Can we stop saying TERF?

Yes, JKR blows when it comes to her views on transwomen. Catch up here if you missed the controversy (imagine I said it all British-like with an accent on the second syllable):

Let’s find a better label/insult to delineate her shitty views. I had to look up what TERF means: Trans-Exclusionary Radical Feminist. I hate that term because it implies that you can deny the gender of transwomen and still be considered a feminist. No. If you aren’t intersectional in terms of gender identity (or race, for that matter), you aren’t truly a feminist. Feminism, by definition, is about respecting the equality and rights of all people, regardless of their sex.

From Merriam Webster:



fem·​i·​nism | \ ˈfe-mə-ˌni-zəm \

Definition of feminism

1 : the theory of the political, economic, and social equality of the sexes

2 : organized activity on behalf of women’s rights and interests

You fellow Potter-nerds are a smart, creative lot. Let’s come up with something better than TERF.

Accidental racist.


I was reading some great old books I downloaded from Project Gutenberg, and came across several passages in these books from the early 1900’s that were positively cringe-worthy.  There were n-bombs, bits about dressing in “black face,” and innuendo about various nationalities and colors.  I happened to be reading one of those books while sitting next to a person of color, and found myself very worried that she would glance over and see something like that in the page I was reading.  Would she think I condoned that language and those ideas?  Would she understand that while I don’t agree with it and don’t speak that way, I can enjoy other aspects of the book, and can appreciate that the racism was a product of that time and society and doesn’t belong in ours?  What I want to know is this: is it racist to read books that were written at a time when racism was a non-issue to many; de rigueur behavior and no one thought anything of open prejudice?  I know for me, I had to stop reading Isaac Asimov even though I love classic science fiction because the blatant sexism was just too rankling.  Also why I don’t read more from many of the Beat authors.  Is it hypocritical that I don’t put down a book that includes racist language?  Maybe because the racism isn’t smacking me in the face in every chapter, I sort of give the book a pass and take it for what it is.  Still, it did make me feel a little racist.

I love monkeys.

I not only love monkeys, but I love the word “monkeys.” It has the right amount of syllables, it includes a bilabial, velar, and sibilant consonant, and in the plural form, it is one of the rebellious nouns that ignores the rule of changing from “y” to “ies.”  I admit that I use this term improperly, since I love not only monkeys but most species which fall under the Order “Primate,” which includes: monkeys, apes, prosimians, and humans.

But I am certainly not alone in my love of all things simian.  When at a zoo featuring our phylogenetic cousins, I have noticed that the time and attention spent on these guys is rivaled only by time spent with the “big cats.”  They are so like us in so many ways that it’s positively mesmerizing to watch their interactions.

I think we connect with monkeys and apes on a deep level because whether we know it consciously or not, we share over ninety percent of our genetic code with them; more than 95% with our closest relative–the chimpanzee.  Sorry creationists, but DNA don’t lie.

Back in the 1970’s, there was a documentary by Barbet Schroeder that centered on Koko (full name: Hanabiko), a gorilla that was part of a psychological experiment to teach animals a form of American Sign Language to determine if they have intelligence and emotional responses on par with a human’s.  One of the key members of the project, Francine “Penny” Patterson, has devoted her entire life to training Koko and assessing her communicative intent.  Watching the documentary, I was disappointed that Penny was so intent on “humanizing” Koko–asserting physical dominance while acting as Koko’s mother, imbuing her actions with human moralistic value judgements of “good” and “bad,”  and even offering her make-up; telling her it’s to make her “pretty.”  Give us a break, Penny.

While I agree that we don’t afford primates enough protection and we don’t give them credit for their high levels of intelligence, they are not people.  The differences between us are critical and it’s inappropriate to treat monkeys and apes like our children or pets.  That’s how people’s faces get ripped off.  For goodness sake, we share over 90% of our genome with mice, yet we don’t treat them with commensurate respect.  I believe strongly that animals should be allowed to form social bonds with their own species.  If this experiment had given us undeniable, solid results, then I feel we might have been justified in they way we’ve experimented with these animals.  Unfortunately, the studies have fallen prey to the criticism that too much of the evidence is  subjective and there aren’t enough controlled empirical studies.

Koko is now forty years old and she has failed to mate thus far.  This to me, is a great tragedy as her species is dwindling in the wild due to interference from humans.  We clearly don’t know how to encourage mating in captivity, which I believe, should be our number-one focus before teaching them to “talk.”

If this has sparked your interest, check out Readings In Animal Cognition, edited by Marc Bekoff and Dale Jamieson.  In particular, give Chapter 18,  Animal Language: Methodological and Interpretive Issues a read.

A Book Review: The God Delusion


I recently finished reading Richard Dawkins’ atheist screed which, with many cogent arguments, sound logic, and presentation of plain old facts that can’t be denied by the reasoning mind, has single-handedly turned my wishy-washy, I’m-not-100%-sure shadows of agnostic doubt into full-fledged, unapologetic atheism.  I’ve never felt better.  The weights of fear and superstition have been permanently lifted and leave me free to accept that this world and my place in it are only what I alone make of them.  I am free to determine and define my life’s purpose and value.

Richard is likely  “preaching to the converted” with this book and the devoutly religious will reject his views out of hand.  That’s fine, it’s not for them.  If you find yourself tired of sitting on that fence and getting splinters in your ass, give it a read.