During the run-up to the 2016 U.S. presidential election, political pundits, comedians and others made sport of implying that Donald Trump either wanted to fuck his daughter, Ivanka Trump, or already had.1 2 3 GIFs of Trump’s daughters spurning his embraces, and video clips of him ogling them and referring to them as sex objects, circulated widely. While I didn’t think he had fucked them–and couldn’t possibly like him any less if he had–I couldn’t help but wonder: Why would Donald Trump want to fuck his daughter? Why would any father? So I Googled it. Continue reading Why would Donald Trump want to fuck his daughter?
Sex and gender seem inextricably married for most people. Many do not even know the difference between the two. This paper will explore those differences, the problems that arise when one comes into conflict with the other and possible solutions for those who face such problems. First there is a brief overview of some of the more prominent scientific approaches to sex and gender studies, next is an enumeration of some of the more common variant genders, then an analysis of the process of re-socialization for the individual whose gender identity conflicts with their designated sex, and finally we will conclude with three hypothetical and hopefully positive outcomes for the transgender community as a whole.
While watching old episodes of NCIS recently, I was surprised by how fake one of the cadavers appeared. Usually, props and makeup on the show look pretty realistic considering it’s an older program. Then I realized what made this body look so artificial: The woman had no nipples. That’s right: no nipples, no areolae–just pale, bulbous blobs protruding from a patulous thorax.
Hair is political
“Hair is political” has become a commonplace statement in black feminist circles. I don’t know that Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie is responsible for popularizing the phrase, but she certainly seems to be the person saying it most often these days. The first time I can recall hearing someone discuss the racial-cum-gender politics of hair was at the 2011 Annual Women’s Studies Conference in Pensacola, Florida. The speaker, Aphrodite Kocieda, described the straightening and lengthening of hair—and white mimicry in general—as a tool black women use to obtain visibility in a “racist, sexist, patriarchal society.”
That was a long time ago, but all this talk about racist hair and political hair lately has me wondering: What about white folk’s hair? If the straightening of black hair represents racial sublimation and an attempt to conform to other groups’ standards of beauty, then what does the curling and perming of European/white hair signify?
For Christian feminist theologians fighting patriarchy within the church and within the larger Christian religious tradition, the patriarchal image of God is an issue of primacy. As many battles as feminists and egalitarian reformers may win, whether it be the ordination of women or a simple revocation of the one-sided dictate for wives to submit to their husbands, the ultimate head of the church remains a patriarchal deity. Woman remains therefore, symbolically if not spiritually and practically, subordinate to man. To reconcile this inequity between man and woman as imago Dei, theologians have turned to the scriptures (canonical and apocryphal) and to the history of scriptural interpretation and lived faith to determine whether Christianity is an intrinsically patriarchal tradition or if it has simply been hijacked by men “who have made God in their own image” (Engelsman 1994, 156). If god is not wholly male, in image and in nature, then the Christian tradition is not intrinsically patriarchal and can evolve to meet modern standards of equality.
This post will not explore the concept of the Judeo-Christian god as a necessarily literal being having a set gender or nature. Herein the concept of god will receive treatment as a mythic character, subject to the mores of changing culture and evolving tradition. The nature of this god is best described as unknowable, transcending understanding, without limitation. Therefore, when we speak of the gender of god we are speaking not of literal gender but of the metaphors used to describe some divine attribute in a way that humankind can relate to it. When exclusively male-gender god metaphors are used, women are excluded from the central religious body and relegated to a lower spiritual standing than men. If female-gender god metaphors exist, and have existed from the beginning of the tradition, then the patriarchy of the current tradition is a construct not of the founders of the faith but of later men with an agenda and ideology askew of the tradition’s original intent.