"The male is completely egocentric, trapped inside himself, incapable of empathizing or identifying with others... His responses are entirely visceral, not cerebral... He is a half-dead, unresponsive lump, incapable of giving or receiving pleasure or happiness; consequently, he is at best an utter bore, an inoffensive blob, since only those capable of absorption in others can be charming. He is trapped in a twilight zone halfway between humans and apes... To call a man an animal is to flatter him..."
Valerie Solanis again.
I'm ambivalent to say the least about SCUM Manifesto. I haven't read the whole thing and I suspect that I need to in order to be able to form a fully-fledged opinion on it. But I'm not quite sure I can wade through all the extreme man-hating in order to find any possible gems. It seems to me that work like this is part of what has given feminism a bad name and led to the 'dreaded F-Word' being so repulsive to today's young women. Well, that and the depiction of feminism in the media - the media which is, oh yes, run by men...
I can, however, see where she's coming from in some respects.
Take the quote above. I object to the massive generalisation (I know that my father is one of many men who would not fit that generalisation) but right now I rather feel that it applies to Claviers. In fact, swap "the male" and "a man" with the word Claviers and it's an incredibly convincing argument...
He's been a total dick-wad to me recently and has showed himself to be a completely self-absorbed arsehole, choosing to put his own urges above the needs and feelings of others (and not just me - Peebug as well)
This is a particularly offensive turn of events since he seems to be so very nice when you meet him - sweet, generous, loving new-man-type... Aah bless him, bless Claviers, such a lovely gentle man. Bullshit.
The bitch in me wants to be there when Bâiller finds out so I can take a photo and point and laugh. The human being that I am feels sorry for her already.
Why does all this bother me so much though? As expressed in a previous post, I came to the realisation that I was never actually in love with him in the first place. Obviously I must have had romantic feelings for him at one stage, but they died long ago.
I think it's mainly because I spent so long (months and months, possibly even a year) agonising over my feelings for Mon Amore, feeling that I was betraying Claviers by thinking about Him and wishing I was with Him; and even after we had split up, agonising over the morality of it all. While friends told me I should follow my heart, my sense of integrity stepped in. "No, I could never do that to Claviers, never. I could never hurt him so much..."
And now he has tossed our friendship aside the minute Bâiller inflicted her mediocre existence onto us all.
At the moment, we still watch True Blood together. It's partly a sort of unspoken 'divorce' settlement (I get access to the TV and Shmooshy the Cat once a week) and a somewhat contrived means of staying 'friends'. But I have the nagging feeling that, without True Blood, he wouldn't keep in regular contact. And, of course, the tirades I have unleashed against him in this unread place beg the question "Why are you bothering??"
I'm not really sure. Partly because I really love True Blood and can't get 4 On Demand on my old-skool laptop. Partly because it's my nature to be eternally optimistic and have faith in the good of human beings.
I suppose I was always deluded in my hopes that he would ever actually evolve. Even as I let him gradually turn me into a sexually-frustrated 1950s housewife I thought he might change if I was patient.
But I suspect that he is in fact trapped in a twilight zone halfway between humans and apes...
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