Category Archives: Equal Rights

Girls, it’s not the distraction, it’s the erection.

Memo: regarding females protesting being told they are a distraction in school because of their clothes.

The truth has been kept hidden for so long, that many actually believe it is about the girls. That they should be sent home, lectured to, and covered up. But deep down we all know this is bull. Even when females wore loads of clothing, from cap covered heads to floor length skirt, males would fall into slobbering fits over the sight of a boot covered ankle, a bit of bare wrist, so it’s not how revealing clothing is.

It’s about the erection. Someone had to say it.

Newly minted teenage boys get fed-exed truckloads of hormones, and even when there is nothing remotely sexy going on, for example, he can be sitting with grandma while Matlock is on, and the hormones can begin to fight for their right to party. The male is now horrified and uncomfortable, not just because grandma is there but because the dress slacks he’s wearing are from last year. Mom refused to buy more because he’s growing out of them all the time and grandma won’t care if your hems are awaiting a flood.
Suddenly it’s very tight in places that only moments ago were not and Male A doesn’t know if he should get up and hide in the bathroom, stay put in case someone sees the bulge, or try to think of how to make it go away. He doesn’t know what to do. Men, remembering those embarrassing moments have fought long and hard, no pun, to hide this secret and put the blame on females, instead of teaching boys how to cope.

It’s been happening for so long now that most have begun to believe it really is about the female in the tank top, or the hoop skirt that flashes the bottom edge of petticoats. That’s how long this shit has been going on. Enough already. Now the erection truth is out. Girls, this is what happens to boys. It’s nothing to do with you. You want proof? It happens in their sleep while dreaming about nothing even remotely sexy. Damn hormones never stop fucking with all of us.

That includes girls. Sure we don’t have appendages springing up and crowding our pants, but that doesn’t mean we don’t get our own deliveries of hormones that try to throw righteous parties during algebra. Those early teen years are fraught with trying to act like a regular school kid while the urge to do things you used to think were gross, tries to overwhelm you. It’s nothing short of madness.

We all deserve a medal for getting through those years.

If you’re a boy and you find this to be happening to you, get a grip on it, (again, no pun intended) and figure out how to manage your penis and hormones. They are YOURS, no one can do it for you, and you’ll have them forever (ideally). It is no one else’s problem to solve but your own. Stop blaming girls. Talk to your friends, read a health book, go on-line. Do not get taken in by a porn site, this will not help.

Sure I know the music industry, Alcohol industry, The American Car Association, swimming pool corporations, clothing for both sexes, pretty much every thing that can be sold, has been marketed to us as if it’s all about the female form, but listen up, you cannot trust those fuckers. They just want to sell you something. Look at what the cigarette industry sold us. Is throat cancer sexy? No. Would James Dean, or (enter name of every hot young man or female since beginning of time here) have been sexy without a cigarette? Uh, the answer is YES.

And if you’re a schoolteacher telling yourself, and girls in your class, that they are distracting you with their bodies, You. Need. Help. You are no longer a pre-teen or teenage boy, and it is unacceptable for you to be stuck in that mindset. You’ve bought into the lie for so long you’re on the cusp of becoming a felon. Wake up and get control of yourself.

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finding my humanity

I just saw some man’s post (on FB) about how there’s always been conflict in the middle east, specifically he meant the Israel and Palestinian issue, and he doesn’t care. He wishes they’d stop so his gas prices would go down and he calls them all assholes and so on and so forth. And what struck me was that I used to feel that way, when I wasn’t seeing anyone on either side as humans.

And I am ashamed.

Not that long ago, “They” were just these strange Un-American war mongers in a part of the world I couldn’t be bothered to remember where exactly it was on a map. I’m pretty certain my Anthro teacher would say I was being ethnocentric.

Yes. That’s just the tip of the iceberg of my apathy to humans who live far away, and have cultures I couldn’t be bothered to understand. Until I did. Heck, I study ancient cultures for FUN, why not living, breathing, “They do what?!”, “They eat WHAT?” cultures, because until I start making inroads to understanding other ways of thinking, I’ll just keep thinking the same old things I’ve always thought, and how will my children learn to care for anyone different than us (U.S.) if I am not an example? It could happen yes, but it has a higher chance of happening if I wade into that murky, unknown first.

Wrestling with the change I want to see

My lesson to contemplate today is, People everywhere, especially the people I tell myself I don’t like, that I see as wrong and hate-filled, are exactly the people I need to love.

Not that anyone in particular told me to consider this idea.  It came to me.  Or maybe it’s been building up over time.  Either way, my knee-jerk response is, “Really?” thick with sarcasm, and wanting to list and underline the actions and thoughts I find so reprehensible, as if to say, “See!? How could anyone love someone like that?”

I’d rather sit with arms crossed or fingers pointing, and forget that that’s exactly what ‘they’ are thinking about those I already love.  And probably me too.  If I want ‘them’ to look beyond what scares them, and see the beauty in others, as people who deserve rights (for example) as everyone else, then don’t I need to do the same?

I feel like one of the creatures in Dr. Seuss’ story, The Zax, unwilling to alter my course and so never moving forward.





An Equal Rights surprise

This morning, as I was in line to exit the drive-through where parents drop kids off for school, the driver of the car in front of me got out and sprinted in my direction.  My first thought was she was going to tell me a brake light was out, or something to that effect, as she had been in the loop first and at some point was behind me.

Anyway, there I was, glad I had put a baseball cap over my bed head, and was wearing actual  clothes instead of a coat over pajamas, when I saw a small book in her hand and felt my warning hackles rise a little.  I do live in conservative-ville, where people think hypnosis is how I steal souls for the devil.  The strangers I see regularly in my day-to-day activities invite me to attend church with them, and after I say no, they never smile and wave again.  If this woman was going to invite me to ‘worship’ with her, it would be my first drive-by invitation.

She got close enough that there was no mistaking she wanted to talk to me and I let the window down, trying out a good morning smile.  She thanked me for having a Human Rights Campaign sticker on the back of my car.  It’s a blue equal sign, and it’s on the back window so it can’t be missed.  Now, all too aware of my coffee breath, I nodded, smiled and said something along the lines of “Sure thing.  Thank you.”  She fast walked back to her car and I’ve been happily stunned ever since, imagining this town populated with people who believe in equal rights for all.

I have seen other cars sporting the sticker here, it’s rare, and one time I was so thrilled to spot one, I honked and waved.  Sure that driver probably thought I was high, and had mistaken them for a brownie, but I had to show my solidarity.  Today I was on the receiving end of that same idea and it felt good.  Happy Wednesday.