26 Nov 2008

Sexist jokes never got anyone anywhere

I was just in All Bar One and heard THE MOST SEXIST JOKE:

Q: Why are hurricanes normally named after women?
A: When they come they are wild and wet, when they go they take your house and car with them!

Don't laugh! How rude. If I were to tell such a joke it would run as follows:

Q: Why are tropical storms often named after men?
A: Because they kill people.

You see: feminists can be funny too.

Did someone say Prostitute?

Well hello there ladies.

I just found this article 'online' from the Independent: the writer called Sophie Morris, is accusing US of sponsoring prostitution. Now, I tell you straight up Miss Independent (up-your-self) journalist: WE do NOT encourage prostitution. You wouldn't catch me dead wearing a Playboy bunny t-shit. In fact I was one of the main campaigners in a key subsidiary of the 'Ban the Bunny' Campaign, known as 'Harrow the Hare'.


Here are some of my thoughts on the article (which I would have written much much better than her):

1. "Victoria Andrews, 31, owns the lap-dancing club Aqua: Lounge in Southampton. She started dancing with friends when she was studying. "I went to audition with a group of housemates and we all got the job," she says. "It suddenly became more real, but we all made some cash on the first night and thought, 'Wow. This is great.'"

Posie Says: Do I really give a damn what Victoria thinks? She's a bloody prostitute for god's sake.

2. "Every sexual aid, every accoutrement, every raunchy negligée and multicoloured condom, has been freed from its restrictive hothouse and allowed to blossom in the open air. Sex is now on every high street, not just in the seedier areas of town. Have we reached sexual enlightenment? Categorically not. Deviant behaviour is as rampant as ever, and prostitution itself remains, in effect, illegal. But demand is on the up, out of control even. Do the people paying for it think that because we can talk about it pre-watershed, the moral arguments surrounding it have dissolved?"

Posie Says: Oh Fuck off Sophie! No one gives a shit what you think. Why are there so many question marks? It makes it look like you don't understand. Oh sorry, I forgot, YOU DON'T!

Men endorse this kind of behaviour, not women. And the women that do are too stupid to think about why they are doing it. That's why my brand of New Wave Suffrage shall be calling for a ban on sexual merchandise and castration for anyone consorting with sex workers (including women). Bin the Bunny? Why not Burn the Bunny?

3. "She (Sam) also has a theory about the people who use prostitutes. "Who's the punter? The punter is everyman. And why is it growing? Because they're disassociating from themselves sexually, and from their emotions. It's an expression of self-hate. Men who go to prostitutes, no matter how much they think they are functional, are people who can't be honest with themselves about who they are. When you scratch the surface and start to ask questions about their emotional relationship to their own sexuality, you find big dark holes."

Posie Says: Right on sister! I agree with you, you should know, you are friends with Emma Thompson (refer to article: click blog title for link).

I would go further to question exactly what men are trying to cover up here. I have a sneaky feeling that as society increasingly evolves men are starting to realise that in fact women are their intellectual superiors. Perhaps it is not only the uncontrollable male libido that is driving prostitution? If you follow this line of argument you might conclude that it is also fuelled by a male acceptance of immanent puerility?

4. Oh and the opinion of the 'lovable' Sebastian Horsley:

"Contrary to what those foul feminists will tell you, the prostitute is not a victim," he says. "If you talk to them, and I've met thousands (in what capacity, Sebastian? ) they don't often find themselves victimised and exploited, but the middle-class intellectuals who formulate their opinions for them tell them that they are (So, if the innocent, gentle middle-class intellectual is capable of forming the opinions of a zesty prostitute, who else is, Sebastian?). There's a whole rescue operation going on at the moment made up of social workers, community leaders and politicians, and it's in their interests to find suffering. There is exploitation, but there is exploitation in all industries."

Posie Says: I want you dead, Horsley. You. Have. Been. Noted.
cf. "I've met just thousands of them and they're really happy", well Sebastian, I've met 4 of them and they were miserable. We talked about the price of baked beans.

5. According to Samantha, there's now a growing number of women who hold down professional jobs and go on the game at the weekend. These women are not on the breadline, nor are they feeding a drug habit. No – their behaviour is a tragic indictment of obsessive consumerism. Whither a woman's sanctity when there's a new pair of Manolos and a trip to Chiva-Som in the offing?

Posie Says: Again I agree. These types of women are little more than spoons for the ladling of an almightily bitter soup, the foul blend of capitalism, poverty, poor education, sexism and inherent stupidity. Grab a gun and look for further details in first issue of I've Lost My Arm.

6. A summary of recommendations from the Home Office report "Tackling the demand for prostitution" (published 19 November):
* Make it an offence for people to pay for sex with someone who is controlled for another person's gain.
* Run a campaign aimed at sex buyers to raise awareness about trafficking for sexual exploitation.
* Amend the offences of kerb-crawling and persistent soliciting to allow prosecution for a first offence.
* Launch a national anti-kerb-crawling campaign and support forces in reducing street prostitution.
* Introduce closure powers for premises linked to sexual exploitation, allowing police to restrict access for up to three months.

Posie Says: Me and the New Wave Suffragettes will help you Ms Smith! And we'll knock off a few of those Belle de bloody Jour types too. Grasping wankers.

24 Nov 2008

the number 214 Bus

Just a quick note to say "thanks soooo much" to the incredibly sweet girl on the number 214 bus travelling from Camden to Angel.

There was this awful man sitting behind moi. He had ketchup (blood?) pouring from his lip and was shouting the most offensive things at me. I was scared. Yes, that's right lady readers, even I, Posie, get scared on transport in the dark.

With his male gaze burning my brain, I panicked. My eyes caroused the bus and then I saw this lovely girl sitting right next to the driver (very sensible).

"Come and sit over here!" she mouthed to me.

The man kept shouting, but the girl kept insisting.

So I moved and I thank god I did because, if I had not, I daren't think what might have happened.

Charles de Gaulle once said that China is full of the Chinese, so I feel at liberty to declare that buses travelling at night are filled with perverted old men who want to shout at empowered young females like myself. It's just a shame for them that other empowered young females also travel on night buses and we are not ashamed to stick together!

...en guard!

Posie and Out.

P.S. Please join my period group on Facebook! It's called 'Blood soaked tampon et al"

19 Nov 2008

I've Lost My Arm! A feminist magazine that shows other feminist magazines where to get off!

Sub-vexted and on the 'Verge' of tearing out my eyes (and my ovaries) in despair at the miserable quality of reading material available to the discerning feminist, I've done what any self-respecting lady writer with half a minute to spare would do, I've launched a magazine! Or, vagazine(!). I mean, it's not technically launched yet, the time for that will come when we're all lounging at the Groucho with a Pernod n' Rosso in one hand, a copy of I've Lost my Arm in another, a hammer tucked into a coat pocket.

In the meantime, I'm on the lookout for SUBMISSIONS from discerning lady writers - are you far too intelligent to pander to the pitiful standards of contemporary publishing? Are you disgusted with the screaming irony and so-called consumer 'choice' of post-feminism? Are you just a bit too old for so called 'third wave' feminism, does it make you go 'ooh, er'? Are you willing to save a post-feminist, even if it means killing them? Then this is the magazine for you.

I'm looking for challenging, articulate writing. I'm looking for women who would wield a weapon to fight for their rights. I'm looking for a massive Arts Council grant. Can you help?

The theme of the first issue will be: NEW WAVE SUFFRAGE - A MANIFESTO.

Check out the website (click post title!) it's up and running and will soon be unfurling with ideas and features like an attack flower.

Any thoughts, email me: posierider@gmail.com.

18 Nov 2008

BBC Complaint Result!

Received this morning by email (!)

Seriously though, is this the best they can do?

"Dear Miss Rider

Thanks for your e-mail regarding our 'Breakfast' programme.

I understand that you have concerns over what you feel were sexist comments made towards Sian Williams on the programme. I acknowledge that you believe that the presenter in question, Chris Hollins, should be disciplined because of these remarks.

Although all of our presenters are aware for the need for professionalism at all times, there will be times when light hearted humour comes into play amongst colleagues. I'm sure that this comment was meant as such and not meant to be taken in an offensive way.

This is not to excuse your feelings on the subject and I can assure you that your complaint has been registered on our audience log. This is a daily report of audience feedback that's circulated to many BBC staff, including members of the BBC Executive Board, channel controllers and other senior managers.

Thanks again for taking the time to contact us with your feedback.


Sarah Wilson
BBC Complaints"

Oh yeah, nice work getting a woman to respond, nice to hear from you 'Sarah'. Or should I say, Steven??

12 Nov 2008

Subtext? Subvexed more like it!

I am fuming. Not only does the future of my Me, Tim and my Quim (aka Me Ted and my Head) hang in the balance but someone has thoroughly shat on my parade in the form of a little publication they call 'Subtext'.


After writing a delicious piece on feminism and fruit i was bitterly disappointed to find out it had been...rejected. The taste was not sweet, it was bitter.

Let me know what you think. Here is a review from all those lovely people at the F-word!


Posie and Out.


Still no news from the BBC.

8 Nov 2008

Royal Mail Support Women's Rights at Bloomin' Last!

While the Beeb is blasted asunder, like a birthing womb, by the wave and maelstrom of righteous Feminist violence stirred up by Chris 'what a cockhead' Hollins, there is at least some Good News out there for ladies, and Lady Writers! (ie Ladies, right?)

Now you can send your Manuscripts, Submissions and Christmas Cards using only the snazziest, Ladiest Stamps!

Check out The Royal Mail's Women of Distinction Stamp collection, featuring such bastions of Femininity as Millitent Fawceps, Marie Stopes and Eleanor Rathbone.

Who said Women of the past secretly demonstrated their forebidden talent for writing in the socially acceptable form of the letter? Well, I say let's Politicise letters, Ladies! Let's take Women's Rights out of the Envelope and into the In-Tray!

6 Nov 2008

A sample letter for your complaint

I have constructed a letter below for you to post to the Beeb website:http://www.bbc.co.uk/complaints/complaints_stage1.shtml

Dear Sir,

I say 'Sir' and not 'Sir/Madam' because it has recently been brought to my attention that your corporation is in fact extremely mysogynist towards women. I was shocked the other day (Tuesday, 4th November 2008) by the comments of a Mr Chris Hollins (BBC Sports presenter) who told the lovely Sian on Breakfast News that he, I quote had 'finally got her alone on the sofa".

Needless to say I find this kind of language highly offensive and urge you to discipline My Hollins straight away.

This behaviour is NOT ON. It is derogatory towards women and as a Feminist I feel it is my duty to protect women like Sian who are less intelligent than myself.

I look forward to seeing Mr Hollins behave himself in the future.

Goodbye SIR.

Spread the Word...


I HATE you


BBC: The Basically for Boys Corporation!

OR Chris Hollins, or why Sport is as Crap as the BBC

Forgot to say:

I spat out my scrambled eggs this morning after hearing the sly remark of Chris 'dickhead' Hollins (the 'S' stands for Sexism and Sports) Sports presenter for BBC Breakfast, who perversely cooed to the lovely Sian Williams 'Finally Sian, I get you alone on the sofa...'

Alone on the sofa? Aloooooone on the sooooofa? Who does this football hooligan think he is?

Oh Sian finally Mark's away covering the American election and I 'get you alone on the sofa'!

I'd like to get you alone in an incinerator Chris Hollins, I'd like to burn you into tiny pieces of ash and eat you. In fact I'd just like to get you AND the sofa, which inspires memories of 80s Nescafe adverts, full stop. Not only are you both chauvinists you are an out of date chauvinists which is the most unacceptable chauvinism of all.

So Posie being Me, and Me being Posie (yes I have been reading Hegel) called the BBC to let them know my thoughts. Yet it seems any offense against a woman bears little resonance with the fat cat bosses at the Basically Boys Corporation. Needless to say the bastards did not take my complaint seriously and told me I was overreacting. OVERREACTING, moi?

So I am appealing to all my lady readers to call up the Beeb and let their voices be heard!!

Poor Sian- someone has to help her! She is only a BBC newsreader, who doesn't even realise when she is being sexually harassed! Get on the phone, get online, DO something. If intelligent, accomplished women like you and I can't do something to help imbeciles like Sian, then what must we be thinking we have to do with ourselves?

Down with Chris, up with Satanic Sluts, down with Andrew Sachs, burn Russel Brand, eat Johnathan Ross, love Hillary Clinton!

(Hillary: you will always be the President of MY United States!)

Posie and out.

The Premonitions of A Lady

Here's the first scene of my play, it's almost completed - I've been writing it for 14 years! It's the tale of a modern woman who uncovers secrets about her past on the death of her Mother! It reminds me of Virginia Woolf and Ivy Compton Burnett - what do you think???

Light: Spot JUDITH. Spot CHARLIE.

Buy your goods here! Want stuff? I’ve got stuff! Good morning Lady Judith, don’t you look a picture this fine day!
Do you have any milk Charlie?
Nah, nah milk.
Well what about cotton?
Nah, none of that neither. Price of cotton’s sky-rocketed what with all them jeans factories opening up in the New World.

(Narratorial) The year was 1934, and I, Judith Coalstream, all round modern woman, was sowing barley in my window box in Bloomsbury. Everything was changing so fast; it was a new age of hope, of opportunities for women.

(Quiet) Do you have any disposable razors?
Milady! What’s a nice girl like you want with a disposable razor?
Never mind that, have you got any?
I’ve got one left, but it’s going to cost you.
See you at the tradesman’s entrance.

Telephone ringing

Wait a moment Charlie, it’s my telephone.

JUDITH answers telephone, holding disposable razor.

(On Telephone) Judith?
Uncle, is that you?
Yes Judith, it’s the Captain. You aren’t holding a disposable razor are you?
Why no, of course not!
Good. In that case I’ve got some terrible news. Your mother she’s…dead.
Oh dear.
Yes, as dead as your dead father. Her addiction to ethanol finally caught up with her. We found her dead, in bed, this morning and I thank God you’re not holding a disposable razor because if you were I dread to think what you might do with it.

SD: JUDITH looks meaningfully at the razor.

Of course you must come from London at once. Can you bear to return home after all these years?

Light: Black out

3 Nov 2008

Posie at the Movies!

Fear ye not lady readers! I have returned from my fearless mission! Now I know I said I was going to toss some barrels with the big boys but when I got there they were EXTREMELY big and they were on fire. In fact one man lost an arm and a small child perished in the flames.

I read about this in the local paper however, for I unfortunately didn't make it to the toss pot parade. My lovely friend George just makes the best mulled cider you see, and we WERE in Devon. One thing led to another and before I knew where I was, I was dancing on a haystack with a village local. Then black, maybe I fell? Don't remember much after that, except vague memories of snorting my H&B steroids...

Anyway posie projects posie projects posie projects: Posie's projects just keep coming, eh gals? I'm planning a move into movie reviewing, everyone's doing it and I met a nice lady at G2 who says they're always looking for experienced contributors to their pages, a far cry from the attitude they adopted when I was a humble work experience gal in the 1990s - "Oh no Posie, they said, you can't be a journalist, but you can be my PA if you like. Minimum wage? What's that? Oh no Posie, women's pay cuts aren't a 'story', not unless we can find a victim to profile. Can you find a victim Posie? We need a victim! We need a victim!"

Fucking hacks.

I was half tempted to tell them to stick it, especially seeing as Paul Pott, the bastard Junior Features ed. who I worked under, sometimes literally (yes gals, a budding journo's gotta do what a budding journo's etc ad nauseam) is now Head of Features, whatever that means. Fortunately the temptation to 'stick it to the man', via the use of, you guessed it, an expertly penned 'feature' plastered all over his precious Gbloody2 was too, too much.

So, here goes. Let me know what you think!

I've Loved you So Long (0ct 2008. French) Reviewed by Posie Rider.
Starring the inimitable Kristen Scott Thomas, this heartbreaking film charts the return to sanity of a woman who has been in prison for killing her son! Supported by her slightly wet sister, a professor of 'literature' at an unspecified French University, she rebuilds her life and starts doing proper things again, as for example when she leaves prison she looks very haggard, but by the middle of the film she's wearing earrings and make-up and smoking a lot less. Along the way she attracts a myriad of male suitors, some of whom kill themselves and others who are sensitive and like art - I know how you feel sister!

This film was particularly engrossing for one of two reasons. Firstly, Scott-Thomas is especially beautiful, whether she is looking haggard or not. I only just resisted the temptation to touch her face. I would have mostly liked to stroke her powdery eyelids.

Secondly, the portrayal of the relationship between the two main characters (who are WOMEN) is very strong, as they manage to talk for entire scenes without mentioning their husbands, children or sex lives. And, seeing as the film is about a woman who killed her child, this is far from easy.

The film was in French, although at one point a character, who was a bit mad, spoke in English, and do you know the remarkable thing was, I didn't even notice! And they had been speaking French the whole way through. I turned to my compatriots, terribly literary types who know about these sorts of things, and they had definitely noticed. I wonder why I didn't? Perhaps I am far more intelligent than I actually realised.

The plot dwindled, however, towards the end when we discovered why she had in fact killed her child - just when I was beginning to revel in the challenging Medea re-imagined undertones, it turns out the child was ill and she was just 'being kind'. Now, this was disappointing. Some slushy sentimentalists were sated by this, I'm sure, but it begs the question: is art house cinema (I assume this was art house, I mean it was in French although the sound track was a little Dawson's Creek) sorry, is art house cinema not brave enough to tackle an honest portrait of a female child-murderer? Would it not have been far more interesting to force us into sympathy with a character we knew was technically pathological? OBViously NOT. The rights to my own novel, Me Tim and My Quim, were recently acquired by Paramount, and the first thing they did was to scour my viciously acerbic psycho-lust psychological thriller of all of its challenging sexual elements: the rape of the gerbil, Rosie's botched suicide attempt with a Gillete Ladyshave, Tim's death at the hands of Rosie's friend Lucy who simply couldn't take Rosie talking about Tim any more. I know, right? Well, suffice to say, once Cameron Diaz has had her famous 'creative input', ie. grubby little fingers, all over it, it'll be as weak as a Starbuck's Chai Latte.

Anyway, I can't help but think that they softened this movie somewhat in translation. Perhaps the original script was far more edgy, and perhaps she killed her kid because she just didn't like him? Another criticism is there were an awful of redemptive scenes in which she made cakes and did the washing up - cue gushing music and lingering shots of her lovely puffy eyes.

I hope I'm not alone in saying I would rather have my tubes tied than spend a Saturday afternoon making scones.

Summary - 3 Stars.