Bad, bad feminist…

Oh chill the fuck out, I’m talking about myself, and shit, I’m an expatriate. For a lot of reasons. A big one being waiting around to hear about ‘The Plan”, part o’ the revolution and all, that no one is willing to discuss, and hearing about how grand and awesome the world will be when there is no sex industry.

And no choice for people who, oh, want to do that for a living. And oh yeah, having every bit of input offered on activism, advocacy, help, ideas, strategies, programs for people who want out that is put forth, by, oh, actual sex workers snubbed, slighted, mocked, made light of by some feminists, some of whom, well, have never actually ever been in the business. Because you know, that is so helpful, ignoring all that while drawing up plans for the end of the sex industry and the great revolution…whatever those might be, and whenever that might happen. For our own good.

So yes, I had to look at priorities and all. And yep, sure enough, things like, oh, a NY cop forcing a 13 year old to hook, and democrats moving for a ban on abstinence only sex-ed and an increase in spending on AIDS prevention, a groundbreaking case in New Zealand, Virginia lobbying for more HIV and AIDS prevention education, Sex Worker Art Shows actually happening, assholes armed with cameras harassing, stalking, and assaulting prostitutes, sex workers being dehumanized and infantilized by supposed allies, a Judge calling a rape a theft of services…and let's not forget sex education, well, these things rate more important in my book than, oh, that amazing future with no sex industry and the warmth of the enlightened sisterhood. And heels, lipstick, slutty clothes, diets, America’s Next Top Model, raunch culture, my actual amount of empowerment/empaycheckedness in my chosen profession, and yeah, fake tits have little to do with that.

Perhaps some people need to examine.

So long as people like these folks (nsfw), paid anti-sexwork academic guns for hire and shock artists, can receive more praise, gain more press, get more clout and receive more government funding while engaging in skewed, stolen and sketchy research, dismissing and using the images (nsfw) of the very people they claim to care about without their consent, proof of age, or feelings on the matter rather than, oh, an actual variety, the full spectrum, of sex workers, so long as “90%”, no matter how many times it is proven to be false, can be a battle cry, I’m sorry, my interests will rest with the people rather than the paid anti porn propagandists.

Why? Well, because these are people like me. If that makes me a shit feminist, or expat, or whatever the hell else, so be it. I’m not willing to see these people sacrificed on a moral right sword, a government sword, or the sword of a feminist “plan for elimination of the sex industry”. These are people in the here and now. These are people, young, old, every color, hetero, gay, bi, cis, trans, living in the here and now. Living in places where the fear of cops is an every day thing. Where the fear of assault & rape is an every day thing. Where the fear of murder is an every day thing. Where the fear of disease is an every day thing. Whether we are in it by choice or not. Where we pray our test results come back clean, or at least “minus the big one”. Where often the rest of the world looks at us like we are less than dirt. Where we live in terror of parents, friends, family, society finding out what we do. Where our lives aren’t as important. Where we are blamed for rape, and making other women look bad, and making men do horrible things…even, especially, the most privileged among us. Where in a future(?) sort of feminist world, we will have no choice, and in the feminist right here and now, there are massive, underhanded attempts to silence our voices. Because we don’t matter. What we do doesn’t matter. It’s just not good or feminist enough.

Fine, so be it. Fuck that sort of feminism, then. I want none of it. You don’t speak for me, or them, really. You don’t even often hear them, unless they sing the exact perfect tune.

Feminism, so big and political and cliquish and broken. Some days, I still feel ya.

But right now, I am way more about my sisters and brothers, in the here and now, in the really real world. Where we live in fear of AIDS, rape and having no legal recourse, and still are not good enough to hear the plan. Guess we have to use our own. I guess we deserve it.

I know where my priorities, and loyalties, rest.