Scribbles and Bits

Mori: I’m reading a lesbian history book, Faderman’s Odd Girls and Twilight Lovers: A History of Lesbian Life in Twentieth-Century America, and this bit on utopian lesbian-feminism gone wrong in the 1970s feels so relatable fifty years later:

The uncompromising stance and rhetoric of rage in the movement was bound to bring about bitter feelings and factionalism. Perhaps rage was an inextricable part of lesbian-feminism, because once these women analyzed the female’s role in society they realized they had much to be furious about. But their anger sometimes manifested as a horizontal hostility in which members of the community were constantly attacking other members, either because they had strayed from some politically correct behavior or because the diversity within the growing groups was not sufficiently recognized to appease everyone. As the decade progressed, the core groups tended to get smaller as factions multiplied and splintered and became more and more insistent in their demand to be heard or in their conviction that they alone were the true lesbian-feminists. Attacks were often brutal, combining what one victim described as “the language of the revolution [with] the procedure of the inquisition.”

Like the Left, lesbian-feminists believed that the revolution meant change—women changing themselves as well as changing the world. Criticism and self-criticism were thus crucial in order to perfect themselves in their quest for utopia. It was to the credit of lesbian-feminists that they wanted to provide a platform for criticism in the name of improvement, but criticism often became vituperation. This was particularly true when the community opened itself to criticism from minority voices. [...]

Women felt freer to complain within the lesbian-feminist community than in the more oppressive heterosexual world, where their mistreatment was far worse. Not only did community doctrine mandate listening to criticism by all members, but also they felt the community was or should be family and they were claiming their rightful place in the family. But the word “oppression” was then tossed around so loosely as an accusation that it came to be devalued. Criticism too often became crippling. It seemed that every move one made was sure to be found politically incorrect by a dozen others. (Pg. 235-236)

Mori: Was digging around and refound the zines of August Eckhardt, AKA Rocko Bulldagger, Bleached Blonde Bimbos #1 and #2 in the Queer Zine Archive Project (sadly not screenreadable). They're still winners, but this quote in particular, from June 2005, especially jumped out at me:

"What is with this more-radical-than-thou attitude? If no one has a hope of understanding you, who are you even talking to? [...] Between being tragically misunderstood, perpetually on the cutting edge and more radical [than] everyone else, when do you have time to connect with others? [...] So many strict rules about how to be what you are, what to call it, and how you can expect others to relate to it. All this rigidity seems to be isolating, resulting in a cycle of pain, loneliness and bitterness, trying to find people exactly like yourself because they will understand but no one else will, consequently being disappointed, becoming more rigid, more hurt, stricter and more precise about your language and identity... and on and on..." (Bleached Blonde Bimbos II, "The End of Genderqueer," pg. 10)

Rocko was talking specifically about the genderqueer identity, and how it morphed and changed out from under them over the course of 1999-2005, but I feel like a lot still holds true about other things, twenty years later. Also both zines are just still really good! Might have to print out a copy of #1 for my shelf. Also they got me to check out Amber Hollibaugh from the library, which is cool!

Guess I'm gonna be adding them to the Self-Hate and Social Justice Bibliography! (Maybe I'll just make the "edward cullen haunts my soul" tag about noble liberatory causes being twisted into poison and self/other-hate, not like we use it for its original purpose much anymore...)

Rawlin: So... I'm a girl. For now. I'm going by she/her.

Okay, that's it. *flees*

Mori: GOOD JOB, SUGARCANE! YOU SOCIALED SO GOOD! *thumbs up*

Anyway, even though sewing is not my strength, I'm thinking of making her a chiton to wear. It looks so easy, even I probably can't fuck it up irrevocably, and Biff can sew, so I'm sure if he coaches (harangues) me, I can get through it. Since it hangs entirely from the shoulders, it wouldn't squish her fur to her body, and it's super breathable so she won't overheat!

Also I think she'll look cute in one. (I don't like looking cute or pretty myself, but I like it when she does, because she lights up like a sunbeam any time I tell her.)

I can probably just find some old sheet at the Goodwill or something. Then she'll have something in the vessel world too, if she wants. (I mean, she has black trunks and a sports bra now, but if she wanted something else.)

Mori: I HAVE EATEN A PIGEON

IT WAS DELICIOUS

AT LONG LAST ITS POWERS ARE MINE 

This is a very silly chat conversation between our friend K and Mori and Rawlin.

Mori: In these trying times, we have focused on the important things: making our first animated GIF of ig/noble Hack103 deaths. We been saving screencaps of the impressive ones a while, might as well icon ‘em! (Will upload them when home.)

( yet another stupid death )

Mori: went to HONK! Clapped my hands sore, danced/walked my feet blistered, cataloged some books for the library, made Madgic 4 pages, burned a godseed, participated in local politics, got gay books and bought a spiffy new yard sale hat for Grey.

I am exhausted. I am content. 

Even though I forgot the groceries.

Mori: I saw a drawing with this slogan and rough composition somewhere on the Internet earlier this year, but it seems to have disappeared and I haven't been able to find it again. In fact, searching got me THIS as a result:



No, Google, I did NOT mean that, but if the shoe fits, I might as well wear it, so I ended up drawing my own version. I also plan to make a "butches and trans women are sisters in arms" but until Poop Jail is done and Arisia is over, we have no spare drawing time.

Click to embiggen!

Mori: THE HEAT IS RETURNED UNTO US! HUZZAH!

Me and Biff descended upon the cabinets like a tidy tornado. We emptied, scrubbed, and container-ed three of the six cabinets. It took us roughly... four hours or so? (There is also the kitchen table and door rack to do. And the fridge, but the fridge is a problem for Future People, since it is already mouse/moth-proof.)

The baking cabinet was especially harrowing. Pretty sure we found both the Ark of the Covenant and Jimmy Hoffa back there, not to mention a LOT of bugs and multiple copies of expired food. (There were THREE different containers of honey.) On the plus side, we also were able to find some more containers to clean and put future food in, and put the (toxic, NOT TO BE EATEN) essential oils NOT in a food cabinet. The baking cabinet is now a glory to behold, instead of a mothwebbed horror.

GLORY!

Rogan: Realized that I just... never uploaded some of the art Sneak and Mori cranked out for the Loony-Brain Primer, and assorted stuff that's been done for months, either because there was too much going on, or because the pandemic made . So here's some of it now.
( Headmate art and a botsona. )