On Showing Off The 'Good' Brown People

Hello!

Been a while, hasn't it? Been meaning to write but have been busy with new job and stuff (more on that in next post).

I am still to write my yearly round up, but today I thought I would deal with something that has been bugging me under the surface for a while and today popped its head up and screamed OI! at me.

The idea of debunking racism by being racist. Was chatting with the fab @poppycocktails on Twitter about it and wanted to get our thoughts down coherently. If there are any ideas that aren't coherent, be sure that they are mine and not hers. She was very clear. Me, not so much.

Now, don't get me wrong, I know and will reiterate that it is not the intent of people who are doing this to be vindictive or racist. I know and will reiterate that their intent is good and well meaning, even if the ideas behind their actions are deeply flawed. I know and will reiterate that it comes from a good place and that I will be seen as a baddy for pointing any of this out but you know me. I'm nothing if not honest. Even (especially) if it is going to get me into hot water.

So what has got my goat this time? The idea of the Good Brown Person.

The what now? (I hear you ask)

You know. The Muslims and Sikhs and refugees (gonna count them in as Brown to illustrate my point.) who are 'helping out' with the clean up after the floods in Yorkshire.

Syrians who want to give back to the communities that have shown them kindness.

The Sikhs and the Muslims who have been cooking and cleaning,

'Aren't they great?!' the narrative screams. 'THEY'RE NOT ALL EVIL AND SCARY OR JOB STEALY OR ANYTHING! Look, they are good ones.'

The problem with this is that as well meaning as I truly believe it is, it is wrapped in a subtle racism.

These Sikhs/Muslims/Refugees are not 'giving back' to communities, they are members of those communities and to label them otherwise, to hold them up as a shining example of a religion or a race is othering and missing the point.

By showing off the Good Brown People, (well meaning as it is, and I cannot reiterate this enough) it buys into the very narrative it is trying to debunk. It misses the point that actually, Muslims/Sikhs/Immigrants are not an homogeneous group of people whether they are attacking people at a Eagles of Death Metal gig or sweeping up their front yards in Yorkshire.

All of us have the capacity to be shits or angels or somewhere in between. Most of us, I would suggest fall into the latter category and are somewhere in between. ALL OF US.

So, Lazy Muslims/Sikhs.Immigrants are a thing. Not all of them are out trying to prove that they are not like the others. Holding up Good Brown People to show that shouldn't be a thing. It's desperately sad that we have come to this. No matter how well meaning people are being. (I truly believe they are. I may have mentioned this)

You would do better to argue with those that think that All Muslims Are Terrorists or that All Immigrants Steal Jobs or that All Sikhs Rip You Off and that NONE OF THEM EVER EVEN TRY TO INTEGRATE that actually they are human beings and they are the communities that they have gone in to 'help'. That they are the infrastructure of teachers and doctors and public servants and cleaners and nurses and leaders that idiots think that they are a drain on.

They don't have to integrate into communities. They are the communities.

Even better. Try to stop thinking about the Good Brown People as THEY and start just thinking of US.

I usually have a pithy rejoinder to end a post with but today I am stuck for one. (I'm blaming the work lurgy)

I will just end with the thought that I will stop being pissed off when we, the people, start realising who we, the people, actually are.

David Cameron Face Fucked A Dead Pig - Allegedly

I'll say that again. David Cameron, Prime Minister, allegedly face fucked a dead pig. (You know I'm saying allegedly coz I have to right?)

And nobody was surprised.

Amused, yes. Surprised, no.

And now a picture has emerged which is apparently of a young, naked Cameron (except for bow tie) looking at the pig's head on the lap of someone (don't know who, if it matters it will come out soon enough) with a look on his face of, well, I'm not sure really. Studious readiness it would seem. (though I do wonder, if this picture turns out to be real, what his face looked like on the other 23 pictures that would have been on the roll.)

You know those questions you see on Facebook quizzes, stuff like 'Would you cross the road butt naked RIGHT NOW for £10000?' (well yeah, it's just flesh) well, this is like a really high stakes version of that.

WOULD YOU SLIDE YOUR CHUNGUS INTO A DEAD PIGS MOUTH FOR A CHANCE TO BE PRIME MINISTER?!!

Bit unsubtle?

How about, would you slip your bulbous salutation into the oral cavity of a deceased porcine?

Or maybe Eton mess in pigs cheek anyone?

Well, would you?

Actually, don't answer that. The answer isn't that important. What is important is the responses to the allegations of the dead pork fellatio.

There seem to have been a range of responses. Let's deal with them in turn.

Boys will be boys.

And girls will be girls. Dogs will be dogs and cats will be cats. Dolphins will be dolphins. Actually, dolphins are a bad example as anyone who has seen the video of one wanking himself off with a dead fish will attest to, but generally, being of a specific gender or even species does not mean we should expect sex acts with dead pigs.

He was young

Ah yes. The folly of youth. Who hasn't done silly things when they were younger? Not me. I have done some really stupid things. We all have. I am willing to bet that for none of you, much like myself, they involved having carnal knowledge of sunday's dinner. And now that he is older and Prime Minister he takes that same sense of entitlement and looks down on us and implements policies that kill people. Literally kill people. And he is just getting started on his quest for domination.

It isn't true

Well now, how do you know? If it isn't, how come still no denial and actually, it is something that we have no problem believing. That says a lot about how we view the monied classes. We think that face fucking a dead pig is something they would do.

So what?

Actually this is a good point. Why should we care? Does it matter? the pig was dead so it couldn't object, and who did it harm really?

Yes. It matters. Yes we should care. When the route to power is not through democracy, not through merit and is instead about who is willing to put their old chap in Peppa's mouth then there is something really very wrong. When Lord Ashcroft openly admits that he is doing this because £8m into the tory coffers didn't get him the exact job he wanted then we can no longer hide. We can no longer plead plausible deniablity about where power comes from and how it is distributed.

We always knew that power was for sale in Parliament. We always knew that it was corrupt. We always knew that politics for Conservatives was a game that posh boys played so that when they retired they could make even more money. We knew it and apart from when it suited us (expenses scandal and money for questions) we ignored it.

And now we can't.

Because of Lord Ashcroft, his major league tantrum and the lust for power that became (alleged) sexy time with a dead pig we cannot ignore it any more. This has to be the point where we demand change. This has to be the point where we say 'Enough. You will not fuck us any more. We're not pigs.'

Because if we don't, for generation after generation after generation it won't just be the pig that gets fucked.

Happy Bi Visibility Day!!!!

Says a lot that we need a day doesn't it?

Like for the rest of the year we are skulking in the shadows, being all fancying all genders like a dirty secret.

I know that only yesterday I was travelling the city via the rooftops at night time lest I was showing my bisexuality for all to see. It was a close run thing. I was nearly spotted casting my eye over an attractive redhead with massive boobs.And then there was a woman I liked the look of too. Luckily I styled it out and walked into a lamp post instead.

PHEW.

Some of us are loud and proud. We know who we are and we refuse to hide.

Understated as ever.

Some of us aren't.

Some of us are bullied into hiding who we are by a society that doesn't get it just to save us having to explain about our sexuality again. And again. And again.

Some of us are in a monogamous relationship with someone who is of the opposite gender to us. Happily so. We don't feel the need to cheat. We don't suddenly become straight because partner with penis.

Some of us are not visible because we are gaslighted into believing that it was just a phase by abusive, insecure male partners who cannot believe that they are good enough for us and that by also being attracted to women we bring their masculinity into question and they can't have that.

Also, 'Can I watch?' No. Fuck off.

Some of us get raped as a way to 'make us straight'.

Some of us get beaten up.

Some of us get put into therapy for being 'confused'.

And when we have a relationship with a woman we are called lesbians and men still want to have a go at us.

And oh my gods can the Muckdoc press stop sexualizing and fetishising us please?

We get called greedy like because gender isn't a barrier to attraction we are having ALL OFF TEH SEX. It might be nice but personally I don't have THAT MUCH OF TEH TIMEZ and certainly not ENOUGH OF TEH ENERGY.

Just pick a side. Oh just fuck off. I refuse to play into the gender binary or your bullshit heteronormativity. Just fuck the fuck off.

And *side eyes LGBT community* more needs to be done to include us. So that we are not just this sexy threat who will steal your man and your woman (or non binary person) but we are seen as people. People who just happen to not see gender as a barrier to attraction.

That way we might be safer.

That way we might not have to kill ourselves or do irreparable damage to our mental health.

That way, instead of skulking around like Dr Lesbo and Ms Straight we will be able to just say hello. Here I am.

So happy bi visibility day.

I look forward to the day we don't need it.

Not greedy. Not confused. Just bisexual.

Jeremy Corbyn Ate My Hamster And Other Such Bollocks

Hello.

Been a while hasn't it?

I know I've been neglecting you all and this blog for a while. I've been introspective. Yeah, who knew that was possible in an age where every single one of my thoughts is vomited out onto the ether before it even has a chance to fully form. Certainly not me.

I haven't had the time or energy to write.

Plus, we got kittens so, you know, distracted.

Tonight though Frida Kahtlo and Sylvia Purrlhurst (yes really) are in the other room so they don't lie across the shiny thing demanding attention while I try to write.

So, *pours drink* *sits back* what's been happening?

Well, I got assaulted, got engaged, ended one friendship, reestablished another, signed up for uni, got two toes broken, nearly came to fisticuffs with my gynaecologist (separate posts coming on all that) and we got a left wing Labour Party leader.

I KNOW RIGHT?!?!?

I type it and there is a part of me that still doesn't believe it.

Two years ago I joined the Labour Party and man did I have to eat shit for it. I was a sell out. I was establishment. Naiive, stupid, a dreamer. I couldn't change anything, why waste my time when I could be helping to build a party of the left.

I joined Labour rather than other 'left' parties for three reasons.

a) I'm not a big fan of rampant sexism, rape apology, domestic abuse apology, thuggish behaviour or trans misogyny.

b) the parties the above refers to are so far from being viable or effective it isn't even funny.

c) I have a strong attachment to the Labour Party. It was built by trades unions, it used to be the party of the working class and dammit Blairites, I WANT IT BACK.

And then along came Jeremy.

And the party laughed. And they said, sure, we'll let him on the ballot so we can have a debate, why not?  And on the ballot he went.

And a movement built behind him and he went and bloody won. All the shit I had eaten was worth it.

Then the backlash. Corbyn's bike was Maoist. Corbyn didn't appoint enough women. Corbyn hates rugby. Corbyn HAD CONSENSUAL SEX. Corbyn once flicked a bogey at your nan. The media are shitting themselves and it shows.

And the more they have a go at him the more popular he gets. He's like Obi Wan Fucking Kenobi with that shit. And I like it. I like that he looked like a geography teacher in a borrowed tie at PMQs. I like that he humanised the people the Tories are literally killing with their policies by naming them. I would call it a stroke of political genius but it felt too genuine for that.

I like that he has appointed Shadow Ministers for Mental Health, Young People and Voter Registration.

Though I am waiting for the 'Corbyn set fire to the barn that killed Grace Archer' story.

So I went to my first LP meeting this week. I am going to two more next week. There were lots of new members and first timers there and we all wanted to get stuck in.

Parliament may not be the best way to run the country but its what we have so it can't be ignored.

And for the first time in a very long time I feel hope. Hope that things can, and will, get better. Hope that there may actually be a future.

Hope that people will matter more than banks.

So two messages.

One, for everyone who told me I was stupid to stick with the labour party. Fuck off.

And to the Blairites who have had a hold on my party for 20 years.

You can't keep it. I will fight for it from within as long as I have breath and no amount of sneering or flinching will stop me flying the red flag.

#Thegeographyteachercometh

Fuck You

CW being triggered, gaslighting and abusive creepy behaviour.

It has been nearly two weeks since I saw you last and yet you are still heavily in my thoughts. I wish I could say this was for good reasons but I can't.

I have been to work, been out with family, played with my kittens, done all of my day to day things and yet you are in my head.

Especially when I sleep.

The nightmares are back you see. Lucid and scary and full of adrenaline sweats. The theme of these most recent of night terrors is being vulnerable and not believed.

I go to festivals a lot. It is my time to be me and until this one and your creepy behaviour it had never occurred to me that I was vulnerable.

This has made me feel unsafe and will mean that the whole festival experience is sullied for me now so fuck you.

Fuck you for attracting my attention by stroking me on the back of the arm from behind. Even though I have asked you not to.

Fuck you for denying you do this.

Fuck you for suggesting that you get ice cubes for my nipples when the sun heated up my piercings.

Fuck you for lying about it and saying it never happened even though other people who were there later apologised for their part in that conversation.

Fuck you for watching me sleep. Fuck you most of all for that. Fuck you for being there staring at me in a creepy way when I woke up.

Fuck you for denying this was creepy and saying that you were watching me for my own good as I was making 'strange noises'. Fuck you for saying 'everyone was concerned' when you were alone watching me.

Fuck you for calling me a liar.

Fuck you for being the Queen of the Call Out then blocking me so I couldn't reply.

Fuck you for playing the victim in this when others have come forward to tell me about your inappropriate behaviour with them.

Fuck you for trying to make me doubt the truth.

Just fuck you.

I will get through this and be back to my sassy self soon enough. I will go to festivals again and not let you put me off one of the things that brings me joy.

I will get through dreaming that my eyes are being burned with cigarettes.

But until then,

Fuck you.

On Why I Am So Angry About Rachel Dolezal

I am sure you all know the story right? White woman gets an education that was meant to go to a black woman by blacking up.

Kinda like Soul Man but without Thomas C Howell.

And in real life.

She keeps pretending to be black and teaches black studies and tells black women how to do their hair.

Her parents out her as actually being white after a FUCKING DECADE of this shit.

Black Twitter is angry as fuck.

White Twitter talks about Caitlyn Jenner and if 'he can feel like a woman' (vomits) then why can't Rachel 'feel black'.

I am not even making this shit up.

So here are my thoughts, ranty as they may be, on the issue.

First off, and this is really important to remember... CAITLYN JENNER IS A WOMAN. SHE DOESN'T 'FEEL' LIKE A WOMAN, SHE ISN'T 'PRETENDING' TO BE A WOMAN, SHE ISN'T 'ACTING' LIKE A WOMAN. SHE. IS. A. FUCKING. WOMAN.

Dear white people conflating race with gender and making this about a rich white woman. Fuck you.

NO. Put down the transgender issues where it comes to Rachel Dolezal They. Are. Not. The. Same. Thing. NO.

Why so afraid to condemn a white woman that you have to derail and talk about gender assignment? No.

When you say 'I don't see colour' you are denying my heritage to make yourself more comfortable about my oppression. Stop.

I can *kind of* understand why a black woman would try to pass as white to achieve in a system that is inherently racist.

Rachel Dolezal is playing at being me while retaining white privilege because at ANY TIME she can 'revert' to the safer situation. A bit like that Pulp song Common People.

Only in real life.

Am appalled at the amount of people trying ANYTHING to find an excuse for Rachel Dolezal. For crying out loud, this isn't 1970. The Black and White Minstrels are no longer a thing. Blackface. Is. Fucking. OFFENSIVE.

Been nearly a week and I can't quite get my head around the fact that this Rachel Dolezal shit is still going. If she really was black she would be forgotten by now.But you know, it's cool. Lets defend a white woman stealing from black women. Again.

And let's excuse her by saying 'maybe she feels black like trans women feel like women.' Fuck. Off. With. That. Shit.

Trans women *ARE* women. Rachel Dolezal is not black.

See how easy that was? Trans women are women. Rachel Dolezal white, privileged, lying thief. You are welcome.

There are always differences in the narrative where it comes to black women v white women. And it plays into racism, sexism and ableism.

Oh she had mental health issues = white women.I thought the crazy bitch had a gun = black women.Do you see now?

Then there was the kind, enquiring soul who asked 'How black do you have to be to call yourself black anyways?'

WELL NOT BEING WHITE IS A GOOD START.

This whole thing makes me feel sick.

Sick of my heritage being appropriated so that white women 'belong' while they hold their bags tighter near a black man.

Sick of my black sisters being labelled and put into stereotypical boxes to make it easier to steal our culture.

And I am sick of having to explain this over and over and over again to y'all and I have had enough.

If you are trying to find excuses for Rachel Dolezal you are part of the problem.

Fuck you.

On Labels - Guest Post

Another heart stoppingly good post from the author of this awesomeness on the metal community

Content warning: transphobia

“I don’t see why we need labels, we’re all human”.

We’ve all heard it before; the whining voice that seeps out like a sad fart and lingers for too long. I’d like to laugh it off as a hollow statement, but I can’t. I can’t, because I looked closer and saw the terrifying power structures this statement supports and I’m scared and angry.

Most recently, these words were said to me in the context of gender identity, so I’ll focus on that for now.

It’s not surprising that, more often than not, these words are uttered by people who’ve never needed to use labels to talk about their gender. They don’t need labels, so they don’t see why anyone else should need them either. They don’t need labels, because their gender identity is treated as default by society. They don’t need labels, because they can go their whole lives without their gender identity ever becoming a major issue. These words are said in the context of privilege.

I don’t have the privilege of never having my gender questioned. I live on the front line of cissexism. It’s a minefield, and sometimes labels are the only protection I have.

I need labels because I am trying to navigate a world that tells me I’m not real; a world that considers my existence a threat, a nuisance, an anomaly, or a joke at best.

I need labels when strangers point and laugh at me in the street.

I need labels when I hear people whisper “is it a boy or a girl?”

Or when they don’t bother to whisper.

Or when I’m scared of going clothes shopping because of the looks of disapproval I get in either department.

When people use transphobic slurs, to my face.

When people tell me my pronouns are too difficult, and that they’re going to carry on using the wrong ones, intentionally.

When people tell me what name they want to call me, based on what they think is appropriate, rather than what my name is.

When these were people I had considered “friends”.

I need labels, because they allow me to claim back my humanity. Labels help me survive the daily onslaught of transphobia, because they give me dignity. When the world tells me I’m not real, I have a label that tells me I am. When others question the validity of my identity, humiliate me or reduce me to something I’m not, I often believe them. But my labels are still there, like a rock for me to hold onto.

I need labels, because without words to describe myself, I would disappear.

Labels allow my identity to flourish. They allow me to grow into the person I was always meant to be. They empower me with a certainty and confidence that I can use to make a future for myself. They say: I know who I am, and I have a life ahead of me.

How dare you try and take that away from me.

Erica, 19. Likes: Cats, art, cycling, toilet humour. Dislikes: Cheese, underwear, trimming my toenails.