νοιάζονται δίπλα τους, και την πιθανότητα ενός καλού μέλλοντος, ας σκεφτούμε τα παιδιά που κοιμούνται στο χώμα, νηστικά, με το φόβο στη καρδιά τους και τα δάκρυα στα μάτια τους. Στα μάτια τους που είδαν ήδη τόσο θάνατο, τόσο πόλεμο, τόση φρίκη, που ο ύπνος τους θα είναι για πάντα ταραγμένος.

Γιατί κρίνουμε τους κατατρεγμένους της γης τόσο αυστηρά; Ποιος Κύπριος, ποιος Έλληνας γονιός στη θέση των προσφύγων της Συρίας, δε θάκανε το ίδιο: δε θα γύρευε σωτηρία σε ξένες χώρες, αν η ζωή της οικογένειας του απειλείτο; Δε θα γύρευε νέα γη μακρυά από το θάνατο, τον πόλεμο, τη βία; Γιατί μας φαίνεται τόσο δύσκολο να το καταλάβουμε, να ταυτιστούμε μαζί του; Ποιος γονιός δε θα απαιτούσε να δοθεί στο παιδί του η ελπίδα μας καλύτερης ζωής, αν αυτή του είχε στερηθεί; Και μήπως δε το κάναμε ήδη σα λαός; Μήπως δεν κινήσαμε και μεις σε ξένα μέρη – σε Αμερικές κι Αγγλίες κι Αυστραλίες – όταν τα βρήκαμε δύσκολα εδώ; Αν λοιπόν εμείς το δικαιούμαστε, γιατί όχι ο άλλος;

Άμμος είναι η ζωή που φεύγει μέσα από τα δάκτυλα σου όσο κι αν εσύ τα σφίγγεις. Κάθε φορά που νομίζουμε πως τη κρατούμε, εκείνη μας γελά. Όσα λοιπόν μας φαίνονται τώρα σίγουρα, αλύγιστα, δικά μας, μπορεί να μην είναι αύριο. Ποιος ξέρει λοιπόν ποιανού η σειρά θα έρθει αύριο, να γυρεύει σωτηρίες σε φορτωμένα πλοία και εχθρικές χώρες και αστυνομίες με σηκωμένα πάνω από το κεφάλι του κλομπ; Ποιος ξέρει αν δεν αναγκαστούμε ποτέ να σταθούμε σε ουρές για ένα μπαγιάτικο σάντουιτς που θα μας πετάξουν λες κι είμαστε σκυλιά; Ποιος ξέρει αν δε πέσουμε κι εμείς κάτω από την τρικλοποδιά που θα μας βάλει κάποτε η ζωή, κι όλοι οι άκαρδοι της γης που θα μας νομίσουμε ένα τίποτε, απλά γιατί δεν έχουμε τίποτε; Νομίζουμε αλήθεια πως ο τρόπος ζωής μας είναι σίγουρος, ακλόνητος, με ανοσία στις αλλαγές; Πως το κουτί του κόσμου μας είναι καμωμένο από σίδερο, ατσάλι, πέτρα, και πως θα μας κρατά για πάντα μακρυά από τις τραγικές ανατροπές; Μα είναι υποθέτω ανθρώπινη φύση να το νομίζουμε. Μήπως οι Εβραίοι μεγαλοαστοί με τις κρυμμένες ράβδους χρυσού στα υπόγεια τους, πίστευαν ποτέ πως θα βρίσκονταν να περιφέρονται γυμνοί και σκελετωμένοι στα Στρατόπεδα Συγκέντρωσης, να υποβάλλονται σε κάθε λογής εξευτελισμούς προτού δολοφονηθούν μαζικά; Μήπως οι παππούδες μας το περίμεναν ποτέ να φύγουν από το χωριό τους και να απλώσουν τα χέρια σα ζητιάνοι να πάρουν τις κονσέρβες του Ερυθρού Σταυρού, καθισμένοι κατάχαμα σε τσαντίρια στο δασάκι της Άχνας, εκείνες τις πρώτες μέρες της προσφυγιάς τους; Μήπως όλοι εκείνοι οι Ευρωπαίοι που φορτώθηκαν σα σακιά σε πλοία που θα κατέληγαν στα παράλια της Βόρειας Αφρικής (σε Αραβικές δηλαδή χώρες!!! Αυτό κι αν είναι ειρωνεία!) για να γλιτώσουν το ’40 από τους Γερμανούς, το φαντάζονταν πως η ζωή θα τους έφερνε ποτέ σε εκείνη τη θέση; Ας σεβαστούμε λοιπόν όσους τη ζουν τώρα την τραγική ανατροπή. Μόνο και μόνο γιατί αυτή τουλάχιστον τη φορά, εμείς τη γλιτώσαμε. Εμείς κοιμόμαστε στα κρεβάτια μας. Εμείς είμαστε στη θέση να μπορούμε να δείξουμε συμπόνια.

Μα ο φόβος μας τυφλώνει. Μας κάνει ανίκανους να δούμε ποιος φταίει αληθινά για τη κατρακύλα της οικονομίας και της κοινωνίας μας, και είναι ευκολότερο να ρίξουμε το φταίξιμο στους αλλοδαπούς εργάτες παρά στους πολιτικούς που ψηφίσαμε, πιστέψαμε, εμπιστευτήκαμε. Πανίσχυρο, δοκιμασμένο όπλο στα χέρια των πολιτικών ο φόβος. Καλλιεργείται και σήμερα στις ψυχές των λαών και δίνει δύναμη σε ακροδεξιά και Νεοναζιστικά κινήματα που μιλούν ανοικτά και απενοχοποιημένα πια εναντίον των ξένων, των δικαιούχων επιδομάτων, των δυσπραγούντων, των μεταναστών, των πολιτικών προσφύγων, των δυστυχισμένων της γης. Ξαναγίνεται ξαφνικά “ένταξη” το να είναι κανείς ρατσιστής, ξενόφοβος, εθνικιστής, άκαρδος. Μα ας το ξανασκεφτούμε προτού παρασυρθούμε από το φόβο πως θα χάσουμε τις δουλειές μας ή τα κεκτημένα μας. Μόνο κακά γεννιούνται από ένα τέτοιο φόβο. Μα και από την ανοχή μας.

Ας σκεφτούμε για μια στιγμή, τι είναι εκείνο που έκαμε γονείς να φορτώνουν τα παιδιά τους σε βάρκες, σε φορτηγά, σε τραίνα; Τι είναι εκείνος ο φόβος που είναι μεγαλύτερος από τους κινδύνους που θα ζήσουν στο δρόμο;

Όπως γράφει η Σομαλή ποιήτρια Warsan Shire – που ξέρει από πρώτο χέρι τι θα πει προσφυγιά:

Kανένας δεν φεύγει από το σπίτι του

αν δεν γίνει το σπίτι του το στόμα ενός καρχαρία.

κανένας δε τρέχει για τα σύνορα αν δεν δει όλη την πόλη να τρέχει.

κανένας δε βάζει τα παιδιά του σε μια βάρκα

αν δεν είναι το νερό του ωκεανού ασφελέστερο από το σπίτι του…

 …κανένας δε διαλέγει τα καταφύγια προσφύγων

τις σωματικές έρευνες στο πληγωμένο του σώμα

αν δεν είναι η φυλακή ασφαλέστερο μέρος από την πόλη που καίγεται

κι o ένας φύλακας που έρχεται για σένα μέσα στη νύχτα, προτιμότερος από ένα φορτηγό γεμάτο από άντρες που μοιάζουν με το πατέρα σου

 θέλω να πάω στο σπίτι μου, 

μα το σπίτι μου είναι το στόμα ενός καρχαρία,

είναι η κάνη ενός όπλου

 κανένας δε θα έφευγε από το σπίτι του

αν το σπίτι του δεν τον κυνηγούσε ως την ακτή…”

************************************************************************************ Refugees not Welcome – Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications.

************************************************************************************

(Κείμενο γραμμένο τον Οκτώβρη του 2015)

Διαβάστε επίσης: http://wp.me/p7jQTY-47


 

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A Belated Shock – “GO SET A WATCHMAN” – A Review.

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Isn’t that always the way? Give them enough time, and even fictional heroes will betray you in the end…  *   A Belated Shock A BOOK REVIEW – By Fanitsa Petrou The publication of Harper Lee’s new novel “Go Set A Watchman” … Continue reading

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ADELE as an Alternative Pop Idol

And we need to be in the right mood,

because she is likely to take us where we dread to go.

And when her albums first come out, we need

to listen to her new songs while being

on our own, because her stuff is lethal.

We may start crying out loud,

bellowing like “crumbling fools”.

adele scan fin

Adele as an Alternative Pop Idol  

– by Fanitsa Petrou

Adele is inarguably, the finest vocalist of her generation. In all the many talent shows – the Voices, the X-factors, the American Idols – for example, her songs are often reserved for the final shows that determine the winners. It is perhaps a testimony to her vocal – as well as song writing – abilities: female singers are measured up against her, like they used to be measured up against Whitney Houston or Aretha Franklin. Her songs making or braking careers, depending on how the contestants do by comparison. (Very often, very poorly …) And this is reflected in her sales: “25” her latest album which was released on the 20th of November 2015, became the year’s top selling album in the U.S. in just one week, while by the 1st of December, it sold 8.2 million copies, which stands for the 42% of all album sales in the United States. For the entire year! She is the holder of 10 Grammys, six Brit awards, a Golden Globe and even an Oscar! But she is a special kind of artist for another reason as well.

There is this a video on YouTube, with Adele singing her new song “When We Were Young” which featured on the Australian “60 Minutes” show, a song about meeting again with a guy from her past, and as soon as she is done, you can see her struggling to fight back tears, and for those few seconds it lasts, you can also see her humanity right there in front of you, and you just want to hug her. (If you don’t also find yourself fighting tears by then, I suggest you call your doctor, because there may be something seriously wrong with your heart). And then a moment later, in a typical Adel-ian twist, she makes a silly joke and she is out of it. Similarly, when she did an emotional rendition of “Hello” (the first single from the album) on SNL this weekend, she stuck her tongue out as soon as she finished, like a kid in a school play. Or like a girl who after selling millions of records is still not used to all this attention.

This vulnerability, this humility, this openness, as well as this self-effacing, child-like “silliness” are so endearing, and so extremely rare in the world of pop music! Before Adele, there was no place in the pop industry for her brand of authenticity. Not at the top at least. I’m sure there are countless girls singing in cafes and pubs and train stations, who still have their heart unaffected by adulation, but NOT in the charts. Not while being international stars, selling millions of albums, breaking all kinds of records while doing it. And that is why she is special. That is why her songs with the honest simplicity of their words have such an affect of people. Because even when we don’t realise it, we are drawn to that truth of hers, to that unaffected by fame quality.

All the pop stars currently in the charts, with the elaborate dance moves and the sophisticated fashion sense, and the gurus, the stylists, the implants, and their perpetually exposed, hard rock abdomens, and their identical, manufactured sexiness, and well-coached replies, and famous body parts, and – one assumes – their macrobiotic diets, have never taken us to that place where we are overwhelmed with emotions. All the princesses of Pop of the last 20 years, from Madonna, Kylie Minogue, Britney Spears, Mariah Carey, Christina Aguilera, Gwen Stefani, Beyoncé and Lady Gaga, all the way to Rihanna, Katy Perry, Jessy J, Taylor Swift, Ariana Grande, or Miley Cirus, may be great technical singers (at least many of them are), able to do all kinds of vocal gymnastics and set the fashion trends, and have great dancing-in-stilettos abilities, but their over rehearsed shenanigans are a product, a brand they were taught how to sell. And they do know how to sell, sell, sell. They are pigeon-holed into a role that is cold and heartless, because it is exactly that: a role. You feel it in your guts when you watch them in interviews that many of them have lost their way, infatuated by legions of adoring fans and the words of greedy managers, shifty publicists and sycophantic employees who never say “no” to them. They have been seduced, and possibly corrupted by flattery and lies. That is why we may love their music, but we are not deeply, devastatingly, heart-wrenchingly moved by it. Not often anyway. They’ve lost that ability to cause such intense emotional reactions in a wide range of people, when they’ve became a product, when they’ve became hit machines, which means when they’ve stopped being truly vulnerable instead of pretending to be, or when they’ve stopped being “allowed” to be less than perfect, or God forbid a little bit different.

That is why we cannot easily identify with them. The way they perceive the world is alien to us. It is unreachable and incomparable with what we are going through in our daily lives, even if they probably go through some similar stuff as we do, (the universal ups and downs of love and loss and break ups, which have for ever been the source material of song writers, and the staff everyone’s pain is made of), we can’t quite identify with them, connect with them or often believe they are not acting. Mimicking instead of feeling, or just being too weird for words… Like Lady Gaga visiting the Greek islands, being carried around in the little shops, in the hands of her bodyguard like a two-year old, because she is rendered unable to walk on her own two feet, on account of her gigantic heels. Sia being led on and off the stage like a blind person, because of the wig that is permanently hiding her face from her audience, or sipping her drink through a straw from behind her wig, when she was a quest at the Graham Norton Show (not that we all don’t have days when we want to be covered by a blanket mind you). Madonna all serious, singing songs “about peace” in France, at the Place de la République, the spot that has become a shrine to the victims of the terrorist attacks of the 13th of November (or was it just me who thought she was out of place?). Mariah Carey being all weird, talking gibberish about the “powers that be” all the time, during her time as a judge on the American Idol, and waving around a pink, plastic, fairy wand, the kind favored by little seven year old girls, leaving us wondering “why??” Ariana Grande “making out” with donuts while declaring she hates America in a donut shop, actually causing it to have its health code rating downgraded, after she was caught on security camera licking the pastries on the counter… Jessy J, as a judge at the Australian Voice, having the biggest superiority complex ever seen on TV (or anywhere), to the point of actually making her fellow judge, Australian Pop singer Delta Goodrem bursting into tears and leaving the set. Taylor Swift being “obsessed” with her “Squad”, the group of young, beautiful, successful and famous women (actresses, models etc) who are supposedly her friends, and who create a sort of group of “superior” beings, that is a so-called feministic thing (female friendships and all that) but in reality, is creepily reminiscent of high school gangs of heartless, cheer-leader-type of girls, who are spending their days exchanging grooming tips and bullying the plain girls in their class… Gwen Stefani singing “Used to love you”, a song presumably written about her ex husband, overacting, mimicking grief (badly), posing for the camera, obviously being more concerned about how she looks, instead of showing any real emotion. And the same goes for the country singer Miranda Lambert in the music video for ‘Mama’s Broken Heart’, ironically, a song about women being trapped in that old prison of appearances, and the desire to escape it. She obviously and sadly, couldn’t: instead of expressing the raw feelings, the outrage, the urgency to be freed from the need to please others by always, and at all costs, being compliant and “lady-like” and well-groomed, even when one’s heart is bleeding, which is what the song is all about, she did the opposite of that, posing sedactively for the camera, turning one of the bravest and most heart-wrecthing songs about the realities faced by all women, into just another vehicle for a singer to look good in yet another black lacy nighty… Or, Miley Cirus in that creepy, maddening, twerking rendition of ‘Blurred Lines’ with Robin Thicke at the 2013 VMAs, or slapping a black woman’s behind and using black women as teddy bear props at the 2014 VMAs (!), or causing outrage for using racist words, such as “Mammy” – a derogative term that justifies slavery – at the 2015 VMAs… (Good luck to all the mums explaining all that to their girls who grew up with the Hannah Montana  TV show…) I mean you just want to shout to them “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?!”

But in the case of Adele, identification comes easy. Not because she is the girl next door type, or because she is not unique enough, pretty enough, charismatic enough, but because she is unguarded, unspoiled by fame and money. Her great gift is not just her beautiful voice and her song writing abilities – both rare and exceptional – but that quality of being well… normal! And of being connected and of drawing us in, that many of the “mechanical” pop stars lack. That quality of allowing us to enter into her world. Allowing us to connect with her on a human level and see her wounds and shuttered pride and betrayals and pain and tears and smallness even. That unapologetic vulnerability, that lack of pretensions which takes guts. And that is no small thing in this heartless, cynical world of ours. In this world of manufactured idols, and facebook pretensions, and phoney social media friendships, and Internet porn addictions, and dick / tit selfies masquerading as romantic gestures, and youtube celebrities, and sex tape relationships, and “thigh gap” beauties, being true to one’s self, is kind of a big deal.

We may dance to the music of those other pop divas, we may listen to it  while we are doing the dishes, or taking the dog for a walk, but we need to make “space” for Adele’s music to listen to it properly. And we need to be in the right mood, because she is likely to take us where we dread to go. And when her albums first come out, we need to listen to her new songs while being on our own, because her stuff is lethal. We may start crying out loud, bellowing like “crumbling fools”. Other artists have sung about heartbreak and break ups, this is not her discovery, I agree. But what is kind of unique, is her truth. It’s that thing that’s right there for all to see, that exposed pain, that vulnerability, that humanity which are a rare sight. It used to be occasionally met in some folk and country singers, but rarely, and certainly not lately, and most definitely not in the A-listers. And it takes bravery and emotional depth to articulate your fears, to amplifying your heartache, to come face to face with your bitterness, to express vulnerability so openly, so publicly, but what most people don’t realize, is that it also takes a tremendous amount of confidence, grace and inner strength in order to know that you won’t crumple underneath the ruins of such confessions…

It is interesting that occasionally her interviewers treat her with a hint of condescension when faced with her down-to-earthiness, her self-effacing jokes, her sudden bursts of laughter, her cockney accent, her spontaneous swearing, in the same way that all unimaginative people treat anyone who is different than what they are used to seeing (Anderson Cooper in the Overtime commentary, that followed the “60 minutes” interview, back in 2012, is a good example of that, making fun of her hair, her home, being ironic about her working class background, etc) That’s because they are not used to her brand of honesty and mistake lack of pretensions as lack of class or intelligence. They don’t quite understand that it is often the deeply complicated and charismatic people who have no need for pretensions, like they also don’t understand the kind of intelligence it takes for a girl this young, to write such songs, and also the bravery it takes to be herself in a world full of identical idols. To go out there armed not with a set of killer abs and a carefully contrived sexiness, but with the power of her talent, and the warmth of her heart. Not to mention with her individual brand of beauty that she felt no need to “adjust” to what is generally seen as the “norm”. She doesn’t have the rehearsed manners, or the polished image of a pop diva, for the same reason she doesn’t have pyrotechnics and laser shows and explosions and half naked dancers in her concerts. Because she doesn’t need them… She is however repeatedly being asked about her weight as if it is astounding that a girl who is not borderline anorexic can possibly be successful, let alone THIS successful, a fact that she very rightly so, finds to be offensive. “It’s a little bit annoying that men don’t get asked that question” she said recently.

Anderson Cooper on the Overtime of “60 minutes”, for example kept asking her (almost attempting to fat-shame her, even after she pretty much put him in his place) whether or not she looks at other pop stars “like Rihanna and Beyonce”, or “people in magazines” and wishes  she looked like them (the implication being obviously: as opposed to how hideous she does look…) “I don’t really need to. I AM selling records!” she cheekily and emphatically pointed out to him. Besides she doesn’t want people “confusing what it is she’s about”, she said at another time, referring to her looks and her desire to not be another skinny girl in sexy outfits. That’s kind of unique. A young woman, let alone a celebrity, who loves the way she looks, who feels that “exploiting yourself sexually is not a good look” , and doesn’t feel the need to succumb to the pressure of looking exactly like everyone else, who is not agonizing, apologizing, or feeling worthless, because she is not in her words a “skinny mini”! This in itself, is kind of a big deal! And for this alone, you gotta love her.

This girl who wears her heart on her sleeve, who takes her shoes off in the middle of a song because they hurt, who talks to her audience about her love life as if she is chatting with a friend; who drunk-tweets and then regrets it; who keeps a drunk journal the entries of which she turns into beautiful love songs; who before the encore announces to her fans at the Royal Albert Hall that she will just pop out for a minute, take her shoes off and have a sip of water, before returning back to them; this girl who makes public, embarrassing confessions of her love for her ex, who makes faces and silly jokes to diffuse the tension, is a real girl in the truest sense of the word. In a manner we’ve stop expecting people in the limelight to be, especially women, (Jennifer Lawrence runs a close second, with her habitual falling down routines and her constant, as well as refreshingly adorable foot-in-her-mouth faux pas) This girl, who worked at her local record shop, sorting Cds at the back , after her first album, (after the Grammys and all the success and the money and the adulation), so that she wouldn’t “lose contact” with what’s out there; this girl who in her words would rather go out for lunch with her friends rather than go to the gym; who when she had the world under her feet, took a four year hiatus in order to live her life like a normal person; who would rather sing in smaller venues rather than big arenas, because she is not “a massive fan of touring”; who refuses to endorse products because she doesn’t want “to get addicted to making money for doing shitty things”, who dresses in 60’s inspired somber gowns; who swears and cackles in the middle of interviews and concerts; who is sensitive but can be tough when it counts, and refuses to allow “men in suits” sitting in boardrooms, making decisions about her own work; who talking about herself and how people seem to love her so much, she says she has no idea “what the fuss is about”; who is not ashamed of her emotions and cries at the end of each song; this girl who is funny, cheeky and sarcastic but writes heart wrenching break up songs, is a rare fruit in the music industry. And this quality, this realness, this integrity, is what makes us feel a connection to her. It is not just her great voice with the range of God knows how many octaves, or even the honesty of her lyrics, it is above all the conviction with which she performs them, that makes every song feel like a punch in the gut.

And I’m thinking that mums who have girls, should see Adele as a role model for their daughters (and themselves), instead of aspiring them to live their lives trying to emulate a kind of Taylor Swift-like, icy, (and lets face it obviously uptight “perfection”), or a Miley Cirus-like, in-your-face, creepy “sexiness”. They should encourage them to find their bliss, to live with integrity, to love who they are, and to stop living their lives seeking a kind of “perfection” that is limiting, cold, and measurable only by one’s ability to wear XS skinny jeans.

And also, to take a page out of Adele’s book who sings: “I want to live, and not just survive”!

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Written in November 2015.

Read also: “Adele – She had us at “Hello”: http://wp.me/p7jQTY-3S

An Alternative Pop idol – Art & Words Copyright © Fanitsa Petrou. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use – copying, publishing, printing, reselling, etc – will lead to legal implications.

http://www.fanitsa-petrou.com

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