Hi, it's Darth. When I was a man, before I got a gender change and became a woman, I had to be a little boy. Yup, even in deep space we told "Yo Mama" jokes. Don't ask me why boys tell "Yo Mamma" jokes. Wait--you CAN ask me now, because I've got new insight. I've got a robotic vagina! It keeps me up at night wondering why I used to exchange "Yo Mama" jokes when I was a little guy.
I wonder, further, why the doppelgänger of the "Yo Mama" joke always got birthed, and why it still goes on today when young dudes hang out. When boys get to talking in private. You know the doppelgänger of the "Yo Mama" joke: the "I Sure Treated Your Mom Like A Lady Last Night" rejoinder. Crazy how they used to go together, right? I remember it well. You know, I got to thinking about the joke and its rejoinder. Dude, I am realizing it's the paradox we're all up against--you know, the ritual of the joke and its rejoinder is a really hokey, no-frills version of what almost all of our cultures have been doing, on a large scale, to the vagina... and it goes a little something like this: first, in order to grow up as a man in this culture, you traditionally get a little schooling on how to insult a vagina from which your fellow man emerged, when he entered this earthly paradise. You learn how to tell a "Yo Mama" joke.
Let's break it down: the act of insulting the vagina your fellow man emerged from does you the service of priming you for engagement in many upcoming battles which will concern vaginas, at some point or another in the future, while at once also rendering a service unto your fellow man--for lo, he will be a man when he, too, can at once both defend the vagina he emerged from, and besmirch the one which birthed you! I'm remembering ALL this stuff from before my gender change. A mutual understanding arises between boys who undertake this two-fold ritual. It's a tradition. It's tantamount to schooling on how to engage in aggression against the vagina, while it is also presents a view of the vagina as being an acquisition. Really, the ritual sets the stage for rape culture. Not right away with the rape culture. But later on. Rape culture thrives when a man can stand to be elected to office by those of his peers who also like to play the rape culture game . . . and there they will be, running things, as fast as you can say: "Either you're a whore I can exploit, and dump, or a trophy-wife who makes me look good." Well, maybe that's hard to say quickly. How about, a man who plays the rape culture game can get elected to office just as fast as one can say..."Clarence Thomas!" "Anita Hill!" Or, "Exxon-Mobil!" Because really, the rape culture game can be expanded to fit the contours of our Mother Earth's body, can't it? Hasn't the oil industry already been raping our Mother Earth for so long?
So. Here's a "Yo Mama" joke I'll share with you, on the eve of the December 19th Electoral College vote--except that it isn't a joke, at all: "Yo Mama is so angry, she just marched on the streets of New York city with all the other mamas, all the way up to Trump Tower. She was holding a sign which said 'Women's Rights Are Human Rights."
And here's a rejoinder: "I Sure Treated Your Mom Like A Human Being Last Night."
Maybe an East Bay artist said it best, though, when he inscribed these words beneath his 55-foot tall metal sculpture of a naked woman, by the Bart train tracks out there:
"What would the world be like if women were safe?"