Thursday, 26 September 2013

Beat me, my love! (video)

United we all stand, women and men, or surely divided we fall (femen.org)
WARNING: Violence against women, sexism, nudity, exploitative mainstream media images!
 
54% of abusers are boyfriends (Garry Knight/Slutwalk)
"Little girls of about six or seven were asked, 'What do you like to do?' Then some time later the same question was asked but in a different form: 'What do little girls like to do?'"

I've got 54321. I've got a red pair of high heels on. Tumble me over. It doesn't take much. Tumble me over. Tumble me; push! In my red high heels I've no control. The rituals of repression are so old. You can do what you like; there'll be no reprisal. I'm yours, yes, I'm yours. It's my means of survival.
 
Alert, everyone, alert! (femen.org)
I've got 54321. Come on, my love, I know you're strong. Push me hard. Make me stagger. The pain in my back just doesn't matter. You force-hold me above the ground. I can't get away. My feet are bound. So I'm bound to say that I'm bound to stay. Well, today I look so good just like I know I should. My breasts to tempt inside my bra, my face is painted like a movie star. I've studied my flaws in your reflection and put them to rights with savage correction. I've turned my statuesque perfection and shone it over in your direction.
 
She was asking for it? (Slutwalk)
So come on, darling, make me yours. Trip me over. Show me the floor. Tease me, tease me, make me stay. In my red high heels, I can't get away. I'm trussed and bound like an oven-ready bird. But I bleed without dying, and I won't say a word. Slice my flesh, and I'll ride the scar. Put me into gear like your lady car. Drive me fast. Crash me, crazy! I'll rise from the wreckage as fresh as a daisy. These wounds leave furrows as they heal. I've traveled them; they're red and real. I know them well. They're part of me, my birth, my sex, my history.
 
Death to patriarchy, sexism, and inequality (femen.org/en/about)
  
Topless protest for women's rights (examiner)
They grew with me, my closest friend. My pain's my own. My pain's my end. Clip my wings so you know where I am. I can't get lost while you're my man. Tame me so I know your call. I've stabbed my heels so I am tall. I've bound my twisted falling fall, beautiful mute against the wall. Beautifully mutilated as I fall. Use me; don't lose me.
 
American culture in Egypt
I've got 54321. I've got a red pair of high heels on. Strap my ankles, break my heels, make me kneel, make me feel. Turn, turn, turn like a clockwork doll. Put in your key, and give me a whirl. Tease me, tease me, the reason to play. In my red high heels, I can't get away. I'll be your bonsai, your beautiful bonsai, your black-eyed bonsai, erotically rotting. Will my tiny feet fit your desire? Warped and tied, I walk on fire.
 
Burn me out; twist my wrists. I promise not to shout. Beat me with your fists. Squeeze me, squeeze me, make me feel. In my red high heels, I'm an easy kill. Tease me, tease me, make me see. You're the only one I need to be me. Thank you, will you take me? Thank you, will you make me? Thank you, will you break me? Use me; don't lose me. Taste me; don't waste me. Use, lose, taste, waste.

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