Categotry Archives: media tool kit

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Ticked Off Trans Women Protest “TOTWK”

Categories: media tool kit, the patriarchy: you can't live with it....that is all, the transsexual empire strikes back

So it was a beautiful night for a protest, and thus we had a beautiful protest. Organizer Ashley Love energetically led our band in chants and was everywhere, talking with reporters, handing out fliers, creating some great photo ops like this one:

Later, before a brief vigil we held for the murdered trans people this film so callously exploits, there were several speeches from on top of a box (I’m not sure if it was a soapbox), including yours truly doing my now patented dissection of the ridiculous defenses people have put forward about this movie.

And we even got some press!

NY Times: Transgender Film Draws Protests at Festival Site

The Advocate: Ticked Off [You Knows] Protested

There will probably be another action on the actual premiere of the film.

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I’m An Idiot, But Wikipedia Is Still Sexist

Categories: failings, media tool kit, privilege stories, the patriarchy: you can't live with it....that is all

Well, okay, so ducks, I’m a bit of a silly goose.

As a very helpful commenter pointed out, I’m an idiot without any fact-checking ability because I ran with the front-page article on the English custom of wife selling as if it were a hoax. And it ain’t, more to my chagrin–although I should point out, that when I got off my ass and finally did do the fact-checking, there’s not a whole lot of very credible evidence for it on the free net–a lot of 19th century newspaper articles, and of course the Hardy novel; but one should really not put much credence in 19th century news articles. (It should also be noted that the edit history of the article shows it was written today My mistake, didn’t dig deep enough into the edit history.)

Be that as it may. I won’t even point out that if I got fooled, so did substantial chunks of the internet, most of whom ran with the story as if it were a hoax as well. (It seems that the Wiki tradition is to put slightly misleading headlines on the front page which link to totally legitimate articles. I was not aware; my main experience of April Fool’s day hoaxing are Google’s patently false ones.)

So anyway, I took the post down for a while. Not because I want to run away from being stupid, but because I had some freelance to do today for a tiny amount of money and really didn’t need to get a bunch of emails about how stupid I was. Thanks, got that the first time. And I wanted to fix what I wrote.

And it’s not as if I still don’t have a feminist bone or two to pick with Wikipedia.

Because here’s the deal: of all the articles they could have posted prominently, they posted this one. Now, maybe it says great things about us as a people that we think the concept of selling your wife so outrageous that it could only be a prank. That would be nice to think.

But how much more likely that the folks who organized today’s front page instead thought it would be totes harharhar to lead with an article about how women were property. With fun echoes of how other people were once considered property. And excuse me for being a paranoid lefty, but in today’s climate–when we’re seeing a tremendous backlash against women’s rights (just look at all the anti-abortion laws being passed, the Stupak amendment, the return of an anorexic beauty ideal, etc. etc. etc.) coupled with the steady drumbeat of racism on the rightwing fringe (examples too obvious and numerous to get into)–well, yeah, this whole fiasco troubles me. Quite a bit.

Don’t believe me? Take a look at this:

Would I like to see “wife selling” legalized in America? Nope … it seems like slavery (one person owning another). But I would like to see the modern practice of taking hubby to the cleaners in divorce court ended.

That also seems to be a lot like slavery … or at least it’s like indentured servitude. There’s no moral reason why a hubby should be forced to buy his freedom, any more than there is any moral reason why a hubby should be permitted to sell his soon-to-be ex-wife’s freedom.

Or how it’s the first post in this Straight Dope thread titled “April Fool’s articles I wish were real.”

So yeah: lulz. We’ll drag up one of the most misogynistic things we can find in our database (and yeah, I know all about how it was a way around restrictive divorce laws, and how the women were supposed to not mind–which goes to show you just how low the English opinion of women was back then, and how desperate they could be under the law, not that this was some kind of good thing) and make it our lead post on a day it is guaranteed to be picked up everywhere! And for the true deep lulz, it will actually be true! Hahahaha! Stupid internet! Stupid ladybloggers! (Well, ladyblogger. I seem to be the only one dumb enough to write about it as if it were true.)

I mean, the rest of the articles are all mostly harmless (though somewhat guy oriented, or rather doood oriented: mentioning James Brown–no, not that one, fighter jets, video games, crime, and the hy-larious idea of the city of Halifax having sex with multiple partners. And a monkey.) But the main, featured, excerpted article is about selling women as property.

Okay, fine. I see sexism everywhere. I even flew off the handle about a non-hoax. But you want to know something? There are only two mentions of women on the front page: the wife-selling article…and this ad:

Fat ladies! Is that hilarious or what?

Sheesh.

(Yes, I’ve taken down the original. Yes, it’s in the time machine, I think; it’s probably also on the Facebook page. I’ve got enough going on in my life that I don’t need to have EVERY monument to my foolishness on the homepage of my blog.)

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David Brooks: What Price Happiness? (Hint: Ladies, Keep Your Man!)

Categories: (un)popular entertainment, double bound, i heart oppression, internuts, kyriarchy, media tool kit, privilege stories, the patriarchy: you can't live with it....that is all

I haven’t played kick the can–where can means the New York Times–for a while, mostly because it’s too easy: the stolid Grey Lady’s inability to cover issues beyond it’s narrow frame of all the news white, middle-class, male America finds worthy to think about is a cliche at this point. I mean, for goodness sake, their lead writer on women’s rights is a dude! (Not to knock Nick Kristoff–keep up the good work!–but still.)

Truth be told, I only scan the headlines and drop in to read Krugman and Rich when they’re up. I don’t usually bother to read the rest of the columnists, and certainly not perpetual anal-cranial inversion artist Ross Douthat or David “Bobo” Brooks, master of somehow finding the tone your clueless, warm-n-fuzzy conservative uncle might strike–somewhere between concern trolling and reminding you that if you just wore lipstick more often, you’d find a nice fella.

But every now and then, I drop in on what he says, either because I’ve been referred there or because for some reason the headline writer is earning her or his pay this week by getting me to read something I ordinarily wouldn’t. Take today’s headline: The Bullock Trade. (It actually is “The Sandra Bullock Trade,” but it was truncated in the little upper-righthand corner area the Times puts it’s op-ed links.) Now, I was intrigued, both by the possibility that Brooks was branching out–bullocks could mean anything from modern Hindu religion to the sacrifices of the ancient Minoans–or by seeing what behavior by Ms. Bullock Brooks was disapproving of.

Because I’ve read him before, and I knew that there was no way he’d be in favor of her doing anything except marrying a Republican Senator.

But whoo boy, was this a piece of work:

Continue reading →

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Later That Same Evening

Categories: media tool kit, privilege stories

I’m not much for the late night talk shows–I don’t even watch Jon Stewart when he comes on, preferring to let my DVR work its magic. (Not to mention that there have been more occasions than I care to discuss where Jon was–there’s no gentle way to say this–a bit of a douche.)

So I really haven’t cared too much about the Leno-O’Brien freeforall on NBC; I have better things to worry about than which middle-aged white guy is going to bore me at 11:35 PM. I haven’t watched Conan O’Brien since I was in college, and Letterman since I was in high school–and the odd times I have caught Dave since then have just proved that what played well to my 15-year old, kinda-sorta guy self is pretty crappy nowadays.

And as for Leno, his show has always been an unwatchable piece of trash–he turned hard into the gutter back in 1995 with the Lance Ito dancers and has gleefully wallowed there ever since.

But one thing that I have noticed about this whole fiasco is how often the principals have descended to lady-hating and other associated misogynies. I said noticed, not “surprised at”: Leno has frequently been a public prick about women, and Dave…well, Dave built a frakking bedroom over his set so that he could not-quite coerce his not-quite interns with not-quite threats about very, very realistically killing any chance of a career in the business.

So no surprise as well, as Liss noted, that Leno is a contemptible misogynistic jerk:

He takes a swipe at Letterman’s marriage that, in trying to hit Letterman, sprays collateral buckshot all over Regina Lasko, who is married to Letterman. And that’s not a bug of the joke; it’s a feature. Leno’s the kind of nasty bully who will take aim at another guy in a way that hits his wife, too.

It’s a construction that treats Lasko like Letterman’s property, which is why this jibe has the same cowardly feel as a guy who keys another guy’s car in the dark parking lot of a bar, instead of taking a swing at him.

 But wait! It’s not just the principals in this mess, it’s also the feakin’ commentators:

Now, Seth Myers has always been pretty douchetastic; it’s his shtick, and it has been ever since he started co-hosting Weekend Update with Amy Poehler. But for fuck’s sake, comparing hosting a TV show to being married to a woman, and the process of changing hosts to divorce…and…and…the whole way it just assumes that women are commodities to be traded, is special even for him, and a further sign of SNL’s two-decade decline into pointless wankitude. To think: this was the show that started out with Jane Curtin, Gilda Radner, and Laraine Newman, launched the career of Julia Sweeney, and gave as Tina Fey as well as the aforementioned Amy…well, sigh.

Of course, it’s a woman’s fault to begin with, because a woman fucked up the Tonight Show 17 years ago.

That woman was the late Helen Kushnick, the woman who had discovered Leno, served as his manager and personal friend for his entire career, and engineered his takeover of Johnny Carson’s well worn seat. And right away there were nasty stories about her: she was most notorious for her vindictive policies of shitlisting guests who had dared to appear on Arsenio instead of The Tonight Show. NBC, tired of her bullying ways, fired her after a few months of heading up the gabfest, and Leno sadly had to let his friend go before she destroyed the career she had built.

Or wait! Maybe that’s not what happened, mostly because Leno is a huge douche and misogyny is a recreational sport in Hollywood. To wit, from a 1996 EW profile:

Kushnick’s story is well-known to those who follow the late-night TV wars. She was portrayed as an abusive tyrant in The Late Shift, Bill Carter’s 1994 book about Leno and Letterman, and in last February’s HBO movie; and the image was no exaggeration. In the end, many who had been her supporters, like former client Jimmie Walker, and even NBC executives, found her impossible to deal with. Her stepdaughter, Beth Kushnick, 35, still calls her a ”ghastly monster.” Even her only sibling, Joseph Gorman, 48, had been estranged from her until shortly before her death at age 51.

But what is not so well-known is the story of Kushnick’s final years — years spent out of the media eye, years that ended in a kind of redemption and, for her daughter, Sara, 16, in a reconciliation with Leno. ”Maybe she did have to be a bitch to get where she did,” says Sara, Sam’s surviving twin. ”But when she started out, women were supposed to be secretaries. She did things with anger because it was the only way she knew how.”

”They called her a bitch,” says Mitzi Shore, owner of L.A.’s Comedy Store, ”but if she were a man, she wouldn’t be called a bitch. There are managers in town who are 10 times worse than she was and they don’t call them bastards.”

 And if you needed any more confirmation about Leno’s jerkiness, consider this from the same piece, about  Kushnick’s daughter:

She grew up with Leno, called him Uncle Jay, considered his parents her grandparents. ”He came over for dinner the weekend after my mom got fired,” she says. ”We had chicken wings — we always had chicken wings. I sat on his lap and he said everything would be okay. That was the last time I saw him.”

 And there’s another way to look at the Kushnick story, as Rudy Panucci explains in a sweetly vitriolic piece on the whole late night mess:

Kushnick was dying of cancer while Leno was explaining that he had to fire her and ban her from the studio lot because he was shocked, shocked, to discover that she had lied to him about planting the rumors that hounded Carson into early retirement. The truth is, Leno threw his long-time manager and personal friend under the bus when it became clear that The Tonight Show with Jay Leno was a poorly-produced, barely-watchable disaster. After eighteen months of coming in second to Letterman, even though NBC had a strong prime-time line-up, Leno’s manager took the fall, and then the large-chinned wonder let NBC revamp the show to rescue it from cancellation.

So there you have it, folks–the kyriarchy in a nutshell, brought to you by a bunch of rich white guys who are barely even funny. I think I’ll just go to bed early.

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And Other Stories in Transphobia (Yawn)

Categories: don't get your panties in a bunch, media tool kit, silly blather, teh tranz

Hey, I haven’t said anything about David Letterman yet!

I mean, not that there’s often much to say about David Letterman, besides he’s mostly a jerk. It’s, you know, what he’s famous for.

But I guess you might have heard about this…

Yeah. OK. Wow, a show hosted by a known jerk (of the douchey, cheating on his wife with interns in a bedroom he had built at the studio just for that purpose kind of way) engages in some cheap-shot transphobia. Yawn. Hand me the remote…

But what’s that you say? Speak up, Straw-Reader-I-am-making-up-for-this-piece! Are you saying that Dave at least sort of respectable towards Ms. Sampson? And that the joke is really on sidekick douchebag Kalter? That I should not, you know, get my panties all in a twist about things, you hysterical trann–sorry, you like to be called a transgenderdamajig now, right?

Sorry, Straw Reader, you’re wrong! A transgendamajig is a drink, not a gender identity, one of the many fascinating cocktails I dreamed up while vacationing on painkillers in Thailand! But you’re also wrong about the joke.

Sure, true to his straightdouche persona, Dave didn’t say anything spiteful about Ms. Sanders. (He also called her a transgendered person, not woman. Asshole.) But the joke wasn’t on Kalter–it was decidedly on Ms. Sampson.

Because, you see, at heart this was a gay joke. (Amazing! Letterman homophobic too? Whodathunkit?) Kalter is upset because he slept with a “man,” not a transgendered woman. At heart, this bit was calling Ms. Sanders a man.

Which is pretty much the definition of transphobia.

I of course, don’t watch any of the talk shows myself–I really could care less about the latest vapid anecdote or stupid plug a celebrity comes on to talk about. (And even The Daily Show is wearing thin on me these days.) Instead, when not reading Russian novels in French or French movies in Russian, I watch Monty Python reruns. Because our world is so surreal nowadays that they seem positively normal.

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Your RDA of Internalized Misogyny

Categories: media tool kit, your rda of misogyny

I don’t always follow the Daily Show anymore; there are days when it seems like Jon Stewart has kicked all the lady writers out of the room and lets his dudebros handle all the jokes. But last night’s segment on Gretchen Carlson was fantastic:

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart Mon – Thurs 11p / 10c
Gretchen Carlson Dumbs Down
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show
Full Episodes
Political Humor Health Care Crisis

If you had doubts about the misogyny of the right wing, the media, and especially the right wing media: put them to rest.

What on earth does it say about this woman’s political beliefs that she purposely makes herself look less intelligent in order to be able to speak about them? (Of course, according to Wikipedia her nanny growing up was Michelle Bachmann, so…) And in case you just think that’s broadcasting, don’t forget that many of her colleagues regularly strut out how smart they are–frequent commentator Karl Rove is admired for his genius, for example–but Ms. Carlson has to pretend to have never accomplished anything intellectual before. Now, maybe that’s okay for Michelle Bachmann, who genuinely hasn’t done anything noteworthy with her brain; but for goodness’ sake, studying at Stanford and Oxford doesn’t just happen; neither does playing classical music solos on the violin. Yet one cannot help but feel that the most important qualification for her job–at least in the minds of the heads of the network–was her Miss America title, not her degrees.

But why? Why can’t she be smart and beautiful? (And conservative. It’s a free country, mostly.) Even if she’s the host of a morning show? What on earth is so awful about a woman who can think–what is so terrible that she purposely hides it?

Yes, I know. The kyriarchy. Still, funny how that thing can bite you even when you’re not looking.

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Hobbyhorses

Categories: jay smooth tells it like it T-I-S, media tool kit, politicians have penises

Here’s a quick duck-in to discuss some hobbyhorses of mine–the Polanski debacle, and the Senate filibuster rules! (What, you didn’t know I have an obsession with that? Good thing most of you haven’t met me in person, I natter on about them a lot.)

First, Jay Smooth does an amazing take down of all the arguments people have been throwing around about why Rapin’ Roman should go free or something:

Like a lot of people, I always like Jay Smooth, but that was teh awesome.

(h/t to the fabulous Lena D.)

Next, here’s a nifty piece from Gail Collins and everyone’s favorite muddle-headed voice of conservative received wisdom, David Brooks, where they talk about the House’s recent health care bill. Gail voices one of my particular frustrations with the Senate’s arcane rules:

We used to think of the filibuster as a dramatic, once-in-a-blue-moon vehicle that was used only in extreme circumstances, like Jimmy Stewart in “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington.” (What I like about that movie, in retrospect, is that Stewart was not standing there, holding the floor all by himself for hour after hour until he collapsed from exhaustion, in order to save puppies or fight unemployment. It was because the evil Claude Rains was trying to destroy his career, and Jimmy had to prove that he was as saintly as ever. It was all about him. So very Senate like.) Or, of course, when the Southerners wanted to stop civil rights legislation.

But now, a minority of senators don’t have to bother to actually keep talking, or take turns talking, or even hang around the chambers to bring progress to a screeching halt. They just declare their intention (it’s the thought that counts) and nothing can go forward without 60 votes.

That’s crazy. If we’re going to have this system, the filibuster should be reserved for matters that can’t be undone later, like important judicial nominations. Or wars. Not normal domestic policy, no matter how large.

 I so 100% agree with that. It would be a will of the people moment–if you’ve judged opinion correctly, then people will support your principled stand against oppressive legislation; otherwise, they’ll think you’re a bunch of obstructionist clowns.

Honestly, I can’t see why the Democrats wouldn’t go for this–can you imagine the glee in Chuck Shumer’s face as he goes on talk show after talk show to run the same damn clip of Orrin Hatch reading the AMA membership lists into the Congressional Record? It would be great.

Gail then goes on to attack Joe Lieberman, which is always good fun. She doesn’t, however, mention the single largest problem with the health care bills: the evil Stupak-Pitts amendment, the greatest rollback in women’s health and reproductive rights in over a quarter of a century, and something Ms. Collins might presumably be interested in.

Unless, of course, she thinks it’s just “politics” instead of “fundamental rights.”

Or maybe she was afraid of offending Bobo’s delicate sensibilities. WEV.

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Monday Media Watch, Edizione Internazionale

Categories: douchebaggery, media tool kit, politicians have penises

O HAI AGAIN, DUCKS! And yes, this really is a Monday Media Watch–I get in just under the wire by virtue of being in California.And being in California, I decided to put aside my usual Monday Media Watch sparring opponent–the New York Times–and try one of the local papers for a change.

So today’s target: The San Francisco Comical, er, Chronicle, and specifically this article on Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi! Take it away, Joel Brinkley:

So Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi is shaming his nation. That’s what pundits and commentators are saying as the Italian courts pursue charges of bribery, corruption and tax evasion. But by far the most visible allegations revolve around his sexual escapades.

But before we all clamber aboard that bandwagon, is it possible we misunderstand?

 Hey, that is one promising start, Mr. Brinkley–because certainly lady people have noticed a disturbing trend to judge us by our sexual escapades rather than the substance of our scandals! In fact, we often get judged on our “sexual escapades” in the absence of any other “scandal”! Let’s take a look at Mr. Berlusconi’s issues:

After all, as the prime minister explained at a recent news conference, “to my male colleagues present here I say: Raise your hand and tell me you don’t think it’s nice to rest your eyes on pleasant and enjoyable feminine presences – rather than sitting at a table with people lacking aesthetic qualities.”

Oh. I see. I think I can diagnose these difficulties. He’s a douche.

Now, “pleasant and enjoyable feminine presences” by its very nature is enough to make me do a Radfem Stomp. But for the sake of my blood pressure, and the possible edification of a dudebro who stumbles upon this site, let’s unpack that: first, only feminine presences are pleasant and enjoyable–this comes as a surprise not only to big ol’ bisexual me, who has been known to find masculine presences both pleasant and mm-hmm-hmm enjoyable, but it also pretends that there are no men who might agree with Your Duckmistress about said pleasant and enjoyable masculinities.

But let’s dig, Starbuck, to the little lower layer: you can’t just utter a sentence like that without it seeping context. And the context for it is that for men in power, women have far too long been seen only as, well, pleasant decoration and the occasional useful sex object. One would presume, just from his saying such an asinine thing, that a room with Chancellor Merkel, Baroness Thatcher, Secretary Clinton, and Secretary Albright would not be one of “pleasant and enjoyable” presences, despite all the named presences being female. So to sum up, on the Berlusconi scorecard of douchiness:

Female Heterosexual Desire…………………………………………….Inconsequential
Male Homosexual Desire………………………………………………..Invisible
“Plesant and Enjoyable” Males…………………………………………Ignorable
Women Who Aren’t “Pleasant and Enjoyable”
by virtue of Silvio’s Lust………………………………………………….Inconceivable

Okay, I know what you’re saying: I’m making some leaps of logic here. Maybe his (very debatable) Excellency isn’t a douchebag–maybe he’s just a man of his time, well-meaning but saying douchey stuff. Allowances should be made, etc. And maybe you’re right; maybe I haven’t given him a fair shake…

Certainly that must be why he showed up at 18-year-old Noemi Letizia’s birthday party last spring. It’s probably a coincidence that Letizia, a model, poses for provocative photos in her underwear. That couldn’t have been why he gave her a nice birthday present, a gold necklace worth about $10,000.

Berlusconi’s wife was angry. She left him, saying his visit to the birthday party “really surprised me because he has never come to the 18th birthday parties of any of our three children, despite being invited.”

Come, now. Berlusconi is the prime minister of Italy. He has a busy schedule. Even a young Noemi Letizia understands that. “I am in awe of him,” she told an interviewer. “He calls me, and I go to him.” But only “if he has time.”

 Right. Well-meaning guy who can make time for underwear models but not his own children…como si dice “douchebag” in italiano?

But let’s not stop at Italian heads of state–there’s plenty of members of the doucheoisie right here at home!

For example, two newspapers, Corriere della Sera and La Stampa, recently reported that [businessman Giampaolo] Tarantini told police he lined up 30 women for Berlusconi and his friends, “if the need arose,” and brought them to 18 parties in Berlusconi’s homes in Rome and Sardinia in 2008 and 2009.

“I wanted to meet Premier Berlusconi, and to that end I spent a lot to get into contact with him, knowing his taste for women,” Tarantini told the papers. “I merely accompanied to his house young women who I introduced as my friends while keeping quiet about the fact that I sometimes paid them.”

You’d assume that all of the press coverage, all of that back-room business, would spell Berlusconi’s political demise. Think of Gov. Mark Sanford of South Carolina and Sen. John Ensign of Nevada, both of whom are accused of covering up extramarital affairs. The South Carolina legislature is considering impeachment, and Ensign’s re-election prospects in 2012 appear to be slim.

What about Berlusconi? Do we misunderstand? If the public opinion polls are an indicator, we do. His popularity among Italians, in recent polls, stands at 63 percent – a figure any chief of state would envy.

What do Italians know that we don’t?

Well, Joel, first off, maybe Americans do know something about this–President Clinton had approval ratings at or near the 60% range all during l’affaire Lewinsky. And you conveniently ignore the fact that in the case of Urbin and Sanford, a huge part of the scandal is the hypocrisy of a candidate who deliberately cultivates an image of being squeaky clean and virginal (outside the God-sanctioned marriage bed) being caught metaphorically with their trousers down. Neither Berlusconi nor Clinton built their image around their presumed superior morals, and more importantly neither routinely made political hay out of condemning other people for their presumed moral failings.

And of course the article ignores, or minimizes, the fact that Berlusconi is the richest man in Italy, someone who routinely throws bushels of money into his various political campaigns (he owns his own political party) and has been mired in controversy, legal actions, and charges of criminality pretty much from the inception of his political career. With Berlusconi, his sexist actions are just the tip of the iceberg. Which could have been an interesting jumping off point for an article that might look at how hidebound belief in personal superiority (such as sexism) might also be revealed in other aspects of someone’s personal dealings (such as rampant corruption from within the government.) But that wouldn’t be as fun to write as a “Europe good sexy fun, America evil Puritanical morals police” article, which continues to get written whenever any scandal remotely sniffing of sex heaves into view–witness how often people have taken this precise tack over the Polansky arrest, even when European opinion is hardly neither uniform nor even close to the perception of the writer.
And besides–writing about how a European leader who is both sexist and corrupt, and whose sexism reveals things about his corruption, might force you to consider the same things about American leaders–and then who would invite you to the cool parties, or give you op-eds in local papers?

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Monster Rat: A Gallery of the Rape Culture

Categories: douchebaggery, hiram monserrate watch, media tool kit, politicians have penises, your rda of misogyny, Your RDA of Outrage

Hiram Monserrate is a douchebag.

Need proof? Consider the lovely legislative record of the freshman NYS senator: he not once, but twice threatened to caucus against his own party–which for the first time in over 40 years was in control of the upper house of the New York State legislature and had an ambitious progressive and reform agenda, including legalizing gay marriage–making good on his threat the second time and throwing the entire state government into chaos (and costing the taxpayers billions of dollars.) And both times, he couldn’t even stand steadfast to his own dirtbag principles (well, except the most important: look out for Hiram first)–he turned coat on his turncoat companions and slunk back to the Democrats.

And that’s not even what earned him his nickname: Monster Rat.

That comes as a result of the “incident” of December 19th, 2009. Monserrate brought his girlfriend, Karla Giraldo, to an emergency room over a half hour from his apartment. She had been slashed down to the bone by a broken glass. Monserrate claimed he had tripped in a darkened room and accidentally smashed the glass into her face. Giraldo disagreed, although she would later recant and say that his version was correct. But that night she called him “crazy” and said, “I can’t believe he did this to me!”

It seems that he had been driven into a jealous rage by finding another man’s business card in her purse. A security camera would later show images of him beating her in the hallway, dragging her by her hair. She tried to get away from him but nobody opened their door.

He was indicted, but once Giraldo changed her story, it proved impossible to convict him of anything but misdemeanor assault.

Now, I can leave it there: yet another case of a powerful man using his privilege to abuse a woman and get away with it–as Joanna Molloy did in the New York Daily News:

In the hallway after the verdict, women in jeans and lawyers’ suits clustered in groups and shook their heads. “This sets women’s rights back a long time,” said one female court officer.

Forgive us if we find the couple’s story the most incredible coincidence since Thomas Jefferson and John Adams died on the same Fourth of July.

Erlbaum did find Monserrate – who courthouse wags have been calling Monster Rat – guilty of reckless assault, for forcibly dragging Giraldo out of the apartment in a scene caught on videotape.

It’s a misdemeanor, so Monserrate gets to keep his job in Albany.

So for your enjoyment (read: rage), here is a gallery of Bramhall’s cartoons, which are disturbing and triggering enough that (in a Second Awakening first) I present them after the jump.


A Gallery of the Damned

Politics
Most often, Bramhall used Monserrate’s image as a commentary on politics, albeit one divorced completely from anything having to do with women’s politics:

Don’t you just love the terrified woman in that last cartoon? Way to exhibit sensitivity as well as your usual perspicacity, Bill!

The Cartoonist’s Chore

A few times, Bramhall includes an image of Monserrate in cartoons commenting about how hard/easy it is for him to do his job, i.e. come up with cartoons:

Almost, But Not Quite

Once or twice, Bramhall almost shows some sensitivity to the underlying issue of violence towards women–but then as usual completely smothers that in a smug blanket of privileged fuckery that uses images of that violence to make a crude joke:

The Big Finish

This last cartoon ran during the height of the Senate leadership crisis. It is so full of douchebaggery and misogynistic imagery that it practically makes up its own genre: douchedy, maybe, or WTF-tire.

For those uninitiated into New York State politics: in addition to Senator Douche, you can see former New York Governor Eliot Spitzer (presumably with a prostitute) at upper center, and in a nice homophobic touch former Senate Majority Leader Malcolm Smith dressed in the little Lord Faunteleroy outfit. The horse’s ass at lower right is Assembly leader Shel Silver (and an assessment of his character I tend to agree with.)

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Today in Tales From the Douchoisie

Categories: douchebaggery, media tool kit, your rda of misogyny

Hello, Ducks! Can you guess what Google Reader threw up in my lap today? Did you guess Tucker Max? I didn’t, which I guess is what makes it sexy…or something; I’m not up on my fratire. But let’s check in, courtesy of The Frisky

Oh, what? The fratire thing?

The Frisky: Gawker deemed you a “ham-fisted frat s***.” The feminist bloggers hate you. You’ve been called a “professional sexist,” “anti-feminist,” and a “promoter of rape culture.” The New York Times labeled your prose “fratire.”

TM: Hold on now. The New York Times was not insulting me when they called my writing “fratire.” In fact, they said I invented a new literary genre, one that defines a whole new generation of writers and readers. How is that an insult?

Yes, the brave new world of Two and a Half Men, Maxim, and Ketel One ads:

I think that this isn’t exactly a new genre…unless you think that the needs, feelings, and emotions of young white dudes has been an underserved artistic destination for these last, um, 2,000 years.

Sigh. On y va

The Frisky: Are you a “misogynist”?

TM: Complete bulls**t. A misogynist is someone who hates women. I love women. Everything I do is to impress women. Without women, I wouldn’t get out of bed in the morning. Plus, half my fans are women. The people who call me misogynist are the ones who haven’t read or engaged my writing, and are just looking for a bogeyman to attack.

The Frisky: In your stories, women throw themselves at you. How many women have you slept with, and what advice do you give men on women?

TM: I have no idea how many women I’ve slept with. Probably more than 300, probably less than 600? I don’t keep count, because that would be super creepy.

Some women absolutely do throw themselves at me. I think part of it is that there are always some women that are into rich, famous, and powerful men. Then there is the artist aspect. Half my fans are women, and they are fans because they love my writing. There is the masculine thing; I am one of the few people in media who is unapologetically masculine, and that’s very attractive to some women.

You know? He’s not a misogynist. Just a narcissist living in his own, private world where women flock to him to give him blowjobs, sexy girls (the only real girls: see Amanda Hess’ brilliant “Anatomy of a Tucker Max Joke“) never think he’s being insulting to him, and “I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell” is…

…an awesome and groundbreaking movie, and great art always finds its way.

Box Office total, after two weeks: $960,425.

But wait! Ol’ Tuck has an excuse for that!

It may not hit at the theater, but it will hit on DVD, and hit big.

Yeah, you and Joe Francis, amigo. Funny the company you keep.

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