Thursday, August 21, 2014

Michfest Complete Change of WBW Policy-Men NOW Welcome!!!

Yesterday morning I awoke to a statement in my inbox from Lisa Vogel/Michfest leaders. Since the statement is in five parts I have broken down all five and will address each part individually. There is a little background information, but it will become apparent for those who arent aware of it.

Michfest leaders claim trans males are now not only welcome at Michfest, trans males are "our sisters!" In this new we-welcome-men-policy, Michfest leaders dare to speak for ALL lesbian attendees and lesbian supporters since Michfest began in 1976! No male is MY sister! And men who fetishize woman to the point of masturbatory pathology while contorting himself to squeeze into the hyper femininity HE holds near and dear is NO female's sister!!! The same hyper femininity HE requires for HIS masturbatory drug addled highs is the very same hyper femininity behind most every female eating disorder, depression, insecurity, pathological fears, plastic surgeries, a fare share of rapes, sexualization and prostitution of female children, far too many suicides and far far far too many other pathologies preying on females everywhere and every second of every fucking day!

These are the dirty vile secrets Michfest leaders didnt mention in their kiss-trans-male-ass statement. Their statement leads lesbians to believe these men are our sisters because they once were our brothers, as in gay men. The trans males who've been to Michfeast and who will undoubtedly flock to Michfest 2015 now that they are all invited, are NOT gay men! They are males who get erections from putting on clothing deemed girls/women's, beginning usually with their mothers or sisters. Transition only fuels their sexual highs and gaining entrance (rape?) into girls or women's private spaces is the ultimate in sexual highs for them. These are the trans males Michfest leaders our saying are now our lesbian sisters! I suggest if Michfest leaders feel so strongly about this and comfortable with trans males, they should invite these trans male sisters to stay with them while in Michigan! 

Part two of their statement gets conveniently murky. Michfest leaders state Michfest has largely been defined by lesbian culture, yet in the same breath brag about all the trans males and trans females who attend fest and even work at fest. They then jump to the problem of trans males at fest and in general, by highlighting examples of how the Trans Politic is legally making it illegal to be/experience being a biological female. They end this part of the statement by declaring the importance of creating a space, like Michfest which upholds female defined experiences! Umm WHAT?!!! Lets invite males to Michfest, lets call grown heterosexual men our sisters, and lets expect those same white privileged hetero-patriarchal men to mind their P and Qs while the women folk talk about our pussys! I wasnt aware trans males cast off their patriarchal misogynistic dominant attitudes into designated waste baskets before entering the gates.
This I found personally insulting and painful to read in the fucking extreme! Suddenly Michfest leaders have adopted the DSM's pathologically disordered lingo to describe a dyke or a Butch dyke. There is NOTHING gender non conforming in being a dyke or a Butch dyke! We're female, and we conform to our biology! Living and breathing outside the Gender Straight Jacket doesnt suddenly mean we arent 1000% female! I can only assume Michfest leaders too think dykes or Butch dykes arent real women. Not surprising given they support transition, which we know began and continues as a means to eradicate gays and lesbians, now even as children. None the less, its still painful to read, worse as a Michigander myself and a lesbian.
In this piece of the statement, we find out the back info which is the reason for the statement itself AND precisely what the NOW trans male inclusion is all about. Michfest uses again their murky slight of hand to say Michfest will not exclude anyone BUT they will continue to focus on shared female experiences. This is stated to appease ALL attendees and possible attendees they are hoping to gain in the coming years. A public boycott was issued against Michfest last month by Equality Michigan.   EM publicly stated to Michfest leaders that they are committed to telling "our communities, festival organizers, festival vendors, and artists" to boycott Michfest "until this policy is modernized". Now post Michfest 2014 which had a nearly all time low attendance (past years 7500 women-now a few thousand) and suddenly Michfest leaders are welcoming men with open arms and open legs! Well your legs, not theirs. Michfest leaders even go so far as to employ scare tactical pressures aimed at attendees to come to Michfest or all the artists who perform there might starve! We are to believe that if an artist doesnt perform a once a year gig at Michfest they will wind up in some gutter somewhere next to the down and outs, drug addicts and winos! What is most disgusting about this scare tactic is it is MOST patriarchal and misogynistic! Women in our every day lives are guilted all day long and this once a year Michfest experience is suppose to be the place we no longer have to feel patriarchal guilt pressures and then here are Michfest leaders doing the very same fucking thing they're telling us to come to them to momentarily suspend!
There are two blatant messages to come away with after reading this Michfest statement in its entirety: 1) Michfest no longer has a women-born-woman policy. Men are now welcome. Any women calling herself a man and any man no matter his intact body, sexual criminal history is now welcome at Michfest if he simply calls himself womon. 2) Michfest leaders sold girls/women like common whores to the almighty misogynistic patriarchal dollar. There is an unwritten third message to the trans males, you arent truly wanted or accepted, but Michfest leaders WILL take your money! Be sure guys to tips well for services rendered.

While I do not agree with the reasons EM petitioned a boycott of Michfest, I most strongly support lesbians boycott all future Michfest festivals! Michfest leaders stressed to attendees (sisters) to be mindful of where your money goes. I urge this as well. And remember next year when contemplating attending Michfest, your money supports: 
Any lesbian attending Michfest will support the brutalizing misogyny of female transition, and worse pathologizing (non gender conforming) the normal behaviour of baby dykes who are now being transitioned in childhood for a future where dykes will not only NOT be attending Michfest festivals, we will no longer exist period!

I wonder what the 19 year old Lisa Vogel would think of all this.


Sunday, August 17, 2014

FTM Bottom Surgery: Radial Forearm Flap

Trans females in previous decades, in the majority, were very vocal about what made them men. Specifically they claimed bottom surgery as its called, meaning a series of surgeries  barbarities performed on healthy limbs/bodies/sexual organs of trans females to create a skin pole of sorts which to urinate from or penetrate a vagina/anus, weren't necessary for them to be men. Bottom surgery was rare as it was expensive and dangerous/horrifically crude in its appearance.

Today's trans females arent so satisfied with testosterone injections/double mastectomies. Trans Trending females (trans females under age 25) today are seeking bottom surgery in higher and higher numbers, especially in countries where these surgeries are now paid for with tax payer dollars. I suspect the larger number of trans females seeking bottom surgery has as much to do with their young immature/insecure ages as it does the commodification of transition itself by media/medical professionals.

There are several different popular bottom surgeries, I will go through each in individual posts beginning with the Radial Forearm Flap.

Keep in mind, ALL information, including photo's are from medical professionals advocating/promoting/posting best POSSIBLE outcomes for this particular bottom surgery.

The reality of the Radial Forearm Flap? One healthy forearm is sacrificed (permanently disfigured) for its skin/veins/nerves to wrap around a cylindrical tube lined with another tube connecting to the urethra and sewn over the living clitoris, in effect, burying the clitoris beneath. Even the best outcomes are fraught with urinary complications of which there are NO long term studies. Therefore even as these complications are treated in various short term stages, no one know how aging might effect urination later on. The forearm dildo even in the short term, shrinks in size, given the lack of long term studies medical professionals do not know what amount of shrinkage might occur over the lifetime of the patient or how that shrinkage will affect necessary use. 

The forearm dildo has three prime objectives; to pass as a penis in appearance, pissing performance and sexual (intercourse) performance. Clearly from the pictures available on the website I used and various others, the first objective is a complete failure. The forearm dildo looks nothing like a penis, and the labia majora filled with potentially cancer causing/immune related tissue disorder balls appear equally strange looking. Urinating, whether sitting or standing using the forearm dildo holds many complications in the short term and unknowable complications with aging. Using the forearm dildo for sexual intercourse:
Even masturbating to the point of orgasm is something each trans female patient has to learn by manipulating the forearm dildo to stimulate her clitoris suffocating beneath. With the forearm dildo ALL direct sexual contact is no longer possible. This surgery is nothing short of barbaric and reminiscent of the most gruesome days of early medicine.


Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Trans Trending-Who is Transitioning

Sawyer-Age 16

Tyler-Age 15

Brynn-Age 22

Gabe-Age 17

Aiden-Age 19

Ray-Age 19

Dana-Age 18

Synclair-Age 18

Felix-Age 22

A recent comment regarding these exact posts, which I'll address here, in this one. 
Documenting the methodical systematic destruction of (primarily) lesbian females, is anything BUT perverted. What it is, is necessary for the prosecution of the criminal institutions behind this homo/lezbo-phobic practice in the near future. You will also notice, not one single girl's/woman's videos are private. I ONLY post public images/videos, PUBLIC i.e. seeking a viewer, not HIDING from them. Dont TRANSfer your own feelings onto strangers, it isnt healthy.

It is also quite obvious from any picture or video (and there are numerous in the last dozen years) that I have not been and am NOT on testosterone now or ever.

My family, relatives, neighborhood, school system etc never interfered with me BEING me, nor did/do they love me any less for NOT being them.

All information stated in this blog space is historically backed up. You dont have to believe me and if you're smart you wouldnt take anything said here or anywhere at face value. Use it for the purpose its intended, a starting point toward truth. I have full confidence your homework will divulge indistinguishable answers.


Edit to add:

A lezbo/feminist-phobic campaign launched by a trans female in effort to silence feminist bloggers who do not meet with HER approval. These are the lessons trans females are learning from males, when a woman dares to have an opinion and the intelligence to utilize and critique patriarchal structures ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK! And worse, attack with a gut reaction based on ignorance (she actually labels me a radfem! Someone needs to do her homework on B/F history) and fear.  

Sunday, August 10, 2014

Doing Woman Different: Germaine Tillion

Germaine Tillion (May 30, 1907 – April 18, 2008) was many things in her life, but above ALL else she was a revolutionary upholding truth, justice and goodness.

Germaine grew up in Clermont-Ferrand, France with a mother who also had revolutionary leanings of her own. In her teens Germaine left for Paris where she studied social anthropology/ethnology to understand the world with which she lived in. Germaine also did field work in Algeria in preparation for her doctorate. When she had came back to Paris in 1940, Germany had already seized control of France.

Germaine immediately had an opportunity to save a Jewish family when she returned and did so by giving them her papers to ensure them a greater potential for survival while limiting her own. She then joined and became a leading member of a French Resistance group from 1940 to 1942 who specialized in "the distribution of propaganda, the manufacture of false papers, the passing of intelligence to London, the escape of allied airmen, the hiding of Jews and the publication of its own newspaper." In 1942 she was betrayed by an informant priest, Germaine was arrested, imprisoned and later deported to Ravensbrück concentration camp near Berlin in 1943.

 Against incredible odds, she survived Ravensbrück, where possibly 90,000 women and children, including her mother, the writer Emilie Tillion, were murdered.
Trained as an anthropologist, Tillion was an astute observer of human behaviour, a staunch defender of human rights and fierce critic of violence. After the Liberation, she criticised the use of torture in the Algerian war of 1954-62, and condemned human-rights abuses in the Gulags and post-2003 Iraq.
After the Second World War...
resumed her academic career, researching into the deportation of women from France, and again spending time in Algeria, where open warfare erupted in 1954.
Given her understanding of North Africa, it was only natural that the French government should have called upon her services and in 1955, she became part of the Governor-General's cabinet. Involved in the setting up of "social centres" to facilitate Franco-Muslim understanding and to ameliorate the distressing living conditions of Arab men and women, in 1957 she met secretly, and at great personal danger, Yacef Saâdi, one of the nationalist leaders, in a bid to halt the terror that was sweeping through Algiers. Though she was unable to stop the summary killings and public executions, that year Tillion took part in an inquiry into the use of torture in French North African prisons and holding camps. In 1960, Tillion joined the protests against the brutal treatment meted out to Djamila Boupacha, a young Algerian girl who had been raped with a bottle while in French custody.
 Germaine also...
retained her attachment to North Africa, writing extensively about the position of women in the region, who she believed were repressed not because of Christianity or Islam but because of the lingering vestiges of primitive society and a caste system.
Germaine later received the Grand-croix de la Légion d'honneur (Only five other women were ever bestowed with this award).

Germaine Tillion did woman different by not merely witnessing the evil that men do, but  documenting that evil in face of mortal danger and then looking those dangers straight in the eye and saying that one word that can get a woman killed in the privacy of her own home-Germaine Tillion said NO!


Saturday, August 9, 2014

Top 10 Signs your Child is NOT a Transgender

Somewhere around age 2 to 3 your child rebels in varying ways against sex stereotypes generally associated with their sex according to male structured societies.

1) Your child dislikes the clothing specified for their sex & lacking alternatives prefers clothing specified for the opposite sex.

2) Your child dislikes most colours specified for their sex & lacking alternatives prefers colours specified for the opposite sex.

3) Your child dislikes toys/playthings specified for their sex & lacking alternatives prefers toys/playthings specified for the opposite sex.

4) Your child dislikes games specified for their sex & lacking alternatives prefers games specified for the opposite sex.

5) Your child dislikes peers specified for their sex & lacking alternatives prefers peers specified for the opposite sex.

6) Your child dislikes fairytale roles specified for their sex & lacking alternatives prefers fairytale roles specified for the opposite sex.

7) Your child dislikes books/films/characters specified for their sex & lacking alternatives prefers books/films/characters specified for the opposite sex.

8) Your child dislikes learning materials specified for their sex & lacking alternatives prefers learning materials specified for the opposite sex.

9) Your child dislikes future careers possibilities specified for their sex & lacking alternatives prefers future career possibilities specified for the opposite sex.

10) Your child dislikes the limits specified for their sex & lacking alternatives prefers the limits specified for the opposite sex, believing them to be less restrictive/more inclined with their own nature.

Your child isnt trapped in the wrong body, your child is trapped in a circumscribed family/society, suffocatingly smothering his/her personality/desires/abilities/potentials/futures and all around general nature

Change YOUR world, NOT your child's body!


Tuesday, August 5, 2014

Girl Intercepted

As far back as I can remember, I wanted to be a boy. I thought constantly about it in the light of day and prayed over it in the dark hours of night. Out of sight I pretended I was a boy. On the nights I prayed the hardest, were the days I awoke most excited. Quickly searching my body for clues I gleaned from my older brother. He sometimes walked out of his room in his under-boy things, mom yelling at him to "put some damn clothes on." I saw a few times the big hump in front, but praying did nothing to swell my small bump. But dont get me wrong here, it wasnt just the big bump I wanted that boys had, it was EVERYTHING!

On top of all that, I hated everything girl. The stupid clothes, the dumb toys and games, how they acted, their favourite colours. Even before I could remember, my parents said whenever they put me in girl's clothes I'd strip them off, underwear and all! After a while, they gave up and let me were boy stuff, even cute under-boy things. In these clothes I felt so free like I was a bird and these clothes were my wings. But at first I could only wear them at home, later after I pleaded, mom gave the okay and I could also wear them to school. Kids can be cruel. Sometimes they made fun of me, accused me of "acting" like a boy. I screamed back at them I WAS a boy! But each time, despite my boy clothes, I had to line up with the girls to use the girls restroom. Some boys were cool though, could see what I felt and what I knew. They let me play their games and even made me an "honorary" boy too.

Soon my parents, concerned, found me a special doctor. What God didnt give me the doctor would, could it be that easy? I was going to have an operation. I was afraid and happy all at once. When it was all over with, I was going to be normal! I would be the boy I was meant to be. Doing all the boy things I envied! As I waited in hospital, my mind raced to a new boy world that I was soon to be a part. The long curly locks that boys had, my hair was still growing out. Skipping rope. The lacy dresses, white stockings and beautiful shiny black patent leather shoes. Smooth pink and red ribbons in my hair. Skirts, blouses, sweet perfume and cute panties! All this would be my oyster, just by going to sleep. "Drink this" the doctor handed me something in a white cup.

Later, when I was back at school and the teacher said "boys form a line" I too stood up.


Eye of the Beholder

Sunday, August 3, 2014

Woolf-a Room of Ones Own-Women STILL...

In 1928 the novelist Virgina Woolf gave a lecture A Room of Ones Own at two (the only two- Newnham College and Girton College) women's colleges in England at the time. In her essay, Woolf tackled the plight of past women whose lives were so circumscribed and dictated by males/male authority and custom that not only didnt they possess any agency, they didnt possess education/job opportunies/monies to have their own agency. And by not having any of these necessities for self/hood/sufficiency they had no chance of ever writing great poetry or literature, let alone having it published.

But what I find deplorable, I continued, looking about the bookshelves again, is that nothing is known about women before the eighteenth century. I have no model in my mind to turn about this way and that. Here am I asking why women did not write poetry in the Elizabethan age, and I am not sure how they were educated; whether they were taught to write; whether they had sitting-rooms to themselves; how many women had children before they were twenty-one; what, in short, they did from eight in the morning till eight at night. They had no money evidently; according to Professor Trevelyan they were married whether they liked it or not before they were out of the nursery, at fifteen or sixteen very likely. It would have been extremely odd, even upon this showing, had one of them suddenly written the plays of Shakespeare, I concluded, and I thought of that old gentleman, who is dead now, but was a bishop, I think, who declared that it was impossible for any woman, past, present, or to come, to have the genius of Shakespeare. He wrote to the papers about it. He also told a lady who applied to him for information that cats do not as a matter of fact go to heaven, though they have, he added, souls of a sort. How much thinking those old gentlemen used to save one! How the borders of ignorance shrank back at their approach! Cats do not go to heaven. Women cannot write the plays of Shakespeare.
Virginia then imagines what life might have been like for a girl in Shakespeare's day to have had a poet's genius.
Be that as it may, I could not help thinking, as I looked at the works of Shakespeare on the shelf, that the bishop was right at least in this; it would have been impossible, completely and entirely, for any woman to have written the plays of Shakespeare in the age of Shakespeare. Let me imagine, since facts are so hard to come by, what would have happened had Shakespeare had a wonderfully gifted sister, called Judith, let us say. Shakespeare himself went, very probably — his mother was an heiress — to the grammar school, where he may have learnt Latin — Ovid, Virgil and Horace — and the elements of grammar and logic. He was, it is well known, a wild boy who poached rabbits, perhaps shot a deer, and had, rather sooner than he should have done, to marry a woman in the neighbourhood, who bore him a child rather quicker than was right. That escapade sent him to seek his fortune in London. He had, it seemed, a taste for the theatre; he began by holding horses at the stage door. Very soon he got work in the theatre, became a successful actor, and lived at the hub of the universe, meeting everybody, knowing everybody, practising his art on the boards, exercising his wits in the streets, and even getting access to the palace of the queen. Meanwhile his extraordinarily gifted sister, let us suppose, remained at home. She was as adventurous, as imaginative, as agog to see the world as he was. But she was not sent to school. She had no chance of learning grammar and logic, let alone of reading Horace and Virgil. She picked up a book now and then, one of her brother’s perhaps, and read a few pages. But then her parents came in and told her to mend the stockings or mind the stew and not moon about with books and papers. They would have spoken sharply but kindly, for they were substantial people who knew the conditions of life for a woman and loved their daughter — indeed, more likely than not she was the apple of her father’s eye. Perhaps she scribbled some pages up in an apple loft on the sly but was careful to hide them or set fire to them. Soon, however, before she was out of her teens, she was to be betrothed to the son of a neighbouring woolstapler. She cried out that marriage was hateful to her, and for that she was severely beaten by her father. Then he ceased to scold her. He begged her instead not to hurt him, not to shame him in this matter of her marriage. He would give her a chain of beads or a fine petticoat, he said; and there were tears in his eyes. How could she disobey him? How could she break his heart? The force of her own gift alone drove her to it. She made up a small parcel of her belongings, let herself down by a rope one summer’s night and took the road to London. She was not seventeen. The birds that sang in the hedge were not more musical than she was. She had the quickest fancy, a gift like her brother’s, for the tune of words. Like him, she had a taste for the theatre. She stood at the stage door; she wanted to act, she said. Men laughed in her face. The manager — a fat, loose-lipped man — guffawed. He bellowed something about poodles dancing and women acting — no woman, he said, could possibly be an actress. He hinted — you can imagine what. She could get no training in her craft. Could she even seek her dinner in a tavern or roam the streets at midnight? Yet her genius was for fiction and lusted to feed abundantly upon the lives of men and women and the study of their ways. At last — for she was very young, oddly like Shakespeare the poet in her face, with the same grey eyes and rounded brows — at last Nick Greene the actor-manager took pity on her; she found herself with child by that gentleman and so — who shall measure the heat and violence of the poet’s heart when caught and tangled in a woman’s body? — killed herself one winter’s night and lies buried at some cross-roads where the omnibuses now stop outside the Elephant and Castle.
That, more or less, is how the story would run, I think, if a woman in Shakespeare’s day had had Shakespeare’s genius. But for my part, I agree with the deceased bishop, if such he was — it is unthinkable that any woman in Shakespeare’s day should have had Shakespeare’s genius. For genius like Shakespeare’s is not born among labouring, uneducated, servile people. It was not born in England among the Saxons and the Britons. It is not born to-day among the working classes. How, then, could it have been born among women whose work began, according to Professor Trevelyan, almost before they were out of the nursery, who were forced to it by their parents and held to it by all the power of law and custom? Yet genius of a sort must have existed among women as it must have existed among the working classes. Now and again an Emily Brontë or a Robert Burns blazes out and proves its presence. But certainly it never got itself on to paper. When, however, one reads of a witch being ducked, of a woman possessed by devils, of a wise woman selling herbs, or even of a very remarkable man who had a mother, then I think we are on the track of a lost novelist, a suppressed poet, of some mute and inglorious Jane Austen, some Emily Brontë who dashed her brains out on the moor or mopped and mowed about the highways crazed with the torture that her gift had put her to....This may be true or it may be false — who can say? — but what is true in it, so it seemed to me, reviewing the story of Shakespeare’s sister as I had made it, is that any woman born with a great gift in the sixteenth century would certainly have gone crazed, shot herself, or ended her days in some lonely cottage outside the village, half witch, half wizard, feared and mocked at. For it needs little skill in psychology to be sure that a highly gifted girl who had tried to use her gift for poetry would have been so thwarted and hindered by other people, so tortured and pulled asunder by her own contrary instincts, that she must have lost her health and sanity to a certainty.
 Virginia concludes a Room with these thoughts and hopes for future women:

I told you in the course of this paper that Shakespeare had a sister; but do not look for her in Sir Sidney Lee’s life of the poet. She died young — alas, she never wrote a word. She lies buried where the omnibuses now stop, opposite the Elephant and Castle. Now my belief is that this poet who never wrote a word and was buried at the cross-roads still lives. She lives in you and in me, and in many other women who are not here to-night, for they are washing up the dishes and putting the children to bed. But she lives; for great poets do not die; they are continuing presences; they need only the opportunity to walk among us in the flesh. This opportunity, as I think, it is now coming within your power to give her. For my belief is that if we live another century or so — I am talking of the common life which is the real life and not of the little separate lives which we live as individuals — and have five hundred a year each of us and rooms of our own; if we have the habit of freedom and the courage to write exactly what we think; if we escape a little from the common sitting-room and see human beings not always in their relation to each other but in relation to reality; and the sky. too, and the trees or whatever it may be in themselves; if we look past Milton’s bogey, for no human being should shut out the view; if we face the fact, for it is a fact, that there is no arm to cling to, but that we go alone and that our relation is to the world of reality and not only to the world of men and women, then the opportunity will come and the dead poet who was Shakespeare’s sister will put on the body which she has so often laid down. Drawing her life from the lives of the unknown who were her forerunners, as her brother did before her, she will be born. As for her coming without that preparation, without that effort on our part, without that determination that when she is born again she shall find it possible to live and write her poetry, that we cannot expect, for that would he impossible. But I maintain that she would come if we worked for her, and that so to work, even in poverty and obscurity, is worth while.
It has been nearly a century since Virginia gave this lecture, if she were to magically step into the world today, would she smile at women's progress or with mouth agape, die of shock from the lack of? Where do women today stand in relation to where women stood in 1928?

Woolf believed that if women had the opportunity to earn a minimum living wage, and had the freedom to live on their/our own that we would come into our own as writers, artists and humans even. What Woolf didnt foresee is how the system of men would react to women having those possibilities. Today, women do have the possibility of earning a living wage and having rooms of their own, rooms to create works of art, of literature and rooms to create themselves away from the system of men. But what women do not have is the possibility of a life that isnt STILL being outlined for them, even before they are born BY the system of men!

Women STILL do not have the possibility of information that hasnt been molested by male fingers/male genitals.

Women STILL have their whole lives circumscribed by the system of men.

Women STILL cannot explore the world, the life of people/cultures without the (very REAL) fear/reality of rape.

Women STILL need to be afraid of the dark.

Women STILL edit their behaviour in the presence of men.

Women STILL dislike other women.

Women STILL dislike themselves.

Women STILL believe they are inferior.

Women STILL believe they must be mothers.

Women STILL mother males.

Women STILL are the servants of men.

Women STILL are AT the service of men.

Women STILL are viewed/portrayed as (even by men parading as women) sexual objects by the system of men.

Women STILL believe they need a man in order to exist.

Women STILL believe they need to BE a man to exist.

It is tragic that Woolf stepped into the River Ouse believing that the future for women held so much promise. But not more tragic than the cup of promise Woolf believed we'd be sipping our tea from today, which remains empty.