Thursday, August 31, 2006

 
Here is a comment I wrote on Pandagon. Not sure if it's at all significant but I kind of dug it. It was fun to write. I thought I'd share:

from The Quotable Delphyne:

"“Radical” in radical feminism means going to to the root i.e. examining the roots of women’s oppression - male supremacy."

But disagreement about the nature of those roots shouldn't knock a girl out of the radical feminist tree, and too frequently it does just that.

I mean, to stretch a metaphor from the sublime to the ridiculous - is the root a taproot, long and solid and singular like a dandelion's? is it a great spreading network like an oak's? a tangled mat like grass?

What if we assemble an army of women, all armed to the teeth with shovels and rakes and implements of destruction of all sorts, from silver spoons to jackhammers to dynamite to clamshells, everyone bringing the very best, sharpest, diggingest tool they can get their hands on, and get all psyched up to attack the root, dig it up, yank it out, annihilate it -

"Excuse me, your jackhammer is really noisy and the exhaust is killing those other plants."

"WHAT? WHAT? I CAN'T HEAR YOU! I'M OPERATING A JACKHAMMER!"

"Had you considered what that dynamite will do to the endangered Hubblebank's Spotted Parakeet population?"

"Look - do you want this root out or not?"

"Hey! Get your shovel off my foot!"

"Oh, don't be such a baby. Get your foot out of my way!"

"say, what's gonna happen when those roots die and this tree falls down on our heads?"

"tree? what tree? we're not uprooting that tree - we're uprooting these vines! what are you wasting your time uprooting a tree for? jeez that's stupid..."

"I don't know; I thought we were working on that tree too..."

"oh, yeah, like you'd know what you were doing with that stupid silver spoon."

"It was good enough for my grandmother..."

"your grandmother stole it from my grandmother. that's why I'm digging with this plastic spork >sigh<"

"dude, you stepped on my clamshell!"

etc. ad naus.

And what if the really crazy thing is that if we all just put down our tools, grabbed the thing and pulled real hard on the count of three, maybe it would just surrender itself from the earth and we'd all go sprawling and tumbling in a big sweaty heap, and then we could all go home.

Ok - clearly that got out of hand. But it's not useful to ignore the fact that there is NO CONSENSUS as to what constitutes the roots of male supremacy, such as exists.

Comments:
I love this analogy!
 
oh, thanks, amber!

it could go on forever.
 
I'm with you on all of that and it was a treat to read. ~a third generation spork girl
 
sporker with clamshell aspirations, here.
 
B\L: Totally off subject, but compelled to relate. Take a NE grown girl and put her in San Antonio for six months. 'Hills' are bumps, 'trees' are sticks and infrequent if that, and the only body of water is channeled through a downtown shopping-tourist district. I got toxic shock syndrome from it. Must love dirt.
 
AP - I wanted to put this in a post up at the top, so that if others saw it they might feel compelled to participate ;) So, sorry that it is VERY off-topic!

I promised a post where you could try and identify TEH MENZ and TEH WOMENZ? Here it is. :)
 
alex - that post you link to is awesome.

I will totally take the quiz sometime when my head isn't trying to split itself apart.
 
antip: another headache? :-( are you okay? *worries*
 
fear not. It's just a headache.

we'll know more about the brain cloud when I go back to the doctor on the 18th. But it's looking like it was a weird little stroke.

crazy, huh?

But that's not important. what's important is why nobody wants to speak for Hubblebank's Spotted Parakeet.
 
TOO BUSY TRYING NOT TO KILL MYSELF WITH THIS JACKHAMMER. SORRY!
 
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