Title of Talk: From the Personal is Political to the Personal is Personal: Neo-liberalism and the Defanging of Feminism.

Gail Dines, PhD Professor of Sociology and Women’s Studies, Wheelock College, Boston, MA. Author of Pornland: How Porn has Hijacked our Sexuality, July 2012.

(Source: exgynocraticgrrl, via shannonwest)


Dear Cathy, Mother of Frustration, Pray For Us Now In Our Hour Of Darkness.


Dear Cathy, Mother of Frustration, Pray For Us Now In Our Hour Of Darkness.




Geraldine Finn | “Why Althusser Killed His Wife” | Why Althusser Killed His Wife: Essays on Discourse and Violence

“(the couple’s friends? Who constitutes a couple, I wonder. What constitutes a friend?)”

Geraldine Finn wrote an essay (that I think is actually in this book, but I read it in a collection called Relocating Cultural Studies a number of years ago) titled “Why Are There No Great Women Postmodernists” — a la “Why Have There Been No Great Women Artists?” by Linda Nochlin — that really shaped my perspective on both reading and producing theory. At the end of it, she basically says that everyone should spend at least one year reading only theory produced by women, an experiment that I’ve been engaged in with fiction for this whole year, helped along by people like elanormcinerney and Emily Books and so forth. 

Anyways, I’ve never come across anything else she’s written, and now I kind of want to buy this book.

(via gowns)



I shoot the old man who followed my 11-yr-old body on Smithfield St/because I smiled at him/because it was Xmas/ I shoot the man who jacked-off/on the bricks of our house/put a ladder to my window when I was 12/I shoot the professor who said my work was illogical, then used me for publicity…

"There is also an enormous fear of quotas to help get more women into positions of power. This is also curious to me. Quotas are not new. Indeed, until relatively recently, there was a worldwide 100% quota that reserved all positions of power, authority and privilege for men. This was regarded as natural, normal and unexceptional."

JANE CARO LOOK AT YOU OH MY GOD (via sprinkledwords)

"I treat myself like I would my daughter. I brush her hair, wash her laundry, tuck her in goodnight. Most importantly, I feed her. I do not punish her. I do not berate her, leave tears staining her face. I do not leave her alone. I know she deserves more.
I know I deserve more."

— Michelle K., I Know I Deserve More. (via berinjelarabugenta)

(Source: michellekpoems, via shannonwest)

Tags: self-care
"Once, I dreamed we’d composed identical
sonnets: you’d begun to read and, recognizing
the first couplet, I unfolded my poem to compare.
In the end we recited in unison, giddy
at finding ourselves singing, as they say,
from the same hymn sheet. No way
outside dreams that will happen,
not with the unpredictable darts and swoops
of your swallow’s logic. Listen,
I’ll write what you call my serpentine syntax
and you, I know, will risk
any word that gives a line some lift, so let’s say we do
light on the same image, won’t it be like
all these years together, shared
but not really the same at all, more like alto
and bass, different notes in the same chord,
a way to make the music bigger?"

Theodore Deppe, closing lines to “For Annie, Who Worries We’re Writing the Same Poem,” from Orpheus on the Red Line (Tupelo Press, 2009)

(Source: apoetreflects)



This Is a Love Poem
by Mary Fell

My blood
knows you are gone

It is shouting your name

It runs
down to the ends of my fingers
looking for you

It wants to be
a piece of red wool
all the way to Central America

It wants to be a boat
coming into the harbor at Managua
carrying fruit

Through all the rooms of my body
it is running
opening doors

A child in a tantrum stamps
red shoes
demanding to know where you are

(via seventhbrother)


You know, we get what we deserve.

I want to see this.

(Source: salandered, via salandered)


You know, I’ve been doing some thinking about body positivity and how I feel personally about my body, and I reckon my best 2 physical attributes are probably:

  1. That my breasts are small and humble (so you don’t confuse them with mountains), and;
  2. My hump. My hump, my hump, my hump. My lovely lady lumps.