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Probably no man has ever troubled to imagine how strange his life would appear to himself if it were unrelentingly assessed in terms of his maleness; if everything he wore, said, or did had to be justified by reference to female approval; if he were compelled to regard himself, day in day out, not as a member of society, but merely (salva reverentia) as a virile member of society. If the centre of his dress-consciousness were his cod-piece, his education directed to making him a spirited lover and meek paterfamilias; his interests held to be natural only in so far as they were sexual. If from school and lecture-room, Press and pulpit, he heard the persistent outpouring of a shrill and scolding voice, bidding him remember his biological function. If he were vexed by continual advice how to add a rough male touch to his typing, how to be learned without losing his masculine appeal, how to combine chemical research with seduction, how to play bridge without incurring the suspicion of impotence. If, instead of allowing with a smile that “women prefer cavemen,” he felt the unrelenting pressure of a while social structure forcing him to order all his goings in conformity with that pronouncement.

He would hear (and would he like hearing?) the female counterpart of Dr. P*** informing him: “I am no supporter of the Horseback Hall doctrine of ‘gun-tail, plough-tail and stud’ as the only spheres for masculine action; but we do need a more definite conception of the nature and scope of man’s life.” In any book on sociology he would find, after the main portion dealing with human needs and rights, a supplementary chapter devoted to “The Position of the Male in the Perfect State.” His newspaper would assist him with a “Men’s Corner,” telling him how, by the expenditure of a good deal of money and a couple of hours a day, he could attract the girls and retain his wife’s affection; and when he had succeeded in capturing a mate, his name would be taken from him, and society would present him with a special title to proclaim his achievement. People would write books called, “History of the Male,” or “Males of the Bible,” or “The Psychology of the Male,” and he would be regaled daily with headlines, such as “Gentleman-Doctor’s Discovery,” “Male-Secretary Wins Calcutta Sweep,” “Men-Artists at the Academy.” If he gave an interview to a reporter, or performed any unusual exploit, he would find it recorded in such terms as these: “Professor Bract, although a distinguished botanist, is not in any way an unmanly man. He has, in fact, a wife and seven children. Tall and burly, the hands with which he handles his delicate specimens are as gnarled and powerful as those of a Canadian lumberjack, and when I swilled beer with him in his laboratory, he bawled his conclusions at me in a strong, gruff voice that implemented the promise of his swaggering moustache.” […]

He would be edified by solemn discussions about “Should Men Serve in Drapery Establishments?” and acrimonious ones about “Tea-Drinking Men”; by cross-shots of public affairs “from the masculine angle,” and by irritable correspondence about men who expose their anatomy on beaches (so masculine of them), conceal it in dressing-gowns (too feminine of them), think about nothing but women, pretend an unnatural indifference to women, exploit their sex to get jobs, lower the tone of the office by their sexless appearance, and generally fail to please a public opinion which demands the incompatible. And at dinner-parties he would hear the wheedling, unctuous, predatory female voice demand: “And why should you trouble your handsome little head about politics?”

If, after a few centuries of this kind of treatment, the male was a little self-conscious, a little on the defensive, and a little bewildered about what was required of him, I should not blame him. If he presented the world with a major social problem, I should scarcely be surprised. It would be more surprising if he retained any rag of sanity and self-respect.

From the 1947 Dorothy L. Sayers essay “The Human-Not-Quite-Human” (via nanaea)

oh my god, this is from 1947. doesn’t it show how much things HAVEN’T changed that I read through this whole thing assuming it was from a current article or essay, until I got to the date at the end?

(via goodbye-courage)

That date is quite damning.

(via wildestranger)

(via amplifyme)

174,644 notes

nakedcuddles:

appropriately-inappropriate:

vickiexz:


penjolina:

piddlebucket:

randomstabbing:

hilariousslut:

aliveforalittlewhile:

warcrimenancydrew:

historywhore:

warcrimenancydrew:

do you guys remember that one post about how men feel entitled to take up so much space and women have to deal with a lot less?

This is actually a documented thing. You always see men on the subway or tube or whatever using both armrests while women sit with their arms hunched together into their laps. That’s why I always make a point to take up at least one if not both armrests of the tube so men can be uncomfortable for once.

^ again, for all the people telling me posting this picture is complaining too much.

In my college classes (and high school too) guys were always stretching, sticking fists and elbows in my face, leaning their heads back over my desk, over my work, spreading their legs out, kicking my bag with their dirty shoes. And let’s not pretend they were in other guys’ space as much as they were in women’s.

It’s so true, this happens to me every day on the train. Same with the walking thing, women will weave out of the way whereas men just walk straight and plow down anything in their path. I always end up playing chicken with men on the sidewalk now, because I refuse to move out of their way.

I love playing chicken with dudes who hog the sidewalk. BODY CHECK! Fucking assholes.
“NOT ALL MEN ARE LIKE THIS!” FUCK OFF.
“AS A MAN, I THINK THAT…” FUCK OFF.
Men always have the same defensive bullshit to spout every time they get called out on their shit. AND IT IS BORING. They remind me of those toys where you pull a string an they have like 5 phrases they can say. Over and over and over.

same here with playing chicken, its hilarious sometimes because they get this flash of realization in their eyes that says ‘holy shit, she’s NOT going to move/??? what do????’ because THEY ARE SO USED TO EVERYONE MOVING FOR THEM

when i was younger my grandpa drew this on a piece of paper,

and he asked me how i, as the red circle, would get around the two people (black circles) if i was walking down the street.
so of course i came back with

moving out of the way for them as i walked.
he asked me if i thought men would do the same and, at the time, i did because i thought it was just common courtesy. but he told me that men would barrel straight through without giving a shit and that i should do the exact same. because i was the one walking and they were the ones in the way. so that’s exactly what i do.


i find this really fascinating because this actually what defines so-called masculine and feminine traits and gestures. the whole limp-wrist thing? that’s someone decreasing the amount of space they take up by not extending their arm fully. same with crossing one’s legs, how it’s considered more masculine to swing your shoulders when you walk creating a wider gait instead of your hips, how someone who holds their elbows tightly into their torso instead of letting them fall more loosely at their sides is considered feminine.
taking up space is not just a frequent habit of males in our culture, its actually how society thinks masculinity is supposed to be expressed.

It’s also why you can seriously freak people out if you’re a woman by sitting back in your chair and draping your arm over the backrest of the one beside it.
Try it.
It’s claiming space, and more importantly, it’s powerful body language. In primates (including humans), the individual that “opens” its chest—that is, leaves it open to attack—is the most dominant of them, precisely because it shows a confidence that no one WILL attack you.
Look at someone who’s comfortable vs someone who’s uncomfortable—the uncomfortable person will inevitably cross their arms or cover their chest to in an instinct to protect the thoracic cavity.
So, when you want to look HELLA confident, open up your chest and make direct eye contact. It feels weird (for women!) at first, but it’s the fastest way to freak a dude out. They genuinely do not know what to do when a woman displays behaviour they recognize as confident.

This was interesting. Literally never thought about it before. 

nakedcuddles:

appropriately-inappropriate:

vickiexz:

penjolina:

piddlebucket:

randomstabbing:

hilariousslut:

aliveforalittlewhile:

warcrimenancydrew:

historywhore:

warcrimenancydrew:

do you guys remember that one post about how men feel entitled to take up so much space and women have to deal with a lot less?

This is actually a documented thing. You always see men on the subway or tube or whatever using both armrests while women sit with their arms hunched together into their laps. That’s why I always make a point to take up at least one if not both armrests of the tube so men can be uncomfortable for once.

^ again, for all the people telling me posting this picture is complaining too much.

In my college classes (and high school too) guys were always stretching, sticking fists and elbows in my face, leaning their heads back over my desk, over my work, spreading their legs out, kicking my bag with their dirty shoes. And let’s not pretend they were in other guys’ space as much as they were in women’s.

It’s so true, this happens to me every day on the train. Same with the walking thing, women will weave out of the way whereas men just walk straight and plow down anything in their path. I always end up playing chicken with men on the sidewalk now, because I refuse to move out of their way.

I love playing chicken with dudes who hog the sidewalk. BODY CHECK! Fucking assholes.

“NOT ALL MEN ARE LIKE THIS!” FUCK OFF.

“AS A MAN, I THINK THAT…” FUCK OFF.

Men always have the same defensive bullshit to spout every time they get called out on their shit. AND IT IS BORING. They remind me of those toys where you pull a string an they have like 5 phrases they can say. Over and over and over.

same here with playing chicken, its hilarious sometimes because they get this flash of realization in their eyes that says ‘holy shit, she’s NOT going to move/??? what do????’ because THEY ARE SO USED TO EVERYONE MOVING FOR THEM

when i was younger my grandpa drew this on a piece of paper,

and he asked me how i, as the red circle, would get around the two people (black circles) if i was walking down the street.

so of course i came back with

moving out of the way for them as i walked.

he asked me if i thought men would do the same and, at the time, i did because i thought it was just common courtesy. but he told me that men would barrel straight through without giving a shit and that i should do the exact same. because i was the one walking and they were the ones in the way. so that’s exactly what i do.

i find this really fascinating because this actually what defines so-called masculine and feminine traits and gestures. the whole limp-wrist thing? that’s someone decreasing the amount of space they take up by not extending their arm fully. same with crossing one’s legs, how it’s considered more masculine to swing your shoulders when you walk creating a wider gait instead of your hips, how someone who holds their elbows tightly into their torso instead of letting them fall more loosely at their sides is considered feminine.

taking up space is not just a frequent habit of males in our culture, its actually how society thinks masculinity is supposed to be expressed.

It’s also why you can seriously freak people out if you’re a woman by sitting back in your chair and draping your arm over the backrest of the one beside it.

Try it.

It’s claiming space, and more importantly, it’s powerful body language. In primates (including humans), the individual that “opens” its chest—that is, leaves it open to attack—is the most dominant of them, precisely because it shows a confidence that no one WILL attack you.

Look at someone who’s comfortable vs someone who’s uncomfortable—the uncomfortable person will inevitably cross their arms or cover their chest to in an instinct to protect the thoracic cavity.

So, when you want to look HELLA confident, open up your chest and make direct eye contact. It feels weird (for women!) at first, but it’s the fastest way to freak a dude out. They genuinely do not know what to do when a woman displays behaviour they recognize as confident.

This was interesting. Literally never thought about it before. 

(via supernovas-gods-and-monsters)

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Is it just me or is the Dean Ambrose tag not loading? Because for the last three days, whenever I try to go in the tag, it only shows the first few posts and then loads for hours. ( I know this because I walked away and kept coming back and it still wouldn’t load.) It’s starting to bum me out. I just want to see my Deanie. :(

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