A woman can unequivocably be referred to as noble if her face always shows
a clear emotional echo of other people. A truly autonomous character identity
is to me a logical contradiction, since a character, of any kind that I can
conceive of, can only be defined through relation to a political context
involving other characters. Thus an appearance on the face of such a person,
of emotional autonomy, would have to be either a hoax or an expression of
ghastly heartlessness.
 
 
 
 
                  Referring to a Woman as a Bitch
 
 
 
 
  
   I associate the word bitch, used as a condemnation, with a traditional
prohibition on autonomous verbal and mechanistic thinking in organized
society. A bitch, to me, is anyone who enforces this, through mocking or
condescending remarks, political sabotage, filibuster, or relentless whining
criticism. I see the prohibition as an unavoidable quirk of a character
identity or someone holding a formal social role, maximizing technical
efficiency and ability in spite of being completely unable to break
character when faced with a mechanical failure or a verbal paradox.
   Ironically, many men use a formal social role for themselves to disguise
their autonomous thinking, and then become enforcers against other men who
are being undisguised and autonomous in a totally different way. I've often
seen this in roommates, parents, building inspectors, policemen and
ex-military people; but they are generally aware and embarrassed about it
and don't enforce outside of their defined jurisdiction. Women, on the other
hand, only seem to get into those social roles out of a fascination with
autonomous thinkers, and actually encourage them. At a personal level
though, such as during any uncontrolled encounter, virtually all women
enforce against my autonomous thoughts; through being a bitch if necessary.
   Being loathe to escalate a bad vibe, I use the word bitch only to
destroy a social trap and a relationship, but I'm inclined to legitimize
anyone's use of the word, as a possible attempt to wrestle with the issue.
For me and apparently everyone else, keeping a conceptual identity is a
horrible experience without the magic of autonomous inventive thinking,
easily inspiring resistance; or, in my case, an avoidance of most women and
most men who maintain a social role.
   Sense of humor expresses this social paradox the best for me. During a
six month period when I was twenty or so, I was a political activist in a
group resisting development of nuclear weapons. I and two other fellows were
the primary brainstormers and facilitators, leading through a continuous
banter of good-natured humorous remarks, suggestions and images that wore
thin for a silent but numerous feminine contingent. I eventually succumbed
to their silent bad vibe and exited the group, confused and without
retaining any rapport with the other fellows.
   Something similiar happened with the construction of a unique all
concrete house I helped build. The contractor who designed the house told
me that he intended to build the whole thing primarily alone,
subcontracting the wiring and concrete pumping, and enlisting temporary
help for rebar tying. After three days of rebar tying, the humorous banter
between us had caught fire as with the previous two fellows, so we worked
together for the rest of the project, designing and repositioning forms,
setting rebar, laying the wiring conduit, and tying on chicken wire. The
magical rapport ended when I refused to continue our association into a
second project. He aspired to aquiring a huge amount of money, whereas I
had serious misgivings about industrial ambition generally and no clear
plan for the $5,000 I'd already saved during our four month house building.
   Recently I had an exchange of mock insults with a teenage boy,
alternating typing short remarks on my computer. They illustrate a form
that this kind of banter can take:
  >>I took a long whiz and floated into the next county while you were
writing.
  --Get back here!I didn't say you could fly away yet!
  >>The wind is a fickle master and I was caught unawares seeing the whole
potato in a blade of grass.
  --Again, I say that makes no sense whatsoever! If you want to make better
remarks and insults go to www.Racist and Sexual comments.com!
  >>I'm polite as a button.
  --Blablablablablablabla! You can say that you're completely harmless and
turn your pantyhose inside out and I still won't believe you!
  >>If you had had a longer railroad spike for breakfast then all would be
well.
  --Stop insulting me! Oh, well. Alls fair in love and war!
  >>I wish you didn't melt in the rain. It makes such a mess on my shirt!
  --Have you ever heard of "Even a rose has its thorns!" I don't think so,
because I don't cry that much! Anyway, get down to the point!
  >>I have now so I'm grabbing that curly and running with it!
  --Ah, let's see, what was it? Ah, yes, I'm rubber, your glue, whatever
you say bounces off me and sticks to you! Ha! I win!
  >>Oh no, the rind is a slimeduck!
 
   Before this exchange I had never engaged this sort of humor using either
overt insulting phrases or remarks intending no constructive meaning. Some
of my male roommates are inclined towards this same sort of banter in
regular conversation, though it's much harder to invent quick enough for
talking.
   The banter I and other men invent almost always expresses real and
constructive ideas about issues that matter at least to the speaker, but
with the element of conflict presented as a cute wonder, to be exalted
rather than fixed. For example my activist friends and I would cheerfully
rehearse remarks to dubious passersby with an air of delighting in a chance
to have an opposing team to hone our rhetoric with, and my atheist house
building friend would often warmly exclaim "praise the lord" when an
impossible dilemma succumbed to our persistence.
   Symbolic alliegence, such as atheists not praising god, people using
loaded words only in traditional ways, someone saying goodbye or focusing
on something in the manner that's characteristic of them, a vegetarian
eating no meat, goofiness about trivia, or seriousness about tragedy, gets
forgotten in such a game, replaced entirely by human alliegence. But
because symbolism forms the backbone of a lot of social choreography, no
woman seems able to express any light-heartedness in a conceptual banter
that overtly trashes alliegence to all symbols; so it has to end, or get
quickly anchored properly symbolically, if "there are ladies present" who
are not going to be silent bystanders or who are an object of male ambition.
I, on the other hand, lose any light-heartedness in the presence of any
presumption of symbolic alliegence, so I focus on nonverbal sharing and
exploration or I leave.
   I see Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland as an ambitious attempt to win
permission to completely drop symbolic alliegence. He tells his story in
stages to a little girl, and his main character is also a little girl who
gets progressively presented with characters whose lives are terrifyingly
soulless, like a voice actuated automated switchboard, and brutally
indifferent to any conventional symbolic alliegence. For the little girl
who hears the story, and for the reader, there is Alice to bravely lead the
storyline into the nothingness of Wonderland; but for Alice there is nobody;
she is like Joan of Arc to me, an unbelievable person.
   In the usual story, such as the land of Oz, the characters who are what
I call soulless are often portrayed as being evil, with an intelligence
that's a real challenge to thwart. But in Wonderland even the scary Red
Queen, representing the bitch, comes across to me as dangerously hysterical
and maybe mentally retarded, but not clever and psychotically diabolical.
   Other writers have illustrated this trouble by completely ignoring it;
for example the stories of science fiction by Ray Bradbury, in which no
character has a soul, no character is evil and challenge arises in the story
from innocent experiments or anomolies in the whole universe; and those of
Jane Austen, in which every character has a soul, most have a tendency
towards being intelligently evil at times and the universe is a well oiled
machine that no one ever experiments with.
   Having played both sides of the matter, I see no real conflict of
interest. Symbolic alliegence and the precise arrangements of technical
support of society have little directly to do with choreography or feeling
creation unless someone deliberately creates a spell tying them, generally
through a formal meeting of some sort or a declaration that draws attention
to the symbol; a spell that can be just as deliberately untied. That I can
tell, the only motive for creating such a spell is to establish a feeling of
physical security based on illusion, such as with religious ideas or
citizenship, rather than based on real objects and real people who care.
   Worse yet, I see a direct link betweeen people who establish personal
security without reference to reality and people who engage in choreographic
trashing of other people, deliberately hurting people's feelings through
specifically mocking their obsessive interests or habits; adherence to
symbolic alliegence seems to go with indifference about actual alliegence
to people.
   Though no woman has shown me empathy for my drive to originate every
device and idea in my life, those that I have gotten to know who have
specific vital relationships in their life never engage in choreographic
trashing and even seem to be oblivious of the idea of symbolic alliegence,
like they don't even know about it; and more important, my form of humor
leaves them blank and puzzled rather than indignant or angry.
   When I kept a character identity going I was never called a bitch or
even drew a bad vibe; I think because I managed to never initiate anything
really striking or important to anyone unaware of drama; having an inside
scoop on what that meant. I consider that to be a copout on my part, made
necessary by the temporary nature of my character.
   But I wish that every woman would avoid being called a bitch by
establishing significant choreographic power in her life solely through
actual choreographic friendship and fidelity, becoming a "cunt" rather than
by being a bitch; anyone taking significant action alone in a character
identity risks becoming a bitch if anything goes wrong unexpectedly, so they
must never do anything significant autonomously. And for my purposes in
life, the use of familiars (known beings whose feelings require no
accountability) doesn't count as a shared event. If a woman gets called a
bitch, or thinks someone sees her that way, she should emediately join
forces for real with anyone who is open, kind and reasonably
choreographically aware; and if her life is too isolated then she needs to
do something about that real soon.
   Significantly there is another word, asshole, which seems, in popular
use, to refer to the parallel nature in the lives of men. Many women focus
their whole visible lives on the deliberate creation of feelings in
themselves, in pet animals and in other people; and some people will attack
them for it if they catch them at it; perhaps even call them a bitch as a
retalatory tease.
   Listening to women talk to the two year old I've been hanging out with
has given me a striking example of a light-hearted though not humorous
banter, that I cannot engage at all with my mind autonomously active. The
women say the child's name a lot and say remarks like "hi, Jimmy" or "Is
that Jimmy's car?", punctuating their speech with over-expressed gestures
and a tone of voice that completely ignors any sense of epic meaning that I
can comprehend. Some other men seem able to very briefly engage this way
with my grandson but they speak with none of the delight and easy abandon of
the women; that is, they lack light-heartedness.
   I define the word asshole as a person who overtly sabotages this kind of
artificial creation of feelings by belittling any action or remark that is
a logical non sequitur, creating practical hassles in the life of their
object people or by outright violence. The men I've seen being an asshole
don't seem at all aware of what actually rattled them or what the
consequences of their action will be. I'm generally able to field roommates
who act this way towards me by making a good guess about what life forces
have compelled them to resist me, and negotiating with them about it,
arranging at least an understanding of what to expect of each other and what
I must hide from them to avoid their malice.
   All the women I've discussed this with insist that a man acting so
horrible must know what he's doing choreographically, based on the matter
being so obvious to the women. Thus an asshole inspires choreographic
revenge, which he doesn't respond to, again because he doesn't notice it;
convincing the woman that he's contrite. Aware only that she's absurdly
upset, he'll often offer a meaningless apology to cheer her up, further
convincing her of his intelligence.
   Men often use the term asshole to refer to a man who artificially
creates bad feelings. Though only theoretically aware of their own
influence, men are often clearly aware of other men creating feeling
effects, but only in the crude sense of tone of voice, misuse of personal
items and such. The positive form of feeling creation looks to a man like a
sinister manipulation of somebody, as in completing a sale of something
useless, a kind of black magic. No man has expressed to me even vague
comprehension of the creation of artificial good feelings in others
motivated by basking in the choreographic echos, as with fashion
involvement.
   That I observe, the only shared feelings that a man will amplify by
obsessive focus, the way women do, is feelings of sexual pizzaz with someone
or feelings related to media events. The subtler day to day personal contact
opportunities are all forgotten as they happen. Looking at a man's eyes
clearly shows a serious lack of choreographic self-awareness unless he's
looking right at a woman who worries him by being disgusted with him; and
even then the difference, though subtler, is still clear to me.
   So what makes a man an asshole has nothing consciously to do with
choreography or feelings or what anyone expresses towards him, and cheering
him up will often escalate the problem by validating his behavior. Vivid
and emediate expression of the feelings he's creating sometimes can inspire
some self-awareness for a short while, if rapport is good. A clear
explanation of the matter helps; he'll probably say the frame of
reference is pretty ridiculous, but at least that will create an openning
to nonviolently end all intimacy with him.
   I have had no real long term success with assholes, and little short
term success; but I can create a survivable holding pattern through a
semi-violent tease such as reaching out to them physically in a rude way or
getting rude with their stuff playfully, so that they avoid me for being an
asshole; but I express no objection for them pushing me to such extremes,
and I actually think of them as simply immature, not evil, certainly not to
be envied. And having never been consciously taught anything in my life, I
have no optimism about teaching them.
   Such a fellow making a game of referring to a woman as a bitch, with no
specific meaning behind saying that, seriously depresses me, because I see
no constructive humanity at all behind it and so I hold out little hope for
the spirit of friendship surviving. But since it's an example of
choreographic trashing, I presume it to be a stylistic echo from someone in
the past who had actual dramatic intelligence and a real grudge, probably
against the asshole himself. I still fall into similiar behavior echoing,
enough that I need to stay away from even minimal association with
choreographic trashing, such as at political rallies or meetings generally;
unless I can establish a temporary gang of people with no interest that way,
who can upstage the twisted drama. With a character identity that was easy
for me to do, so I have the same expectation of the object woman.
   Though I have seen many clearly character identified women maintain an
autonomous life without emotionally poisoning their environment, or even
getting too self-destructively neurotic with social drugfoods and the
media, when I did a character identity, being physically independent served
no useful purpose and courted mental illness through spontaneous
hallucination. The hidden issue, I think, is the establishment of genuine
constructive kindness between women in a gang. I have read of women in
other cultures who have real peace and freedom within a gang of women, and
are horrified by the heartless feminine tradition in America.
   So I advocate a redefinition; that a bitch means a lonely woman, quick
to apathy or petty militance due to psychic feebleness, who won't link with
anyone else; not a label of criminality, but a sign of mental illness, of
gross despair of finding kind association, a sort of self-feeding social
poverty. This would not be a new use of the term, only a change of
perspective about the condition. A woman who is actually a vicious jerk or
an apathetic blob is trashing her own equilibrium consciously, not like an
white trash man who can't see himself emotionally. Such a woman cannot be
called self-serving, especially by anyone who has been her. By this approach
a bitch is a desperate woman, a tragedy, a problem to address, not sweep
under the rug with a demand that the speaker not say that.



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