women have at least a 25% chance of being raped by men
but people are offended when we distrust men and try to protect ourselves
are you serious?
I have much lower odds of swimming in a pool during a storm and being struck by lightning but I still don’t do that
I have much lower odds of dying in a car crash but I still put on my seatbelt
I have much lower odds of being attacked by a shark but I still listen to life guard warnings
I have much lower odds of being in a plane hijacking but I still want the TSA to exist
I have much lower odds of dying in an earthquake but i still want there to be emergency protocols and fireproofing and retrofitting
I have much lower odds of dying to gun violence but I still don’t like guns and I still prefer safeties
I have much lower odds of catching some horrible infectious disease i still get vaccinated
and yet you are angry at me for being concerned about a 25% chance of being assaulted and violated
what the fuck is wrong with you
(via albinwonderland)
Okay, so I’m just going to try to catalog what things are in the canon about the Weeping Angels.
This is interesting to me, because they only have three storylines/ 4 episodes. It’s not like they’ve been developing over decades, or have dozens of hours of on-air history or…
How Moffat Ruined Doctor Who For My Little Sister
[DOCTOR WHO SPOILERS AHEAD]
Submitted by holycheeseandcrackers
Right, so, anyone who follows me knows that I am Not A Moffat Fan.
I have absolutely no expectations or high-hopes for the new season of Doctor Who, (he’s put me right off Sherlock, I probably won’t even watch the new season of that), and to be honest, I am exhausted with pointing out his poor writing, his use of queers as punch-lines or to ‘sex things up a bit’ and his horrendous portrayal of women. Not to mention the fact that he has utterly destroyed a show that was a part of my childhood, hugely important to me, and influenced my further explorations into fantasy and sci-fi. I have made and reblogged countless posts about how disappointed and angry I am, and at this stage I really just feel like ignoring everything until someone more competent replaces him.
I can remember the exact moment that I realised how bad the writing in Doctor Who had become:
“I don’t get it, one minute she wants to marry you, the next minute she wants to kill you!”
“She’s been brainwashed, it probably makes sense to her. Plus, she’s a woman. Oh, shut up!”
That scene was like two slaps in the face for me. First I am told that the Doctor (my Doctor) now considers my sex to be irrational and over-emotional. Then, after that, I am told that I am not allowed to complain about this. I am not allowed to say anything. I am told “Oh, shut up!” in manner which suggests that if I protest, I clearly just don’t have a sense of humour.
By the Doctor. The Doctor said that. I can’t even imagine 10 or 9 saying anything like that. It was like the Doctor had become Moffat’s mouth-piece.
After that scene, I literally just sat there, practically in shock, going Oh, wow. That one cut deep. Oh wow that was bad.
So when I watched Asylum of The Daleks, I couldn’t even be bothered. I could not. Even. Be. Bothered. I watched as the pointless, nonsensical plot meandered along, not even able to gather the strength to wonder
- Why the hell there are suddenly shitloads of Daleks,
- Why the Doctor has a new nickname (The Predator) that is also apparently age-old that we’ve never heard of,
- How Skaro has magically appeared again,
- Why Moffat thinks we all have the attention span of five-year-olds (a continuing theme)which means he has to break up an important couple off-screen and then BOOM reunite them in the same episode before it even sinks in and we can actually Give A Fuck (Again, a continuing theme – Moffat, I am not going to Give A Fuck about Mels if you cram her down my throat in a montage, and then shoot her, and then have her be River Song all in the space of ten minutes),
- Why Amy’s only concern with the whole children thing is ‘oooh poor Rory’ and not ‘actually I was trapped by a freaky cult and forced to give birth against my will so yeah, no, won’t be doing that again’ – Seriously, when she said “I can’t have children” I IMMEDIATELY assumed she meant that it would be mentally too traumatic for her.
- Why the hell Moffat thinks he can smugly claim that he represents queers in the show when he keeps pulling shit like “I went through a phase” and then has the character say that they only mentioned their girl-on-girl experience because they’re flirting.
- How the fuck Rory thinks that it is healthy, and not at all passive-aggressive to say “I love you more! We both know it!”. Seriously, that is some fucking Mr. Nice Guy TM behaviour right there. I previously liked Rory, though he had his flaws (e.g. his constant inability to trust Amy when it came to the Doctor), but that was a disturbing insight into the way his mind works. He clearly ‘keeps score’ of the things they both do for each other, and that is just wrong. 2,000 years, Rory? You weren’t ASKED to wait. You didn’t HAVE to. But now you’re going to hold that over Amy’s head as Proof I Love You More And You Can Never Top That forever? After everything Amy has been through? Jesus.
- Plus there was the weird implication that if Amy did love Rory less, that means she has less love in her for the Daleks to erase. So if she can’t love Mr. Super Perfect Rory, she can’t love anyone? What about her family, her friends? Get over yourself, Rory.
- So many other things. Too many other things.
And to be honest, I wasn’t even going to bother complaining about it. I am just shit sick of Moffat, and his failure to listen to any criticism whatsoever, and his brushing off of the concerns of the show’s fans.
But then something happened that has made me very angry, and I feel the need to share.
Just last week I happened to be awake at 3 am and heard “go away, stop it” from outside my apartment window. Of course I was worried and wound up going outside with my cell phone and my pocket knife (the cell phone so I could pretend I was on it). I found a woman across the street, 18-20, somewhat drunk and trying to pull away from a guy claiming to be her boyfriend. After walking to the end of the block and back I sucked it up and stopped right next to them and asked her if she was okay. No. I asked if she knew him. Yes. I asked if he was her boyfriend. No. I asked if she wanted to go with him. No. I told her she could come with me. He wouldn’t let go of her arm and kept talking to her with the platitudes women are familiar with - come on baby, I’ll take you home, just hang out with me, we were having such a good time - and eventually he gave in after seeing I had my finger on the dial button, but he was vibrating on the spot and he was pissed. Then he kept talking to me with all the insults women are familiar with - bitch, cunt, stupid fucking slut, etcetera forever. And of course he went after her for “leading him on.” I got her in a cab from my front door and went so far as to make sure I didn’t turn on any lights when I went inside so he wouldn’t know that my apartment was on the basement level facing the street where he was standing.
But this isn’t a problem or anything.
A few months ago I was working late shifts at work and getting off at 3 am. I only live a few blocks from there, so I was walking home. This was when there was a series of attacks against women in my neighbourhood. Not rapes, but escalating attempts to harm women, involving choking. So yes, I was on red alert. A group of five men from the bars saw me walking home. They started calling out to me - again, with all the lines women are used to (that, by the way guys, are not in the least bit attractive) - hey baby, where you goin, come on just stay and chat, a pretty thing like you shouldn’t be going home alone, where do you live. I ignored them and walked faster, and they sped up to keep up with me. Five men in their 20s. Following me home, drunk, and getting progressively angrier that I wouldn’t talk to them. “Why the fuck you being so rude? We just want to talk, quit being such a frigid bitch.” *guffaw guffaw* “Baby come on slow down, have some coffee with us.” I walked even faster, still not talking to them. I have foot and knee injuries, so this was getting really painful and I couldn’t have broken into a run if I’d tried. They thought this whole thing was quite hilarious and quite rude of me, never mind that I’m the one being followed home by drunk strangers. I finally looped a block and backtracked to the main road, which is really well-lit, and plopped myself dead centre in the middle of the ambulance-police combo that is in front of one of the bars every Saturday night without fail.
But street harassment isn’t a problem or anything.
Walking down a bright road in daylight, men lean out of car windows and honk and cheer at me and my friends. This has been happening since I was 14. Many of them are stuck at the same light we are, so we spend a good two minutes listening to them ask us to flash them. “Just show us your titties, we’ll give you each $5!”
Going to a bar and getting my ass groped at the bar as a precursor to offering to buy me a drink. I don’t know if men think this is a demonstration of their sexual abilities, or what, but it happens all the time.
Walking home from Walmart at 10pm and having a guy walk by me say “nice titties” thinking I can’t hear him because I have headphones in. Worst of all, spinning in anger and having to keep my mouth shut, because it could get a lot worse really fast.
Being “accidentally” groped on buses and trains frequently (they say they’re stumbling and that’s where their hands end up, but come on: I’m on the same vehicle, there was no jolt, and even if their was my hands don’t wind up on them), and not being able to complain without everybody thinking you’re crazy.
Dancing at a bar and having a guy slide his hand down the front of my pants. And then getting thrown out for elbowing him and shoving him away from me.
Getting told to smile by strangers (always men), and being told to cheer up, like I owe them a certain mood.
Having a guy you slept with once sit outside your house for seven hours, and then try to follow you inside while you pretend not to notice his car, and then disregard your requests through the intercom to leave you alone. And then, when you finally call the police, having the policeman call you back to say “He’s leaving, but he sounded sincerely sorry. You shouldn’t be so hard on him, he sounds like a nice guy.” Yeah, give him your home address then.
Having male customers look you up and down like you’re on the menu, and not being able to slap the customer who grabs your ass while you’re cleaning tables because you’ll be fired.
Finding out your sister’s employer felt comfortable uttering threats to punch her in the face for accusing him of being unfair, and her not feeling like she could tell anybody.
Having my male boss feel like he can touch me, rub my shoulders, call me honey and sweetheart and baby, and him being right, he can do those things, because everybody calls you oversensitive if you complain about those things.
Being followed home numerous times, both on foot and by car, being forced to talk to the guy who sits next to you on the bus for 45 minutes straight, and since I couldn’t think of a non-threatening way not to give him my phone number, I did so that I could get away. It took him a year and a half to stop calling me. Being told I’m paranoid for carrying any kind of protection, and stupid for not protecting myself, I’m a misandrist for assuming the worst of strange men, and stupid for having a conversation, I’m rude for asking men to leave me alone, and stupid and weak for not being more direct and assertive. Being told to go out and have fun more, stop being so uptight, and having that thrown in my face when something happens, because if I had some morals and didn’t advertise myself as, I don’t know, being alive or something, nothing would have happened. Being told to give him a chance and then being told to stop leading him on. Having to know all of the escape routes on my way home, and sending staff to the dumpsters in pairs. Having it be a fucking brave thing to do to stand next to a girl so she can walk away from the guy trying to bully her into going home with him.
And then having to listen to people say, “You’re exaggerating. Men aren’t like that, quit trying to see the worst in people. Men get harassed too, just ignore them and walk away. It’s the same thing.” Listening to people just step right over the fact that if woman deems a guy creepy, she’s told she’s being too critical and she needs to lower her standards, but if a man deems a woman possessive, controlling, demanding, jealous, bitchy, clingy, psycho, on her period, whiny, or outright dangerous he’s commended on his standards and congratulated on a bullet deftly dodged.
How many women does it take to bring these things to light before people stop thinking we’re crazy, over-critical bitches?
(via albinwonderland)
My mistrust [of men] is not, as one might expect, primarily a result of the violent acts done on my body, nor the vicious humiliations done to my dignity. It is, instead, born of the multitude of mundane betrayals that mark my every relationship with a man—the casual rape joke, the use of a female slur, the careless demonization of the feminine in everyday conversation, the accusations of overreaction, the eye rolling and exasperated sighs in response to polite requests to please not use misogynist epithets in my presence.
(via abbtastic)
This. This this this.
Also, this + legislative actions that curtail my human rights and demean my worth as a human being.
But you know, no biggie right? Just get over it!
(via stfufauxminists)
(via albinwonderland)
