andreadworkin_narrowweb__200x266

There are no good pics… [image from Sydney Morning Herald]

[From the “the more things change, the more they stay the same” files.]

The time was 1994 and, downunder at least, it was when the last great wave of gender feminist lunacy was peaking before sanity once more prevailed and it disappeared back up its own asshole to hibernate for a decade or so.

Reclaim the Night rallies were still drawing enough numbers to embolden some to splash porn stores with red paint and the great fear-n-loathing du jour was date rape…

The mood of the time, and the surreal deformation of conventional reality that accompanied it, was captured quite creepily in this passage from Christina Hoff Sommers in Who Stole Feminism?

Recently several male students at Vassar0 were falsely accused of date rape. After their innocence was established, the assistant dean of students, Catherine Comins, said of their ordeal: “They have a lot of pain, but it is not a pain that I would necessarily have spared them. I think it ideally initiates a process of self-exploration. ‘How do I see women?’ ‘If I did not violate her, could I have?’ ‘Do I have the potential to do to her what they say I did?’ These are good questions.” Dean Comins clearly feels justified in trumping the common law principle “presumed innocent until proven guilty” by a new feminist principle, “guilty even if proven innocent.” Indeed, she believes that the students are not really innocent after all. How so? Because, being male and being brought up in the patriarchal culture, they could easily have done what they were falsely accused of having done, even though they didn’t actually do it. Where men are concerned, Comins quite sincerely believes in collective guilt. Moreover, she feels she can rely on her audience to be in general agreement with her on this.

The idea of collective guilt may sound like the theological doctrine of original sin, but in Christianity, at least, it applies equally to all human beings. Racists and gender feminists are more “discriminating.”

Sound familiar? It should. At least to those that have followed the contemporary babblings of Amanda Marcotte, particularly regarding the Duke lacrosse case – calls to discard all conventional legal procedure if you happen to have a penis; suspension of habeas corpus; the presumption of guilt with the burden on proof of innocence… “the more things change, the more they stay the same”.

Of course the date rape hysteria of some 20 years ago did not just happen by itself. It was built upon the foundations of the porn wars of the ’80s and the resurgent wallowing victim, neo-puritan, sex-hating, fear-breeding, gender feminism with its laser sites targeted on pornography specifically and adults doing adult things in general. The two loudest and most destructive voices were those of Andrea Dworkin and Catharine MacKinnon – the true spiritual forebears of atheism+, FTB and Skepchick.

And of course, then as now, there was a resistance against the madness. Hoff Sommers spoke up first, but was soon followed by others similarly unwilling to succumb to the role of the fragile, weak willed, perpetual victim woman at the mercy of the amorphous, yet all powerful, patriarchy – such as Katie Roiphe who voiced her disgust at the date rape victimology loud and clear in The Morning After: Sex, Fear and Feminism on Campus. Yes, they were branded gender traitors back then too, amongst other terms – they were examples of nasty pushback, as Michael Nugent puts it in regard to the current nonsense being peddled by the Watsonista jihadis… “the more things change, the more they stay the same”.

There was somewhat of a grassroots uprising as well in the nascent public access internet – both pre- and post world wide web. The loudest and angriest of these proto-bloggers by a mile was the eternally wonderful Misanthropic Bitch – and her shameless venom unleashed a horde of the like minded, equally loud and angry, but none anywhere near her class. But the bitch herself was predated by earlier, though lesser, efforts primarily on Usenet, but also on BBS systems and university FTP sites. One of these was I Bleed For This? which operated from 1994-1996. It was a hit or miss affair, though mostly miss, but it did shoot out one piece of timeless vitriol that is now more pertinent than ever – Fucking Andrea Dworkin.

The piece was picked up by Jim and (the late) Debbie Goad and published as part of the ANSWER Me! 4 Rape Issue and achieved a fair bit of notoriety in its own right. I reproduce the entire thing below, a la Ophelia Benson – only I’m not doing it because I’m an intellectual vacuum desperately scrabbling for filler content, but as a public service. The original article was written when a fair number of the readers here were still in nappies, or still a load in daddy’s balls waiting to squirt, and as such may not be aware of parts of the history of the times. This version has plentiful links to external sources, footnotes and, of course, obligatory eye candy. The article could well have been written today with very little changed – the description of the obsequious male feminists and the symbiotic relationship between loopy feminism and fringe right theism are the same then as now… “the more things change, the more they stay the same”.

Enjoy!

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—————————- I Bleed for This? ——————————
——11.26.94—————————————————–#035——

Fucking Andrea Dworkin
Appreciated by Jason Farnon

From ANSWER Me!: Issue 4
Goad2Hell@aol.com

You’ve seen the section in the bookstores – “Women’s Studies,” a jumble of lesbian propaganda disguised as clinical research into straight sex lives; the “blessed-be’s” and hairy-legged tracts of so-called “white witches”; cunt coloring books; coy celebrations of menstruation and other uterine mysteries; spurious archaeology fabricating a golden, peaceful age of matriarchy; and, most entertainingly, violent screeds calling for male gendercide.  Very few males blunder into this “pedagogy of the oppressed,” and fewer still actually ingest the suffocatingly righteous blithering.

setard

This is what a man should look like according to A+, FfTB and Skepchick – the clown prince Setar.

Not that they’re invited to.  Women’s Studies are by women for women , a gender-exclusive club appropriating the wardrobe of third-world rhetoric. This is in the language of the victim, a screeching vocabulary of complaint and revolt against the despotic tyranny of men.  Male despots are not welcome to enter into dialogue with the Women’s Studies club unless they check their testosterone at the door, guiltily accept the “bad guy” rap, and cluck their tongues against the miscreants of their own gender who stubbornly deny female moral superiority.  These de-juiced specimens can be viewed to best advantage in college towns, their concave chests cuddling the bastard offspring of Birkenstock-shod mates who are busy passing out petitions for the removal of Penthouse from convenience stores.

During my own college days, misspent in a feminist stronghold ninety miles south of San Francisco, I observed backsliding impulses among even the staunchest “sisters,” a yearning, one might even say craving, for men who weren’t (I often heard them use the word) wimps.  Gloria Steinem would go ashen at the sight of this river of liberal-arts cooze virtually throwing themselves at males who hadn’t succumbed to the program and were thus capable of ardor in their fucking, men who were (by feminists definition) pigs.  In fact, the weak-willed males, hand-dog looking with scraggly beards and wire-rimmed glasses, so sympathetic to the feminist struggle, received the major share of female contempt.  They were tolerated as toadies and taken to be as cut-rate dildos.

A dozen years have passed since those disheartening days spent under the specter of stentorian vaginas and pipsqueak penises.  Since then, there seems to have been a gradual return to male and female archetypes, to scenarios of mystery and seduction.  Of the former feminists, the more attractive of them got down to the business of finding and keeping a mate, while, in most cases, the less attractive grew more sophisticated and militant in their man-hatred. Do not presume, amidst these generalities, the disappearance of victimized rhetoric from the lip-glossed mouths of erstwhile suffragettes.  That would be asking too much.  A feminist litany remains ever at hand to badger and browbeat husbands and boyfriends into sheepish admission of egregious maleness.

The browbeaters are what I term the Intergrationist Feminists, those who like their cock on call.  The Segregationist Feminists are harridans who don’t like cock at all.

Malleus

Intercourse – rare 1487 edition

Pachydermlike Andrea Dworkin may be the uncrowned queen of Segregationist Feminism in its present incarnation.  Her book Intercourse has become the touchstone of contemporary feminist theory.  Part literary criticism, part propaganda, and all elegant hysteria, Intercourse was written to further a simple program: to intellectually convince women to avoid the admittance of the male generative organ into connective friction with the vagina.  And that’s not all, fellas.  Don’t touch, but for God’s sake, don’t look, either. Pornography, Dworkin’s earlier tract, advanced her conviction that hardcore pornography and softcore men’s magazines together fuel homicidal violence toward women.  And for all her leftist caterwauling, Dworkin’s authoring of anti-pornography legislation with comrade Catharine MacKinnon has earned her ovations on the dais with the likes of Edwin Meese and Phyllis Schlafly.

Don’t make the mistake of confusing Dworkin’s underdog vocabulary with empathy for anyone but her own kind.  In Intercourse, Dworkin bases her equation of racism with heterosexual sex on the work of James Baldwin, a black homosexual.  (The phallic braggarts of the Black Panthers school she must, of course, pass by without so much as a word.) This is the same Dworkin who spells America with a “K” throughout her books, masking her own tyrannical will to prohibit other people’s happiness with the argot of the oppressed.  She descends to calling vital males “National Socialists” and the women who love them “collaborators.” “That collaboration,” she rants in Intercourse, “fully manifested when a women values her lover, the National Socialist, above any women, anyone of her own kind or class or status, may have simple beginnings: the first act of complicity that destroys self-respect, the capacity for self-determination and freedom – readying the body for the fuck instead of for freedom.” What Dworkin wants is an inversion of loyalty, for women to run to the call of Sappho and Sisterhood and to tar and feather their male oppressors.

It is clear that the abolition of pornography will not suffice as the end goal of Ms. Dworkin’s program.  What will it take to calm Andrea Dworkin, to quell her tirades, to fill the yawning chasm of her sense of injustice?

Men, flop your tube steaks on the chopping blocks.  Dworkin wants your cocks for mulch. Fucking, dilates Dworkin, annihilates the woman, overwhelming her with a sense of possession that ultimately leads to degradation and death. (That is, she allows, when the sex is good.) “That loss of self,” writes Dworkin in the chapter entitled “Possession,” “is a physical reality, not just a psychic vampirism; and as a physical reality it is chilling and extreme, a literal erosion of the body’s integrity and its ability to function and survive… This sexual possession is a sensual state of being that borders on anti-being until it ends in death.  The body dies, or the lover discards the body when it is used up, throws away the old, useless thing, emptied, like an empty bottle.  The body is used up; and the will is raped.”

Intercourse invokes the propaganda technique popularized by Julius Streicher. The enemy is portrayed as a vampire that is at once morally subhuman and yet preternaturally powerful and dangerous.  Dworkin’s full-tilt fictions are not some private exorcism of grief and rage, but rather bellows to fan the flames of righteous hysteria in order to seize, ban, burn, and extirpate.  Because she plays the role of a violated victim, Dworkin is given license to practice what she assails in the penised people, that is, the unleashing of sadistic vengeance on an entire gender and sexual preference.

Edwin_Meese_publicity_shot

Ed Meese – stealth feminist

Remember that Dworkin contributed to the Meese Commission’s inquest on pornography and helped Catharine MacKinnon to enact Canada’s Tariff Code 9956, to ban importation and sale of materials “which depict or describe sexual acts that appear to degrade or dehumanize…” This incredibly broad and subjective code could be interpreted in such a way as to proscribe most books published, including the Bible and Dworkin’s own screeds.  (A Canadian customs agent once seized a shipment of one of Dworkin’s books for several hours but then quickly released them, apologizing for the “mistake.”) In practice, Tariff Code 9956 anally penetrates publishers too penurious to initiate costly lawsuits to fight government seizures, as well as pro-sex lesbian bookshops that made a living selling the now-banned works of Pat Califa and Susie Bright1.

According to the blurbs of praise that fill Intercourse’s book jacket: “…Dworkin analyzes the institution [!] of sexual intercourse, and how that institution, as defined and controlled by patriarchy, has proven to be a devastating enslavement of women” (Robin Morgan); “Dworkin’s prose is elegant, her passion for truth profound, her longing for justice both lyrical and unrelenting, her use of literature and history stunning, her understanding of racism, antisemitism, and misogyny lucid, palpable” (Phyllis Chesler); “The book is outstanding, original, and an act of forbidden rebellion” (Shere Hite2).

Shere Hite, perpetrator of The Hite Report on male and female sexuality, is described by Dworkin in Intercourse as “the strongest feminist and most honorable philosopher among sex researchers…” Dworkin is, of course, grateful for Hite’s statistics which claim that only three women in ten attain orgasm during intercourse.  Dworkin brandishes this statistic to underscore the uselessness of cock for women’s pleasure.  Later, she again quotes Hite’s suggestion for heterosexual sex in which “thrusting would not be considered… necessary… [There might be] more a mutual lying together in pleasure… vagina-covering-penis, with female orgasm providing much of the stimulation necessary for male orgasm.”

Hite’s prescription for thrust-free, “mutual lying together,” “vagina-covering-penis” sex demands complete passivity from the male.  As Hite suggests in bold type in a later chapter of her Hite Report, “Intercourse can become androgynous.” No thrusting and exploring for Hite’s males, no sir, this is woman’s eminent domain.  A man is to lie on his back, hold his breath, and stay perfectly still until the woman has squirmed her way to a cum atop a station and never-threatening-to-be-dominant ding-dong. This is the only mention of a male-female sex procedure that Dworkin even mildly approves of throughout the entire length of Intercourse.  One must assume that Dworkin sanctions this ridiculous posture only as an interim measure designed to wean women of their desire for cock entirely.

One wonders, however, what the porn-thwacking Dworkin must think of nude, cunt-splayed photos taken in 1968 of the massive-muffed and Tampax-stringed Hite that were eventually displayed in Hustler’s April 1977 issue.  Or what Dworkin has to say to Germaine Greer for her toes-to-the-ceiling, cunt-to-the-camera, shenanigans in the Amsterdam sex paper, Suck, in the mid-seventies.

greer

Beware the Troll Queen

I suppose Dworkin was not about to split cunt hairs over the issue, especially with ideological comrades.  All this taken into account, how are we to take Germaine Greer’s blurb on Intercourse’s front cover: “The most shocking book any feminist has yet written.” Shocking in what sense3?  In the quality of the fantasy, its idiocy, or its hatred?

At the risk of contradicting Ms. Greer, the most extreme feminist tract has got to be Valerie Solanas’ S.C.U.M. Manifesto, the handbook of the society for cutting up men.  Solanas, who shot and almost killed Andy Warhol in the late sixties, pleads for women to “destroy the male sex.” Norman Mailer, who quotes from the Manifesto in his meditation on feminist writing, The Prisoner of Sex, provides insight into why the S.C.U.M. Manifesto was reprinted in the popular feminist anthropology, Sisterhood is Powerful: “…the S.C.U.M. Manifesto, while extreme, even extreme of the extreme, in nonetheless a magnetic north for Women’s Lib.” Though Dworkin neglects to list the S.C.U.M. Manifesto in her extensive bibliography at the end of Intercourse, the spirit of Solanas’s mandate is ever-present.

Just as humans have a prior right to existence over dogs by virtue of being more highly evolved and having a superior consciousness, so women have a prior right to existence over men.  The elimination of any male is, therefore, a righteous and good act, an act highly beneficial to women as well as an act of mercy.  (The S.C.U.M. Manifesto, p. 67.)

Magnetic north of the women’s movement?  Consider the Bobbitt case, in which Lorena’s psychotic cock-cutting episode was elevated to a heroic call to action by various feminist groups4; consider that bootleg pamphlets of the S.C.U.M. Manifesto have been circulating in women’s bookstores for more than twenty years.  Dworkin doesn’t have Solanas’s humor or her damningly explicit methodology of attaining an anti-male utopia, but she possesses the ingenuity of a modern major general.  She knows how to employ all the weapons of a propaganda war; how to incite, persuade, and, most of all, bully.

Although Dworkin resembles the steatopygous Earth Mother, she doesn’t pay much attention to the technology-equals-patriarchy argument of Wiccan feminism.  For Dworkin, technology will provide the way out of heterosexuality and intercourse:

It is not that there is no way out of it, for instance,if one were to establish or believe that intercourse itself determines women’s lower status.  New reproductive technologies have changed and will continue to change the nature of the world.  Intercourse is not necessary to existence anymore.  Existence does not depend on female compliance, nor on the violation of female boundaries, nor on lesser female privacy, nor on the physical occupation of the female body.  Intercourse is the pure, sterile, formal expression of men’s contempt for women; but that contempt can turn gothic and express itself in many sexual and sadistic practices that eschew intercourse per se. Any violation of a woman’s body can become sex for men; this is the essential truth of pornography.

It is indeed strange for the morbidly obese, pus-ugly Andrea Dworkin to localize sexual intercourse as man’s greatest expression of contempt for women.  If forced at gunpoint to fuck Andrea Dworkin, my “contempt” for her would not reveal itself in a robust erection; to the contrary, my shrivel-dick would require the services of a geeklike proxy, such as those seen servicing the glandular atrocities in the Life in the Fat Lane porn video series.

John-Stoltenberg

John Stoltenberg –
DIY eunuch

In one of those weird twists of fate, Dworkin’s real-life “platonic” live-in mate, John Stoltenberg, is rumored to be a biological male5.  Stoltenberg is infamous in New York City’s publishing community as Dworkin’s rabid lap dog, conveying threats and intimidation to those who do not indulge the whims of his tyrannical mentor.  Dworkin’s big-footed imprint is seen all over Stoltenberg’s unintentionally hilarious books, Refusing to be a Man and The End of Manhood, which rather vainly inveigh against such biological verities as male genitalia and testosterone.  Stoltenberg is the embodiment of one of Valerie Solanas’s “Men’s Auxiliary” members: “S.C.U.M. will conduct Turd Sessions,” wrote Solanas, “at which every male present will give a speech beginning with the sentence: ‘I am a turd, a lowly, abject turd,” then proceed to list all the ways in which he is one.”

Perhaps it is unfair to lump Dworkin in the feminist category, for her turgid hysteria has more in common with Carry Nation or the Maquis de Sade than Susan B. Anthony.  Nowhere in Dworkin’s writings or public appearances does she argue for the accumulation of rights or opportunities.  That would be too dull for her.  Recently I enjoyed the opportunity of seeing Dworkin lecture at Portland State University, where she recounted atrocity stories, cried, and flapped her arms, screaming for vengeance.  But the shrill passion didn’t succeed in whipping up inquisitional hysteria in the pampered and comfortable middle-class femme contingent, probably for many of the same reasons why the JDL hasn’t yet convinced Beverly Hills yentas to assassinate Holocaust Revisionists.  Only a small portion of Dworkin’s audience later participated in a march to a local jerk-off arcade, where a handful of bulldykes startled the raincoat rats with unladylike epithets.  Too bad Andrea was too circumspect to take the axe to the poop booths.

Those who most treasure Dworkin’s hysteria aren’t mainstream feminists but prohibitionist paper-pushers and the fundamentalist right.  I’ve envisioned a scene fit for a Jodorowsky movie in which Richard Viguerie and Jesse Helms go down on Dworkin and MacKinnon on a bed of severed penises.

In the end, it is understandable for Andrea Dworkin to wield the cudgel of victim politics against men.  In our “rape culture,” women like Dworkin aren’t worthy of the trivialization accorded sex objects.  They are rejected utterly.  This rejection has obviously left its mark on Andrea Dworkin; it has honed a vengeful and crusading intelligence bent on evening the score. Let us not weaken and pity the Gorgon; the fig leaf of victimization is creating victims of us all.

==============================================================================
IBFT: If we hate you, you don’t deserve to know why.

Information:
bleed@unix.amherst.edu
ftp.etext.org:/pub/Zines/IBFT  The Eleventh Hour
==============================================================================

0 – From the Vassar College newspaper archives:

http://newspaperarchives.vassar.edu/cgi-bin/vassar?a=d&d=miscellany19900413-01.2.27

1 – The Canadian laws spawned by Dworkin/MacKinnon essentially created the same climate of hysteria, idiocy and fear that is currently being rammed down our throats by PZ Myers and Becky Watson. Whilst some will argue that “obscene”, “hateful” and “threatening” publications do need some kind of regulatory controls, the problem has always been in defining what constitutes such material. What Dworkinnon achieved further confused the problem to ludicrous excess – in effect, they greyed the boundaries of such material to the point that, given a little imagination, any material beyond the bounds of a vanilla, middle-class sitcom could be framed as obscene or hateful. This scenario is straight from the Myers/Watson play book. The demographics that were impacted the most, paradoxically, were not those of the PatriarchalConspiracy™ – but of the gay, lesbian and trans communities… The path to hell, as they say, is paved with good intentions.

Dworkinnon, of course, denied any responsibility to the point of issuing a press release –

STATEMENT BY CATHARINE A. MACKINNON
AND ANDREA DWORKIN REGARDING CANADIAN CUSTOMS
AND LEGAL APPROACHES TO PORNOGRAPHY

Others, such as former ACLU president Nadine Strossen disagreed –

Big Sister is watching you (The Advocate 14 Nov 1995)

There is also a plethora of real-time documentation to be found in Usenet postings from that period –

http://www.mit.edu/activities/safe/results/canada-more-gay-ban

2 – Hite is a curious endorsee. She is generally pro-sex, and while a keen advocate of non-penatrative female orgasm, she is not against good old fashioned bestial fucking either. And as mentioned further on, she got her baps out for Playboy and flaps out for Hustler. These notes are, and should be, irrelevant to everyone in a non-insane society. BUT, they do need noting as clear examples of the double standards and selective blindness typical to all gender hystericists in their selective application of patriarchy smashing hellfire. Dworkin found extracts from Hite to be bias confirming and cites her liberally – therefore a blind eye could be turned. Absolutely NSFW link –

http://vintage-erotica-forum.com/t29315-p204-big-hairy-pussy-challenge.html

3 – Seriously… who knows what Germaine actually thinks about anything? She is the Queen of Trolls. She yanks chains and sniggers at the knuckleheads that take her preposterous outbursts as though they are secret wisdom from the Delphic Oracle they are too dumb to understand, so it is best to stay silent. I have a love/hate relationship woth Germaine, always have. The pendulum is currently biased towards love after her comments on Julia Gillard’s arse –

.

4 – Not that much has changed. Two peripherally relevant links –

http://haveuheard.net/2011/07/sharon-osbourne-says-dont-cut-mans-penis/

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qnXCPcq_RTY

On a historical note about how gender neutral the legal system is – Lorena Bobbitt was found not guilty due to insanity. Around the same time, Jeffrey Dahmer’s insanity plea was denied.

5 – Stoltenberg is one of the poster boys for the Conscious Men movement (aka – toilet slaves).

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