It really isn’t about shutting someone up. And it really is not personal. You can choose not to believe that, but it’s true.

Ummmm… except when it’s NOT true.

When the “conversations” go something like this (which I’ve experienced far too many times than I care to count):

Me: [talking about my own life & experiences]

Chorus: No, you’re WRONG! What is REALLY means is THIS! Why don’t you just EXAMINE some more??? Here, listen to me, I’ll tell you what this REALLY signifies, and by the way, by doing this thing, you’re HURTING WOMEN, can’t you see that??

(And Zuzu, I never said you were afraid of shelter dogs. I just quoted you when you said they were a “crapshoot,” as if they were more risky to adopt than purebred dogs, which is wrong.)

Oh, I beg. to. differ. BTW, do you know what a “crapshoot” is? You can lose big or you can win big. You seem to think I’m all about the losing part.

But again: this thread is not about you, or your weird obsession with Monty. Consider this a warning: further attempts to derail this discussion may result in moderation.

At the risk of derailing the thread, I’ll keep it short and sweet—no.

“Is animal rights an inherently feminist issue? Because that’s what this weeks-long argument with Elaine has been about. She thinks that animal rights is inherently feminist, so therefore the fact that Jessica bought a puppy from a dog breeder was a specifically anti-feminist act that needs to be criticized on feminist grounds.”

“Just so I know where to argue from, are you agreeing with Elaine that you can’t be a real feminist without signing on to animal rights as well?”

I never said any such thing. You are mischaracterizing my argument and making a strawfemininst/ strawAR out of it. I never said Jessica wasn’t a real feminist and I never even said animal rights is inherently feminist. I said there are similarities.

Oppression is oppression. 3rd wavers tend to extend the feminist radius of interest outward from women to include various forms of oppression. Some extend it only out to race and class while others include all kinds of oppression, including animal oppression. I thought it worthy to discuss animal rights since the issue was already brought up by Jessica indirectly on Feministing and since I was not the only person interested in discussing it there.

Jessica has made posts about Monty a regular feature of Feministing. She chose to post there rather than in a personal, private place. She’s the one who brought the puppy discussion into the public, political sphere. Yet she does not feel it is appropriate to discuss him in any way other that “aw, he’s so cute.” She’s not blogging about Monty to share personal experience so other women can relate, the way Pollitt describes. She’s blogging about Monty because she can. In fact, her first post about him was about making her readers jealous. It wasn’t at all about sharing and uniting over shared experience. It was “Lookie, lookie at what I have and you don’t. Nah nah!”

Feministing is not a diary. It’s a feminist blog. When you post personal stories and pictures on a political blog you’re going to get a political reaction. That’s what I meant by the personal is political. That, and I don’t believe buying a puppy from a breeder is a private, personal act. It’s an act of commerce that directly affects the lives of other dogs and the humans who work in shelters or in animal control departments.

If Jessica wrote that she went into the forest and chopped down trees for fun she wouldn’t get to defend that “choice” as a private, non-feminist issue that didn’t deserve criticism. If Jessica posted pictures of herself eating veal and fois gras while wearing a fur coat from China (where dogs and cats are killed for fur, yet labeled as fox, raccoon, mink or even faux fur) she wouldn’t get the rest of the feminist blogosphere to rally around and defend her from deserved criticism of her “choices.”

The fact is, all of the “feminists” criticizing me (for having a loud mouth) believe that animals are inferior to humans and they think we can use them however we want regardless of our need or lack thereof and regardless of their suffering. So ANY criticism I make of a feminist on an animal rights issue will be regarded by them as an “attack” and as backlash, even though it isn’t.

How does this relate to Pollitt and her essay? Pollitt talks about how feminists shouldn’t censor themselves in order to live up to the feminist ideal. Well, that goes for this feminist just as much as it goes for that feminist. So, I’m not going to censor myself in order to live up to your ideal feminist, the one who thinks animals are just like fetuses and whatever you do with them is strictly your private choice. Because that’s not what I believe.

(And Zuzu, I never said you were afraid of shelter dogs. I just quoted you when you said they were a “crapshoot,” as if they were more risky to adopt than purebred dogs, which is wrong.)

I think there is still a big double-standard in that you can build an entire movie around a character like The Dude Lebowski, but women in media must be either witty goddesses on a shrine or silly little moral object lessons. (The Jane Austin revival has given us idolized heroines and caricatured supporting cast.)

Which strikes me as very funny, after coming from a bagel shop that is underwriting a show by David Sedaris, who strikes me as being in a very long tradition of self-depreciating storytelling that includes Garrison Keillor, Woody Allen, Bill Cosby at his height, Mark Twain and Ben Franklin. The bumbling everyman who struggles with the complexities of modern life was the character that catapulted Chaplin, Marceau, and Buster Keaton to stardom. To say that Pollitt’s memoir writing is too feminine because it admits to imperfection, is to ignore the way that male writers have shamelessly exhibited their foibles as literature.

And evidently, it is entirely kosher these days talk about your own quirks and foibles, if they happen to involve titilating confessions of liking to be buggered by a laundry list of lovers. I must say that I’m a bit overly fond of catching myself, but have no illustions that it’s sending me closer to god.