to pseudofeminists

Pop-culture is a bit of a plague and a blessing for the deconstructive among us. Everything, every single thing can be popularised and there’s a very widely available formula for doing this. But this is a different phenomenon altogether, it’s old, traditional, versatile and in the very core of human evolution – patriarchy, this time, disguised as the popular feminism.

Patriarchy, as a meme, seems to be incredibly persistent and eternally topical. Feminism is not about voicing the views of a repressed minority, but about the disillusioned majority. Now, with all the feminist literature, art and lobbying, a lot of men, considering themselves of higher intellectual foresight than the general population, express radically feminist opinions and a lot of these men deeply believe in what they’re supporting, or at least believe they do. The same goes for a lot of women and does not leave the queer community outside.

However, it’s not before you get to know them intimately and their relationships to women or other women, that you realise it’s all fabricated and in fact they’re replicating the very issues they believe to be addressing. This gives additional value to the patriarchy meme, which seems to be like a virus no one can find the cure for, in fact one that maybe almost symbiotic to human existence, considering the various intricate ways, in which it penetrates intimacy and has done throughout human history.

What’s interesting about this type of post-patriarchy, modern societies are plagued with, is that it usually manifests itself as something as intimate as sexual vice or recreational drug use-related behaviours. Thus, addressing it, is almost like one is a puritan, trying to corner people for enjoying themselves or “opening their minds”. Not all people who feel horny or high, however become sexists, that state of low inhibition and liberation, only helps in releasing past traumas in people having been subject to some kind of emotional or sexual abuse, with patriarchy being in one way or another the ultimate cause. Partying for many people is a way of dealing with trauma and exploring uninhibitedly their darkest deepest sides.

However, having seen people being horny or high and exhibiting no sexist behaviour, I am convinced that the pseudofenists usually have something to get out of their system. I’ve seen people shatter relationships, just because they felt like flirting or being out of their heads or resorting to abuse and violence as a final patriarchic state of decompression. The next day everyone might be willing to cut them some slack and it’s not that any damage is irreparable, it’s that their deep faith in the patriarch motives of the past actually manifested itself, yet making it somewhat difficult to pinpoint the underlying traumas and memes in the post-modern setting of bars and clubs. It’s that the lowering of their feminist intellectual facade and their coherance to patriarch prototypes of behaviour left them bare.

Everyone sees it, but everyone hides from it, is it because everyone has something to hide? Is it because judging someone strictly and based on political values makes people fearful that they might be judged some day as well? Is it because patriarchy is the vice of the masses? Is it because we’ve all been somewhat molested through a look, a touch or a more violent act by a pseudofeminist when we were children? and is it because our mothers were too afraid to speak-up? And if we’re all sick, then what is sick? Is it the hurt feelings of a mother who thought it best to shut her mouth and move on? Embrace it or address it?


a weekend that he went away

floated through the weekend

a weekend reminding me so many other weekends when he had gone away

that sense of freedom and profound sadness

reminder of the parting fate of all bonds

immediately I run as fast as I could and dived into art head-first

what a magnificent coincidence that documenta 14 was opening that weekend

exhibition spaces, performances and small dark rooms for screenings all over Athens

tall blond elves, I cared about as much as the suspicious dark native dwarfs that roamed around me, where as unwilling to interact as me

I had to consciously put effort into observing them for the sake of having a clear idea of the politics behind the art

I cared very little about human beings

the only humans I made contact with where the ones that would facilitate the social norms of the transparency I tried to achieve

I socialised mechanically and yet naturally, exhibiting just about the right degree of emotion

in any case, the recent tragic events and the shortsightedness in which everyone had dealt with them, just seemed exhausting to face again

since everyone was clearly incapable of listening, I would give them exactly the amount of me they seemed to be comfortable with

clearly an amount that did not represent me, but one that would grant me immunity from their pitiful brain capacities striving to overcome their self-absorption

on Monday I was still thirsty for more, so I attended a theater play and someone’s birthday drinks

but sadly stupidity won’t leave you alone – it doesn’t know what it is it’s sensing, but it is sensing someone faking something and due to lack of analytical skills, it just has to break your balls

no paintings on the walls to distract anyone, no intallations and no elves, so the dwarfs swiftly got to work

I’m pretty sure they were talking about things and relationships concerning me, but it’s weird because they weren’t listening to anything I was saying

they seemed to know better than I did what I was thinking or feeling or even what had happened, funny because their descriptions reminded me of nothing

my attempts to protest where clearly unwelcome and so where my attempts to explain

so once more I sat and listened to people talking about my life, my relationships and things that had happened to me

by the end of the evening I had again become disconnected to my body, a state in which I seemed to be finding myself quite often when going out

I smiled politely and didn’t question any of the bullshit I was hearing

that night I dreamed that he was shivering in a corner, but I was unwilling to approach and comfort him due to lack of emotional resources

their mumbling had drained me, the exposure to shit had enviously destroyed any desire for intimacy

in their minds they were winning, but in mine there was never a race, as soon as you let them in, the game is already over