Monday, February 20, 2006
I read this Smoking Gun piece several days ago, but have not posted on it earlier. I'm still confused on whether discussing it has any point at all from a feminist point of view. The man in the story is unable to see women as anything but toys that really should stay in their original packaging while not being in use. What the woman in the story is incapable of doing is perhaps where the feminist analysis would be most useful, but the original post doesn't tell us anything much on that, except for the fact that she didn't sign the contract of wifely obligations. But she married the arsehole.
We get into the whole gray area of the difference between sexual game playing and real world oppression here, and I'm not ready to talk about my views on that, except for the fact that toys don't have a real world experience at all, and that game playing should mean just that: "playing". This story is not about something playful. It is about something disgusting.
After some pointless dithering I've decided to post this short explanation and to let you talk it out in the comments should you wish to do so. Maybe I will learn something.