i hate when guys say shit like “why would you cut your hair? guys dont like girls with short hair” thats like watching someone else make a sandwich for their self and saying “why are you putting tomatoes in it? i dont like tomatoes”
Brittany, 28, Colorado
I was 21 when a routine physical showed that I was pregnant. I fainted when I found out. I was on the Depo-Provera shot and in a committed relationship. I was also going to college, working full time and decided to end the pregnancy. I wasn’t ready physically, emotionally or financially to be a parent. I spoke to a woman at the clinic who asked if I needed an escort from my car on the day of my appointment. My aunt and best friend were accompanying me, so I said no. But then she told me to call if I was having trouble. I asked, “Why?” She paused and said, “Just please call if you are having any issues.”
I was the first appointment that day and noticed a few men, all in their 50s or 60s, milling around the parking lot when we pulled in. Once we got out of the car, one made a beeline for us with a fistful of pamphlets. My aunt said, “Thanks, but no thanks,” and he got irate, screaming, “How can you do this? You’re killing your baby to continue on your whore lifestyle, you jezebel!’ Suddenly we were surrounded by five other men — that’s when the baby-doll parts starting hitting us.
They had a box filled with torn apart baby dolls covered with red paint. All three of us were hit — in the head, chest, torso. As they were pelting us, they yelled, “This is what you’re doing to your baby! Look at the street! It’s strewn with the blood of your baby. That’s your baby scattered across the street!” It was surreal and terrifying at once. And we still had to cross a wide street to enter the clinic. Then they shouted at my aunt, “Grandma, why are you letting her do this? Tell her to give her baby up for adoption!” My aunt responded, “First of all, I’m not old enough to be a grandma. Second, come talk to me when you have a uterus and a vagina.”
I thought I’d feel better once inside the clinic. But as I sat in the waiting area, I could hear every single girl get out of her car and do that walk of shame. That was the worst part of the day. When the doctor pulled up later that morning, there was such a frenzy the building almost shook. I heard them shouting, “Murderer!” and “Butcher!” and my heart started racing all over again.
I was the first to see the doctor. After he went over the procedure with me, he asked, “Do you have any questions?” I said, “Are they going to be there when I leave? — not, “Is there any pain?” or “How long will it take to recover?” He said, “No. After I arrive, they disperse.” That was true, and I was grateful. I would have stayed until they left. I couldn’t go through that again.
But there was one good thing the protesters did that morning: They convinced me I was making the right decision. I bet every single woman inside that waiting room felt the same way, even though none of us spoke. We’d all just been through the most heinous experience, but there was a feeling of quiet satisfaction among this group of women amidst the horror. I thought, “If I can make it through that, I can make it through the rest of this day.”
do you ever think about how fucked you’d be in medieval times with your weak eyesight, asthma and homosexual tendencies
Aaaaaaaallllllll the time.
Ever since the 4th grade science experiment where they turned us loose to find colored toothpicks in the grass but first they took my glasses. We were metaphorical birds and I metaphorical died.
I’d be ok as long as I could grow poppies. And didn’t need 3D vision.
folks would be fine cos people tend to live in fucking communities and help each other and i’d like to think most people wouldn’t take a kid’s glasses away to make some fuckass stupid libertarian point about how awesome shit is now
it’s shitty biology as well as shitty morality
lens grinding is super new but humans are maybe thirty-fifty thousand years old shitty vision can’t possibly be as common a trait as it is if people with it starved to death in childhood
for fuck’s sake i hate this bullshit
There are so many more realistic dangers available to you why would you presume that you’d die from weak eyesight?
Asthma might be a legit concern, but then so would simple fevers and infections.
Plus there’s the thing where you don’t necessarily need 20/20 vision. Going without my glasses in modern times is an issue because it prevents me from being able to read signs an suchlike, which would hardly have been an issue in medieval times. Knitting can be done darn near blind (actually blind, if you’re good enough and have someone sort the colors for you). You might be surprised how much cooking a blind person can do as well. Simple near or far-sightedness wouldn’t prevent the ability to do most manual labor.
We don’t have any money to save, and even if we did, we’ve spent our entire lives watching the value of it drop.
If my dollar is going to be worth 95 cents next year, shouldn’t I use it now?
tcharlatan, dropping a perfectly succinct summation of why people living in the new economy don’t manage our money the way people who enjoyed last generation’s economy think we should and why old economic advice is often N/A bullshit.
If you step on my foot, you need to get off my foot.
If you step on my foot without meaning to, you need to get off my foot.
If you step on my foot without realizing it, you need to get off my foot.
If everyone in your culture steps on feet, your culture is horrible, and you need to get off my foot.
If you have foot-stepping disease, and it makes you unaware you’re stepping on feet, you need to get off my foot. If an event has rules designed to keep people from stepping on feet, you need to follow them. If you think that even with the rules, you won’t be able to avoid stepping on people’s feet, absent yourself from the event until you work something out.
If you’re a serial foot-stepper, and you feel you’re entitled to step on people’s feet because you’re just that awesome and they’re not really people anyway, you’re a bad person and you don’t get to use any of those excuses, limited as they are. And moreover, you need to get off my foot.
See, that’s why I don’t get the focus on classifying harassers and figuring out their motives. The victims are just as harassed either way.
The comment is in reference to sexual harassment that occurred at the Readercon convention and the subsequent defense of the situation by some members of fandom and the Readercon Board.
It’s also applicable to other situations where someone claims their intentions were pure and they didn’t mean to do something sexist/racist/heterosexist/abelist, etc. Even if you did not mean to step on someone’s foot—you did.