by: Rebekka Van Der Does

“… unfortunately the cultural dynamic we have in our society is still largely based on the idea that a woman’s body and life are not her own, even more so when she lives a large part of her life in the public eye. We have conversations about what a woman “should” or “should not” wear/look (usually to be more pleasing to other people), how she “should” act (usually to make others more comfortable)… expectations that we, as a society, usually do not place on men in the same manner. 

We tend to be even worse about it regarding people who spend so much time, by their own choice or not, covering the covers of our magazines and tabloids. It gives the false sense of “knowing” that person, being an intimate insider, and having the “right” to comment, judge or give feedback on any little personal detail… when, oftentimes, we’d be silent in regards to our neighbor who did the same, even if we know them better. But, part of that is also because when we give that feedback to a celebrity, there’s the impression of impunity and/or anonymity. 

It’s still my hope that, perhaps, this might lead to a larger discussion about the cultural dynamic and increased awareness.”

I never knew there could be such a thing as a funny nightmare until I read Jeremy C Shipp’s “Attic Clowns”: An anthology of short stories. I almost want to categorize it as “Delightful Horror.”

Every time I met a crazy-talented person, I always wished – secretly – that I could take a tour inside their brain. Shipp almost made me believe that it is possible: All you have to do is look at their transparent forehead and see what the little clown inside is doing.

Shipp has an astounding ability of taking the surreal, bending it, and twisting it to end up like the sort of our day-to-day reality. I started wondering whether he was an angel in a past life and whether he’s ever been possessed by a ghost, because how else could anyone describe the celestial so vividly?

By the same token, he also reflects on the dilemmas of human life – and sometimes the life of supernatural beings – in a never-seen-before setting, and it always included an attic clown.

Crescendo… Decrescendo… Crescendo!

Shipp’s language and choice of words are beyond perfect. The language flows so smoothly and comes from an enchanted world, almost like Claude Debussy’s “Prélude à l’après-midi d’un faune.”  He also happens to be a master of coherence. Only a gifted writer like him could repeat himself so refreshingly.

It is a must-read for all the coulrophilics and claustrophilics out there.

by: T.S. Tenzer

My sex is my own
you can not take it from me
it is not a commodity for you to peddle or hold
nor is it a way you can control my identity

misogynist

You’ve tried to steal it with your eyes
ogling, raping me visually, I’m just tits and an ass
desperate to control the power between my thighs
you’re desperately afraid that my intimidation will not last

pornographist

You try to own it with your touch
grasping and grabbing, trying to overcome me
I will not bear it, every unwelcome intrusion hurts too much
I will not allow you to rip away my dignity

rapist

You tried to convince me it’s always been your treasure
to be controlled, reviled, worshiped by only you
only at your whim and for your pleasure
a masterpiece and abomination just for your view

fanatacist

But my sex is my own
it is not responsible for your lack of morality
and it does not define me but empowers my humanity
so I will fight until the sex of every woman is her own.

… feminist.

by: James WF Roberts

Woman
what do you see in him?
He tells you that he loves you
by the bruises on your neck.
He tells you he is sorry every morning,
how do you live with him?
How can no-one see the distance in your eyes? The distance in your voice, the fear in your heart, three months pregnant he’s out with the boys again, what state will he come home in? Is it too late to run? Is it too late to drift away? Woman…?

by: Paul Falardeau

The recent article published in The Cascade, “No One’s Forcing You into the Strip Club,” by Taylor Johnson raises several ill-conceived and poorly researched opinions about the nature of what she implies is simply and solely a profession. However, what Johnson fails to consider is the deep-rooted problems of gender-oppression and societally-imposed norms that she herself ends up, whether she realizes it or not, reinforcing.

It is not that Johnson never makes mention of the idea that stripping – and other “sex-work” – is a form of sexism and oppression, but that she glosses over it in less than a sentence. She asks instead whether, “the girls who work there really feel oppressed and victimized?” Good question and one that I certainly don’t want to put in anyone’s mouth as I have never stripped or been a part of any of these “businesses” and am not a woman. However, even a cursory look at the work done on the topic produces statistics that seem to deny this as an “empowering” life choice. Shared Hope International’s “The National Report on Domestic Minor Sex Trafficking: America’s Prostituted Children.” (May 2009) reports that, “in the United States, the average age of entry into prostitution is 12 to 14 years old.” Not yet old enough to drive a car, buy smokes, a drink or in many places, get married. Of course, this is not solely a North American issue. Victor Malarek, in The Johns: Sex for Sale and the Men Who Buy It (2009), provides a quote from Mei, a 20-year-old veteran of the Thai sex market, “many of us began as children … our parents are poor and they sell us. We obey our parents. We have no choice.” No choice, again, not exactly a fount of empowerment.

Of course, even if we ignore these statistics and firsthand accounts (and there many more) and believe, like Johnson, that strippers and prostitutes are there on some personal journey of empowerment — which may be true for some part of this population, we are insensitively ignoring the very serious problem of those that did not choose to be there and missing the more deeply-rooted issue behind all of this. Even the most conservative statistics offer a rate of 1 in 3 prostitutes being sexually or physically assaulted and/or robbed. It is a dangerous place to “work,” because it is one in which the person who is selling their body for money is doing just that, selling their body and, in the process, becoming dehumanized. Not only does this put the stripper or prostitute in danger of physical violence, but also they are at high risk to contract STDs and suffer psychological harm as a result of this mental degradation.

What Johnson seems to be championing is not challenging the norm. Her article is critical of young people with that oh-so-rare gift of concern for their world. She writes that ‘the club itself has been around for almost two decades and has never had any trouble with the law or the community until now.” Right, is it surprising that no one has challenged the club, when this sort of establishment – and this kind of treatment of women — has been around for millennia? This group of students have done the brave thing in questioning the norm and in remembering that basing an argument for the validity of an idea on the traditional bias is a ripe logical fallacy.

Furthermore, Johnson supports the debasement of women as beauty-obsessed creatures, whose validation is solely dependent on men’s desires with sentences such as, “these girls probably take great pride in their bodies and probably spend hours at the gym to maintain their appearance.” Sure, they might, but why do you think that is?

Of course, a big myth about feminism is that it doesn’t concern men because it doesn’t affect them and in Johnson’s opinion, men simply “have the ability to simply not enter a facility.” Again, this is true to a point, and many people will choose to never enter one of these facilities or pay for sex in another form. Yet, many people do, and why is that? Just as our society has forced on women the subservient role, it also has produced a cult of hyper-masculinity, where men should always be thinking about sex.

Closing down one such club as this will not end prostitution, but this action taken by these students is worth noting, because they are addressing the foundational problem, which is the lasting inequality between men and women. Closing the club is at best a bandage on a deep wound, but I would expect a university newspaper to engage this topic with higher level of thinking than what Johnson has put on the page. My response is at best a drop in the bucket of this much larger issue that we as a society must face. I have only started here to look at issues of violence, intent, inequality and challenging the norm. There are still more questions to be asked, regarding persons who do not find themselves fitting into the current gender binary (also a social norm we need to challenge) and their relationship with sexual oppression, the experience of sexual-trafficked persons in other countries and many other issues that stem from this core of basic inequality. We can hardly touch on everything in a single article, hell, we couldn’t do it in a PhD paper, but we can keep talking about, and have an open mind to change; we can deconstruct what we believe is necessary and normal. It doesn’t take too much to see that “There is nothing forcing a person” is one of the most ignorant statements we could possibly make.

by: Evan J. Peterson

Pearled like a swine in cream and black
it’s caught on your lashes, not thighs.
The running mascara turns grey
and slips. All you have are your eyes:

the bridge of your nose, gash-plucked brows,
the lashes like porcupine quills.
Trickle by trap, are you his sow
with your gag-hidden mouth that chills?

Your hair is wrapped in quiet pride.
His hot little splash soaks, a tag.
You’re stone and appear unsurprised
your niqaab has become his rag.

Each milky filament pulls you
down. Blink, drink, or just let it dry.
Dribble by drop, but you refuse
to drown. All you have are your eyes.

Note: This poem was written in response to a photograph by deviantnorm.

“The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.”


It was a foggy day, although I had no idea what it looked like outside the window. I was still half asleep after I had to get out of my warm bed at 3:00 AM; when nature calls, you’d better respond quickly, or you would expose yourself to years of humiliation.

I walked slowly to the bathroom, eyes half-shut and hand on my head, mindlessly scratching my scalp. I must have been still sleeping, because I was dreaming as I made my way in clumsy steps to the bathroom. But the shrieking voice of the young woman crying for help in the dream was too firm and forceful to be coming from my own foggy head.

I finally got to the bathroom, and once there, I froze, and lost my ability to speak. Suddenly, the thick layer of fog had cleared up.

Did I forget that my sister and my friend came to my apartment last night to stay with me for a few days? I’m amazed at the way my memory works so hard to embarrass me sometimes. But what I’d just stumbled upon had robbed me the ability to utter any sound or make any gesture.

My sister was lying down on the floor, her face covered in blood. My “friend” was on top of her, with his hands locked around her neck.

What should I do? All the options ran through my head: Kick my friend in the face, call the police, or… Walk away.

I chose the last one.

I turned my back to the horrific scene and moved away a few steps, then stood still. I knew I had to do something. I was capable of doing something, I knew I was. But an obscure force has tied my hands together and I felt helpless. And in a millisecond, a thousand words and images raced through my mind, most of which were previously seen and heard, and could be used as excellent excuses – even though they sounded more like disabilities to me.

I turned around again, and they were still there, the man on top of my sister, killing her slowly, while she looked at me with big brown eyes almost lifeless.

I walked slowly towards them, and said very quietly, “Please leave her alone, you’re hurting her.”

Then I woke up.

Yes, it was a dream, and I was all alone, and nobody was at the bathroom door. But none of that was enough to wipe away my shame – I actually allowed myself to think for less than a second that it was her fault.

Yes, it is true. Jeremy C Shipp, the Bram Stoker Award-nominated American novelist and short-story writer, the incredibly-talented author of great works such as Vacation, Cursed and Fungus of the Heart, was so sweet and so kind that he actually agreed to have an interview with yours truly! Did I mention that his work has been published in over 60 magazines so far?

He’s original. He’s daring. He’s Smart. And he’s funny, too. I hope you enjoy the read!

Was there a certain point in your life when you decided to become an author?

When I was a baby, I enjoyed carrying around pens, so perhaps I wanted to be an author even back then. Although, to be honest, I don’t remember much about my aspirations and dreams at that point in my life. Mostly I just remember reaching for shiny things. I do know that when I was in fourth grade, I wrote my first very long short story. That was the first time I remember thinking how fun it would be to become a writer.

When and where do you prefer to write?

I prefer to write in the future, because it’s much easier than writing in the present. Seriously though, I prefer writing at night in my office, surrounded by dancing shadows and inebriated goblins and weeping clowns.

Of all the books/stories you have written so far, which one is your favorite? And why?

I don’t know if I can choose one favorite, but I might be able to choose two. I really like my books Cursed and Attic Clowns. This has more to do with certain characters than anything else. I love Cicely from Cursed and Globcow from Attic Clowns. Cicely is wacky and fun and strong, and Globcow is weird and evil and good-hearted. They’re the sort of people (or demons) I’d like to hang out with.

Do you consider yourself to be a controversial writer? And if that’s the case, what makes you so?

I’m a controversial writer in the sense that within my stories, I sometimes explore controversial ideas and topics. Because of this, I receive hate mail from time to time. But so far my books haven’t started any revolutions or wars.

Why do you write? And what inspires you to write?

I write because if I didn’t my organs would implode and I’d become a black hole that would suck up my entire house, including my spork collection. And since I don’t want to lose that spork collection, I keep writing. But in all seriousness, writing is a big part of how I cope with and connect with reality. I’m inspired by the terrible and wonderful things that happen to me and to people in the world.

As an author, how do you think a controversial lifestyle affects a writer’s readership?

I’m sure living a controversial lifestyle would attract certain people. A controversial lifestyle can be fascinating and sexy and provocative. But honestly, I know little of such things, because I’m a dork. The most exciting part of my day is hanging out in the library next to a stone gargoyle.

What about marketability? Do you think about it as you are writing?

I don’t think about marketability as I’m writing, but I do work hard to market my books after they’re published. I give away free cookies and everything.

Does gender have a definition?

I see gender as socially constructed roles, behaviors, and attributes that are deemed appropriate for certain people. Some people think of gender in terms of male and female, but there are all sorts of genders in the world. For example, the Bugis people in South Sulawesi have five genders in their society.

From your experience, does an author’s gender influence the way they are perceived by readers?

A writer’s gender can definitely create certain expectations in some readers. A reader might think a man writes about certain things and a woman writes about certain other things. But I like authors who write outside of the box, and that includes the gender box. Writing can be a way to defy gender roles, and this can cause confusion or anger or enlightenment.

Where do you put society in the US on the scale of prudishness?

It’s such a mixed bag here. To be honest, I couldn’t even rank myself on the scale of prudishness. In some ways, I’m very liberal and free-spirited, and in other ways I’m quite ascetic and square.

What do you think of the effect of our modern lifestyle on the traditional gender roles?

The way I see it, traditional gender roles have been challenged and, in some ways, cast off by many people around the world. There are many ways to be. Personally, I don’t see myself as a purely masculine being. I embrace masculine and feminine qualities within myself, and most people don’t seem to look down on me for that.

How does being an author affect your ability to observe the ills of society?

I don’t have any special observational skills, but I do tend to people watch wherever I go. I try to educate myself about what’s happening in the world, both good and bad. All of this fuels my writing.

If there is one piece of advice that you would share with aspiring authors, what would it be?

Write every day, even if you only write a sentence. It’s too easy to think that you’ll write your great novel later; that you’ll have time later; that you need to do this or that before you begin. Just write and don’t let anyone’s negativity brainwash you into stopping. Brainwashing, bad. Brainstorming, good.