It’s fine for men to watch shojo anime and read shojo manga like Sailor Moon and Cardcaptor Sakura.
It’s fine for men to make pornographic doujinshi of these, buy figurines, and jack off to the characters.
It’s fine for men to completely invade a Pretty Cure forum created for young girls and scare said girls away. It’s fine for these men to twist the entire fandom around themselves, its fine for them to show up to Pretty Cure events in throngs and its fine for them to frantically grab all the free handouts before any of the girls can.
It’s also fine for men to take these magical girl anime made for girls that celebrate being a girl and make them all about their pornography and which girl they most want to put their dick in. It’s fine, because theres even a cute name for them, ‘Ooki Tomodachi’ (Big Friend).
It’s fine for them to do the same with My Little Pony, of course. It’s fine that they can make the voice actors of the show uncomfortable with personal questions, its fine that they can yell out rape jokes to them at conventions, its fine that they have basically made it impossible for any of the 8 year old girls the show was made for to ever google it in public. It’s fine for them to gather in the toy stores around the pony toys and intimidate young girls. It’s fine that the whole show, created to celebrate femininity and how ‘theres no wrong way to be a girl’ is now associated with their fetishes. And its so fine that these male fans get given a cute name (‘brony’), get documentaries made about them, have newspaper article after blog post after feature talking about how they are ‘challenging gender norms’ and ‘transforming pop culture’.
But if a girl ‘trespasses’ into a male space, what happens? (Even when it isnt ‘trespassing’, in the case of Free!, in which a space was actually made for us ) We can expect such timeless classics as: degradation, ‘you’re not even a REAL fan!’ ‘I bet you dont even know ______’, all kinds of threats, and, of course, the posts you see on this blog.
This! This nails what makes me so uncomfortable about brony stuff. I don’t care if guys like “girl” things. What bothers me is how they move into a female space and take it over and make it all about their dicks, then act offended when women get uncomfortable with it. They cannot imagine a space that they can’t co-opt and make their own.
BUT they also can’t imagine women having their own space OR invading a “male” space like comic books or science fiction. Jesus fucking christ, dudes, could we women get a little fucking space?
When young women are sexually assaulted, we question their pasts and critique their clothing choices, yet rarely ask their attackers to simply be accountable for having no self-control, and no respect for the humanity of the girls they’ve violated.
When middle school girls post half–naked photos of themselves on Instagram, we vilify and ostracize them as cheap and easy, while ignoring the dozens of young men who mindlessly vote their approval each time, who feed the insecurity, and who perpetuate each degrading act with the click of a mouse.
When high school girls get jobs at chain restaurants, which require them to expose their body parts to strangers over trays of nachos, we bemoan their lack of humility and class, yet never question the thousands of men who fill these eateries every day; many with daughters the same age as the ones they ogle.
When women embarrassingly writhe on poles for a few sweaty dollar bills, in dimly lit bars ironically called “Gentlemen’s Clubs”, we heap insults and judgement on them, yet let the many married men who pay both the dancers and the mortgage each month, come and go without blemish or critique.
Sooner or later, we need to stop letting boys be boys, and we need to challenge them to be men.
Sooner or later, we need to pull them out of their perpetual adolescence and into adulthood, and ask them to evenly carry the weight of sexual standards.
Sooner or later, we need to show our young men that the they can actually raise the moral temperature in sexual situations, not reflect them.
”— John Pavlovitz, The Blurred Lines of Real Manhood (Robin Thicke, I’m Looking In Your Direction) [x] (via ceedling)