Reblogged from cassie-killjoy April 7, 2012 by clownyprincess


PSA post to my fellow feminists

trans*women can’t appropriate a woman’s identity


because they are women.

Maybe this needs repeating- but being a woman transcends your genitalia or your chromosomes. Being a woman is how you identify. That’s it. That’s all it takes to identify as a woman. If you know in your heart of hearts that you are a woman- that’s all it is.

So don’t be that douche bag that has the audacity to degrade a trans woman or demand her to prove her womanhood. She owes you no explanation. 

Now if you really are a feminist, you will defend her existence to the death and ensure that she always has a safe space and voice with in the movement.



I don’t want to be a feminist anymore. Like a five-year-old, I want to close my eyes, stick my fingers in my ears, stomp my feet on the floor and scream “No! No, you cannot make me, I won’t, leave me alone!” I am, simply put, too tired. So very, very tired.

I am tired of fighting with my friends. I am tired of arguing that someone groping and slapping my butt isn’t “what I have to expect”, just because I’m at a bar, and the one attacking my butt has a drink in the other hand. I am tired of hearing “boys will be boys” and “when you’re dressed like that …” and “that’s just what guys do”. I am tired of trying to drown those sentiments in loud, repetitive no’s, screamed over and over again, till my throat is sore and my voice weak – just to hear them repeated, as soon as exhaustion threatens to silence me.

I am tired of being afraid. I am tired of seeing someone writing something offensive, sexist, racist, ageist, ableist, somewhere online. I am tired of seeing those writings getting likes and lol’s, and SO TRUE’s. I am tired of being consumed by confusion and anger, typing, typing, typing and typing a seemingly endless response, including research, links and statistics, and then hesitate clicking “submit”. I am tired of knowing that I hesitate because I am afraid of the flood of responses that will come. I am tired of knowing that I will be bombarded with lighten up’s, stop whining’s and get a sense of humor’s for so long, that I will start to wonder if I am indeed wound up too tight, a nagger and humorless. I am tired of the fact that I’m afraid of being called a cunt, even though I don’t find genitalia insulting or demeaning.


Reblogged from wonderwomanv2 February 18, 2012 by clownyprincess

I don’t want to be a feminist anymore.

(via notafraidofruins)

This is a really frustrating feeling.  It really, really is, and the problem is even worse for the trans* and POC community (who are liable to suffer much more than just name-calling), and the whole thing just gets so ridiculous and infuriating sometimes. 

(via wonderwomanv2)

Yannow what super-duper sucks? Being tired of being a feminist in the fucking queer community and having anti-racism, anti-ableism and anti-cissexism treated as a joke, or worse - as is the trend in Sydney at the moment - as “thought-policing”.

I mean, I expect this shit from the straight community, though I hate it. But you queers should know better. :/

"When someone tells me she has feminist concerns with sex work, knowing that sex work is my only solution to the problem of poverty, I have a lot of trouble taking her feminism seriously because she is not taking the reality of my life seriously. Acknowledging that “there has to be a better way” isn’t good enough. I need to not live in poverty. Not after the revolution. Right now. Knowing how I feel about some feminists’ disregard for my experiences of intersecting oppression, if someone offers me a version of feminism that doesn’t confront its own colonizing or transphobic practices, I’m not going to take that very seriously either."

Reblogged from sexworkerproblems February 17, 2012 by clownyprincess

To the would-be sex work abolitionist, or, ‘ain’t I a woman’? | (via workingsex)

When someone tells me she has feminist concerns with sex work, I tell her to fuck off.

But the above is good too.

Sydney Queer Community

February 2, 2012 by clownyprincess

Cos I know some of you happen past this blog now and then:

People of Colour and trans women refusing to accept minimisation, offensive stereotypes, exclusion, discrimination, unsafe environments and general all-round disrespect is not the same thing as Nazi-fucking-Germany.

And drawing those comparisons - or laughing at them - trivialises not only their very real struggles, but the atrocities of racist, homophobic & ableist torture and murder visited on six million people that was the Holocaust. 

Get some perspective, some compassion and some fucking maturity. 

Your behaviour is disgusting.

Anyone who invokes Godwin’s Law, ever…

February 2, 2012 by clownyprincess



ESPECIALLY if you’re comparing one of the most brilliant, brave, sensitive and truly politically radical people in this rotten queer burg to HITLER. 

It’s a logical fallacy at the best of times and would be even if this person were actually an asshole… but they’re not. Just because this individual consistently calls out oppression and discrimination in this messed-up, cliquey popularity contest we call a queer community here in Sydney,  just because they keep pushing us to be better and to learn more and to improve and momentarily poops your little party of not caring a damn about who you hurt does NOT make them a “fascist”.  What it does make them is eons more socially and ethically responsible than you. 

The comparison is so disproportionate as to be pathetic.

It’s not just that, though. I mean, seriously. Godwin’s, without fail, trivialises the very real atrocities wrought through the Nazi regime. Pissing all over the brutal (RACIST/HOMOPHOBIC/ABLEIST) murders of six million people just so you can have a whinge about how you no longer have carte blanche to say/do whatever fucked up thing you want to without someone calling you out on it… chrissakes. Take some fucking responsibility. Grow the fuck up. 


Excerpt: "Note that the Law is not supposed to apply to serious discussions of Fascist Germany or its policies, but rather describes the logical fallacy of Hitler/Nazi comparisons. It is generally accepted that whoever is the first to play the "Hitler card" has lost the argument as well as any trace of respect, as having to resort to comparing your adversary to the most infamous mass-murdering dictator in history generally means you’ve run out of better arguments."

Seriously, queer community. Shit all over two of my most favourite people ever (and people this community is damn lucky to have anywhere even near it) in one week? All because you can’t take responsibility for your own bigotry and exclusiveness? Pathetic. 

And for good measure:

Politically Correct: “I Do Not Think That Means What You Think It Means”

 "These days, I can pretty much guarantee that when someone uses the phrase “politically correct,” it’s in the context of someone getting upset that they can’t say whatever they want, whenever they want, without consequences. Saying “politically correct” has become a shorthand for “Ugh, all those people who are in some way different from me are so sensitive, and I can’t just go ahead and say shitty things about them like you could in the good old days.” There’s a reason for that. The “good old days” weren’t good for everyone. They weren’t good for minorities, and women, and the disabled, and pretty much everyone who wasn’t a relatively affluent white Christian man. I think that people who use it manage to show the world some very important facts about themselves in just two words. Facts like they’re intolerant. They’re bigoted. They’re privileged. They’re inconsiderate of other people. And they’re assholes. So I propose we do away with the phrase “politically correct,” and replace it with “not being an asshole.” Because that’s what it really boils down to. People who are against “political correctness” are upset that they can’t be an asshole without being called on it. Not using racial slurs isn’t being politically correct, it’s not being an asshole. Not saying that women belong in the kitchen, raising kids and being subservient to their husbands is not being politically correct, it’s not being an asshole. Think about it: “I think political correctness has gotten way out of control” can easily be replaced with, “My ability to openly be a bigot is being limited and I don’t like it.”

Pretty much. 

Reblogged from redheadpowers January 13, 2012 by clownyprincess




Taken from the Honest Girl Scouts campaign. For a campaign trying to get people /not/ to buy cookies and /not/ support the GSUSA, this is doing an awful lot to suddenly make me want /to/ support the GSUSA. (and I’m saying this a a former Girl Scout of about 6 years who hasn’t bought cookies in years because they’re too expensive). 

I see so much acceptance here, and especially in a time in children’s lives where acceptance is so important, taking that away from them is just cruel.

Fucking AMAZING. Samoas for breakfast, Tagalongs for Lunch, Thin Mints for Dinner from now on.

It warms my heart that this organization is proving itself to be such a positive influence and is instilling really awesome values in kids. All this information is making me proud to be a former Girl Scout. As soon as they eliminate the “serve God” part from the Girl Scout promise, they’ll be golden.


Is this supposed to put me off Girl Scouts? This is making me LOVE Girl Scouts.

HEAD GIRL: I remember, long ago, in a galaxy far far away, when Buck Angel was only a fleeting thought

Reblogged from privilegedandgoodlooking-deacti November 14, 2011




I’d heard of him once or twice, but didn’t know much. I’d not seen anything he was in, and only knew he was a trans guy in porn. So I was vaguely positive about it out of hand.

Then I read an awful, awful, awful, article (I mentioned it earlier) about the “phenomenon” or surgery parties. Not only was the article construed in a really destructive manner, hardly speaking about the issues in medical transitioning that make it a necessity to fundraise for medical transitioning (namely insurance issues, steep costs of surgery, and the only now relaxing therapy requirements present in most places in order to get “cleared” for surgery). But the shining turd on this steaming pile of dung was the following:

Not everyone thinks the benefit parties are a positive—or necessary—thing. One of the world’s most prominent trans men, porn star Buck Angel, thinks that benefit parties only lessen the seriousness involved in transitioning to a new gender. “Ugh, don’t get me started. That’s my hugest pet peeve,” he says. “You wanna be a man? Act like a man. Men take care of themselves. Very rarely do they fucking beg for money. Get a fucking job and save your money, and save money like a man. Asking a handout for surgery—it really bothers me. It’s just wrong, and it adds to that element of trendiness. It’s ‘Let’s have a boob-removal party!’”


Man, y’know what, Buck Angel truly is a fuckin’ patron saint of trans*ness. How could anyone find fault with this man? (sarcasm)

i have complicated feelings about surgery fundraiser parties because they’re really useful and necessary for a lot of folks but can also be a part of this hip queer scene celebrity-culture / sexual-commodity thing

but, shit, buck angel is such a dick

I’d feel way better about surgery fundraiser activites if I ever saw one for trans women on genderqueer folks, or pretty much anyone who isn’t a white chillbro.

^^^ This.

I think visibility and inclusion is the crux of the issue here. Trans women have thriving communities where they organise heaps of amazing supportive initiatives, including fundraisers… but the rest of the queer community never hears about them because the rest of the queer community does not make trans women feel welcome. They’re not seen as sexy or as sexualised or even as trendy and cool as trans men. I think trans women are characterised as ‘sad’ and ‘pathetic’ way more than trans men and, of course, are subjected to far more ‘rigorous’ policing of ability to ‘pass’. And, of course, there’s all the other phobia and prejudice and discrimination they face, such as being characterised as potentially-threatening and dangerous to women… not to mention that any trans woman who did publicise a fundraiser amongst the greater queer community would probably come under greater scrutiny than a trans man doing same… all of it tied up in transmisogyny.

Trans women are definitely doing amazing stuff, the fault is with the queer community for ostracising them. 

Also, Buck Angel is totally a dick. Did you cop a load of his tantie and fauxpology for not having more POC in his porn?

Dan Savage talks to David Jay, founder of AVEN

Reblogged from July 14, 2011



I decided to listen to Dan Savage’s podcast, because up until now, I’ve only read quotes from him, and I’ve had a problem with a lot of the things I’ve read about him. I have to say, hearing him speak directly did not change my opinions about him at all. In fact, he came off as a bit sexist in parts, which added to my dislike. Referring to Marcus Bachmann as the “first lady” in an attempt to emasculate and discredit him comes across as really sexist. Telling a woman that her behaviour was “very female,” as if this is a negative thing and telling her to “man up” comes across as really sexist. I’m undecided about the “getting fucked” bit near the end, but it definitely has sexist undertones. Also, referring to anyone as a “controlling psycho bitch,” is not only sexist, but ablest as well. Fat-shaming is frequent throughout the podcast.

As to the part of the podcast about asexuality, it wasn’t quite as offensive as I expected it to be, given what I’ve read (which isn’t saying much, as it was still quite offensive). I don’t think this was the most adequate depiction of Savage’s views on asexuality, however. The fact that David Jay was under contract probably affected what Savage could and couldn’t say.

The comments from his listeners underneath the podcast make me want to cry. They’re awful. I really sincerely hope they’re not representative of the LGBT community as a whole.

I really don’t like Dan Savage at all.

Surprise! Dan Savage continues to be a jerk.

This just in! Dan Savage is STILL a jackass and STILL not worth your support or commendation.

(Source: abortion-barbie)

Sedentary Meanderings: Why I won't be in SlutWalk

Reblogged from ardhra June 13, 2011


Warning: mentions of transphobia, rape, sexual violence, sexism, cissexism, heterosexism, racism.

I’ve thought about it quite a bit and I don’t think I’ll participate in the Sydney SlutWalk.

I’ve never really identified with the term “slut” and while I have no problem with people using it to…

An excellent, considered post discussing some of the fundamental flaws of the SlutWalk movement. Important to read.

SlutWalk: A Testimony By A Transgender Man

June 9, 2011 by clownyprincess

The below is a transcript of a speech given at Melbourne Slutwalk this year on the 28th May. This speech was given by a transgender man who was assigned female at birth and socialised as female before asserting his true identity as a man. He was raped both when society perceived him as female and after his transition. 

The amazing, powerful & wonderful testimony he gave as one of five awesome speeches prior to the march itself was considered by many to be the highlight of the event.  Even a nearby policeman was spotted crying as he listened to this story!

I am proud to know this man and call him my friend. He has given his permission to me to share his speech on tumblr. We encourage you all to reblog and share it further.

He has, however, asked that his name not be attached to this post.

(Trigger warning for discussion of rape and assault)

I just want to make it clear that I am here on behalf of myself only. I do not represent anyone but myself and my words are all my own. Public speaking is not something I’ve done before so please understand if I don’t seem confident in my speech as I never actually feel safe in public.

Firstly I’d like to state that I chose to speak today as a masculine voice because I think it’s important that all voices are heard. 

I speak as a transman, 

as someone who was socialized as female, 

as someone who accesses masculine privilege (amongst many other privileges), 

as a survivor of sexual-assault 


as a survivor of victim-blaming.

I’d also like to state that my views of female socialization are incredibly strong throughout this speech and that I recognize that women are not the only people subject to sexual-assault.

This is a trigger warning:

I am going to be talking about sexual-assault that I have experienced. I will not be going into detail about the attacks but I am going to be using the word “rape” as it is very important to me to use it’s strength to keep myself strong.

I have been sexually assaulted both as a female and since finding myself, as a trans man. It has taken me years to stop blaming myself and sometimes I still find myself doing so. I struggle a lot with the fact that as a woman, I felt too unsafe to report my rape to authorities but somehow felt safer to do so as a transgender person. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to figure out why I felt this way and I’d like to share some of my thoughts.

I never knew what it felt like to be a woman, even before I knew I was a man.

When I was still in the closet about my gender, I was taking all my pointers from society. I knew I had to reach someone’s expectation of femininity and tick someone’s box to be a “real female”. These boxes I thought I had to tick were as simple as past-fashioned stereo-types “girls have long hair”, “girls wear dresses” etc and as relatively complex (for a young teen) as “if my sexual partner is a female and I am a female then I have to identify as a lesbian…unless of course we invite a boy into the picture, which makes me bi”.

What I never realized when I was trying so hard to be female is that I was actually doing what far too many people do and not questioning WHY I had to do these things and who’s ideas or expectations I was attempting to live up to.

Since knowing that I am trans and learning more about my rights, since stepping away from being female, since stepping into the privilege of being read as male, I have been able to see SO clearly just how much I was blaming myself for everything. The guilt I had when I was trying to live as female was overwhelming and it makes me feel SO sick to my stomach to think that there are still people existing and living every day with this unwarranted guilt over their heads.

I’d spent far too many years blaming myself for my own rapes. For my state of intoxication at the time, for what I was wearing, for how I was behaving, for how I was dancing and who I was dancing with. For choosing to spend my last $20 on booze instead of a cab and therefore having to walk home. For not being physically strong enough to keep the rapists off me and for even leaving my home in the first place.

For hundreds of years, women have been socialized to feel responsible for everything. 

To feel responsible for everything negative. 

To feel negative for feeling.

There is so much self-doubt slammed into women by society that even if other people aren’t blaming them, survivors will be blaming themselves.

Within the last six months, I opened up to my mother about an assault I had lived through. Her initial reaction was something like “WHO DID THIS TO YOU? I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL THEM” but within what could not have been more than five minutes, her headspace had shifted to “When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Don’t I support you enough? I’m a terrible mother. How could I let this happen to you?”

We were two hysterical beings filled with rage, sitting in our pjs and bawling our eyes out. I wasn’t crying about my rape. I was crying that my mother was blaming herself.

After holding her and comforting her until she was able to hold herself, I was left feeling guilty. I felt guilty for making my mother cry. I felt guilty for not being able to support her more. I felt guiltY for not being able to convince her it wasn’t her fault. Then I felt cold. Why was I comforting someone else because they were upset that *I* was raped? Where was my comfort? Then another rush of guilt came. It was my fault my mother knew I’d been raped. It was my fault she was crying. It was horrible of me to want more comfort. I felt guilty for needing to be held.

I wish so much that years ago, someone had have told me that my rape was not my fault.


If anyone has ever been brave enough to share with you information about being assaulted. LET THEM KNOW IT IS NOT THEIR FAULT. If you are standing near someone who is OUT about being a SURVIVOR, tell them: IT IS NOT, WAS NOT AND WILL NEVER BE THEIR FAULT.


Since living as male, in queer and feminist communities as well as the huge world outside of my privileged bubble, I have had hardly anything aimed at me to feel that ANYTHING is my responsibility. I am sick of women’s voices being the only voices speaking up against rape. I am sick of SURVIVORS’ voices being the only voices speaking up against rape.

It is not the responsibility of survivors to educate everyone else on rape.

Same as it is not women’s responsibility to educate people on sexism; it is not the responsibility of People Of Colour to educate naive white people on racism. It is not the responsibility of people with different ability to educate people on Ableism. And it is not the responsibility of trans* people to educate cis people on trans* issues.

If you come from a place of privilege, it is your responsibility to recognize that, educate yourself and educate OTHERS.

I have walked down a dark main road, after midnight both as a woman and as a man. There is a REASON a lone woman will cross the street to AVOID me.

DUDES, MEN, MALES, FELLAS, GUYS: I can not say this enough, it is YOUR responsibility to educate yourself on rape. It is YOUR responsibility to educate your friends on rape. It is your responsibility, just for accessing your privilege, to use it the best way you can.

If you believe in women’s rights. If you believe in feminism. If you believe women and men should be equal. Then I dare you to doubt yourself, I dare you to strip yourself of all your safety, I dare you to wear clothes that society will scrutinize you for. Wear something that will get you attacked. THEN recognize that there is nothing a woman can wear that WON’T get her attacked.

I don’t know what else there is I feel I can say. I’m exhausted. Thank you so much for your time and thanks Clem for giving me the opportunity to speak today.

I’m going to leave this unfinished because this dialogue should only stop when rape stops.


Reblogged from privilegedandgoodlooking-deacti June 5, 2011 by clownyprincess




Miles Walser (by inkteagunn)

For years you hid your tampons between mattresses, cut your hair short, lowered your voice, collected ace bandages and baggy clothes. Small town talk stuck to your shoulders, you nervously shuffled around gas stations, never looked men in the eyes. We share unwanted wombs. While mine collects cobwebs, yours lies in a coffin in Nebraska. 

This is the state that made you famous, handed movie scripts to Hilary Swank. Your murder was Oscar worthy. We are walking obituaries. Your hate crime headline already carved across my forehead, people look at me and see your delicate hands and absent adam’s apple. 

Brother, I’m afraid to use the bathroom… (Walk in, head down, don’t look at another guy.) I’m afraid I’ll be discovered… (Don’t talk, dont stare, don’t piss too quickly.) Some thick armed man will call me a queer, tell me to show him my tits. Suddenly I’m thrown against faucets, spit in my face, workboot gutting my stomach. I see you on the movie screen and wonder if it’s my reflection. I watch them push you into the dirt and drag me into their car as they break our bodies in between our thighs.

Brother, did it hurt when you kissed her goodbye? Did you know you were breaking your promise when you told her you’d come back? Did your parents panic? Buy you a prom dress? Struggle over pronouns at family gatherings? And how long did it take your girlfriend to run her hands along your skin, soft as hers? Did she leave her eyes open?

We are carcasses. Untouched boxes of condoms. We are public secrets, playground jokes, and horror films. We are costumes, stuffing, binding and makeup. We aren’t real men to them. Invisible til we’re screaming. They don’t remember our names until they read them on our tombstones.

They exposed you. Decided you’re better off as splattered ink on newspaper. Used you as a warning for the rest of us. And there are days when it works. Sometimes I forget that sidewalks can be safe. Sometimes I confuse their shooting eyes for the bullet that met yours. Sometimes I imagine the phone call my mother would get. Can almost hear my sobbing friends. Smell the lillies on my casket. Touch my girlfriend’s black dress. But brother, I am trying to be brave.

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