Women on the internet. Or: What the actual fuck?

Here’s another view on the current hate against women on the internet. Seriously, I urge everyone to read it. To understand it. To do their own research and form an opinion that’s open and honest. The internet is meant to connect the world, to bring everyone together. To share and enjoy. To not only exclude, but pushing away women, is madness. People responsible are not only those threatening, but also all of us who do not speak up, don’t look into the issue, and aren’t passionate about supporting those that deserve it. Need it. Internet bullying turns into violent threats. Threats of rape. Of murder. Against the targets and against their families. Read those articles. Listen to these women.

And this (also linked in the article below) is the threats this brave woman received. Warning: mature and disturbing content: 


Don’t cry out about, “But not all men are …”. No. They aren’t. But this is not about men. This is about women and violence against them. Don’t make the women yet another object in a talk about men as subject. Violent, cultural norms against women are the subject of the debate. I don’t care if you are a good guy. If you are: stand up and speak out. Call out the assholes. The psychopaths. The haters. Be a real man. For the sake of your mother. Or your wife. Or sister. Or daughter. Or co-worker. Or friend. Women are everywhere. They should not be afraid of men, but feel the same safety and generosity they’re willing to share with us. Equality and all that.

Anyone believing this is not as bad as it is needs to reconsider their position. Reconsider their involvement with the issue of violence against women. This happening online is just the modern projection of misogynistic hate-crimes. From male entitlement that a woman “owes something” to them, to the statements of men (and other women) that woman who gets raped “must have deserved it”. Don’t believe me. Please. Look it up. Look into it. I dare you.

This is ludicrous. Women are (spoiler warning) People. People like any other human being. Treat them with respect. Treat people as people, not as gender or race of faith.

If this level of hate is reached from talking about video games, what do you think will happen when women speak about real-world issues, such as politics, religion, war and money? How far will this go? How far are you willing to let it go?

If you feel the need to be “a real man”, be a fucking real man and support those that to ought to be supported. Don’t hate against them. Don’t get angry or offended by the too-obvious truth.

This is happening.

Do not look away.

Speak up.

Breaking all ties

These stupid, no-good pieces of shit. These damned to all hell stones in my grinding gears. A rip-off, in every sense of the way.

I’m talking about the plastic straps on garbage bags. These useless ties, with their danger-tape red, or caution-yellow. With their wrinkled hole to be pulled from, delivering agonizing resistance to that very act.

Patience-defying straps of doom. I loathe them. Loathe them with my soul.

I fumble and fumble and somehow–God knows how–get a grip on one side of the garbage bag strap. Oh, but the other side wants to play hide-and-fucking-seek. It won’t show up, folded nice and needly somewhere in-between two layers of black plastic. Somewhere in the folds of space-time. In oblivion.

Then, by the grace of the gods, I find the second end and pull. Gently, because this ain’t my first rodeo. Though, all for naught. Karma hates me. Fate hates me. The damned string rips–no matter what. No matter how gentle. No matter what brand. They all rip. And tear. And freak me the-fuck-out.

Strap–defier of the tie-up. Once again, I’m defeated. One piece of strap still in my clutch, the other still attached to the bag, and a garbage bag threatening to tip over by the force of the misjudged pull. Ready to spill, like the tears from eyes.

Ye Gods, we can sent a robot to mars. Why can’t we invent a garbage bag strap that isn’t the utter-most feeble and weak construct ever designed by humankind?

I’m angry now.