Lady Pride


In fact, like every member of an oppressed class, she herself participates in the insulting of others like herself, hoping thereby to make it obvious that she as an individual is above their behavior. (The Dialectic of sex, Shulamith Firestone)

The amount of righteousness women show just to pump themselves a little higher over the other bitches is disgusting. What we all do to distance ourselves as much as possible from this shameful position called woman. We all try to keep our mouths clean and pretend that we don’t suck dick. Lets not fool ourselves, we all suck dick one way or the other. We suck it directly, or some of us suck it ‘indirectly’, through careers, the little miserable victories of the western capitalist gals.

The fact is that we all suck it, yet some of us pretend to not by distancing ourselves from this ‘shameful’ labor, we also distance ourselves from the other shameful laborers. As we step over the women who remind us of our immanent structures, we elevate ourselves in class. The most despicable is when we take pride in this distancing, as if we have managed to not be part of the exchange, as if the structures of the ‘workplace’ are not the same exact structures of the family of the white man. The division of the women’s lot happens when we start to take pride in our oppression, proud mothers and wives are identical here to the proud career girls. Through (y)our little victories you elevate (y)ourself from the women below, from the ones who choose to, or have no other choice but to suck the dick directly, to except exchange with no illusions, gravity with no grace, without promotions or academic achievements, radical (art) cred or little romantic getaways, sweet talk or roses. (Y)our ‘privilege’ and thus (y)our blindness (whichever we choose to call it) is that you suck dick on the premise, in His art galleries, business, political meetings, journals and lecture halls, etc. Not only do you (also, as the rest of us) suck it on the daily basis, but you also take pride in it, Lady Pride.

You define your work as superior labor by condemning all the rest for (y)our weakness or ‘heartlessness’; for not choosing  to make (y)ourselves independent of the ‘abusive’ man, or for calculatingly relying on them for the exchange. What you miss, as you are blinded by your little managerial, artistic, romantic and academic victories is that you are just as dependent on the same abusive men, the only difference is that you have us to transfer your anxieties and to help you forget. You have us, who with no illusions, and/or no choices, simply work. We serve you both, we suck him and empathize with you, while you simply take pride, your Lady Pride.  As we do your emotional labor you disregard our bottomless hate, desperation and desires, sometimes calling it selfish, unnecessarily dramatic, as if we were your pet bunny gone mean. But the problem is that as you dismiss our desperations, you at the same time demand of us to be there and pity you when things go wrong, when the career is a drag and the man is not nice. You want us to listen and feel sad for you, just so that you get your strength back, refreshed by our compassion you get right back to your lady pride and move on, leaving us behind. You use our emotions for your knowledge, just so you stomp all over us and reach for the bigger man.

And we listen and we empathize, we feel sad every time, because we know that you too are part of the same structure that we are so disillusioned with. And we listen… because we also know that you suck the same men’s dick whether you know it or not. And we wait for you to wake up, knowing that there is no way to handle our frustration because there is no way to handle it, short of revolution.