Ok, so in the past I’ve mentioned my religious ancestry a couple of times — the missionaries, the street preachers, the circuit-riding preachers, and the great-grandfather who helped found Christian Fundamentalism. I don’t think I’ve mentioned the inviolate morning ritual where after breakfast at my grandparents where everyone who could read even a little bit was obliged to sit together around the breakfast table reading in turn from the Bible. I’m sure I’ve mentioned that the roots of my liberal/progressivism come from lessons I learned in Sunday schools and vacation Bible school — lessons about forgiveness, about charity, about tolerance, about equality, and especially about the significance of every living human being and the importance of discounting no one. I’ve mentioned how shocked I am that modern conservative “Christians” appear to want to outright repeal of the Sermon on the Mount (the “blessed are the meek” one) and the Sermon at Gethsemane (the “hypocrites” one) and pretty much everything else I ever learned were the point of being religious.
Point being that while I, um, grew away from my religious upbringing I’m still pretty informed by it. And pretty familiar with it.
So a couple of minutes ago two conservative-missionary-looking young women rang my doorbell. And because I was raised to be polite even to obnoxious strangers I started composing a polite way to wish them luck with whoever they talked to next.
But then they said something that I really, completely, absolutely hadn’t expected: they were enrolled in a nearby seminary and were learning to spread the word about God the Mother.
God the Mother?
And I thought, woah, maybe they’re from one of the other Goddess-worshiping groups that go around. But no, they’re Christian all right, right down to the well-thumbed and highlighted NKJV Bibles. But they were still talking about God the Mother and citing chapter and verse in all the familiar ways with the difference being how if you want to get to Heaven you needed to understand that there’s a God the Mother.
I don’t buy it. Not anymore than I would any other doorbelling missionaries. And I have to say that based on what it actually says in the old and new testaments they’re really grasping at straws.
But no more so than anyone else trying to dig interpretations out of the world’s most Rorschach-ian tome.
After about 15 minutes I thanked them politely, and wished them luck with whoever they talked to next.
But wow.
Just wow.
They were dead earnest. They weren’t fooling. They weren’t particularly feminist in any of the meaningful senses of the word. They certainly seemed comfortable with the rest of patriarchal thinking — for instance I didn’t get any traction when I asked about some of the classic bugaboos of feminist theology. They didn’t sound like they’d heard of any of it nor did they seem at all interested.
But they’re convinced, using chapter and verse, that Jesus had a heavenly mother, and that the Book of Revelations says when he comes back he’ll come back with an equally-divine “bride.” And that if you don’t believe in these mothers and brides as much as you believe in the more traditional fathers and sons you won’t go to heaven.
Which, if true, would be an extremely rude shock to all my myriad, utterly Patriarchal ancestors. And the other roughly 99.99999% of Christianity through the ages.
Still, I’m willing to bet their denomination (I think they might have roots in a Korean branch of the Church of God?) wouldn’t be opposed to the ordination of women priests the way, say, Catholics are (assuming they even have priests, which Protestants usually don’t.) Nor might they be so dead set on women staying home barefoot, pregnant, ignorant, and utterly dependent on their “lord and master” husbands the way, say, the Southern Baptist Convention is. Or maybe they do, I dunno, but at least they let women go proselytizing independently, which I only remember seeing Seventh Day Adventists do.
Not much else to say about them except maybe they call themselves Elohims based on a plural, multi-gender ending on one of the original Hebrew words for God.
Anyone else ever heard of this?
Not much else to
Emily Nagoski of Sex Nerd jumps hard on Jesse Bering, one of Scientific American Magazine’s go-to guys for sex reporting for being a giant squeamish prick jerk. In an article that starts out weird (wondering if Minnesota water was responsible for a lurid erotic dream) and then gets gynophobic while trying to winnow out something to do with differences in sperm count between ejaculation from masturbation and ejaculation from intercourse.
He seems to think collecting semen from masturbators is easy but when discussing collecting semen from hetero intercourse he… um… editorializes. (Emphasis mine, and Nagoski’s)
Well, Baker and Bellis are clever empiricists. They also apparently have stomachs of steel. One way that they tested their hypotheses was to ask over 30 brave heterosexual couples to provide them with some rather concrete samples of their sex lives: the vaginal “flowbacks” from their post-coital couplings, in which some portion of the male’s ejaculate is spontaneously rejected by the woman’s body.
Emily calls him out (emphasis hers)
I’m going to move straight to the plain old RUDENESS of that paragraph.
Apparently collecting ejaculate requires no particular digestive toughness, but ejaculate in cervical mucus requires industrial strength gastric abilities.
Should we conclude that Dr. Bering himself has felt nauseated by the fluids of any female sex partners he may have had? Indeed, the blatant, unapologetic, flinching gynophobia made me wonder if he’s gay, which it turns out he is, but that doesn’t make it okay for him to discuss female fluids as physically disgusting.
In Scientific American.
The “In Scientific American“ part is important. You can argue that it’s somewhere between annoying, edgy, and maybe cute when Dan Savage opines on his disinterest in, say, cunnilingus in his Savage Love columns. In that capacity he’s a columnist. In that capacity his sexual orientation is part of his schtick. Maybe a core part. And that sort of edginess is a core part of his alt-weekly employer, The Stranger as well. While I think it’s fair to say Scientific American has lowered its standards somewhat in recent decades Jesse Bering is still no Dan Savage and Scientific American is no The Stranger. So he should keep his opinions to himself and/or his editors should keep them for him the same way we’d expect them to shut the pie hole of a heterosexual who opined about the ick factor in an article about research into gay or lesbian sexuality.
It’s not about some ideal of having no personal opinions. Heck, it’s not even a matter of covering up ones opinions in the interest of “journalistic objectivity.” It’s about assuming everybody else is going to share your opinions. Or share your knee-squeezing prudishness.
My one quibble would be that Bering is by no means alone in his prejudice, nor is his orientation necessarily a factor: any number of gay and straight people, male and female, from any number of cultures appear to be completely appalled when anything at all flows from someone’s vagina. Including ordinary lubrication from ordinary arousal.
And no, it wouldn’t have been any better, nor could it have been less professional, if someone else had spoken enviously instead of disdainfully of collecting flowback because he assumed everyone shared his “creampie” fetish.
Sheesh!
[Note: I originally called Bering a prick, which is a highly-gendered insult. I’ve revised the wording but left the original to remind myself that it’s harder than one thinks to get away from using gendered insults. —fl]
Genealogy and Female Ancestors
Digging up your family roots. Trying to find the baron which old family stories tell about. That kind of stuff.
I’ve been doing some looking up for a friend, and what strikes me most about the whole adventure is how it truly is HIS story. Women disappear into the mists of time.
As it happens I’ve just finished packing for a trip to Brooklyn, N.Y., to look up information on some of my ancestors. (I hadn’t really realized I had any from Brooklyn in my at all!)
Anyway, I’ll be leaving from my mom’s, and she gave me a little memoir written by a great-great aunt about her childhood, young adulthood, career, and retirement at Vassar. Her father, my great-great grandfather, was the founding president of the college and she was raised there, went to school there herself, and later worked there from hear early 60s till she passed away.
Anyway, Chapter 3 begins “My mother belonged to the days when a wife didn’t feel the need of a ‘career’ or expect to ‘live her own life’ apart from that of her husband, and her only ambition was to be known as the wife of John Raymond. ... Truly in a way she did not mean she was no ordinary woman; and because her life will never appear in a page of American biography, and because she had in herself a richness of character and a charm that was recognized by her many friends, I am glad to contribute a few of my memories of her to be read by some of the earlier Vassar students who may still remember her gracious hospitality.” The memoir was published in 1940.
Perhaps because of the connection to Vassar what has been handed down about our family tree has about as much biographical information about the women as the men. Which would be not much at all for the most part.
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One quibble very minor quibble. While making the very good point to a commentor that even though women quickly disappear from the records they nevertheless continued to exist Echidne said “Also because the number of one’s ancestors increases really rapidly as one goes backwards in general…”
Something I’ve learned is that, at least in America but probably everywhere, if you trace your ancestors enough generations your ancestors begin to overlap. It’s kind of wild how many seemingly unrelated people can have the same great-great or great-great-great grandparents. One intermarriage and boom, a whole quadrant of anticipated ancestors will already have been recorded elsewhere.
One last thing I’ve learned, grimly, is that so many women may be relatively unknown because they so frequently died young. And then their widower husbands remarried. Sometimes more than once! The upshot being that very often the women we do know more about are those who lived long enough, or had few enough children, to be remembered. What’s been hardest so far is coming across letters from parents and sometimes husbands remembering with aching longing the brightness and brilliance of the daughters or wives who passed away before they ever should have.
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I don’t think I’ll have time this trip to go up Vassar. But next time, next fall I hope, I will.
In her introduction to Feminism is for Everyone bell hooks mentions that her mother was the most patriarchal person she ever knew. But even though it’s unlikely the words “just wait till your father gets home” were often spoken by a 20th-Century man this isn’t about “but women do it too.” It’s about how deeply that conditioning goes.
You could spend all afternoon unpacking the gender assumptions, the disempowerment, the paradoxes of traditional “wisdom” (who’s supposed to be the authority in the domestic and child-rearing spheres?) and still not reach the bottom.
Discuss.
Lisa of Sociological Images succinctly describes the concept behind “vajazzling.”
In any case, the video below, in which a woman documents the vajazzling of her “vagina,” reveals that the term refers to the placing of a field of tiny crystals where your public hair would be. So, first you essentially replace your pubic hair with shiny objects.
Succinctly but not completely. That should read shiny, sharp cut-glass crystal objects! Which at the very, very least would tend to limit one’s partner’s interest in face-to-face intercourse. And assuming men are being honest who say they don’t want pubic hair in their mouths ought to be just even more balky about chipping their molars on Swarovski crystals.
My guess is that the hair-in-the-mouth thing is a red herring. As Holly says, if men are so all-fired indiscriminating and sex-crazed they sure are a demandingly picky bunch. And nothing says demanding like “scrape off your pubic hair with a razor, or pull it out with hot, sticky wax,” I’m guessing saying “and encrust it with jewels instead” just seems extra special.
My second guess, though, is that it’s scarcely any of my business how an intimate partner chooses to groom herself and no business at all of mine how anyone else goes about it. Part of privilege would be assuming people who get themselves vajazzled are interested in men’s opinion in the first place.

Copyrighted image from Danielle Corsetto. Visit her site for full-size version.
I’ve been really enjoying Danielle Corsetto’s Girls With Slingshots comic strip since being turned on to it by an anonymous commenter on a previous post.
Her portrayal of 10-year-old boys in the strip behind this link is a little off. I mean, yes, yes, I get that the boy saying “Booobies” nicely reverses Hazel’s concern that she wouldn’t be a safe babysitter and her friend’s reassurance that the 10-year-old is “probably much more mature than you think.”
But still, when you say 10-year-olds you’re talking 4th and 5th graders. I’ve been spending… quite a bit of time with about 47 fifth graders lately. And even for the “mature” ones we’re still talking very pubescent children, not college freshmen!
Comics are funny in very large part because they’re precisely not actual real life. If a real-life little kid behaved the way this one does in this comic, the next one (“so how was baby-sitting last night?” “Hormonal, nerdy, perverted, and gross.” And, sardonically, “My, how unlike a 10-year-old-boy!”) and the way he and his on-line friends behave in this one that wouldn’t be “par for the course.” It wouldn’t be “boys will be boys.” It wouldn’t be “what a surprise.” It would be “speak immediately to the parents” and/or “talk to a child psychologist” and/or “contact child-protective services.”
Because, seriously, a 4th or 5th-grader addressing an adult only in terms of sexual body parts (e.g. “boobies!” and “oh, hi tits”) or, as in this strip, is making out aggressively with another child his age is, has been seriously and prematurely sexualized.
Funny in the funnies (no, really, it’s great bleak/dark/edgy humor) but at the same time it’s factually-incorrectly framing the narrative of all men, of all ages including childhood, as obligate, reflex, obsessive sexual beings.
The “no-sex” class paradigm* is a habit of mind, not reality. It’s a habit we want to break in ourselves. It’s a habit we don’t even want to start in children. Let alone encourage by setting expectations.
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Just to be clear I’m really, really not knocking Corsetto. The comic that was current when I first visited her site was also bleak, also a good poke at gender stereotypes, and also pretty funny. Particularly funny when you’re aware that both the gay man and the straight one in the final panel are deluding themselves — a point Corsetto makes clear with, for instance, the perpetually dateless main character Hazel.
* With apologies to Plymouth
Another point that can be extracted from Hugo Schwyzer’s post about the research into men who hire prostitutes...
It’s not hard to see that this belief — part of what I refer to as the myth of male weakness — serves a particularly important self-justifying function. “I need to have sex with prostitutes”, the line goes, “or I might rape.”
...
They want the myth of male weakness to work because it serves their agenda; they know that in their own lives, the myth is oversold. This is cynical, yes, but devastatingly effective.
It wouldn’t hurt to ask if the same accusations could be made of the socially-conservative philosophy of some of at least some of the researchers behind the original project (pdf).
Because on the one hand, yes, if it’s very helpful to assume all men are potential rapists if one is asserting that all prostitutes are conscripted.
But!
On the other hand, recalling the major point of Hugo’s post, sticking with that dichotomy handily enables men who excuse themselves hiring prostitutes in those terms!
And even though I’ve run out of hands an even more important consideration is that the dichotomy alienates at least two groups that could be really, really useful allies in confronting abuse in prostitution: men in general for one, and the subset of prostitutes (however large or small) who either aren’t or who don’t perceive themselves as coerced.
Bond of Dear Diaspora, who wrestles productively with questions of gender, has some gender-clarifying questions of her own.
The following questions are intended to help one’s own thinking only — there are no right answers, nor right interpretations of answers. Some of them are questions posed to me by others, some are questions I stumbled across in one or many places, and some are questions I’ve asked myself. I apologize for not being able to cite them all properly — credit is given where possible, but I’ve consumed a huge volume of information on this topic and I can’t trace it all back now.
I’m aware that the way I’m using phrases like “born as” is somewhat problematic. Keep in mind these are questions, not answers, and that responses like “I have no idea” and “neither” are very much allowed.
I’ve pulled the answers out of the block quote so I could answer as best I could. I’m assuming they all wish-related questions relate to gender and not general-purpose. So I won’t say “I wish I could fly” in response to “if a genie came to me…” Answering the questions leave me feeling I’m a strongly cis-gendered, sexually male, impatient-with-gender-impositions man. Which might not be a surprise to you, and which surprised me mostly by how strongly born-cis-male (if not born gendered male) I turn out to be.
#1 If a genie came to you and offered you one wish, to change your body in any way you like, what would your wish be? (Thanks to Rebecca for asking me this one some months ago.)
For me it would be mostly about hair, maybe. I had a friend who by about age 15 could grow a full beard and mustache in just a few weeks. With the result that he could fiddle his appearance endlessly — a pencil-thin mustache one week, and nearly a full cossack in a month. I have more of a classic Scottish/Southerner beard that takes forever to grow and leaves bare patches on my cheeks. And unlike the rest of my hair it’s nearly red! On the other hand he now might wish he had my head hair. I also wish I had either less body hair or else softer and less prickly.
Stepping only slightly further away from gender I’d love it if I’d been less ferociously asthmatic as a kid — skinny boys with sunken chests who can neither run nor roughhouse are tailor made for bullying and gendered taunts. But then I might not be as impatient with that as I’ve turned out to be.
#2 If you could either a) be born in the body of the other sex, with your same gender identity, or b) be born in this body, but be someone who never had gender dysphoria, which would you choose? Why?
It’s sort of cheating since I don’t have gender dysphoria, but B. I suspect if I was born in the body of the other sex, with the same gender identity I have now, I’d spend as much time grappling with these issues as Bond does.
#3 If you could either a) change yourself to have the body of the other sex or b) change the world so you’d be accepted unconditionally as your gender without changing your body, which would you choose? Why?
I think this is a $64,000 question. Also a possibly real-world relevant one. I’ve heard from several sources, each with differing degrees of sympathy for trans issues, that cultural climate seems to have a very strong influence on people’s sense of identity and dysphoria, one that ties in quite a lot with corresponding levels of tolerance vs transphobia and homophobia. And so before I’d ask individuals to undergo the (at present) considerable hassle of surgical and medicinal transition I’d want to do what I could to make present society (including the affected individuals themselves) more comfortable with the ambiguity that seems to be part of ordinary human nature. So my strong preference would be B. (Not that my preference counts for a whole lot — I’m not conflicted about my identity. But then for
#4 If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
In the dimension of male gender stereotype I wish my vocal range could be a little deeper. In the dimension of female gender stereotype I wish I was more physically flexible and that I had a better sense of smell. I also dearly wish I could (still) hear higher frequencies — traditionally high-register hearing loss is a masculine trait but in my case I think it has a lot more to do with rock and roll in my youth.
#5 What would your gender identity be if you’d been born as the other sex? How masculine or feminine would you be? (This comes from an old one for when one is questioning her sexual orientation: What would your sexual orientation be if you were the other sex?)
I gotta say if I had been born as the other sex my brain says I’d probably identify as female, assuming I was as cis-bodied then as I am now. My hindbrain says I’d identify as I am now. Which happens to be male. As for how feminine or masculine, I imagine if I was born female I’d still be pretty dour about gender constructions and work towards the middle. As for orientation since I’m straight now I assume I’d be straight then as well. Which is intellectually easy to imagine but conceptually difficult.
#6 When given the opportunity to construct a persona, such as online, in writing, or in video games, what gender do you make yourself, and why?
When I’ve constructed online personalities I’ve always constructed male ones. I think maybe because of my introverted, couldabeen Aspergers-y personality most of my constructed personalities (including attempts at dialogue in ordinary fiction) come out sounding exactly like me.
#7 Jewish tradition teaches that each person has three names: the name she is given at birth, the name she is called, and her real name. What is your real name?
Interesting question. In a lot of ways my real name could almost be figleaf! I spend an awful lot of time in my head and I write best when I’m pouring my thoughts out with as little editing as possible. I vastly prefer to be called David in person, however. :-)
#8 What gender were you in your past life?
What sex is easy: Intuition (the only possible way to answer something like this) says I’ve always been male. What gender? That would depend on the culture and language I was born into.
#9 What questions have helped you understand your gender issues? What questions would you ask someone struggling with hers? Feel free to share answers [with Bond], too.

Photo “Blue bells or something” by Flickr user leff. Used under a Creative Commons license.
Em & Lo have a year-end post titled “Top 10 Things We Learned from EMandLO.com Commenters in ‘09.” One of the items on their list was “Blue Balls Exist.”
Turns out I left a comment about it there that, in retrospect, is good enough — and first-person enough, to repost a minimally-edited version here.
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I didn’t start getting them till pretty late in life. It’s a deep ache, not so much in the testicles as higher up. It sounds like it’s different for different men but for me just being aroused for a long time isn’t enough to trigger it. It also has to have been a pretty long time (maybe a week or longer) since my last ejaculation too. Since that doesn’t happen very often blue balls don’t happen to me very often either. I mean, even without frequent partnered sex you can still have frequent masturbation.
And speaking of which, I’ve got a feeling that as masturbation has lost most of its stigma blue balls has probably become a lot less frequent in the general population. And if nothing else, its certainly painful enough, and the “preventative medicine” is pleasant enough and harmless enough, that it shouldn’t have to be terribly common either.
I agree with some of the other men [who commented at Em & Lo’s] that ejaculation once you’ve got blue balls isn’t entirely pleasant. The orgasm’s nice but the achy cramps in (what seems to me like) the epididymis and vas deferens knocks out a lot of the enjoyment. But! The nice thing? If it’s been that long since my last orgasm it’s pretty easy to get aroused again. And the next orgasm feels just fine.
All that said, I disagree completely with anyone who suggests that “taking care” of blue balls anyone’s responsibility but one’s own. It’s usually up to you to go that long without ejaculating, it’s easy (and often surprisingly quick) to deal with, and if you’ve had them once you can recognize the warning signs soon enough to call things off before it really gets bad.
So. Sample script you can try out: “I’m really enjoying this but if we keep it up I’m going to get blue balls. I’d like to keep going if you’d feel comfortable helping me have an orgasm. But otherwise I want to stop.” And, incidentally, by making it a choice for your partner instead of an obligation she (assuming your partner’s a woman) may be a lot more interested in continuing than she might otherwise have been.
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Note: further down in their comments a number of women mention that they get distinct and painful aching after prolonged arousal. I’m betting they’re not the only ones. Yet more evidence that men and women have more in common than Mars/Venus ideology would have us believe.
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Feel free to chime in with your experiences with “blue balls,” whether you have actual balls or not.
You know that story that as embryos we all start out as female, with just a couple of genes on the male Y chromosome responsible for modifications that make male embryos develop into actual men?
A classic example might be Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome, a genetic condition that prevents or inhibits the expression of male sex hormones in XY-chromosome cells. People with AIS often have externally-indistinguishable female genitals and develop breasts at puberty but have no uterus, fallopian tubes or cervix and may have no upper vagina.
This and other similar intersex syndromes are responsible for the conclusion that genetically and developmentally speaking men are just special-case women.
I’m not sure why that’s supposed to matter but it gets buzzed about a lot.
Turns out that while the basic outline of the story remains approximately correct it’s… more complicated than that.
Richard Alleyne, Science Correspondent at The Telegraph
Researchers have found that the body is in a constant fight to remain either female or male and the suppression of just one gene could cause it to “flip” from one to the other.
...
In mammals, males have XY chromosomes and females XX. The new research shows that another gene is responsible for switching women into men.
If the FOXL2 is switched on then the body grows ovaries, switched off and they are replaced by testicles.
But what really surprised the researchers is that the process continues after birth and the body remains in a constant tussle to either switch on or off the gene – even in adulthood.
Hard core gender essentialists might find this frustrating. Men aren’t just women with an X-degenerate Y chromosome. Women aren’t “pure” humans. On the other hand male embryos don’t actively make ourselves men, nor do female embryos passively default into women. Instead, at the genetic level anyway, we all take active steps to differentiate, switching on some genes and switching off others, in order to become who we are.
(Via Joanna Cake, Violet Blue, and others.)