Tag Archives: link

Indulgence

Poking around an aquaintance’s website, I find a link to Torn Curtains. I’m still trying to make my mind up about this sort of thing – is it an excuse for some angsty teens and twentysomethings who ought to know better to talk self-indulgently about themselves, or is it an interesting look into the minds of other people?

Which of course leads us into the debate about the value of on-line journals. Given that these are clearly written to be viewed by other people, how far can they be trusted? I mean, I know I don’t admit to a fair number of things here that I might do in a private journal. And y’know, if I’m going to censor myself like that, then don’t I have some sort of responsibility to those that do read it not to vanish up my own arse in self-aggrandising “see how deep I am for answering these meaningful questions?” Some obligation to actually be entertaining?

I might continue this later, but right now, I’m leaving work, so I’ll just post this and think some more…

This Feeling Doesn’t Get Better With Time

So, I was reading the new issue of Sequential Tart like a good little monkey, when I came across this article. Go and read it. Now.

I’m still wondering how to react to this article. Frightening, isn’t it? I was going to mail Andrea, who’ve I’ve met a few times, and find intelligent, attractive and generally pleasant company, but then I realised that I didn’t have anything to say. What can you say in response to it? I mean, I’m not going to apologise for them, as it’s not my place to do so, and frankly, I can’t think of any way to apologise for disgusting freaks like that. “You’d ride it, but you wouldn’t want to show it’s face to your mates” is the phrase she picks out, and it really is one of the most nauseating things I’ve ever heard. I could mail her and say that no, in my experience all men do not think like that. I’m fairly confident that no-one I know thinks like that. (If you know me, and you do, then please don’t tell me, and further, never speak to me again.)

I could mail her and say that there are bound to be people out there that would have spoken up, but I think the honest truth is that, no, nine out of ten people would not, unless they were with a woman who was being made deeply uncomfortable in that way. Perhaps that can be written off to British reserve, or even the simple fear of getting a slapping, but I’m not really sure that’s an excuse. For those keeping score: yes, I include myself in that nine out ten. I’m not proud of it, and would like to claim that I would speak up, but I’m not going to lie about it – I probably wouldn’t even register that someone I didn’t know was being made uncomfortable by it. I’d be angered by it, but would probably just retreat to my book. I’m not even sure what I’d do if I was with a woman who was being upset by it. I hope I’d do something.

But as she says, how would she know I was telling the truth? I mean, clearly, there are things out there that do think like that. Hell, if I think about it, most of the women I know probably have similar stories about an encounter with some form of sub-human like that pair she describes.

What’s the point of all this? I don’t really know. I’m just trying to feel around my reaction to the piece. I don’t think the level of suspicion toward men is merited, but I have the key advantange of being a man, and some idea of how men think. But it’s all too easy to see how one could get that suspicious. All too easy.

Ah, fuck it. I hate everybody. Genocide, that’s the answer.