And I don’t even know my last name…(warning, there be cursing ahead) Part one

As I was working on my first post regarding bad behavior on the part of parents in general, (and trust me, that is still coming around), Kristy, a great mom, a geeky friend, an awesome feminist, and all around premo person posted this.

It pretty much was about “choice feminism,” basically the crazy idea that feminists can and should make choices depending on their situation, and that it is up to THEM, not to some grand high poobah of feminism, if there even is such a thing (pretty sure there isn’t, but I could be wrong). It is also another example of someone deep-dicking the feminist pudding again.

This time, it’s about last names. This for me is a very tender subject, for reasons that I will get into in part 2.

Apparently, for those who make the very reasonable point of “my current last name is due to a man” was slapped down with if “If your last name is really your dad’s, then no one, including your dad, has a last name that’s actually theirs.” And? Your point was? Hell, back in the old days, quite a few people had gotten their surnames for the place they lived in, or the profession that their fathers had, so technically, there are no surnames that belong to anyone, unless you chose to make up your own. In fact, if you do feel strongly about last-name patriarchy, why not rename yourself? It kinda seems to take the cheap and lazy way out to do otherwise. Now this is not to say that keeping your name that binds you to your father instead of trying to find or make up one is not a personal choice, and I am not saying that you are a bad person for it, I am just saying that your choice is anti-feminist…

See what happens when you use arseholish comments to try and justify your personal viewpoint? You sound like a bloody plonker, just like I did when I insisted that you make up a name of your own (and for those who have made up their own name to remove the patriarchal connotations, that is cool. As long as you don’t judge me for my laziness, we are cool. Refreshing tropical drink, anyone?).

Frankly, feminism should not be a contest of who is the best feminist. No one gets a cookie for being one (I think. Any one care to prove me wrong by sending me some homemade cookies through the interwebs?). How about not tearing other feminists/women/people in general down, and let them choose what ever name they care about choosing (although if my vote counts for anything, how about Zanzibar Buck-Buck McFate?).

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