In early February a hate group, whose name we shall not devote one more milliliter of precious ink to, coordinated a meet up of International proportions. The meeting, an intended symbolic gesture of solidarity between sickening, dangerous men, failed consummately in most respects. And yet, I still feel compelled to write about them.
One of the group’s intended gathering spots was here in Victoria BC– right across from our Legislative centre. Ultimately, a unanimous public outcry prevented the group, founded by an American blogger and “pick-up artist”, from meeting publicly, but it is widely held that the members of this sordid gang moved their meeting to a more private, underground location.
This group’s ostentatious attempt at a public meeting of corrupted minds, combined with the ruthless interrogations of female victims who were courageous enough to take a stand against Jian Ghomeshi at a trial of his own devise made me question how we, in our supposedly ‘enlightened’ and ‘progressive’ Western Culture, routinely act so monstrously toward women.
The answer, sadly, is found the very facade of ‘our’ Legislature’s quick-cracking walls– the crippled, primordial artifice across from which a tired, yet emboldened hate group attempted to convene. Similar inanities can be found in the Western Canon’s Religious, Historical, and Literary texts, texts that currently serve as our ‘society’s’ ideological framework.
And the statues! Encased and immortalized within the very architecture of our provincial state’s regal artifice, these statues exclusively depict men. These men (AKA– colonialist monsters) were surely steeped in Literary and Religious traditions comprised of texts exclusively written by and men, for men. Fleeting references to women almost exclusively depict them as manipulative temptresses; misogyny abounds at the center of Western ‘Civilization’– our very mythology whispers hatred into our ears.
A friend of mine recently posted an anonymous meme-type-thing, which brings a more personal touch to this abstract notion. It reads:
Being a woman is kind of like being a cyclist in a city where all the cars represent men. You’re supposed to be able to share the road equally with cars, but that’s not how it works. The roads are built for cars and you spend a great deal of physical and mental energy being defensive and trying not to get hurt. Some of the cars WANT you to get hurt. They think you don’t have any place on the road at all. And if you do get hit by a car, everyone makes excuses that it is your fault.
Misogyny, the “captive”-ating force which dominates our collective psyche, is carved into the walls of our legislative assembly. Propelled by woman-hating Western ideologies, these monstrous monuments still remain affixed to the exterior walls of the very buildings we venerate, and give homage to.
And yet, hope remains; the following pages shall bear witness to the strength, resolve, and power of those whom our society has forever tried to oppress. Here we join in on Ivor Cutlor’s immortal refrain: “Women of the world, take over. ‘cause if you don’t, the world will come to an end, and it won’t take long.” Amen, and amen.
portrait: Freyja Zazu