Dear BB,
I’ve seen a lot of talk about combating bi and femme invisibility lately, which is pretty great. But I’m still struggling with some conflicting feelings. How do I, a bisexual, femme woman in a long-term relationship with a man celebrate who I am without seeming like I’m just trying to join a Special Pony parade?
Read the rest of her question and my answer over at BitterEmpire.com.
So, I got an email from President Obama’s office calling for a “national conversation about race.”
We do not need any conversation. White people need to stop being racist. Full stop. That is what needs to happen.
And when we openly murder black people on crowded streets, we need to GO TO JAIL. What the actual fuck, America?
A friend’s comment on FB regarding my writing etiquette advice: “What? You mean like which fork to use?” Made me run to my well-thumbed copy of Miss Manners’ Guide to Excruciatingly Correct Behavior to type in her comments on this, because they are wonderful:
If Miss Manners hears any more contemptuous descriptions of etiquette as being a matter of ‘knowing which fork to use,’ she will run amok with a sharp weapon, and the people she attacks will all be left with four tiny holes in their throats as if they had been the victims of twin vampires.
Knowing or caring which fork to use is regularly cited as proof of that one is narrowly fixed on a detail of life that is probably a deliberate booby trap set by the snobbish to catch the unsuspecting, and that therefore one has no time or heart left for the great spiritual values of life. The Great Fork Problem is used to ridicule the holy subject of etiquette, but the defenders of etiquette use it too, when they claim that manners are ‘a matter of being considerate of others, not which fork to use.’ In either case, this is like declaring that as long as you truly have love for humanity, it is not important that you happened to put your left shoe on your right foot and your right shoe on your left foot.
Forks are not that difficult. It is possible that anyone who has learned to operate a computer, kitchen appliance or washer with delicate fabric cycles may also be capable of being trained to operate as many as three forks.
Why is this important? Because the person who has not mastered the fork is going to make a mess, miss the last course of dinner, or make the hostess get up from the table. Also, the forks may get tired some day of being bad mouthed, and may cut off your food supply. Therefore, we will now take a minute to learn everything there is to know about Which Fork to Use.
Use the farthest to the left.
That’s it. That’s all there is to know. Now run outside and cultivate the spirit until dinnertime.
Dear Bitter Butch,
People at work seem to want to know details about my chronic condition. I’ve told them that I have fibromyalgia, which is why I sometimes miss work. They ask questions about my medications and doctors. I’d rather not discuss these things. It doesn’t help that they talk freely about their colds, headaches, surgeries, hot flashes, etc. What should I do?
Read my answer at bitterempire.com.
PS I do not know how the editor is going to be able to top the last two images that went with my columns.
Oh, you guys. You are sending me the most amazing, amazing letters. I feel so honored.
Here is my next column. More to come. Oh, your amazing letters. Keep ’em coming at bitterbutch@bitterempire.com. Thank you.
Dear Bitter Butch:
When my husband and I were engaged he bought me flowers, huge amounts on my birthday (the day before Valentine’s Day) and Valentine’s Day. The other guys at work said he should stop making them look bad. I love flowers. He promised me he would keep doing it. In the twenty-one years since we got married he says he never knows what to buy me. I say ‘I love flowers!’ A couple of times when I whined, a lot. Really whined. He bought me a bouquet. Once my son made him do it. Is there any way I can get him to buy me flowers without feeling passive aggressive? Signed, flowerless.
Here’s how I really want to answer this letter: with a note to your husband that says: “Buy your wife flowers. What the actual fuck. This is not difficult or complicated. Buy her. Flowers. Today. DOOOOOOOOD.”
But he didn’t write me. You did. So I’m going to take your question at face value. Read the rest of my answer.
From Piecemeal Reviews:
“The short story, Belly, by Haddayr Copley-Woods, featured in the July/August issue of Fantasy & Science Fiction fascinates, disgusts, and digs into the brain of itself, conjuring magic within its own spinning yarn. With a hive of witches and an unsuspecting girl, Copley-Woods clearly uses fairytales as inspiration for Belly, but that’s simply a model for her larger themes: abuse and personal destiny. After I read Belly, I forced it into my writer friends’ hands, excited, hopeful, distracted and envious of what they would experience for the first time. Rarely does it feel like a crime to have something so remarkable not freely available for everyone to read.” Read the whole thing.
I have only wanted to do this since I was, say, nine.
Here is the first column! Please send me your crippy, queirdo, bitter, lovelorn, confused, pervy, and etiquette questions to bitterbutch@bitterempire.com!
I will answer the living shit out of your questions! I will answer like you’ve never been answered before. When I answer a question, IT STAYS ANSWERED.
Dear Bitter Butch,
Should I hold the door for people in wheelchairs? It seems only courteous; I hold them for people pushing strollers. But it feels super awkward if they’re not right behind me and I stand there holding the door for like a minute and a half while they make their way up the ramp. Help! I don’t want them to be stuck outside, I live in a cold climate!
A: There is so much angst over door opening and wheelchairs! And now you’ve added freezing to death on top of it. Read my whole answer.
I was so honored and delighted to be among thousands of multi-ethnic people in Minneapolis protesting the Washington team’s horrible, hateful, racist nickname today, with my two young sons (their father has a broken toe, so he participated by providing very necessary drop off and pickup.)
I’ve been a little bothered by some of the news media describing traded insults between protestors and football fans. I didn’t see any of the protestors attempting to engage the fans at all. One Washington fan looked at my Tshirt that imitated their logo with “Rename” instead of “R*dsk*ns” and he opened his coat on this cold morning to grin at me and show his R*dsk*ns logo, leering in challenge. Do I need to point out that he picked the obviously disabled white woman to do this with and what sort of bravery that took?
I gave him a big smile and said: “Hello!” and he stammered and said, “Um, hello” and ran into the stadium.
That was the ugliest interaction I saw.
What it really was: many different nations of Natives coming together (with other supporters of all different races): Ojibwe, Sioux, Lakota, Dakota, Mexica, Ho-Chunk. Many more, I am sure. Those are just the ones I spotted. Speaking out about their culture and their suffering at the hands of men in Washington. Praying together for peace and respect. Singing songs, holding signs, greeting one another. Talking about how much this horrible racist nickname damages them.
A bunch of Vikings fans watching us as we gathered, many giving us thumbs-up. Some looking intensely uncomfortable but not engaging. Lots and lots of cops taking pictures and saying hello. Nervous-looking staff at TCF Stadium.
Thousands and thousands of us.
From Jezebel:
But what I know, after a lifetime of studying BDSM, is that this type of play is impossible to perform safely and ethically without the most stringent and deeply understood mutual consent. I won’t do it with just anyone I pick up at a show or find on the Internet. Along with most ethical kinksters, I always start a new partner—even one who is champing at the bit—off with deliberate, slow, and limited forms of BDSM play. Every toy, every humiliating phrase, and every aspect of the tempo and intensity of the scene are negotiated carefully in advance. I wouldn’t role-play a scene involving force or reluctance on anyone whose reactions I didn’t know like the back of my hand. And when I do play that way, I’m not only listening for safe words: I’m reading the reactions of my partner, continually looking for their arousal, for that light in their eyes that tells me that they’re on board. I am looking for adverse reactions, too, and I check in if I see or hear signs of a panic attack or dissociation, like a change in breathing pace, voice tone, or the size of pupils.
If anyone ever reacted to me the way Ghomeshi’s victims reportedly responded to him, with signs of obvious reluctance and disgust, I would stop, instantly.
Maybe Ghomeshi is telling the truth and has respected the consent of his partners, but I don’t buy it. The xoJane piece and the anonymous reports from his other victims seem of a type. They tend to paint Ghomeshi as an abuser, not a kinkster. Real kinksters have a healthy fear of the devastating consequences of violating consent. If I fancy someone, I won’t lay a finger upon them until I am convinced of their eagerness. Unlike Ghomeshi, I do not slake my thirst for domination and control upon unwilling and clearly protesting people.
Read the whole piece, by experienced kinkster and professional dominatrix Margaret Corvid.
I want media outlets to stop using the phrase ‘sex allegations’ when they mean ‘rape allegations.’ I want them to stop using the phrase ‘priest sex scandal’ and instead use ‘child rape scandal.’ These headlines minimize and mislead and they are CONTRIBUTING TO RAPE CULTURE.
Consider this headline from The Star:
This sounds like they think he cheated on his wife, or visited a sex worker, or engaged in some sort of kinky but still perfectly acceptable sexual behavior. Nope! They think he raped people. Because that’s what multiple women, unrelated to one another, have come forward and said that he did.
When you write headlines like this about accused rapists, you make rape sound like something that is sort of titillating and fun. Something uptight people might have a problem with. Something sexual, that is necessarily between consenting adults, and is private.
That’s not what rape is, fuckfaces. Rape is not sex. It is rape.
Other headlines. I fixed them for the outlets; my additions in red. You’re welcome, assholes:
Jian Ghomeshi reveals details of sex scandal rape allegations after threatening to sue CBC for $50 million
Jian Ghomeshi Says CBC Split Came After Sex Life Details Threatened To Emerge; Actual Details Were Rape Allegations
— Huffington Post
Ghomeshi defends sex life despite the fact that he was fired for rape allegations, plans to sue CBC over firing
The Globe and Mail
Gawker is the only easily googleable headline that actually makes sense:
Report: CBC Radio Host Jian Ghomeshi Attacked Three Women During Sex
After the ‘catholic priest sex scandal’ that was actually a ‘catholic priest child rape and massive coverup scandal,’ then comes this. I’ve had it.
STOP THE BULLSHIT. YOUR VERY HEADLINES ARE RAPE APOLOGIES. STOP IT.
As my friend Naomi put it: “Dear Media People: YOU CAN BE THE CHANGE YOU WANT TO SEE IN THE WORLD.”
Haddayr Copley-Woods
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