Adventures of a slack jawed bafoon; or, How I became a feminist
As a teenager I had a long commute to high school via a rural school bus route. At over six feet tall, I could barely fit in the seat. I used to read The Portable Nietzsche, the thick volume wedged between my cramped knees. (Take a second to think about that sentence.) It gave me the oppurtunity to fimiliarize myself with Top 40 country music. In a way, I was lucky it was not a right wing talk station, but isn’t Top 40 Country just the musicalized version of right wing talk radio? Think about Nietzsche. I came to realize that all the songs by female artists were about males, in particular lamenting the loss of a male or pining for a male. What completed the subjects in all these songs were males. It was like women didn’t count unless they were in a relationship with a man. The only way they could be validated was via a man. I thought, well, that is really kind of sick. I wondered what sort of example this was setting for young girls. I wondered how this was effecting girls unconsciously. This is also the first is instance when I realized that popular culture was a vehicle for capitalist ideology, but I wouldn’t have framed it those terms at the time. There was an unambigious message: girls were being told to settle down, get married, and have kids. After these small (maybe large) revelations, I started listening specifically to the lyrical content of songs by male artists. A lot of songs were “love” songs with same lamenting-loss / pining-for dichotomy of the songs performed by females. But the male artists were also permitted other songs: songs about guns, beer, tractors, trucks, and sports. The luxury of an objective self was not permitted to female artists. The male artists were allowed to have hobbies, interests, and thoughts not related to “love.” Often too this privledged zone of thought was defined in opposition to females or stereotyped female interests. In short, within this entire genre of popular music women were denied personhood. I felt that was disturbing and disgusting.
That’s how became a feminist.
I have to go beat a faggot with a bat now. Thanks Nietzsche. Slack jawed bafoon.
