On rape culture


she was probably just a drunk whore who was ashamed of the sex she had the next morning

Die in a fire.

(In reference to this previous post about a woman struggling to find any source of authority that believed she was raped. The following post does not mean to address her brusque response, but the motivation behind the above question given the hellish rape-Catch-22 of the original submission.)

It’s not that women never lie, it’s not that men always lie. It’s about how we created a world where any victim is suspect. Why do we suspect victims? When did we become so panicky that we hear about someone in trouble and our first thought is “how can I resolve this for myself” rather than “how can I resolve this for this other person, who either is a victim or is suffering in some other way that she feels the need to represent herself as a victim?”

While all oppressed groups deserve more attention from those in power, these conversations do not have to serve just one person in our own minds. We all hear “feminism” and “rape culture” and presume that the points being scored are for an in-group. Even though those labels are necessary for the movement and clarification’s sake, they scare. And they scare because none of us want to give any ground.

What can be done to reveal the greater good here? How do we keep the end-game in sight as we, day-to-day, make small compromises in our own will to power and survival? What can I do through comedy/writing/culture that overturns this message of fear that continues to avalanche upon us all trying to get by?

Dear Coquette: On context


Okay. I heard this one the other day, but from someone who is normal and did not care exactly what the argument is. “Having sex in the context of the patriarchy is inherently sexist.” I wish I could inform you more so you could shred it to pieces.

Meh. In the context of the patriarchy, you…

This quick Dear Coke Talk update hits me at an important moment. For the past couple of weeks I’ve felt like I’m reaching the end of my rope when it comes to writing about *spooky voice* soooociaaa~aaallll justiiiiice. I never want to see my own tumblr as a chronicle of established cultural racist/sexist moments, I try to break new ground in every post I make. Convincing myself that I’m “learning” when I babble for 2000 words about topics like Shibe memes normalizing violence is a big part of why I do it in the first place (it’s not like I have an audience to sway). I’m at a point where, if I’m honest with myself, I’m hitting diminished returns: the specific topics that compel me are getting too nuanced to be practical for haphazard, non-organized discussion.

The timing makes sense, as most of the faceless tumblrinas I’ve argued with over the past weeks are egalitarians: members of a movement developed in reaction to the extremism of various meninists and feminists, regardless of the moderate tenets of either. It’s hard for me to find a fresher, contemporary shift in feminism… But it’s not like it’s bringing anything new to the table. It actually signifies the end of the line, as its existence is contingent on a crop of nemeses who have taken their respective movements too far. With the egalitarians (practiced as preached), we end up with a movement that respects and enforces reasonable aims on both sides and calls out those off the deep end.

Unfortunately, as far as I can tell, many self-identified egalitarians join the cause because they believe that right now, while we should all be equal, women are making way more trouble than men. Egalitarians and MRAs alike will take Dworkin-esque male-genocidal theoretical concepts like the one quoted and treat ‘em as the Feminist Ten Commandments. This always upsets me, because what’s my response to that? “No, that’s not real feminism!” or, even worse, “you’re taking it too literally!!!”

But Coke Talk gets it. She reminds me that you draw your own lines, that you realize, instinctually, when someone refuses to be thoughtful. That the idea of “all sex is rape” means that humans turned sex into a power play, and not “all women think men are rapists” (that’s where I stare at the MRA/egalitarian side of the room) or “every man is a rapist” (I turn my glare toward the stewing radfems).

I should only fight for my beliefs when my beliefs are challenged, and these days it happens less and less. Perhaps that’s why I’m goading people on tumblr lately: some last, painful gasps from my self-doubt.

Dear Coquette: On context



When I Grow Up – Garbage

If we’re gonna consult 90’s era vocalists for their opinions on Miley Cyrus, I’d much rather hear what Shirley Manson has to say.

Goddammit Coke Talk, you don’t just inspire me to be a good, strong, cynical force of nature, you inspire me to re-download Garbage’s discography. This band was once so important to me that I saw them at the Tabernacle at the age of 14, recognizing all the songs. I’m pretty sure they fell off the face of my earth after that. I missed them. Here’s to all the garbage of the world.



Steve McQueen (Alluxe Remix) – M83

I caught Alluxe’s performance last night at The Virgil, and damn, can that girl lay down some sick beats.

Ah fuck Coke Talk was four blocks away from my home.

M83’s space haze mixed with some trap drum machines make this into something like danceable witch-house. Doesn’t make me any less disappointed about not being around one of my inspirations.

Dear Coquette: On being undecided


What if I’ve decided to not vote for either candidate for President? I deeply believe in the democratic system but can’t bring myself to stand behind either candidate. Am I wrong for thinking that I’m better off voting for a third-party candidate, even though ultimately it won’t change the…

While I agree with Coke Talk, I’d also like to speak to another idea: every vote does count. If you vote for Obama in Georgia, he may be handily trounced by the Republicans throughout the state, but you’re still demonstrating that it’s worth campaigning there. You’re showing Democrats that, hey, if you move to Georgia at some point in the future, there will be at least some likeminded folks, and you can find them in these counties with these proportions. Your vote demonstrates to yourself and those around you that you care, and creates added pressure on you/your community to maintain the tradition of voting in future elections.

And the effect of all of this is compounded by voting for an alternate candidate that stands for what you stand for.

Dear Coquette: On being undecided

Dear Coquette: On taking a joke.


I can take a joke on the nose. Really, I can. So why am I slightly slighted at Louis CK jumping to the defense of this Tosh asshole? (let’s be honest, Tosh is about as funny as Carrot Top) Yuck.

So, why am I a little peeved that the one comedian I have a shred of respect for is jumping to the…

Louis C.K. does not try to marginalize rape when he defends Daniel Tosh, but he does; Daniel Tosh’s continuing success shows people that you can yell about rape at an individual and still make millions of dollars a year and have a TV show and famous friends. Louis C.K. contributes to that image. The circle of life.

My disagreement with his decision does not mean I am boycotting Louis C.K. In fact, I’ll probably forget his involvement by next month. I can’t get too worked up about him, because I recognize what his role is in all this. (Not to mention that I probably contribute to the patriarchy by 8am what he does in a week lol)

I would bet that Louis doesn’t like that the public opinion of a damn famous comedian has been struck so hard by a somewhat unverified account written by a unknown blogger. Lenny Bruce was put out of work and, well… killed by his obscenity trials. It worries me a little too, and even with the tone of my last piece, I want to make it known that I’m not calling for Daniel Tosh’s head. I’m calling for our society’s head. (And then remaining on the futon in my basement, so far from galvanized)

Dear Coquette: On taking a joke.

Coke Talk of the Day


Remember when you were a kid, no impulse control whatsoever, unable to resist even the slightest temptation to fuck shit up?

Remember the first time in your life you got your grubby little hands on the volume knob of a gut-thumping stereo as it blasted your favorite dance song?

Remember how you thought that by jerking that volume knob along with the beat you were somehow imparting your own whomping thrust into the rhythm of the music?

Yeah. That’s dubstep.

Mutual disdain of dubstep is enough grounds to marry a person, right?

True love knows no bounds.

Oh, and one more thing. You may not be a carbon copy of the local beauty standards, but that doesn’t mean you’re not pretty. You don’t know it, but I guarantee, every day you’re surrounded by people who think you’re hot.

Dear Coke Talk reiterates the blindingly obvious but difficult to accept.

I suppose this is my monthly DCT plug.

If all you can say is, “I really care about the girl,” that isn’t even close to enough. You better love that crazy bitch with every last ounce of douche you’ve got coursing through your veins.

“On Trying Long Distance” from Dear Coke Talk.

This is a subject that Mizz CT has covered before, but she really lays it on with some beautiful language and an unparalleled fervor right here. I’ve always appreciated how she, despite being incredibly pragmatic and rational, still also managed to pull off, with the greatest of grace, the least rational of situations: the long-distance relationship.