Scary Movie is a sexist and racist mess

Earlier today, I found myself browsing through Netflix and stumbled across Scary Movie, the 2000 “comedy” parodying teenage slasher and horror flicks. I’d seen the movie years ago, but was too young to understand the jokes and horror references. Now, as a 23 year old, I was less than pleased.

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The movie pokes fun at Scream and I know what you did last Summer, at the expense of young women and black people.

Marlon Wayans portrays Shorty Meeks, a black, stoner teenager who has a juvenile sense of humour and is stoned for most of the movie. Stereotype #1: black guy is a waster who contributes nothing to society.

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Anna Faris portrays Cindy Campbell, a somewhat clueless teenage girl whose boyfriend keeps pressuring her to have sex. Stereotype #2: teenage girl holds virginity as “precious” and “valuable”.

Throughout the movie, her boyfriend (Jon Abrahams as Bobby Loomis) persistently pressures her, mainly to perform oral sex on him. While the group of teenagers are driving together, their mutual friend (Lochlyn Munro as Greg Cox) stands up from the back of the car outside the ceiling window. Meanwhile, Bobby takes his penis out in the driver seat and tries to convince Cindy to go near it. While Greg is hanging out of the car, he steps on Cindy and forces her head down on top of Bobby’s dick. Bobby eggs Cindy on while she is essentially forced into his lap. This – the lack of consent and objectification of women – is seen as a “joke”.

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Later on in the movie, Cindy finally “gives in” and has sex with Bobby. During foreplay, Bobby keeps pushing Cindy’s head down to his crotch, again trying to force her to perform oral sex on him.

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On top of that, Greg frequently assaults Cindy throughout the movie. He beats her up out of anger, or to demonstrate a point.

So, what have we learned? That Scary Movie makes a satire out of sexual consent and domestic violence against women.

The white men remain characters in their own right, and are not stereotyped as a group in society.

I know, I know. It’s “comedy”, and “a satire”. But, at this expense? Satire is based on truth, on real life. Comedy that makes fun of sensitive issues such as these, in my opinion, is comedy in bad taste.

 

 

 

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Maybe I Really Am Just A Girl

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As a young woman, it feels like I spend most of my time trying to prove myself. Professionally, socially and intellectually. There will always be the snigger at my frequent use of the word “like”, or jabs at my giggly personality.

No-one ever bought it; me being smart. The saddest part is that even I didn’t. I could bore you to tears with tales of being patronized and belittled by authority figures since childhood, but I would be here all day.

It’s a Friday morning. I’m very proud of myself because for the first time in possible six months, I have risen from my slumber in good time before work. I go to the bathroom, set my phone face down on the window sill, and play aloud the American tones of one of my favourite YouTube vloggers.

I look in the mirror, and feel embarrassment at what I see. It suddenly dawns on me how damaged and worn I look. The skin beneath one of my eyes appears to be sun bleached white. The patch beneath the opposite eye is dark and speckled. Blackheads cover my bulbous nose, and my chin and forehead are dotted with bulging acne. One set of eyelashes are also bleached almost entirely white.

Horrified, it dawns on me that I have been showing up at work looking exactly like this for the past nine months. Waking up with ten minutes to go, throwing on some jeans and runners, and giving a quick brush to my yellow and crooked teeth.

What must people think of me?! And how do I change? I can diet. Try and rid my excess fat to be taken more seriously. But, wait. Maybe then I’ll be just a girl. I cringe at the mere thought. Imagine that… being just a girl! Ditsy, devoid of any personality traits, there merely to be eye candy when the intelligent men get bored from all of their intelligent men things. I shudder at the thought.

I have to pick one… be physically ugly but be quirky and intelligent… or be physically attractive but be boring and superficial. Since I have always fallen into the former by default, I can’t imagine suddenly trying to change to the latter.

Still though, I think, as I stare desperately at the worn and plain woman staring back at me in the mirror, I can’t go on like this.

As my brain tries to think of a solution to this tough call, my hands take action. I grab a tube of beige goo from the window sill, unscrew the cap, and smear it all over my face. Next is sneezy powder, before black paint is applied to my eyelids and lashes. I draw on some new lips with a red crayon. Now, at least I’m slightly more presentable.

I’ve some time to kill before work this morning. For the first time in forever I try to wear something different. Something that takes the attention away from my round belly and thundering thighs. Leggings? A long top?

Work feels different today. I am a walking doll! Maybe this paint and goo works to be taken more seriously, after all. I’m even referred to as a doll. All day, in fact. “All dolled up” was the term used, I believe. Doors are held open for me, and remarks are made about a fictitious “hot date” I will be attending later on tonight.

“Fair play to you!” one smiles. Should I feel proud? Should I feel accomplished that I’ve finally done what I was supposed to do, and apply the goo and paint to be a proper girl?

Another greets me with an arm squeeze, which takes me aback. I don’t know this person very well, and personal contact with people I hardly know feels uncomfortable. I feel this, inside, but the crayon lips force a smile nonetheless.

All my life, I have been taught to ridicule and dislike fellow women. I’ve been taught to see them as inferior intellectually, yet as a threat in terms of male attention. Blonde pretty girls are mean and stupid. Don’t be friends with them. They won’t amount to anything, anyway. Probably just be a trophy wife to some businessman. Isn’t it great to use your body to get places?! At least have some self respect.

Or, do I? Now that I’ve sold myself out to the goo and paint, am I still me? Awkward, loud, opinionated me? She might have smothered, beneath that gunk. I’m too scared to use it again, in case I lose her forever.

 

Feminists Hate Housewives and Mothers?!

There seems to be a misconception out there that we as feminists disrespect women who are housewives or mothers.

The same misconception is applied towards stereotypical “girly” women who like shopping, fashion etc.

Soz, but what kind of feminist could possibly disrespect/dislike housewives, mothers or “girly girls”?

I don’t get it. Really. Like, really.

The belief out there appears to be that feminists just want all women to be career women and nothing else to achieve gender equality.

This ideology would achieve a gender balance in statistics. But what would it solve on its own?

Well, the answer is we would have successful, high-earning women in all sectors…buttttt…we would also, y’know, die out as a race. It’s this word called reproduction, y’know?

The reality is many women have babies. Anyone who thinks they shouldn’t is probably a bit loopy.

I would never turn my nose down on a woman who decides to be a housewife and full time mother. I literally have no reason in my Goddamn mind why that would bother me.

If there are feminists out there who are of this belief, they… kinda need to, y’know, get a brain! (Yep! Feeling sassy today!)

The thing is that feminists want women to be able to make the choices that suit them.

So, if a woman decides to not have children, or not get married, or not be in a monogamist relationship, or not “settle down”, she is fully entitled to do so.

Furthermore, if a woman decides that she would like to get married and have children and care for and raise her family, and she decides that is her life calling and her ambition, then more power to her.

The point is that feminists, or at least this feminist right here, would like women to have the choice. We want women to be able to choose between career vs family, a bit of both, or heck, even neither. It’s when a lifestyle is forced upon a woman that there is an issue!

So, no, housewives, loving mothers and girly girls, we do not hate you or disrespect you… at least the normal feminists don’t.

If you are a feminist and disagree with me, I suggest you work on your superiority complex… and maybe realise that your five bachelor degrees and six masters degrees and two PhD’s are kinda, y’know… not reasons to feel you’re better than everyone else!

*** For the record, I think dedicated mothers are inspiring. As a childless, childish 21 year old college student, the thoughts of putting a child’s needs ahead of my own is… scary. It’s a pretty damn amazing thing to do to be honest. You’re strong as f*** for doing it. Don’t ever let some over-educated, pompous “feminist” tell you otherwise! You have put other people’s damn lives ahead of your own! You care for a family! These are definitions of strength! More power to your choice! Because every lifestyle choice, provided no-one is getting hurt, is valid and okay! ***

 

Feminist Myths Debunked

Myth #1 Feminists hate men.

Quite the contrary. You see, feminists strive for gender equality. This means that a proper feminist recognises the inequalities of both genders and discusses them to raise awareness and encourage progression. In fact, feminism is primarily about the issue of gender! Both, and all, genders! It has the word “feminine” in the word itself, so people shrug and scratch, and label feminism as a “women’s issue”.

It is a gender issue! Women in general suffer more inequality than men throughout the world, which is why we call it feminism. We of course recognise the male issues also and we focus on all issues! The right feminists do…

Myth #2 Feminists are angry or on their periods.

This goes back to the notion we all have, men and women, that females should be soft, delicate, reserved and… not very opinionated. Look pretty, girls, look pretty… It has become so normal for us to think of women as strictly either weak, sexual or potential mothers that we still have not gotten to the stage in the 21st century where we value a woman’s brain. Wow Aisling, what kind of people are you speaking to! Of course I value a woman’s brain! I’m sure you do. Wonderful! It would be helpful if the general, mainstream society did the same. #kthanksbye

Myth #3 Feminists think they are oppressed when they couldn’t possibly have any more entitlements.

Feminists themselves generally do not feel oppressed. They do however feel there are issues and restrictions regarding gender that may, possibly, I dunno, like, oppress ya. ‘Cause ya know, it’s only been happening a few hundred years and all that jazz. It’s like saying Irish Catholics think they are oppressed when they couldn’t possibly be less oppressed. Hello, culturally-mandatory-baptism-of-baby and condemnation-of-homosexuals, how ya doin’? You’re not feeling oppressed, are you? Are you???? Good, didn’t think so… #awks

Myth #4 Feminists are usually fat and ugly.

Fan girl moment, but have you seen Laci Green? #justsaying. Feminists can be, and are in actuality, of any shape and size…and level of physical attractiveness. In fact, my dearest male viewers, did you know that men can be feminists too? #shockhorror. I jest of course. The reason this myth exists is just another way of dismissing feminism as a valid movement. In other words, people spew out this myth as another way of deciding a woman’s personal happiness is, of course, determined by her physical attractiveness. Unfortunately, due to our sexist media, women will often judge themselves based primarily on physical appearance. But this is, of course, hugely damaging. It is also, of course, a subject for a totes different blog…

Myth #5 Male feminists are gay or womanly.

Do I even need to try and debunk this one? My IQ just dropped significantly (temporarily, I hope) from writing it, then reading it back over again. Phew, I’m feeling dizzy just glancing at it through my computer screen…

Again, we use this myth because a fem word is associated as being strictly feminine. (Whereas the word manager could apply to both genders… #justsayin

So yeah, anyone can be feminist, is what I was trying to say. Ya get me?!