Hidden Abuses in our Culture…

I am far from the only person who has blogged about misogyny. I hope to not be the last. Recently I have become aware of a subtle malignant cancer in our world. I turn on my TV and see a woman in a cast giving various excuses often used by abused women to justify her injury, which came from cleaning too much. I got angry fast. Growing up in an abusive household I could see myself there, I could see my mother there. “I fell down.” Really? You fell down… Then at the end another woman comes up and is wearing an identical cast and points out she was just cleaning.

Oh, let us mock the plight of women trapped in abusive situations fearing for their lives daily. Ha. HA. HA. Very funny. /sarcasm

I am aghast at the horrors that can be made to denigrate women. At Shakesville there is an entire series about disembodied body parts. This is a huge eye opener. I am not just a pair of legs, breasts, or a disembodied mouth opened for the pleasure of man. Really, as a disabled woman I am not sure some of my parts would work in the ways that these “artists” claim they would. Is it art to make a pillow out of a woman’s vulva? Some might say yes, but I disagree.

I would not classify myself as a feminist in many ways, but, as a woman who advocates for her own needs and the needs of others, and takes a special interest in the rights of women and hidden privileged in this society, I am a feminist. I am not sure how else to say it. I do shave my legs, I do like pleasure, and I do not hate all men. I used to, as a psychological reaction to my abuse, but, now I can appreciate their value equally with the values of women.

I am aware that just talking about what goes on in the world here won’t necessarily make a difference, however, it is a start. I can start a discussion. I can perhaps get someone to think. I can perhaps open someone’s eyes so that they can see themselves in a new light.

Not the kind of light a new study talks about. This study is trying to excuse the objectification by men of women. The problem with their result is that these are grown men, and they are already trained by their parents to objectify women. I am not an object. Treat me as one and I do kick back.

For more reading on this subject, you can try these links.

The Disembodied Parts Series at Shakesville

The New Study in more detail at Feministing

Eventually I will try to get a vide of the atrocious commercial.

The Wheels on the Butt Go Round and Round…

Today is a busy day, and I hurt enough to make me want to not just crawl under a rock, but to make the rock cry to share my pain. This tactic is not healthy but it is very human, so, I must chant the mantra today that makes me feel the best. “Centered, warmth, healing light, none other shall have to face my plight. I am strong, I am beautiful, I am capable, and my bed waits for me to finish my tasks.” A little long but it helps me get going with a smile. I am eating a delicious breakfast made by my Male Person of Awesomeness, while he showers. The cats are both coming on our adventures today.

This will be our first time taking William Shakespurr out with us. Today’s activities consist of Veterinarian, Bank and the oh so fun Wheelchair Repair Trade off.  The wheels under my butt don’t want to go round and round. Since the first day I got my scooter things have been falling off. Getting it out the door to the house the first time I clipped the wall and lost a chunk of the plastic frame. The second time it was better but I clipped a rock at an SCA event (pebble sized) and lost a bit more. A rattle started a bit later and here we are Six Months into ownership of my own Personal Freedom Mobile, and it is broken.

Man of Awesome loaded it into the van and bumped an empty cardboard box, and the box won. The lights died and now half the time it won’t move. The scooter seems to be defective! What a concept right? It has had power issues the entire time I have dealt with it, but, I had no way of knowing it wasn;’t normal to have it whine, vibrate, jerk about, and rattle. The death rattle grew worse after it stalled out in the new apartment. I hit the wall goooood, and broke the plastic frame, and the entire system died for eight hours. I used the wall as a pillow, since my bed wasn’t home yet and everything else wasn;t here yet. I was the first piece of decoration in our apartment, a wall fixture I might add.

All comedy aside, this experience gave me a new light on the scooter. While it sucks horrible in many ways, those ways are made up for by the fact that I can race someone to the car, and WIN. First time in my life. I don’t have to try and brace my bosom so that they don’t smack me in the face, I don’t have to worry about a dislocated knee, I can zip right out there and not even break a sweat. I also have the freedom of leaving the house by myself for the first time in years. I don’t have to hide in my room if I want privacy and solitude, I merely have to get rolling.

The Maiden of ButtWheel Repair has warned that I might not be able to get this particular chair back, and that I might want to look at other designs. What I truly want is just a wheelchair shaped item, no long nose, just a nice, cushy chair. I would need to add on a few particulars, like a basket for the cat to sit in, and my sunshade, but, after that? I could maybe make it around some of the walls in the apartment, or maybe squish into that store that is barely inaccessible. Scooters add to the inaccessibility issue facing stores and their handicapped customers, though they are great for some people.

I already miss my wheels…

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