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My rambling wrap up to my Joss “controversy” tweets.

I’m not sure how or why, but I ended up talking and tweeting a lot today about Joss Whedon, The Avengers, feminism, anti feminism, triggers, reactions, choices of reaction, and whether or not there’s a difference between being pissed off that a fictional super being uses a slur for a part of a woman’s body or and whether or not it’s okay for the state to mandate the legality of being able to insert items into that aforementioned body part.

Here’s what I don’t understand and, to be honest, what makes me sad…and I know I’ve said it before…

If EVERYTHING is a big deal, then nothing is. If we get up in arms about every perceived slight, we lose the passion of the real attacks. If we allow ourselves to be upset for longer than a few heartbeats about the small disagreements, we leech our strength for when we need it most.

Take this exchange.

Me: I wish people didn’t take it so much to heart. Joss’ comment, I mean. Because it’s so interpretive. Know what I mean? 

Return comment: If it’s meant to be interpretive, then people have a right to their interpretation, no? 

Me: They have a right to anything, I just don’t know why people choose a negative view instead of a positive one.

So let me clarify.
Am I going to decide Joss is anti-woman based on the comment in question. One line in a lot of lines. The one that said he was proud of getting a certain phrase “out to the masses”.

Or am I going to look at this post from 2007. This full throated, filled with pain and love and fire manifesto.

This is what I mean by choosing. Yes, I’ll trigger. Yes, I might react. But I am a high functioning organism. I am more than nerves and reactions. I have a mind and experiences and reasoning. I choose what I give my power to. I decide who gets to hurt me. I do.

In this case, I choose to look at something like this and decide there’s no benefit in getting angry. I’m going to save my strength.

And, by choosing to keep Joss Whedon in my “for women” column, I won’t cost myself the joy I feel in his work. Because I would feel sad at the loss of that joy and, in a way, depleted.

I have no idea if this makes sense and — tbh — I don’t care. It’s my way of getting this out of my head and then I can stop discussing it anywhere else. I can stop expending energy explaining. I need my energy.

For November. For Choice. For Human and Gay Rights. For Women. For Men.

For Humanity.

Damn, no wonder I’m tired. ;-)


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