Amazonism.
“My code is Amazonism. I want weapons”. — Camille Paglia
I got in a little bit of a dust-up on Twitter the other day. Actually, that’s not entirely accurate. I logged onto social media in a foul mood, saw a outrageously annoying tweet by Joss Whedon, noted misogynist and general asshole, and retweeted it with my own colorful commentary. Within about a minute, my account was restricted.
For the record, I do not make a habit of getting stuck in social media jail, being a grown up and everything, but some things get to me, regardless of my efforts to view Twitter as a tool, not a nostalgic visit of the cliques of my misspent youth. One of the things I find hardest to ignore is pandering condescension from “male feminists.” If feminism is about equality, and mansplaining is a sin, why should I be comfortable with a man speaking for women simply because he claims to be on our “side”?
For, as we have seen, Joss Whedon is not on any woman's side. He has a long record of saying the “right" thing and doing the opposite.
I find his dogged attempts to regain his “woke ally" status to be disturbingly cynical or completely delusional. I don't know which is more appropriate in this scenario. It's insulting, regardless. If he were an actual feminist, he’d know that we don’t need him or any other man “standing up" for us. We aren’t characters in his shows and movies, shattered and starving but inexplicably able to kick ass, only to have men either save us in the end, or be our undoing.
Amazonism
Here’s the thing: I’m of the mindset expressed so beautifully by one of my personal heroes, Camille Paglia, in the quote above. My code is indeed Amazonism, and I don’t want male feminist “allies.” I want weapons. I have weapons, metaphorically speaking.
I’ve fought for myself since I was very young, having learned that not all of those tasked with protecting me were up to the job. I don’t need men to advocate for me, because I advocate for myself. The only person responsible for me is me. I refuse to be lumped in with the whiny, perpetual victims of third wave feminism, the women who are overcome with fear at the mere thought of natural masculinity, who believe that language can be violent, and who seem to think that hiring a less-qualified woman simply because she is a woman is some sort of victory. I don’t vote with my vagina, weirdos.
I don’t want “woke" allies, I want real allies, the kind who have my back and aren’t playing a long game to get me in the sack by showing their “sensitive side.” (Although, as Ann Althouse noticed years ago, that might not be a successful strategy for them.)
Men who are confident and comfortable with the knowledge that I can fight my own battles, but can be relied upon if need be. Like a team or something, not opposing forces. A natural relationship between sexes, not a subversion of the existing biological order.
There is nothing toxic about biological masculinity, but the wheedling pandering of the modern “male feminist" is absolutely toxic. Since the advent of the #MeToo movement, these woke allies have been exposed time and again as wolves in sheep’s clothing, predators who use placating language to cynically disarm and use women, betraying their trust. We don’t need these “men.” We don’t want them on our side.
At least I don’t.
Related:
