Last weekend I was exposed to some disgusting behaviour.
I was at a College ball in country New South Wales. As I’d imagine all country balls to be, everybody was drinking a little too much, talking a little too little and dancing a whole lot. It was fun.
But then something happened; something that I didn’t think existed in 2013. Something that would have Emmeline Pankhurst rolling in her grave.
On the bus home from the event, the male residents of the college started singing war cries. But they weren’t war cries about other colleges at the university. Nor were they war cries about sporting prowess.
They were war cries about women, rape, fetuses, and men getting their cocks sucked by women.
Here’s an example:
I wish all the ladies, were naked in me bed, and I’d get them all pregnant, and the babies could give me head. I wish all the ladies, were waves in the ocean. So if I were a swimmer, I’d f*ck em’ with me motion’.
And it continued like that for the whole 10-minute ride home.
I’m certain I was dragging my jaw along the floor by the time I got off. But that wasn’t even the worst thing.
The girls on the bus were singing these lyrics too.
Screaming them in fact. And laughing.
I guess it was just so funny that the men they lived with and share hallways and dinning rooms with, were singing about raping other women – women who could have easily been them.
By this stage I was in shock, and more than a little enraged. My friend, who was sitting next to me, looked at me and shook her head.
So I said, as loudly as I could, “Why is it all about women? Why not sing about men, hey? Where are all the male references? WHAT’S SO GREAT ABOUT MEN?”
In my mind the whole bus heard me and the sisterhood united, kicked the boys off the bus, threw our bras away and told them they could stick their war cries where the sun don’t shine and have some respect.
But of course, it went nothing like this.
The war cries continued and my comments were mainly drowned out by the chants about the awesomeness of rape and violent sex and abortion. And the few that did hear me had the witty remark of ‘f*cking feminist’, with some of the females nodding along in agreement.
Now, if you are not a feminist that’s fine. You don’t have to be. (Although as Caitlin Moran said: ‘What part of ‘liberation for women’ is not for you ladies?)