"Woman is the Nigger of the World" - John Lennon & Yoko Ono
Woman is the nigger of the world
Yes she is... think about it
Woman is the nigger of the world
Think about it... do something about it
We make her paint her face and dance
If she won't be a slave, we say that she don't love us
If she's real, we say she's trying to be a man
While putting her down we pretend that she's above us
Woman is the nigger of the world... yes she is
If you don't believe me, take a look at the one you're with
Woman is the slave of the slaves
Ah, yeh... better scream about it
We make her bear and raise our children
And then we leave her flat for being a fat old mother hen
We tell her home is the only place she should be
Then we complain that she's too unworldly to be our friend
Woman is the nigger of the world... yes she is
If you don't believe me, take a look at the one you're with
Woman is the slave to the slaves
Yeh (think about it)
We insult her every day on TV
And wonder why she has no guts or confidence
When she's young, we kill her will to be free
While telling her not to be so smart
We put her down for being so dumb
Woman is the nigger of the world
Yes she is...
If you don't believe me, take a look at the one you're with
Woman is the slave to the slaves
Yes, she is...
If you believe me, you better scream about it
We make her paint her face and dance
We make her paint her face and dance
We make her paint her face and dance
---
My mother is a Munchausen by proxy who used her physical strength (which was considerable for a woman) when I was a child and her financial strength (which is considerable for anyone) in my adulthood to intimidate and terrorize me my whole life. If my sister would deal with her, I would do to my sister exactly what I resent that my sister has done to me, which is to have nothing to do with my mother and leave all responsibility for the manipulative and selfish monster on me. If my sister could deal with my mother, I would entertain the notion that I was just harbouring resentment from childhood abuse, which would be petty and serve no point. However, my sister is a perfectly upstanding citizen with a professional job and a normal social life. Soooo, I am certain that I am clearly evaluating the situation of my family's current matriarch.
However, in the spirit of the upcoming day, I suppose I will say that it is her very dominating character that has often gained my respect. She was never willing to bow down to anyone, man or woman. Mascara is about all she has ever used to paint her face. She always interpreted her inability to move up at work to not being as pretty as the younger girls.
Of course, this is all a lot more complex than whether she was a free-willed feminist or an abuser continuing the cycle. For one thing, she is so Conservative that she will go to her grave hiding her obvious bisexuality, and she has voted a straight Republican ticket her whole life. Her conservatism has also prevented her from holding her father responsible for anything. She will talk about my grandmother pleading with my grandfather, "Bob, you're gonna kill her!" and crumbling up her eyeglasses in her hands, and she will admit to his abuse of my grandmother, which, of course, began after my mother moved out, but she will never say that he physically abused her. She goes on and on about how idealistic her childhood was and how much her parents loved her. She hates hearing her friends speak of the abuse that they suffered at the hands of their parents, and rarely acknowledges that things like that happened in the 50's.
My grandfather died three years before my birth, but he was the only true male role model in my life. Honestly, I think I understand the man somewhat. His father died when he was quite young, and his mother was a stern German woman from Indiana. My earliest memory is of her lying blind in her death-bed and feeling my face for the first time and saying, He looks like Bob. Perhaps I was damned from that moment. I certainly came to know my grandfathers impotence and violence. On the other hand, I doubt he would have liked me much. He had his uncles and brothers as well as sisters. I had nothing but stern German Hoosier women, and their muffled hatred of men rubbed off on me certainly in my own misandry and my own self-hatred. Being the object of my hatred I think put me in a unique position to figure things out, if, at the same time, being powerless to resolve anything. The overused AA adage has brought me a lot of peace in this.
My mother will not confront her demons. Maybe facing her abusers forces her to acknowledge the pain she has caused in a manner that is too emotionally severe for her. I dont think a person could remain sane in doing this. I certainly havent!
In the end, I think that is the nature of truth. The truth shall set you free from sanity, from any semblance of a normal life. Property is one of the few lies I have yet to confess. What after that? Will life still be sacred? If I kick a rock, will I fall through the floor?
Maybe my mother is right. Maybe ignorance is bliss. Odd that she seems so much like a child to me. Makes me feel arrogant. Then again, I am arrogant.
But I dont care. My mother will die as does every other fool who accepts what must be. Me? My kitty and I will see the last light of the universe, and then Ill figure out what to do next!
Woman is the nigger of the world
Yes she is... think about it
Woman is the nigger of the world
Think about it... do something about it
We make her paint her face and dance
If she won't be a slave, we say that she don't love us
If she's real, we say she's trying to be a man
While putting her down we pretend that she's above us
Woman is the nigger of the world... yes she is
If you don't believe me, take a look at the one you're with
Woman is the slave of the slaves
Ah, yeh... better scream about it
We make her bear and raise our children
And then we leave her flat for being a fat old mother hen
We tell her home is the only place she should be
Then we complain that she's too unworldly to be our friend
Woman is the nigger of the world... yes she is
If you don't believe me, take a look at the one you're with
Woman is the slave to the slaves
Yeh (think about it)
We insult her every day on TV
And wonder why she has no guts or confidence
When she's young, we kill her will to be free
While telling her not to be so smart
We put her down for being so dumb
Woman is the nigger of the world
Yes she is...
If you don't believe me, take a look at the one you're with
Woman is the slave to the slaves
Yes, she is...
If you believe me, you better scream about it
We make her paint her face and dance
We make her paint her face and dance
We make her paint her face and dance
---
My mother is a Munchausen by proxy who used her physical strength (which was considerable for a woman) when I was a child and her financial strength (which is considerable for anyone) in my adulthood to intimidate and terrorize me my whole life. If my sister would deal with her, I would do to my sister exactly what I resent that my sister has done to me, which is to have nothing to do with my mother and leave all responsibility for the manipulative and selfish monster on me. If my sister could deal with my mother, I would entertain the notion that I was just harbouring resentment from childhood abuse, which would be petty and serve no point. However, my sister is a perfectly upstanding citizen with a professional job and a normal social life. Soooo, I am certain that I am clearly evaluating the situation of my family's current matriarch.
However, in the spirit of the upcoming day, I suppose I will say that it is her very dominating character that has often gained my respect. She was never willing to bow down to anyone, man or woman. Mascara is about all she has ever used to paint her face. She always interpreted her inability to move up at work to not being as pretty as the younger girls.
Of course, this is all a lot more complex than whether she was a free-willed feminist or an abuser continuing the cycle. For one thing, she is so Conservative that she will go to her grave hiding her obvious bisexuality, and she has voted a straight Republican ticket her whole life. Her conservatism has also prevented her from holding her father responsible for anything. She will talk about my grandmother pleading with my grandfather, "Bob, you're gonna kill her!" and crumbling up her eyeglasses in her hands, and she will admit to his abuse of my grandmother, which, of course, began after my mother moved out, but she will never say that he physically abused her. She goes on and on about how idealistic her childhood was and how much her parents loved her. She hates hearing her friends speak of the abuse that they suffered at the hands of their parents, and rarely acknowledges that things like that happened in the 50's.
My grandfather died three years before my birth, but he was the only true male role model in my life. Honestly, I think I understand the man somewhat. His father died when he was quite young, and his mother was a stern German woman from Indiana. My earliest memory is of her lying blind in her death-bed and feeling my face for the first time and saying, He looks like Bob. Perhaps I was damned from that moment. I certainly came to know my grandfathers impotence and violence. On the other hand, I doubt he would have liked me much. He had his uncles and brothers as well as sisters. I had nothing but stern German Hoosier women, and their muffled hatred of men rubbed off on me certainly in my own misandry and my own self-hatred. Being the object of my hatred I think put me in a unique position to figure things out, if, at the same time, being powerless to resolve anything. The overused AA adage has brought me a lot of peace in this.
My mother will not confront her demons. Maybe facing her abusers forces her to acknowledge the pain she has caused in a manner that is too emotionally severe for her. I dont think a person could remain sane in doing this. I certainly havent!
In the end, I think that is the nature of truth. The truth shall set you free from sanity, from any semblance of a normal life. Property is one of the few lies I have yet to confess. What after that? Will life still be sacred? If I kick a rock, will I fall through the floor?
Maybe my mother is right. Maybe ignorance is bliss. Odd that she seems so much like a child to me. Makes me feel arrogant. Then again, I am arrogant.
But I dont care. My mother will die as does every other fool who accepts what must be. Me? My kitty and I will see the last light of the universe, and then Ill figure out what to do next!
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
=)
the night i wrote that i just wanted a good cuddle with someone. preferably someone who cared for me just as much as i did for them. i don't know what i was thinking.
i couldn't make boys stop and crash cars. but it would be funny if i could.