For the purposes of my research, I am now reading a lot of this extremely obnoxious feminist theory of the 1980s and 1990s. I’m sick as it is, and this endless blabber about how logic, reason and language are male, while knitting, sewing, lack of reason, illogical behavior, silence and intuition are all female and let’s celebrate that because feminism is about pointing out, time and again, how men are women are irrevocably and hopelessly different, is not helping.
I remember how the first time I read Hélène Cixous with her “feminine writing”, the special language of women, and “write with your vagina” crapola, I almost vomited. It became immediately clear to me why the most pathetic, mumbling, insecure, will-debase-myself-to-get-some-guy’s-approval women could be located precisely among these pseudo-feminist organizers of knitting bees and authors of “let’s celebrate female difference” theory.
I have a cold and I’m forced to read these stupid texts, which is why I’m irritable. The good news is that I’m going to an India Night at my university later today, and that is bound to cure me of both physical and mental suffering I’m experiencing.