Proposition: Hate

So, it's been a while since I've blogged. What have I been doing?

Well, to be honest, I've been having an awful lot of fun. I feel almost guilty saying that without context, but considering one part of that fun was drunken ramblings about veganism, Palestine, capitalism, viral marketing, government surveillance and the idiocy of the British political system on the 341 last night, it is all fun with a conscience. A lot of things that fall into my bracket of fun usually involve a healthy dose of benefit shows and a strong DIY ethic for some epically great causes. And possibly attempting to climb out of windows. Which is less of a conscientious thing and more of a making mischief thing, but I digress.

Apart from having fun I've been dabbling in actions again, reading more, trying to absorb information about everything. After a year of feeling pressurised to suppress all my views in fear of offending those who had provided a roof over my head, it is, in a sense, like being a child again.

So really recently there's been a lot of things that I really needed to blog about on an outlet where I don't seem to make talking absolute shite some form of life skill. (Well, you could argue this blog is shite but at least it's vaguely well-constructed.)

Basically, a lot of things lately have been making me exceedingly impassioned and, indeed, very very angry. I have found myself constantly emerging from a self normally positive to expressing a passionate indignation towards the absolute blind idiocy that still pervades throughout the world.

Some things, let's be honest, utterly baffle me. They really really do. Of all of these things, there is one thing that not only baffles me, it ENRAGES me. It makes me wonder how on earth humans have the audacity to claim en masse intelligent thought. What is this thing?

Homophobia. (And biphobia; but we'll come to that in a bit.)

It is only recently that I've been able to be fully open about my sexuality. I am, to put it bluntly, a bit gay. I'm not technically gay, I'm of that group of people labelled with the horrendous term "bisexual" which I despise with a passion. Even today we were talking at work about the strangeness of the manner in which the film Slumdog Millionaire was marketed. Now, I'm going to talk about that later but for now, I'll just skip to the part where I said to a colleague "you know what's sad? I have a crush on both of them." 'Them' being of course Dev Patel and Freida Pinto.

This would have been fine (and I wasn't joking) had a customer next to me not pulled a face of disgust and anger that I might possibly be attracted to 2 people of 2 different genders. What made me angry is that I could guess that she was probably going to bring up the two young kids with her with the idea that homosexuality- in whatever sense- is wrong.

So my hatred towards homophobia is quite personal. It affects me. It affects some wonderful people I know. When the words dyke, gay and homo are still used as insults, there is a lot of work to be done in terms of reaching a level of equality and acceptance for those in the LGBT community. (And indeed stop it feeling like they have to be banded in a community in order to get any support or understanding.)

Especially when one of the most liberal states in America have voted in one of the most disgusting, vile, backwards propositions ever. I am ashamed and disgusted that somewhere like California can vote in Prop 8.

For those of you blissfully unaware of this evidence of steep devolution of the human species, Prop 8 basically bans same-sex marriages. After all the hard work, everything that was fought for has effectively been lost. Those already married can remain so. But for those whose relationships were simply timed badly, only regression.

I'm not even that much of a fan of marriage personally. I never want to get married. I never want my love for someone to be measured by a certificate, or a ring, or anything else that involves marking me as property or a potential demographic. But this is not about what I want personally or what does or doesn't define love. This is about rights. I do not have the right, for example, to claim that my idea of expression of love is the right one. And crucially, I do not have the right to deny anyone their right to show commitment in the traditional way, gay, straight or otherwise.

Yet that is what some homophobic zealots seem to think they can do. That they can tell people who they can and cannot love.

What just really angers me is the assumption from these people that love is ever a moral decision. I do not know a single person who has ever loved according to a fucking checklist of moral ideals and preferences. Of course there is some rationale to fancying someone, however tiny. But I know gender isn't something people think about when they're attracted to somebody. And sexuality is not something you decide. It's something that you are, something that you realise. I know I was born like this. To make it a moral issue is a fallacy. It is ridiculous. No-one ever questions the morality of heterosexuality, but they feel that they can, for whatever reason, make utterly bizarre and indeed irrational judgements on those who were not born with that preference (as if even heterosexuality is simple. Sexuality is never simple.) I do not understand heterosexuality. I am not heterosexual. Do you get me picketing heterosexual marriages with a "HATE THE STRAIGHTS" sign? No. (Although that would be hilarious in every way.)

Marriage should be about your right to express love in a way cherished by people for centuries. It should be about having that choice. And yet homophobia, misunderstanding and let's not talk around this, fundamental religious propaganda have fuelled a nonsensical, uneducated hatred. Homosexual love is no less valid, no less real. Trust me, hand on my heart, when I fall for a woman, it is not her gender- although I obviously find the female form physically attractive- it is who she is. In my experience of sexuality, I am blind to gender. Maybe I say this because I am inexperienced in that respect and that’s fine, but my point is that enabling such prejudice to permeate social norms, for prejudice and misunderstanding to be so normalised? That needs, drastically, to be challenged.

This ties in to the next subject I wanted to talk about. This one is a bit of a strange one, and involves me using the word feminist. Right, let’s throw it out there using capitals. I AM A FEMINIST. I find it increasingly weird that so many women don’t want to use that word to describe themselves, lest they be labelled with a term that infuriates me- feminazi. I have no idea how that word even came about, but it exists, and is out there, used as a weapon against women who, rightfully, voice their right to equal treatment. I know far too many women who will say things like “I believe in equal rights, but I’m not a feminist.” Even though that is, essentially, the definition of feminism. It’s almost as though society has conditioned women into seeing strength as a weakness. It’s a bizarre state of affairs.

I’m not going to go into feminist theory in terms of debated definitions; that would be a waste of time and energy because it’s not the point I’m trying to make (and if you‘re reading this, you probably know me to some degree and are probably sick of me talking about it.). What I wanted to discuss- and by discuss, I mean talk at the internet about- is behaviour when it comes to sexuality in terms of gender normalisation. For example, when you are attracted to someone and on a subconscious level, you change your behaviour in order to make yourself more appealing to that person. Which is part of the giddy parcel that fancying someone is, that completely ridiculous time.

I am what people may call a hardline feminist. I have had many arguments with people about what women are and are not capable of. However, to me, I am just rational. Women and men are equal. Different, I can’t deny that, but equal. There is no reason why I should earn less than a man for doing the same job, no reason for me to be seen as automatically weaker when I’m actually ferociously strong (physically and mentally, contrary to popular belief). Equally, there is no reason to assume that men are immediately less emotional, or have any less right to be emotional, but it has been made part of our social understanding through perpetuated sexism that these ideals and assumptions exist. I do not understand why there are accepted rules for how women and men should dress to ascertain their femininity or masculinity, as if semiotics like that are really worthy of signifying anything of worth in that respect.

So why on earth would a rational feminist like myself alter her behaviour to fit those outdated and ridiculous ideals, to use a highly offensive word? I am not against wearing dresses, by the way. I am not against anything like that. What I don’t like, and highly disagree with, is the idea that you have to wear certain clothes to qualify as a person of a particular gender. I rarely wear dresses or skirts. Sometimes I do, just because I feel like a change. But mostly I feel comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt, looking decidedly tomboyish, as the typical word for apparently women who dress comfortably would describe me as. Even the word tomboy makes me uncomfortable, because it suggests that I aspire to being male, that I am expressing to wish to become something else. Au contraire, internet, being a woman isn’t something I want to change or alter; I am mostly comfortable in my body, save for the body hang-ups that, yes, even feminists have, and that beautiful monthly time when every woman will have shrieked “WHY WAS I NOT BORN A MAN?”

So why, why on earth would I alter my state of comfort to meet those stereotypes of associated gender? Why would I feel the need to betray my own identity by feeling as though I have to make the “effort” to become what I am not? This only happened once, but the fact that even body-image pressure got to me just goes to show how deep this perpetuated sexism runs; it is even part of our cultural heritage, albeit a part we need to detach, but preserve to perhaps remind ourselves of mistakes past. I know this sounds like a rather bizarre point, as everyone behaves oddly around people they are attracted to (whether or not you want to!) but I find it an ultimately disturbing point that it is still more often than not the women who are made to think that they have to constantly eradicate any signs, in their case, of non-femininity. It is when women feel as though they have to pluck and shave and put their faces on to become an antiquated, unequal and unfair representation, even a parody of the idea of being a woman. To reduce themselves to fit what men are assumed to want of women, which is not only insulting to women, but also insulting to men. To assume that half the planet are attracted to a particular set of prescribed attributes is very, very dangerous and unhealthy for progression of the idea of equality between the genders.

My point is, the danger is when you feel like you have to wear make-up, put on a dress, shave your legs and armpits and anywhere else you may sprout forth growth, rather than wanting to. Wearing a dress and being a feminist don’t have to be mutually exclusive, just as wearing make up and being a woman do not have to be equally inclusive. Make your own informed decisions.

I really want to go off on one about equal rights, which I shouldn’t. Well, I should, but perhaps another day. I was going to continue, but it would then be virtually unreadable, and it’s best to break things up a bit. I haven’t even discussed what I originally intended, because of that stupid bit of biphobia I experienced earlier, which reminded me of Prop 8, and made my blood boil. Perfect fuel for a blogged rant, as always. Next time on Planet Confessions: getting myself in potential trouble (and this time, not through cider), the rich heritage of DIY culture and my escapades back in my old homestead, and Why I Shouldn’t Like Slumdog Millionaire. Admittedly, I do love it, even though the very process of its creation, marketing and treatment of its child stars has questionable colonial aspects and issues, and perhaps racism. But next time, kids, next time.

Later!

LPK

p.s. You will have to forgive the rambling at the end of this post, my last few days have been mental and my brain is not yet up to full working order.