Today has mostly been an reminder of why I don’t like men. What a surprise! Usually I get at least one reminder a day of why I don’t like them, but for the last few days I’ve been surprisingly bastard free.
Not yesterday or today though. Firstly, yesterday night I had the delighful experience of sitting with my brother whilst he was trying to decide what to watch on TV. I don’t watch TV for the exact reason that it is full of violent, disgusting, offensive, repulsive patriachal crap. I have a Freeview box which remains firmly fixed on CBeebies, except when I am out and my dad is watching TV.
The first thing he wanted to watch was a film containing a young beautiful blonde Christina Ricci being viciously beaten by a man. She had black eyes, was bruised all over, and was wearing a tube top in the scene I had the misfortune to watch. I objected. I was on shaky ground here, this not being my house and all. But probably to make sure I didn’t get in one of my ‘moods’, he turned it over. What was the next thing he chose? Booze Britain. Now this show literally does make me want to barf. It is literally cameras following around young inebriated people as they go about filling their bodies with alcohol to dangerous limits and making themselves vomit. It often shows a lot of the fights and legal transgressions which are a direct result of said inebriated state. I can only hope that the show was originally created to highlight the problems with binge drinking and encourage people to stop. What is more realistic is that TV big wigs thought it would be cool and fun to stick some young drunk people on TV making themselves look like utter wankers. Is there some kind of special pride that men feel at watching themselves piss in the street and vomit on police officers? And what makes me even more mad is watching the women trying to copy the men. Never in my radical feminist circle of friends have ever felt the need to get so drunk I piss on the pavement, shit my pants or vomit in a kebab shop. It worries me that there are some women out there who feel they need to get acceptance by emulating some of the most repulsive and contemptible behaviours of the faulty gender.
Result: me pissed off at the media and one of the few men in my life who I don’t often end up wanting to scream ARSEHOLE at very loudly.
It reminded me of something that I find myself having to remind myself a lot: whether they’re your friends, your lovers, your family, men will always be men. There won’t often be exceptions. Generally, they will always find something despicable and just plain WRONG to do, which will remind me of why I’m a dirty man hating feminist to begin with.
I must adjourn now as my library computer time is drawing to a close. Expect more rantings tomorrow, I have a lot on my mind.