Most. Awesome. Comment. Ever.

rachelcervantes, who has been watching the current BDSM-and-feminism kerfuffle and thoughtfully examining her own feelings about it, had this to say over at Ren's recently.

Some members of the BDSM community have been generous with their time and willing to disclose personal, private things to me in my pursuit to understand. I still don't get it and likely won't, but I'm a lot closer than I was. I'm beginning to get a glimmer.

Is it harmful to women? Possibly. So is smoking, various drug usage, the patriarchy (yes, I dare use the term), smog, and capitalism.

However, I'm seeing something disturbing in blog-land regarding this issue. First, let me state, up front, that the age-play thing creeps me out. I will also say unequivocally, loudly and repeatedly, that any sexual activity involving children is wrong and age-play gets a too close to that for my comfort. No, I'm not saying that age-players are pedophiles, although likely some are. Hell, some ministers are pedophiles too, for that matter. I'm saying it gets too close for my comfort level.

Now, having that out of the way, the thing I’m seeing in blog-land that is disturbing is that BDSM folks are on trial. They are being drawn into debates where the judges and juries have rendered their verdict before the trial began. I’m judgmental, too, we all are. Everyone has issues that we’ve decided are wrong and that’s as it should be. After all, deciding what’s right and what’s wrong is part of having a moral code, ethical standards.

But the kinky folk are called out to defend their practices. It’s not for the purpose of understanding or “helping.” I’m not sure what it’s for, really. If BDSM women are indeed victims of the patriarchy, one would assume those who recognize and are concerned by such victimization would want to extend help, understanding, support, all of those things that might assist a victim in escaping her abuse. That is NOT what I’m seeing.

Ok, being redundant here, the whole thing is disturbing. So, while none of this is my business in any way, I’m feeling a need to suggest the kinky no longer engage. What you are doing is not illegal, not involving children or animals (which would fall under the rubric of illegal, of course), not damaging (directly, anyway) to anyone other than the participants (who deny that is the case). It’s your business. All I want to say is that you don’t HAVE to allow yourselves to be on trial like this.

Redundant again, I know it’s none of my business. Just saying, you know?

Wow. That made my week.

(There's another Big Apology, this one from radical feminist blogger CJ, over here, which is similarly awesome.)

And her description of what's going on is spot on, in my humble opinion.

"So humanly, humanly..."

Renegade Evolution, weighing in on the current blogthrash:

As the latest bit of the BDSM wars seem to wind down to the inevitable stand off, as they always do, and I continue to try to pick through the rubble seeing if anything even remotely useful or educational or insightful has come about from this latest skirmish there is one thing I’ve really noted this time.

Sure, I’ve seen it before, I am sure I will see it again, but it is really, really standing out this time. That thing? The outcry- sometimes made with reason, sometimes with an attempt to appeal to empathy, sometimes made with resounding rage- on the part of BDSM participants to be seen as…

Human.

Not deluded, not programmed, not victims, or trapped, or insane or stupid, not pathetic, not wicked, not weak, but human.

Like everyone else.

And you know what? Humans? All of us? We’re flawed creatures. Every last one of us. Kinky people are no more or no less flawed than any other human being walking the face of the earth. They are no less imperfect. What they do in the bedroom does not make them any more (or any less) broken or messed up or duped than any other person out there. They are humans, like everyone else, flaws and all, and what they want, what they demand, and what they deserve is to be treated as such.

How hard is that to grasp? That kinky people merely want the same consideration and treatment that is accorded to other people? Flaws and all? Their sex lives make them no more or less so. But it is due to their sex lives they are so often treated subhuman, lesser than, as if they are alien or other…and of course, far more flawed.

....We all have our issues and less than charming quirks and battle scars and bullshit. Each and every one of us. We are all humans- but damn, we are all very, very different. And I do not understand why that is such a hard thing to recognize, to realize, to accept as perhaps the one actual universal truth out there- and thus, we are all going to like or be into different things. And whatever those things might be? Well, there is no guarantee, no promise, that the reasons we are into whatever has anything to do with being flawed, or whatever flaws we have. There is no way to say, without doubt or question, that the reason a person is (or is not) kinky is because…woo, they are messed up!

And even if it is- that is no reason to treat them in some way less human than thou. There is no promise that those kinky people are any less intelligent, self-aware, self-realized, thoughtful, stable, or anything else than thou. And the vibe that gets sent out that somehow, because they are kinky, they are? That crap needs to stop, it is infuriating, it is dehumanizing, and further more, it is entirely possible it is bullshit. Pure and simple. There is no promise of any of those things, and further more, no reason.

There is also no reason that I can see for such a need for all of us to be the same. That, a world where we are all the same, uniform in thought and desire and whatnot? Fuck, if that does not sound like a horrible, dreary, boring place to me. It sounds like a nightmare worse than any one I’ve ever actually had. Short version- I find it incredibly, bone chillingly terrifying. That idea is so alien, so horrible to me that I get queasy just thinking about it- and all that goes with it. It creeps me out, and I am pretty dang creepy. That’s saying something. I would rather have us all being here, our flawed, diverse selves, than be in a world where everyone and everything are the same.

But I would like us all be able to see each other as humans, worthy of basic human respect, and all marked by flaws and differences and strengths and what have you, and see a bit…okay…a lot more tolerance of those sorts of things. I’d never force someone to be kinky against their will, suggest they need some sort of reeducation or whatever to make them how I am, make them like the things I like…I don’t understand why other people think doing the reverse is such a grand idea. Or, that it is even something that is wanted or needed. I by nature am real uncomfortable of doing things for other peoples own good, the whole I am my brothers (or sisters) keeper thing… eww, just, eww. And you know, it is not as if myself, or other kinky people, have not examined, do not examine, are incapable of examining because we’re blinded by our selfish, selfish orgasms or whatever…we have in fact done those things. And we’ve come to our own conclusions. Those conclusions make us no less human.

Thanks, Ren.

...whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?!

I really should just walk away from the bizarro, but I had to preserve this comment for posterity.

Delphyne, on why going to seminars and demos at BDSM groups is a bad thing (would she rather us all just fly blind? Great idea):

As for education, every second BDSMer I seem to come across claims to be a sex educator. You lot are always going on about how important education is in BDSM - for example it was one of the main apologetics for the guy who did the BDSM 101 thing. Trinity even attends seminars on it apparently. That’s a hell of a lot closer to indoctrination than anything I’ve seen in feminism. Let’s also not ignore how reinforcing a message with pain is one of the top tricks in the brainwashers’ arsenal. I think everything you claim to be true of us is actually true of yourselves.

There you have it, folks: Learning how to do things is actually indoctrination.

I don't even know what to say in response to that it's so completely ridiculous.

Does theory come from experience?

Over in the continuing blogthrash at Rage Against the Man-chine, ND calls someone out for giving personal anecdotes and no discussion. Basically, the person described her scenes and said "how can you call this wrong?" ND didn't like this one bit, pointing out that she's debating about feminist interpretations of BDSM as a whole, not talking about particular personal experiences.

My response:

ND,

While I understand your frustration with the personal anecdotes and agree that they don't count as argument, I also think there's something particular that this disconnect brings out:

One side is saying that personal anecdotes do count, because the personal experience is all we've got. "What BDSM means," on such a view, is just what commonalities and themes can be found in thousands of personal stories. It's whatever reasons for it, activities, and explanations are most common, most appealed to, most important. On this view the only way to come up with "what BDSM is about" is to read as many stories as possible (or, failing that, to come up with a sound method of selecting samples) and discover what you find.

The other side -- which you're on -- says that a theory that makes no reference to actual experience can and does explain it, and therefore individual experiences are irrelevant and beside the point.

But my question is: what makes the theory itself one that we should accept, then? As I understand it, radical feminist theory itself arose from practices like consciousness raising, which was lots of women in groups sitting around describing their experiences, noticing commonalities, and coming up with theory that explained those commonalities and how to work to fix the problems that showed up over and over in the lives of many women.

Now, I wasn't around in the '70's, so perhaps some second-wavers/radical feminists who were can correct me. But my question is: What exactly happened? Why does theory now trump experience, when commonalities in experience were precisely what led feminists to determine that sexism wasn't just a personal matter, but rather a political one?

It really confuses me.

Principles and Pleasures

Something I said in a comment thread, wrt the endless "Examine your desires" refrains:

I'm not saying "go wildly against your principles if it brings you momentary pleasure." I am saying "hey, if you're kinky and kink is against your principles because you analyze consensual hierarchy and nonconsensual hierarchy similarly... why not think about why there's no room for you to do what you want, rather than stressing your anti-hierarchy principles?"

I mean, for all they say people like us "don't examine" it strikes me that they have a real blind spot with regards to "examining" how they can fight the good fight AND enjoy life. Why is the question always "must I jettison this pleasure (or indulge it guiltily when I can no longer resist its pull)?" and not "how can my pleasure and my principles coexist?"

I really do think one thing that oft goes unexamined is our cultural history of mistrusting pleasure... especially sexual pleasure. US-ians, at least, are the ideological descendants of Puritans as much as we are anything else.

By that I don't mean that "radical feminists" of a certain stripe are prudish and that's that.

By it I mean we all are programmed as much to mistrust desire and pleasure as we are to believe in the patriarchy.

Minute of Perfection: Fight Club and Submission

Another excellent link on the recent SM and feminism debates

Minute of Perfection: Fight Club and Submission

Before I went to college, I considered myself a feminist and I was pretty passionate about it. I thought feminism was about how to fix the wage differential, overcoming the glass ceiling, helping women get out of abusive situations, and raising social consciousness about the way our culture is oppressive to women. In college, I learned that it was really about replacing a patriarchal definition of my body and sexuality with the feminist one. Oh, and that the huge majority of my sexual interests were really just reinforcing the patriarchy. I had to start talking seriously about whether or not all heterosexual sex was rape and whether or not I should be a lesbian as a matter of political/social obligation. Also, I wasn't devoting the majority of my freetime to feminist activism, so I wasn't doing enough and was really complicit with the patriarchy.

It all became too much when I had to start listening to professors and others who obviously had never tried being in a full-time BDSM relationship, or maybe anything beyond looking at a few websites and being horrified, about what my sexual interests really meant in relation to the patriarchy. Well, fuck that.

At the same time, I felt very much like me backing away from feminism and being unable to give up the joy that many aspects of BDSM give me was a symptom of moral and personal weakness. If I just wasn't so selfish, or so sexually oriented, etc. then I wouldn't need this. I still felt like there was something deeply wrong with our society and the way patriarchy limits choices for everyone. It reinforced me feeling like a whore, or a slut, etc. except these terms now became synonymous for "tool of the patriarchy" for me. As much as some might talk about rape, or victimization, or whatever, I wasn't being raped. I enjoyed all these sex acts that were obviously horrible and evil, loved them to the core of my being, so I must be evil, as complicit in the patriarchy as those who would oppress me. I began to feel like learning to accept patriarchy and anti-feminism was the only way to be happy and I felt very confused.

....I thought of all the things I'd done for my Master. How happily I'd done them. Without shame in the moment, so proud I'd overcome all difficulties and obeyed. Still, there's a swelling of pride knowing that he thinks that I've been a very good girl. Those moments of trust, laying open before him, cradled in his arms like a child ... supplicating for his guidance, suffering for him as a sacrifice for my devotion. So happy and full of love and pure, unadultered joy. In those moments, though, it doesn't take long for the self-hatred to follow. What sort of creature am I that nothing would make me more happy than obliterating my will and my desires, my physical comfort and selfishness, completely in another? Is someone who wants to consent to giving up ownership and control of themselves really even human? If so, then I'm totally fine with not being human, don't want to be. But ... My mother's voice, asking "Where did I go wrong? How could you want these things?" A 'friend' saying, "Independent thought is the foundation of what makes you human, the responsibility of being human." A blog going on about the invisibility of "almost rape" ... but I sort of like the feeling of being "almost" raped, of feeling like it's beyond my control completely with someone I love. Not wanting to, and being taken, of feeling my self and my will stretched out and pliant before him. His voice telling me how beautiful I am, the pleasure and steel in his eyes and he pounds into me, over and over. Feeling myself give over to him completely in those moments and loving it. Feeling so affirmed, so happy. But ... what does that mean about me, that my greatest act of happiness and affirmation is submitting completely to another? A male other, no less, as a female. In a patriarchal society.

Letters from Gehenna: The World on a Slant: The Shareef Don't Like It

Kiya from Letters From Gehenna has collected an amazing compendium of links related to the latest dust-up in the feminist blogiverse.

Letters from Gehenna: The World on a Slant: The Shareef Don't Like It

I'd comment myself, but it's time I should be making sleeps, and I'm not sure there's much more to say, really. A lot of the people in these conversations are just absolutely rock-bottom certain that BDSM is inherently abusive and no one truly consents to it.

In the face of such faith, brilliant enough to blind some very intelligent eyes, what is there to say? I'll continue to tell my story; maybe some, eventually, will listen, and not run through the same set of grooves in her head.

My last comment

on this BDSM and feminism dust-up.

Posted here, though I have no idea if it will make it through mod:

"And my answer is this: If people like you would show some compassion and stop using hate speech like “kill yourself” — and would start considering that the way you talk about BDSM is influencing real people who feel real shame and real despair — then

(a) kinksters would be less likely to entertain thoughts of suicide — or commit suicide,"

The thing is, Clarisse, that I honestly think some of these folks think it's good that we think of suicide.

I don't think anyone in here is actually saying "Go kill yourself" and meaning it.

But I do think that people are saying the world would be safer and sparklier and better if we were not in it.

They wouldn't hand us the guns or the pills -- most people aren't that cruel -- but as long as our despair is not directly their doing, they don't care. They don't see us as fully human.

Until they do, this won't get anywhere. We can talk about how alienated it makes us feel, but until they accept that we are no less people than they are, our stories of nearly killing ourselves will be amusing to them. They will laugh at our weakness, and that will be that.

It won't ever occur to them that it's the same despair that drives the gay youth to believe she should be dead. In fact, the comparison will offend.

Until we are people to them, this is nothing but dark fun.

Nope.

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Diving Back In

I've been gone a while. I've really taken a break from SM-and-feminism debates, and I think it's been good for me. But recently, possibly due to a new anti-SM post up at Nine Deuce's blog, people have been showing up and commenting here. So I figured I'd return, and say some things.

First, start up the zamboni in hell please, because I actually think that there's a Point hidden in all the stuff that has me wincing as I read. To wit:

But what does all this talk of separating D/s in the bedroom from real life, of taking “safe, sane, and consensual” as one’s creed, of female subs being empowered by the emphasis on consent really mean? Methinks the Sisters of Mercy fans doth protest too much, that someone is pissing on my leg and telling me it’s raining. I read 400+ e-mails from men interested in a young woman curious about submission, I looked at a shit-ton of BDSM porn, I went to a BDSM club, I read tens of thousands of words on BDSM-related websites, and I didn’t feel very safe or sane when I got done, nor did I feel like participating in the shit I’d seen or read about would make me feel particularly empowered.

While how safe or sane I feel reading websites is probably rather different than how safe or sane she does, I think she's spot on here. We do a lot of protesting and apologizing here in BDSMland for what we want and what we do (and, for some of us, who we are). We do a lot of insisting that, as ND points out, "safe sane and consensual" means we never get hurt. Means we never find asshole partners. Means we never mess up negotiations in ways that are Not Good for us.

Which is all, as she points out, bullshit.

Which brings me to the difference between these sorts of feminist and us, or at least between ND and me.

I believe that risk is a part of life, and I believe that sometimes things are important enough to someone that she can and should choose to take them.

She recommends scrutiny, for reasons she considers particularly feminist and I consider pretty bad:

When considering sexual matters and their relationship to the general misogyny that pervades our culture, I generally pretend I’m a justice in the Supreme Court of Gender Issues and apply the ol’ strict scrutiny standard (albeit my own modified version of it). Sex, as it has been used throughout history as a tool of domination and as it is the locus of the negotiation of gender roles and a large majority of our social behaviors, requires close analysis. If I’m going to give a sexual practice a free pass and the Nine Deuce seal of approval, it’s got to meet three criteria:

1. First, I ask myself whether women are ever hurt as a result of the practice under consideration. If the answer is yes, the practice has not earned immunity from examination and analysis.
2. Second, I ask myself whether those who engage in the practice ever do so out of a hatred of women. If so, it’s up for discussion and judgment (a nasty word for those with po-mo leanings, I know, but a necessary one nonetheless).
3. Finally, I have to ask myself whether the practice would occur in a society that wasn’t characterized by male supremacy and the hatred of women, both of which tend to manifest as the mixture of sex and power. I’ve got a really impressive imagination (I invented unicorns), so if I can’t imagine a sex act having the power to excite in a post-patriarchal world, I get a little dubious.

If a sex act fails to meet any of these three criteria, you can expect that I’ll be questioning the fuck out of it, and BDSM really blows it on all three.

I don't think these criteria are good ones. I don't think feminism is about figuring out what sorts of nefarious anti-woman things men have in their heads and, armed with Knowledge, tripping warily through the minefield. I think that makes feminism about men in a funny way, about men and about fear, when it's supposed to be about women and about becoming more free. (And yes, self-styled "radical" feminists may not like that word "free," thinking it means "at liberty to make dumb choices." As a matter of fact, I am using it that way. Let's see them sour faces.)

But having walked away from this discussion for months, and feeling so much the better for it, I don't want to talk about that now. I want to talk about something else.

I want to talk about this pervasive sense that feminism is about protecting women from making bad choices by Letting Them Know, through blog posts and essays and books, through warnings and theory and the slow spread of fear, What They're Getting Into.

I'm not for that any more. She's spot on: SM is risky and dark and it means looking into who you are and what you want and finding the spaces where that's not so pretty. The times when you want something no one is supposed to: abasement, exaltation, pain, fear, shame. That's not pretty -- well, no, it's quite pretty. But it's not tame.

It can and does engage all sorts of ugly things, because it draws on anything and everything, and doesn't run. Does that mean that sometimes, male dominance shows up, flaws and history and violence and all? Yes, it does. It even means that some women romanticize that, crave it in their head. In most cases, it will be stripped of social meaning ("I want to be his slave, but I want equal wages at work"), and that's what we mean when we do the "It's only in the bedroom" style insisting. In some cases, though, some people really do buy in to the idea that submission is what a woman is for -- including some women. When we say we're not like those people, we're disavowing that, saying that fantasy doesn't, in the end, trump reason.

Rightly so, IMO. There are people out there into ANYTHING who go overboard, and suffer for it.

But that doesn't really answer 92, and those like her. Their point is that women's submission to men, however bounded, just is frightening. Particularly to someone who doesn't have similar interests and whose deepest passion is a witty, cold, "radical feminist" rage that gets her a rapt audience.

Which it should be.

The disagreement isn't over that. It's over the place of the frightening in our lives. It's over whether you think people should dive into the frightening, or whether you're waving signs and trying to forcibly haul them back out.

I know where I stand on that.

Which is why I stick up for female subs the same as I stick up for me, despite that I've heard a fair amount of the same bullshit that she sees as epidemic.

Living means taking risks. It also means being wise about doing so, which is what all the "SSC", all the "limits", all the "I'm not 24/7", all that stuff, whether well-conceived or nonsensical, is about.

Risk management. Not risk elimination.

But someone coming up to me and saying "Isn't BDSM emotionally unsafe [for women bottoms living in patriarchy]?" is like someone coming up to me and saying "Don't condoms break?"

Not my place to decide whether someone else should panic and run because her boyfriend's might.