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* At Slate, Emily Gould argues that feminist blogs are motivated by jealousy:

It’s a prime example of the feminist blogosphere’s tendency to tap into the market force of what I’ve come to think of as “outrage world”—the regularly occurring firestorms stirred up on mainstream, for-profit, woman-targeted blogs like Jezebel and also, to a lesser degree, Slate‘s own XX Factor and Salon‘s Broadsheet. They’re ignited by writers who are pushing readers to feel what the writers claim is righteously indignant rage but which is actually just petty jealousy, cleverly marketed as feminism. . . . The vibe is less sisterhood-is-powerful than middle-school clique in-fight, with anyone who dares to step outside of chalk-drawn lines delimiting what’s “empowering” and “anti-feminist” inevitably getting flamed and shamed to bits. Paradoxically, in the midst of all the deeply felt concern about women’s sexual and professional freedom to look and be however they want, it’s considered de rigueur to criticize anyone, like [Olivia] Munn, who dares to seem to want to sexually attract men.

Really interesting points here, except for that “petty jealousy” part, where Gould’s piece descends into misogyny. Poorly-researched Internet link-bait is poorly-researched Internet link-bait—-and I’ve yet to find a comments section anywhere that’s teeming with “progressive thought and rational discourse”—-but apparently only “jealousy” is to blame when women are behind this. Gould doesn’t offer any evidence to support the jealous theory, so perhaps she is just jealous? She is a woman writing linkbait about other women on the Internet!

* The DC Trans Coalition announces the formation of the National Coalition of State-Level Transgender Organizations, which will build a nationwide grassroots network on trans issues.

* Zack Rosen of The New Gay reminds bachelorette parties at gay bars: “I’m a person first, sodomite later”:

Three nights ago I was walking down DC’s U Street, the east end of which holds several gay bars, with a couple male friends of mine. Granted many of us were wearing tank tops but I don’t think that precludes kind, humane treatment. Some girls who I don’t think were lesbians were stalled drunkenly at the alley next to Nellies, checking their phones and twiddling their Mardi Gras necklaces, when one decided to annoy the everloving crap out of me. ARE YOU GUYS GOING TO NELLIES? She screamed, in a volume usually reserved for running alongside the train taking your loved one to the Korean War. I mumbled back that no, I was going to Town, a megaclub down the street. YOU’RE SO CRAZY!!!!! she screamed back, as if singing “What a Man” to a deaf person.

I hate when people say “you’re so crazy.”

* Fugitivus gives some advice on suddenly finding you’re a feminist:

A reader recently emailed me asking for some advice. She’s having her feminist “click” moment, and now finds that she is incompatible with almost everybody around her. Suddenly, the presence of rape apologism, racist jokes, sexist sneering, and other such Socialization Aids is inescapably fucking gross instead of invisibly malforming. She finds she can’t talk to anybody without finding out they believe something that is offensive, oppressive, and/or horrifyingly inhumane. She asked me, to briefly summarize: What the fuck do I do now?

* At Yes Means Yes!, Thomas MacAulay Millar on safewords and consent in BDSM, via Clarisse Thorn:

Some folks may have come across the term “consensual nonconsent.” It’s one of those terms with multiple meanings. Some people use it to describe any situation where the bottom is saying “no, don’t” but has not yet safeworded — a usage I find less than useful. Others use it to describe roleplays of nonconsensual situations. The last common usage, though, is that which I like to describe using Hunter S. Thompson’s phrase, “buy the ticket, take the ride.” It means that the bottom consents to be in a situation I’ve just described, where the top decides if the bottom needs to stop, often but not always around specific activities, and usually (wisely) heavily negotiated.

Photo via George Eastman House