Japan, the country with some of the most fucked up pornography and the penis festival
Where the vagina is basically illegal to talk about
So she did a bunch of art featuring 3D sculptures of her vagina, including this kayak, and was put in jail for it
She was indicted again in December on obscenity charges for selling vagina art to crowdfund for the kayak and could spend two years in prison
In Japan, women’s vaginas are treated as though they are men’s property. The trains here usually display pornographic advertisements. As a woman, I find that blatant objectification to be humiliating. I’m disgusted by it. My body belongs to me. So, with this project I wanted to release the vagina from the standard Japanese paradigm. Japan is lenient towards expressions of male sexuality and arousal, but not so for women. When a woman uses her body in artistic expression, her work gets ignored, and people treat her as if she’s some sex-crazed idiot. It all comes back to misogyny. And the vagina is at the heart of it. The vagina is ridiculed. It’s lusted after. Men don’t see women as equals—to them, women are just vaginas. Then they call my vagina-themed work “obscene,” and judge me according to laws written by and for men. [x]
She plans to turn her trial in to a manga comic. She seems pretty sure she’s not going to do any jail time but if you’d like to help her pay for her inevitable fine and court fees, you can check out her online store. There are little glow in the dark vagina characters.
Wow I’ve seen this reblogged a ton of times without seeing the whole going to jail part.
Here’s a recent article about her from July of 2017. It looks like she did some brief time in jail, and is currently still working on this artistic effort, as well as trying to raise awareness about a new terrorism law and the jail/prison system in Japan.
Megumi Igarashi is a goddamn hero for women in Japan. The hypocrisy when it comes to female sexuality there is incredibly frustrating. You can buy penis-shaped candy at a penis festival, but god forbid you even say the word “vagina”. -V
Reminder that tumblr is not ‘anti recovery’ so much as full of really fucking bitter nd people for whom recovery has been either extremely difficult or flat out impossible.
The whole ‘suffered for a few years, gained access to therapy and meds, and then got better within months’ recovery story is not everyone’s story. It’s great, and I’m sure we’re all happy for the people whose recovery was that straightforward, but it’s not everyone’s story.
Some of us have fought tooth and nail pretty much our entire lives.
Some of us have had access to therapy and meds since pretty much the beginning, it just didn’t help.
Some of us have lived a life full of brief semi-recoveries followed by hard relapses.
Some of us have tried all of these recovery ideas multiple times and failed to improve (because surprise, they don’t work for everyone!).
Some of us have had to listen to the ‘eat a better diet’ ‘fix your sleep schedule’ and ‘exercise/do yoga’ shit from condescending nts (including therapists) who just can’t understand why their amazing advice isn’t working for us over and over and over again for years on end.
Because it works for most people? Why isn’t it working for you? You must not be trying hard enough…
You just have to push yourself more! Do you even want to get better?
i have a fake son.
his name is Tim and he is working on his M.S. in astrophysics at Berkeley.
he is devestatingly handsome and enjoys rock climbing and volunteers as a counselor at the local YMCA there in Berkeley, California.
i am so proud of my fake son. i have raised him up in my own head to be such an outstanding member of society.
“Tim” is only brought up when asked about by one particular woman at work that i only see on occasion. i don’t make a habit or game of lying to people, but with her, it kinda came about as follows:
Faye is one of those people who has been there/done that and will hang herself on the cross while she tells you how much worse the experience was for her. i’ve seen this woman Kanye West an 8-month pregnant girl at said girl’s own baby shower to glorify the gift she gave her as well as go into how horrible her labor was with her own children. Faye also is a braggart. her car/purse/house/ring/shoes/etc. all cost more than whatever yours did and her children are all angels.
i was forced to work with Faye for 2 days about 5 years ago. she called me Emily a few times before i finally told her my name is Amy, not Emily. she gave me a sideways glance and said, “I like Emily better”, and since then, she has always called me Emily. i let this go because to get angry with her and tell her off is to see her become dramatic and begin crying and insist she did not mean anything by it while not issuing anything close to an apology. Faye is always right, too, you know.
anyway, when she shut up long enough about herself and her fabulous offspring on the second day, she asked, “Do you have any children, Emily?”
i replied that i do not. she then launched into her daughter taking fertility drugs so that she could give her mother grandchildren someday.
that was the only question she asked me until i saw her about a year later.
“Oh, HI, Emily! How are you?!”
“Hi, Faye…how are you?”
“Wonderful, wonderful. Stephen just graduated from UT. He’s going to be the best doctor ever! How is your son, uh, Tim?”
it took me a second. Tim? son? what the hell is she talking about?!
it dawned on me what a complete narcissist she truly is. she hadn’t heard me the day she asked if i had children, because she didn’t care. she didn’t care enough to call me by my real name, so it wasn’t much of a surprise.
i couldn’t stop myself. i briefly thought about correcting her, but i decided to just go with it.
“Tim is doing so well. He was just accepted to Berkeley after his amazing thesis on planetary nebuli. We are so proud of him.”
her eyes grew big. “Oh, how nice! But, Berkeley? That’s so far from home. UT is an excellent school; surely he could’ve been accepted there?…”
i gave a small chuckle. “Oh, well, they wanted him for sure, Faye. I mean, all the letters he received, practically BEGGING him to study there. But, well, they just don’t have a sufficient astronomy department. UT is a fine school, but not for the subject that Tim is going into. Astrophysics is not something you can study just anywhere, you know.”
her eyes narrowed. “Medicine is what these young people should be going into. Astrophysics? What is that, anyway? How will it contribute to the world?”
“Gosh, I don’t really know how to explain astrophysics, Faye. It’s so mind blowing for simple minds like mine and yours. But searching for things in space that could potentially help our planet is a pretty big deal, I think.”
Faye promptly excused herself. i knew i had gotten her.
i’ve bumped into her on and off throughout the past 5 years and she always told me how her angels were saving the world, especially Stephen, and then she’d ask about Tim. and i made sure my Tim was one step above her Stephen. her face would turn crimson and she would have to abruptly leave.
i saw her as i was leaving work yesterday and she stopped me to wish me a happy Easter.
“Stephen is coming home this holiday. He’s bringing his fiance. She’s a doctor too, you know. How is Tim? Don’t tell me he’s still not graduated?…”
“Oh, Faye, don’t be silly! Astrophysics takes YEARS to graduate from. It’s not as simple as medicine. But, yes, he is close to graduating.”
“Is he coming home for Easter? I can’t imagine spending holidays without my children; how dreadful! Oh, but he’s all the way in California…it costs so much to fly here, I assume.”
I grinned. “Yes, it does. But he’s such a sweetheart, he’s flying me out there this year! Taking a break from his studies and humanitarian efforts to have his dear ol’ Mom around for Easter. I’m so lucky!”
“…yes, well, have a nice time, Emily. Happy Easter!”
“You too, Kay! Oh, I mean Faye!”
you know, like i said before, i don’t like to lie. it does seem very silly to have let this go on for so long. Tim has been a fabrication in the making for over 5 years now, he almost feels real to me.
when i see Faye, i have images of my fake son, looking so handsome in his lab coat as he’s peering into a microscope looking at dust particles from a comet. i see him jogging with his dog on the beach. i see him hiking and biking and climbing. i see him helping an elderly woman with her groceries.
it’s a true testament that if you lie, or let a lie go on for a while, it becomes a solid thing that you have to keep up with.
oddly enough, i don’t lose sleep on this lie. i don’t see her often enough to fib about this on a daily or consistent level. Faye never cared anything about me or my life until she had something to try to one-up me on. SHE is the one losing sleep on account of her Stephen not succeeding quite like my Tim. it’s amazing how this lie has eaten her alive and made me feel proud of something that doesn’t even exist…
eh well.
i’ll be boarding the fake plane to Berkeley this afternoon, to celebrate Easter with my fake son.
Mama’s soooo proud of you, Timmy!
listen my man it doesn’t matter how many times you shriek you need a healer I am a delicate little music boy and you need to stay close to get your healing not charging into danger so you better jingle jangle back into the love zone or I’ll push your ass off a cliff
My first thought was “Bard in D&D”, it took me an embarrassingly long time to realize the OP probably meant Lucio in Overwatch.
i like when ppl reblog posts “so&so just did this by taking adderall” and its usually an amazing or wild feat and i just gotta say, as someone with adhd. this is why my insurance doesnt cover adderall. this is why adderall is classified as a narcotic in my state. im glad yall are havin fun abusing meds i need to live. hope it was worth it.
this post is okay and encouraged to reblog bc yall keep turning a blind eye to this nonsense
“It’s heroic to not mask up and show bravery, I’m not afraid of jail”
Is a fucking ridiculous statement
Because when you get arrested at an action or protest it’s your comrades who are going to have to fundraise to pay your bail and legal fees.
You do a disservice to the movement with this sort of attitude and actively pick personal glory and pride over the success of the cause.
Don’t be an idiot. Mask up.
Don’t put your friends and family through that shit for cool points. Not being able to contact you, not being able to bond you out, having to basically restart your life from scratch when you lose your job and can’t pay rent. Jail isn’t a badge of honor, it’s a real motherfucker, and it IS avoidable.
The Nazis want you in jail; they’re a LOT more powerful there.
Honestly in all of these stories these poetic white men who somehow end up immortal get so bored and miserable because they just sit in their mansion all day doing whatever it is they need to do in order to sustain their immortality and then they just throw lavish parties and organize orgies or whatever and then they’re like “why am I sad I eat three course meals and have at least one orgy daily what MORE could I POSSIBLY need??”
Like???? Damn go for a walk. Do you even KNOW your neighbors? Get a dog and take it to the park. Set up an elaborate fish tank. Go skiing like you’ve been alive for 200 years and you’ve spent 180 of it in your house looking at paintings and drinking wine with other rich assholes no wonder ur life sucks my man.
