Karl and I were both in a really good mood last night (which for me has evaporated in the last few hours. I'm just .. mad...for no good reason) and we were talking about him and a coworker going to this usability conference in Montreal this summer. Now, I have been given the opportunity through the person I contract with to also have expenses covered to be sent to conferences, but haven't ever taken her up on that. This conference in partcular would be a really good one for me to go to. (Usability, Human Factors, innovative looks at usability research, etc) so we were talking about that. I said that I actually wouldn't want to get in the way of "guy time" and was about to point out that it would be awkward dragging me to a strip club with Cesar when he said that he knows Cesar would want to hit up a strip club or two.
This turned to a conversation on my feelings about strip clubs/strippers in general and my general level of discomfort. Basically, as long as I don't have to hear about how hot/stacked/attractive/flexible/etc some windex wrangler is, I don't really care. I know his motivations and "I want to make fun of whores with my friend who is also making fun of whores" is alright by me.
Plus, stripper girls, in Florida, in Vegas, in Ohio... they're all just different cost of living levels of the same basic skank. It's all Tiffany, all the time.
This morning, thinking about this again, and then reading this feminist blog thingy from the friends list (which I would link to but the post seems to be gone in the wake of some sort of drama?) it got the whole "what the hell is the point" question regarding "feminism" stuck in my head again.
The problem is, it always devolves so quickly into a sociological tretise on dominant gender roles in society and this or that patriarchal philosophy that has informed those roles that it never really gets to its own point.
Makes you want to use words like "miasma"... which I'm totally against using.
Anyway, while I'm certainly not one of the opressed masses, i'm certainly not a feminist intellectual either and probably identify more against the modern ideals of "feminism" as I've seen them applied than I do for them. Maybe that's why I have no problem laughing at a bunch of nasty skanky stripper girls. I coud honestly just be doing myself, my gender, a disservice. But then, where would the fodder for my own misogyny be if so many women weren't so ready and willing to proffer their cunts to anyone willing to tuck a dollar into their ass crack (or just be nice to them online for that matter).
I think it's a chicken and the egg thing. I also think it's a victim and the crime thing.