Well, if last month wasn’t fucked up enough, this month sure has been, to make up for the lack. Since publishing my three-month summary (here), an already hella fucked up situation with a former friend has escalated to hella fucked up to the power of pi squared (approximation). Oh yeah. And I officially lost my housing and have become, for all intents and purposes, transient (this is for the second time in my life — I’m just not counting all the times I was renting and moving at least once every month). As such, I’ve missed a couple of weeks of the Action Against Misogyny demonstrations. And yet somehow, as if the Universe detected some need to keep motivating me to pick myself up and dig in my heels, men’s rights activists have appeared just over a month ago now, in the form of a very small group of people postering all over the city. My efforts in the pro-choice demonstrations against sexual harassment from pro-lifers have also bled into finding ways to subvert the efforts of the MRAs. More on that shortly.
First, about my approximation on the escalation from hella fucked up to [hella fucked up]^Π². I found out that someone who has previously meddled in my private affairs and began meddling in the whole pervert-RCMP affair, began stalking my blog. Since she and I have a history, I wrote her a scathing open letter to tell her to get lost. Then a man phoned me (who I also have a history with), outing himself as the doppelgang whose photos were included in the news story that aired when my former friend (the pervert RCMP) was announced on national media, as being a pervert. Well, seeing as how that doppelgang had sexually abused his own son — an obvious motivation for trying to silence me — I felt compelled to finally report it to police, and wrote this post to urge other people to come forward to help serve that child (now 12 or 13 years old) the justice he’s been waiting for. Then I got tired of reading all the venomous accusations rooted in the belief that someone just shouldn’t give information over to RCMP without asking for permission from the person whose information is being requested, because it’s just not that simple. As the huge field of online conversations progressed, I also got tired of watching people deliberately trying to steer the dialogue for the purposes of obstructing justice, so I wrote this post.
My jaw dropped and my fingers hit the keyboard when I saw people denying that there was an investigation taking place, and you can read about why here (as if it wasn’t yet obvious). Then I located where the photographer who took staged photos of a Pickton murder actually bragged about being the guy with the camera (while avoiding reporting this information to assist in an investigation by RCMP), and I flipped my fucking gourd, because I’ve known this person too. After all this writing, I finally checked my email and found a message that I couldn’t respond to, so I wrote this very brief open letter to the sender. It concerned the matter of a blog claiming to be the voice of over 500 dissident RCMP (former and currently serving). Though it was shut down within 24 hours, the first page was preserved in web cache, and a lot of it resonated with me. You can read about that here. Then I finally provided a 2-hour audio- and video-recorded statement about the guy in the hyper fucked up, staged, knife-wielding photos for which the photographer took public claim. And within a couple of days, the meddling woman was finally slammed with a libel lawsuit. Then a man’s home was raided with a warrant citing defamatory libel, and he claimed to be connected to both the dissident RCMP blog and the national news finding out what my former friend does behind closed doors. And meddling woman with the libel lawsuit on her hands? Well, details of a court date with the former landlord of her business also became public. I will conclude this by stating that after following up with RCMP about her attempts to smear me on her twitter (again) and about further contact with the person who emailed me about the dissident RCMP blog, I am both angry and acutely aware of being manipulated by that anonymous email correspondent (who must think I’m either stupid or arrogant or both).
It was in the middle of all of this, that I received the ten day notice I was anticipating with dread for a few weeks. I am now, for all intents and purposes, transient. What a convenient time for me to make all of three blatantly sarcastic posters with the intent of wheat-pasting them next to MRA posters, and to find myself trolled by a series of men’s rights activists turning the comments section of that blog post into an echo chamber! I mean honestly, at some point, I had to just approve comments and stop reading them. I wrote this relatively brief run-down of what my motivations and political leanings are as an anarcha-feminist and moved on with my life, because I had more important shit to deal with (see above two paragraphs). Within a couple of weeks, the media caught wind of what was going on, so after doing an interview with a CBC reporter, I’ve been quoted in two articles while a third does a poor job of representing an equally weighted dialogue, and the fourth (a Jezebel article by my arch nemesis, anti-joke chicken) smears a friend of mine who made a genuine attempt to just give MRAs enough rope to hang themselves with. In public. Read about the whole mess (and how the MRAs are trolling that reporter now) in this post.
Now That That’s All Out Of The Way…
I missed the Friday demonstration during Week 13, which was also the same day as the Musqueam band (indigenous peoples local to the area) enacted a major protest in honour of their 100th day of a continuous 24-hour picket outside four of their ancestors’ graves, desecrated by a condo developer (who was approved permission to build on top of one of the Musqueam’s former villages, even though it is a nationally protected historic site). It makes me sad to say it, but I missed that event too. So I did a little self-care by shopping for a “Thought Police” costume to clown around in. Read about what an amusing success that was, in this post.
The following week, feeling shaken to my core, both by the hella fucked up and continuously escalating situation, and by receiving the ten-day notice, I was able to find comic relief (and toplessness) on the Friday. But on the Saturday, we were dumped on by sexual harassment and homophobia from strangers, and then non-consensual photography from a known anti-abortion extremist named Gordon Watson — a man who has spent the past two decades in and out of court, for cracking a man’s skull and repeatedly assaulting abortion clinic staff, and writing open letters to incite other anti-abortion extremists to form lynch mobs to hunt down pro-choicers, and getting away with all of it. I couldn’t make this up if I tried. Read it here.
During Week 15, I missed our Friday demonstration again, due to being over-taxed between losing sleep and reporting to the RCMP detachment to give a statement on a man who sexually abused his own son. I thank the Universe it was peaceful on our 100th day. I was only able to write a very brief post about it, because there was so little comment on. I completely missed Day 106 & 107, for much of the same reasons.
Finally, it has occurred to me that there is a reason I failed Calculus, and it is reflected in the fact that this past weekend, when I demonstrated on the Friday but not the Saturday, that was Day 113, but I originally put Day 114 in the title of my writing about it. When a friend of mine showed up on the Friday with the express purpose of derailing our efforts, compromising our attention (and thus, our safety), and trying to find ways to pick at our political beliefs, all by engaging us in lengthy conversations about the morality of abortion, I lost it on him a little. He was asked to hold a sign protesting the sexual harassment (which he is against), if he insists on having these conversations, and he refused, so he was asked to leave. For the post about that day, I wrote about how he and other cisgendered white guys before him have repeatedly shown up to our demonstrations and acted from their place of privilege by engaging in these philosophical debates ad nauseum, but it isn’t helping anyone whose safety is actually on the line (such as mine, or anyone who is socially read as female). You can read about that here.
If I could have avoided the length at all for this “summary”, I assure you, I would have.