Something Actually

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I really do love social media. I love the internet. I think of it as an actual thing that we’ve built and curated and contributed to. Even the mundane memes and pictures of food. But I love food, so its okay. Twitter is both fantastic and horrific in the same breath. I am fascinated with what can be said in the brevity of a message and what others decide to share. It’s probably a nightmare and a half for public relations and other types that have talent to manage and look after. Consider when you have people like me, with the fast enough fingers to screencap Tyler Bozak sharing a picture of him in blackface for Halloween and then deciding to delete it. Not so fast, the internet doesn’t forget.

On the flip, I hate tweets like that. I totally get people have their opinions and if you’ve read through my twitter feed you’d see I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about McNuggets and Storage Wars. I hate stuff like this because of the attached disappointment. As much as it infuriates me, let them sing. I want to know who to be mad at. Go ahead, by all means, share your illuminating thoughts because I want a list of of people I can put on my DEAD TO ME list.

First, Cabbie, I think you meant WARY.

Second, so if dudes hang with other dudes does that mean its because they like getting their “egos” stroked?

Third, okay. Stop it. I’m just ARGH a tower of rage over this idea. And with every other person who retweeted in agreement. But my feed is filled with wonderful people, both men and women who did not like Cabbie’s tweet and told him as such. That warmed my heart some. Anyway. My friends are my friends are my friends and whatever they have going on in their swimsuits areas doesn’t change shit. I do not keep numbers and data to see if my female to male friend ratio is in check. What is that ratio? One male friend for every four females?

Quit buying into this men are from Mars and women are shedevil tripe. Its 2012, we still have people dredging up tired tropes to be assholes to each other which is unacceptable to me. Men (wait this goes for everyone) you aren’t allowed to have an opinion if I wear too much makeup, not enough, my hair color, my hair style, my hair length and so forth. Like, patriarchy is the WORST. For fuck’s sake Iowa passed a law saying an employee can be fired if they are a sexual distraction. I’m sparing you my rant on rape culture and slut shaming and why you shouldn’t be shitty to ice girls. The fact they are demeaned as “girls” makes my blood boil but moving on…

Also, ladies: when was the last time your guy friends showered you in compliments? Because for me, its never. So please Cabbie, enlighten to me as to what the dynamics of this ego stroking entails. Wait, wait. Is this friendzoning? Is this why you are being nice to a woman? Is this why you don’t like women hanging around men? Because you just want to treat her as a penis cozy? This is a great primer on friendzoning and why you should stop using it as justification to be dick. Here’s my fave section which sums up my venom:

So, what’s wrong? You’re a nice guy, right? Why aren’t theses Stupid Whores showing you their vaginas? Probably because you’re too nice. You should be a douche bag like that guy she dated who had interests besides pretending to be her friend while simultaneously trying to eye-laser her pants off. Well, good news: you ARE a douche bag!

Consider something for me. Imagine that I, an incredibly good-looking, nice, eligible man, was walking into a shop ahead of you. As I reach the door I stop to look behind me, and I see you there only a few paces away. So I wait and hold the door. Maybe you say something like, “Thanks, bro. That was really nice.”

To which I respond, “Yeah, it was. Now you know what you have to do, right?” And I take my dick out.

Would that be uncomfortable for you? Would it be unpleasant for you to live in a world where, if a man was nice to you, it meant he expected you to pleasure him sexually? Guess what! That’s uncomfortable for women, too. Isn’t that weird? It’s almost like they’re the same kind of person you are. WEIRD!

No, actually. It’s not weird. It turns out they are the same kind of person you are, and having unwanted dicks around is as horrifying to them as it is to you. So, stop. Stop it with your unwanted dick.

I’m a big believer in calling people out. Because well, if you let someone carry on as is without bringing their problems to light, nothing changes. And maybe nothing will change or it will be so small it feels the same. But I think we’ve got it in us. The internet is one of the greatest tools of social good when harnessed accordingly. I have learned so much and do everyday because of the people I interact with in these pithy bursts. These people are so wonderful and have bailed me out with homework, offered academic resources, sent me birthday cards or just random packages of cheer. Hell, some have even bought me a drink. And I am so grateful for these interactions.

My wish, my hope, my dream is that in 2013 we are kinder to each other. These past few months have been rough. And I’m not just talking about the lockout. Every morning I open news sites with a ball of dread sitting on my heart. Can we chip away at things to try and make things better?

Because if you can’t say it on Christmas, when can you say it?