Showing posts with label sexism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sexism. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 7, 2024

Microstory 2208: Steep Physical Decline

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Weird and unexpected news today. Do you remember that high school student that I worked with at the nursery? Well, after she graduated, she went straight into an intensive program to become a lifecare assistant. It’s a lot more socially acceptable on your world to forgo a college degree, instead focusing on training for more specific fields of study or work. The reason it works here is because of how careful and methodical you are with your children’s skills, and learning schedule. You see, where I’m from, every student from before first grade to when they become an adult is expected to learn pretty much all the same things. You do that too, but you don’t take it quite as far. By the time a kid is fourteen years old, you should have a pretty decent idea of where their strengths lie, and instead of forcing them to struggle and struggle through the topics that they have a harder time with, you encourage them to concentrate on what they’re probably going to do with the rest of your life. Sure, you hear a few stories here and there on my planet of someone ultimately becoming a brilliant scientist after failing chemistry class, but really, how often does that happen? Anyway, I don’t have to tell you people this, you obviously already understand. My former co-worker has now become my lifecare assistant. It wasn’t even planned that way, it’s just a coincidence. I’m her first patient since she aced the final exam. She’s going to live with me in my extra bedroom. Due to my steep physical decline, while I don’t need a whole lot of help yet, the doctors believe that it’s only a matter of time. By the end of this, she’s going to be doing pretty much everything for me, including the gross and awkward stuff that no one wants to need help with. It’s a little embarrassing, yes, but I can handle it. She’s a highly trained professional, and I still prefer to be treated by a woman. I’ve always been like that. Sexist or not, it’s the way I am. I see no reason to request a new assistant either way. Be prepared for the next installment in which things get incredibly depressing and sad.

Thursday, April 11, 2024

Microstory 2124: Suppose Makes Me Sexist

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Therapy time. Part of my sentence requires that I participate in regular psychological treatment with an approved provider. Interestingly enough, while it’s fine for them to dictate the pool of therapists that I am allowed to choose from, it’s not legal for the court to determine the length of treatment. They can’t tell me how long the sessions should be, or how often they should be, or even how long I have to keep doing it. It seems weird, since the only thing stopping me from only meeting someone once can be found in other sections of the sentence, like the part that discusses making significant and quantifiable improvement in behavior. I could theoretically only go the once, and then just work on myself on my own, but that’s harder to demonstrate, so continued participation is the easiest way to measure progress, for everyone. The therapist doesn’t even have to sign anything to prove that I’m going regularly, or submit reports to the court. It’s basically on the honor system, though my parole officer will be able to give anecdotal evidence one way or another. I’ve spent all day narrowing the list of providers online to see who I might want to speak with, reading their bios, and taking note of their specialties. I immediately ignored all the male therapists, which has made this go a lot faster. I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not as bad as it sounds. I just feel more comfortable around women, I always have, especially when it comes to medical professionals. It’s not even a sexual thing, as I’m also attracted to men. I’ve just always found women to generally be more patient, compassionate, and understanding. And also less violent, though that doesn’t mean any professional has ever attacked me, or anything. I just have a preference, which I suppose makes me sexist, but I think it’s okay. The problem with sexism is that it leads to discrimination, and in my case, my feelings are never really to the detriment of others. I’ve never been in charge of hiring anyone, or firing them. If I were, I would easily be able to set this all aside, because it’s really just about how comfortable I am around them. I rarely go out of my way to make myself comfortable, and I recognize that there’s a difference between that and competence, intelligence, or social or professional fitness. Anyway, as per usual, I won’t give you any names, but once I find the right person, I’ll tell you a little bit about her, and will probably be mentioning our work periodically as I continue telling my story.

Wednesday, October 11, 2023

Microstory 1993: Purple Tie

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Myka: Is it okay that we’re all three here, and none of us is at the office?
Leonard: They’ll be fine. Deputy Director Robles knows what she’s doing.
Myka: Deputy Director Robles. Director Parsons.
Reese: *from the other room* What’s that?
Myka: We’re just spreading gossip about you! Keep putting on your pants! [...] It’s just crazy where we are now. Maybe it’s not as much for you, since you were in law enforcement already, but I never would have guessed that I would be working for a secret department in the government. How did this happen?
Leonard: I never would have guessed that I would be on an alien planet, dating an alien, and helping my alien boss friend try on outfits.
Myka: *giggles* I want to eat your brains.
Leonard: That’s zombies.
Myka: I’ve heard it both ways.
Reese: *comes into the room* Okay, what about this one?
Myka: *tilts her head* Not bad. As long as you have a purple tie to go with it.
Reese: Why does it have to be purple?
Myka: If you have to ask, you’re not ready for this look.
Reese: Okay, well, I only have one more option, so if you shoot it down too, I’m screwed, because we don’t have time to shop before the plane takes off this afternoon.
Myka: Go get it, boy! *slaps him on the butt as he leaves*
Leonard: I can’t believe he’s doing this. What is it even for?
Myka: All department heads report directly to NatCo. I have a feeling he’s going to be spending a lot more time at the Capital, and a lot less time with us.
Leonard: I hope Celandine is prepared for that.
Myka: I hope we are.
Reese: *comes back again* Okay, here it is.
Myka: Aww, you do have a purple tie.
Reese: *spins around* How does the whole ensemble work?
Leonard: Perfect, my man.
Reese: *takes a breath* I wish you two could come with me. Not even necessarily in the meeting, but just knowing you’re waiting out in the hallway, or even back at the hotel; I would feel a lot more comfortable. I’m not enthusiastic about being alone with him.
Myka: You’ll do great. You have a penis, so you’ve got that going for ya.
Leonard: How do you know that?
Reese: Wait, what does that have to do with anything?
Myka: He’s notoriously sexist. You’ve never heard the saying? If you’re a man, he’ll shake your hands. If you have boobs, he’ll rub your shoulders.
Reese: That doesn’t rhyme.
Myka: I don’t think it’s supposed to. It’s just true.
Leonard: Well, I’ll be sure to criticize him for that in person.
Myka: I think that would be a great idea. *straightens his tie* Anyway, we better get to the airport. I’ll drive so Leonard can go over your talking points with you in the car.

Thursday, March 9, 2023

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: January 4, 2399

They’re at it again. Arcadia and Vearden are at the doctor’s office. Every four weeks, like clockwork, they schedule an appointment, with a few extra appointments sprinkled in between. Today, they’re here for a special reason, as they have decided to preemptively find out the sex of the baby. They have been thinking of her as a girl pretty much the whole time, but they obviously don’t know that for sure. A doctor that they don’t recognize comes in looking at the chart as Arcadia is dangling her legs off the edge of the table. “All right, Mrs. Haywood.”
“Uh, Preston,” Arcadia corrects. “Haywood is his name.”
“I see. And why are you not yet married?”
Arcadia winces. “I thought we had an understanding at this establishment. Where is Dr. Garver?”
He sighs. “Dr. Garver had to be let go, I’m afraid. She was being too lenient with her patients. You know how women are,” he says to Vearden as if Arcadia weren’t even there. “You have to be firm, or people will lead unhealthy lives.”
“Being unmarried is unhealthy?” Arcadia questions.
“No, it’s a perfectly legitimate life choice...if your religion says that you can—”
“It does,” Arcadia interrupts.
“Right.” He’s really having trouble communicating with his patient, instead wanting to focus on the man, since Vearden is automatically treated as a well-adjusted, non-hormonal, reasonable human being who is allowed to make decisions. “Now, we’re here for an echouterogram, correct?” Yeah, he’s looking at Vearden again.
Arcadia snaps in his face. “Hey, yeah, it’s me. I’m the patient. Look at me, please.”
“I’m sorry, I’m just used to dealing with male patients.”
“Aren’t you an OB/GYN?”
“A what?”
Different words for things here. “A gyniatrician.”
“I am, yes.” No elaboration.
Arcadia has half a mind to leave, but she doesn’t want to make a scene. “Yes, I would like an echouterogram. We would like to know the sex at birth.”
“What do you mean, at birth?”
Yeah, she keeps forgetting about stuff like that. She doesn’t really want to raise her child in a world that has flying cars, but no openly transgender people. Assuming it’s even in the cards, though, when will it be safe to travel to any other reality? This place is awful, and this guy is awful. That’s it. They can’t escape to the main sequence, but they don’t have to stay here. Vearden doesn’t even need her to say it. As the hack doctor is turned around to wash his hands—which they’re surprised he even bothers to do since Arcadia isn’t a real person, and can’t get sick—Vearden stands up to grab their coats.
“What were we thinking, normal convex or endovaginal? Now, most ladies prefer me to just stay on the outside, but I like to really get in there, and take a good look around. Wadya say?”
“I say, go screw yourself,” Arcadia spits. She’s wearing her coat over her gown, which she doesn’t intend to return to the facility.
“That’s just the hormones talking.”
“Can I?” Vearden requests of his girlfriend?
“Doesn’t make you any less of a feminist in my eyes.” Arcadia decides.
Vearden holds the door open for her, and then punches the doctor in the stomach as he’s stepping out himself. “That’s..not gonna leave a mark,” he snipes.
They both climb into the car, but don’t leave yet. “We’re going to the government,” she declares.
“I thought you didn’t want to involve them in this.”
“I don’t,” Arcadia confirms. “But to be fair, I said that months ago, back before Team Matic and Kivi had strengthened their relationship with them. I think maybe they can be trusted...or trusted enough anyhow.”
They drive straight to the government hospital to check in. They don’t even have to say anything; Arcadia looks exactly like Agent Matic, and at least some people are already aware of Arcadia’s current medical condition. A hopefully real doctor comes into the room after she only has enough time to undress.
“Miss Preston, how are we feeling today?” That is the right way to start a visit.
“I’m feeling all right. I feel bigger than I feel like I should,” Arcadia replies.
“Well, everyone develops differently. It’s not the size that matters, it’s the strength of the labor pain medication, I always say. We’ll have a look, though. Firstly, my name is Dr. Cenric Best, and I can be with you every step of the way until delivery. It is government policy for gyniatricians to take vacation either one day at a time, or after forty-two weeks. I should ask, are you comfortable with a male physician?”
“Yes, as long as you don’t criticize me for being married.”
He winces. “I’m not married.”
“We had a bad experience with our last so-called doctor,” Vearden explains.
“Well, we don’t like those here; bad experiences. I’m going to do everything I can to make this a safe environment, and a painless procedure. When you look back on these days, I hope you remember them fondly. It will make it easier on your relationship with your child.”
“That makes sense,” Arcadia says.
After a few more questions so that Dr. Best could get to know Arcadia and Vearden better, he begins the ultrasound procedure. He uses the external wand, as opposed to the endocavity one, since it should be good enough for their needs. As it turns out, they were right, they’re going to have a little girl. And when she’s old enough, she’ll decide if she wants to keep being a girl, or be something else, and they’re not going to let anyone in this reality tell her otherwise. Once it’s over, Dr. Best starts looking over the results, as well as Arcadia’s past visits, which the other facility sent over.
Arcadia is concerned “Is something wrong, Doctor?”
“Hmm? Oh, no. It’s just...what’s the earliest you could have gotten pregnant?”
“Very early September; it’s impossible for it to have been any earlier.”
“I was briefed...briefly regarding your origins. Forgive me, but how long is a member of your species usually pregnant for?”
“Forty weeks. It should be the same as you. We’re all human.”
“Of course, yes. It’s just...”
“It’s just what?”
“Well...” Dr. Best wavers. “She’s gestating rather quickly, and...it’s accelerating. If she keeps this up, and I did the math right, you may give birth in April—not June.”

Thursday, August 4, 2022

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: June 1, 2398

When Angela Walton was first alive, she was a pretty submissive girl, as was common in those days. She didn’t believe in the things that her family did, but she wasn’t outspoken about it either. Her father was patient enough to let her wait to marry a man she loved, but that was about as lenient as he could tolerate to be, and he lost that patience when her fiancé disappeared. She would marry who he chose, and that was final. It wasn’t until after her death that Angela started to find herself. The interesting thing about the afterlife simulation is that it wasn’t millennia beyond the technological limitations of the living world. For most of its history, it was only ever moderately more advanced, despite the fact that the devisers were from the future, and could have always included modern tech. They chose not to in order to keep the residents comfortable, and feeling safe. Teaching a mammoth hunter to use a microwave oven is probably just asking too much. So for the longest time, the virtual worlds pretty faithfully resembled the real world, because that’s all those people knew. That would change in the future, when science fiction began to open up people’s imaginations, but there was always one thing that was shockingly progressive.
According to Tamerlane Pryce, he put no effort into regulating the way society manifested itself in the construct. He claimed to have let the people decide for themselves. This is likely not entirely true, but not totally inaccurate either. Based on some few and far between studies that dead researchers tried to conduct over the centuries, it would seem that the act of death alone is enough to alter an individual’s worldview. That is, they gain perspective simply by passing on, and often lose a lot of the prejudices and hate they once lived with. The theory was that this process was fostered by the fact that everyone dies alone. When John Doe makes the transition, he does so removed from all the people who fueled his beliefs and preconceived notions. The people he meets now have either been there for some time, or they came from other parts of the world. That’s what philosophers imagine Pryce regulated—knowingly or not. He set up a system that grouped newcomers together through a filter of diversity, and studies have proven that living in a diverse area is the number one cause of acceptance and love. What this all means is that racism, sexism, and other biases are harder to hold onto when borders have been removed, gender roles have been ignored, and no one can rise to power without deserving it.
When Angela rose to power, it was after centuries of hard work. She had to shed her old identity, and her old personality, and pretty much become a completely different person. If not for the fact that she looks the same as she always has, no one who knew her before her death would recognize her now. She doesn’t take other people’s crap anymore, and she doesn’t just do as she’s told. If you want her to trust in your choices, you have to prove that you’re worthy of making them, and if you don’t, she’s going to decide for you. Maintaining a normal job in a mundane world is a skill that Marie honed for four years before the rest of her team showed up. She learned to listen to the words of lesser men, because she would lose it all if she didn’t. Angela has yet to learn this lesson, and her meeting has demonstrated just how far she has yet to go. None of Marie’s training could have prepared her to suffer through all that bullshit. She speedwalks to the bathroom at her first opportunity, and retches into the toilet.

Monday, December 27, 2021

Microstory 1786: Virgin By Nature

I accepted long ago that I wasn’t ever going to find myself a partner, or even just a warm body for the night. I was doomed from the start, and I’ve been branded an incel because of it. It’s true that I’m what one might call a virgin—though, that is an outdated term—and it’s true that it’s not by choice, but that doesn’t mean that I blame others for my situation. This is all me, and I take ownership of it. I wish there was a term for people like me. Since that word has been attributed to terrorists, rapists, and mysoginists, I’ve tried to just call myself a loser. It’s not a particularly favorable term either, but at least it distances me from those violent and aggressive men who believe the world, and its women, owe them something. I am a socially awkward extrovert. Yes, you read that right. I love putting myself out there, and meeting new people. I’m just incredibly bad at it. I’ve tried to take seminars, and watch tutorials, but none of them has worked. Many of them come off just as angry and entitled as the incel movement. I don’t know how to talk to others, no matter how badly I want to, or how hard I try. I keep saying the wrong things, and making myself look like an idiot. I always look weird, and make people uncomfortable. So what exactly is my problem, and is there anything I can do to fix it? I don’t think so, but even if I were better at communicating with people, I’ve realized that it doesn’t really matter. I’m traditionally unattractive. Yeah, I may be able to alleviate that a little with better hair, and hipper clothes. I may even be able to learn to express myself appropriately. That’s just the first filter, though. There are plenty of people in this world who are willing to look past looks, or are just as awkward as me, and could probably deal with it. But they won’t get past my other filters.

What is a filter? Well, people use them all the time when forming relationships. They don’t walk around with a sign hanging from their necks that announce that they’re available, and then just accept the first person who responds positively. Once they find someone they’re attracted to in some manner, they look for common ground. What do they both like to do, or what aspects of their personalities complement each other? Do they get along, or do they have too many differences? If those incompatibilities add up and overweigh the things they like about each other, the relationship either ends healthily, or becomes toxic. Unfortunately for me, those incompatibilities are pretty much guaranteed to be there from the start. The biggest filter is drug use. I can’t be with someone who does recreational drugs, including alcohol. I can’t stand drunks, and while I support recovering addicts, I still can’t relate to them, and I don’t know how to help them. That right there wipes most people off the board. Some people are sober because of religion, but I’m a staunch atheist, so that wipes off most of who’s left, because I can’t stand those people either. I would have to find a nonreligious teetotaler who likes to dance all night, and even listen to techno off the dance floor. That person just doesn’t exist, especially not when you account for other filters, like gender, relative age, and sexuality. Because the most important filter—the only one that’s necessary for me to remain alone—is other people’s filters. I may find the perfect girl, but if she doesn’t like me, it can’t go anywhere. It won’t even begin. That’s what truly keeps me from finding a soulmate. I don’t want to be with someone who would want to be with someone like me.

Monday, September 14, 2020

Microstory 1451: All The Queen’s Men

Ladytown was a success, and that seemed great for the people living there, but that caused problems for the Aljabaran Republic, because that was not what they wanted to happen. It was meant to be a total failure. What these leaders did was fail to consider the consequences of their own actions. At the time, it seemed prudent to require that a population of men move out with the women, but that ultimately put their whole evil plan at risk. In 2119, the fifth administration passed a new law that forbade anyone from leaving Aljabara. According to publicly available documentation, Ladytown was fine out there, but if it was going to survive, it would have to do it on its own. They were not allowed to benefit from Aljabara’s hard work, and advancements. Behind closed doors, the truth was that they didn’t want to lose their entire constituency to this new settlement. If they weren’t careful, they would lose power altogether, and letting Ladytown exist would have been the biggest mistake they ever made. By halting immigration, they would have to persist through later generations. Well, some twisted men did some bad math, and discovered that the immigration laws were only going to help protect the Republic’s power in the short term. Later administrations ran the risk of being overtaken by what they called the unchecked propagation of the species by a whorish race with no regard for resource limitations. Basically, they said that, given enough time, Ladytown would grow far beyond their control, because women couldn’t be trusted to not just have babies left and right. Of course, people were having children at a reasonable pace for their current population size, and living conditions, but that didn’t matter to the government. The women had to be stopped, and the only way to do that was to kill. That wasn’t usually their style, but they were paranoid and desperate.

They didn’t wipe out all of Ladytown, though. They only decided to kill certain people. The problem was that the Republicans still couldn’t simply go to war with these people, because it would reflect poorly on them, and make them out to be the bad guys. So how does one go about targeting an entire sex, and only that sex? The answer the doctors came up with was haemophilia. This was going to be no easy task. Haemophilia was an inherited trait, and no one had been diagnosed with it since the year 2020. They still had a sample of the boy’s blood in the archives, but they couldn’t simply inject people with that, and wait for them to contract the disease themselves. They had to synthesize the disease itself, and attach it to a virus, so that it could spread. It had to spread quickly, and die out on its own before it could reach Aljabara, however, or the whole human race on Durus would be doomed. They spent years working on this problem, until they finally came up with a viable solution in 2128. It was devastating. Like a viral blanket, they dispatched a very loyal woman to claim to be a refugee, seeking asylum in Ladytown. She was not able to get sick from the virus herself, but she managed to infect half the town, and by the time anyone knew what was happening, the other half caught it as well. It was the first truly violent thing that the Republic ever did, but unfortunately, there wasn’t anything they could do about it. Everyone pretty much knew that the government was responsible, but they couldn’t prove it, and no one was brave enough to try. Nearly every single male died of this extremely aggressive viral form of haemophilia in a matter of days. They didn’t have the resources or expertise to stop them all from bleeding out. They were only able to save one. A mage remnant placed her teenage son into temporal stasis, until medical treatment could be developed to combat the disease. And that young man went on to save Ladytown.

Friday, September 11, 2020

Microstory 1450: Ladytown

After the fourth fake election process, people were really starting to wise up that their voices weren’t counting for all that much. Law after law was being passed, limiting women’s rights more and more. Nobody wanted to try for another revolution, but things were definitely not going to get better without one. It seemed that the only option was to secede from the union, and break the algebra apart once more. One might think this movement would be struck down swiftly and definitively, but Republican loyalists still only ever wanted to solve their problems through deception, spin, and other forms of strategery. The day they instigated war was the day they lost the approval of all the civilians who were at least happy that their lives were safe and secure. Many women were starting to get used to the new system, and didn’t complain anymore, because the more they opposed the rules, the worse those rules became, and the harder things got for those who didn’t support them. The female spirit could not be crushed, though, and there were still plenty of people who did not want to live under the man’s thumb. They didn’t want to revolt either; they just wanted to live their lives in peace. Perhaps the only way to do that would be to strike out on their own. They worked slowly, just as the phallocratic movement started way back during the Interstitial Chaos. They quietly built support, and gained momentum. They followed all the rules, and pleaded their cases in the appropriate ways. The only women working towards this goal had support from their husbands, leaving the ones without it with their mouths shut, only able to hope this would somehow also help them. Still, the Republicans made no attempt to shut them all down, because they did not want public opinion to sway out of their favor. In fact, they agreed to the secessionists’ pleas, but of course, they had some conditions. 

The first and most important condition was that the settlers were not to interfere with the affairs of Aljabara, nor make any attempt to war with them, or steal resources. Fine, they didn’t want to have anything to do with the city anymore anyway. Secondly, not only did some men have to agree to go to the settlement with them, but there had to be a certain ratio of interested people, according to gender. Well, that made things a little more difficult, but not impossible. Not every man’s life was super great under this regime, and many of them saw the ratio as beneficial to them. Lots of daughters who did not yet have husbands wanted to go, which sons without wives saw as a numbers advantage. The one condition that made it clear that the administration had less than no respect for women was that the government would be allowed to name this new settlement for them. They decided to call it Ladytown, principally because of how stupid it sounded. That wasn’t their only reason, though. By now, misogyny was ingrained in society as the way things were. All children alive at this point had grown up under these rules, and if they were ever told how civilization once worked, they possessed no context, and couldn’t fathom it. It sucked to be born a girl, and boys were aware of this fact, unlike on Earth, where many guys were oblivious to their own privilege. The government’s requirement that some men sign up to go with, in the government’s eyes, was contradictory to the name. What man would want to live in a place called Ladytown? Well, maybe the older ones would if they had fewer prejudices. They added an age mandate, which required there be a certain number of younger men, in order to combat the idea further, but as explained, this wasn’t too much of a problem either, since these younger men hoped to find wives, and some were secretly okay being with a bunch of independent women, in a settlement called Ladytown, without the comforts and freedoms they could find in Aljabara. In 2117, Ladytown was founded on the other side of Watershed. They complied with all conditions, and didn’t make trouble. They didn’t last forever, though.

Thursday, September 10, 2020

Microstory 1449: Gender Laws

Under the Republic on Durus, women were considered untrustworthy. Later on, laws will be passed to allow a woman to earn merit points for her loyalty, and enjoy some extra freedoms, but these freedoms will never include full autonomy. They will never be able to vote, and they certainly could never be allowed to hold public office. They were allowed to work certain jobs, but only under heavy supervision, and with responsibilities that didn’t result in too much damage when they inevitably made mistakes. But what they had not considered until around 2109 was the definition of woman. As bad as the Durune Republicans were, they didn’t see themselves as sexist, homophobic, or transphobic. Their distrust of women was rooted in something completely different from the systemic sexism that pervaded Earthan history. They cited very specific examples of particular women who caused problems for society. It still wasn’t right, but it was at least based on psychology and culture, rather than physiology. At least that was how they justified their position. That led to some questions, however, that no one had had time to think about until the system was fully established. It was clear that two men were totally free to be in a relationship together, but what about two women? Well, lesbianism in itself wasn’t wrong, but now there was a lack of male influence. They definitely couldn’t raise children, because..same problem. New laws had to be passed under the third administration that covered these topics. Lesbian relationships still required male supervision, so a man had to be included to some capacity. This man was obviously not entitled to sex from either one of them, but as far as household duties and child rearing were concerned, he would be in charge. After this was settled, there were more questions on gender that needed to be answered.

Because of the prevalence of time powers—and the absence of help from Earth—technology developed on its own unique path. It was a little steampunk, and a little sword fantasy, and even a little bit space western. They still had doctors, but the medical facilities were severely underresourced. About the only thing they excelled in was the dissemination of theoretical knowledge. The library came through completely intact, which allowed anyone to learn just about anything they wanted. In fact, throughout all of history on this planet, no leader made any attempt to stifle the pursuit of an education. Not even Smith tried to stop people from getting smarter. Unfortunately, this wasn’t enough, because reading about performing a complex surgery was a lot different than having the experience to do it safely. The only surgeries that were being done were the essential ones, because if something went wrong, the patient was likely going to die anyway, so at least someone tried. Sex reassignment surgery did not fall into this category. No one had the expertise required to complete a transformation, and they certainly didn’t have the experience. The few doctors with official credentials who made it through the Deathfall didn’t even know how to do it, and either way, they died decades ago. Technology was indeed progressing, but it was happening at a snail’s pace compared to where they would be if they were still on Earth. Still, as far as the Republicans were concerned, an individual had the right to identify as any gender they wanted. This didn’t mean every woman’s problems were solved. According to the Republic’s main tenets, women were not trustworthy. It didn’t matter if they were born with female parts, or not. So someone born a girl could not just claim to be a man when he got older, and suddenly his life was as easy as it was for other men. People generally agreed to use whatever pronouns he needed, but he still did not enjoy the upper class life. On the other hand, if a man decided to start identifying as a woman, she would lose all masculine advantages and entitlements, so there was very little incentive to transform in that direction. Still, it happened, when a woman-on-the-inside just couldn’t take behaving like someone she wasn’t, even though it meant losing a lot of privileges. There were more tweaks to gender laws to be ironed out over time, but this was the start.

Wednesday, March 4, 2020

Microstory 1313: Virus (Part 1)

Seasoned Reporter: Ma’am, I know what you’re going to say, but I just can’t do it. I have too much integrity.
News Editor: Seasoned Reporter, I’ve told you a thousand times; this is 2020—call me sir, just like you would anyone else.
Seasoned Reporter: And I’ve told you twenty-eight times to please refrain from hyperbole around me.
News Editor: Tell me more about what you said in regards to your integrity. What does that have to do with an assignment that your superior has given you?
Seasoned Reporter: The girl you want me to interview is a joke.
News Editor: She’s a woman.
Seasoned Reporter: Okay.
News Editor: Do you have a problem with the fame that a woman has garnered from her work?
Seasoned Reporter: I know everyone thinks that I’m sexist, but I’m not. I don’t care whether she has a—um—I just don’t think that I would call what she does work. She makes silly and uninspired videos that unchallenged middle schoolers can watch when they should be doing their studies.
News Editor: Have you watched any of the videos yourself?
Seasoned Reporter: I’ve not.
News Editor: So, you don’t know what it is you object to.
Seasoned Reporter: I don’t know to what I object.
News Editor: Right. Do you think maybe you shouldn’t be prejudging this person? Maybe you should take a look at her creations, read a little bit about her accomplishments as an influencer, and take a look at her outreach statistics?
Seasoned Reporter: I know that sounds reasonable, but I object to the very idea of an influencer. It is not a job in itself. I am an influencer. I reported on war zones, and I was the first journalist to get the maniac who inspired the film Severe to open up. These are the things that I did, and because of how they impacted my audience, I influenced the world. Kids these days aren’t actually doing anything. They just decide they want to be influencers, and because of their looks, it happens for them. They don’t have to be thoughtful, or provocative, or do anything at all. They just need clicks. My nephew taught me that word. It’s all about clicks.
News Editor: Is that any different than what you do? Sure, you tackle serious issues, but you’re still just as preoccupied with readership and viewership as any of us. If no one sees what you’ve done, then does it really matter? Are you more important than Miss Viral Sensation just because she focuses on entertainment instead of news?
Seasoned Reporter: I would prefer to not answer that.
News Editor: I think you just did.
Seasoned Reporter: Now, wait. You can’t just infer—
News Editor: I’m going to phrase this in the form of a question, and leave it up to you to decide whether it really is a question, or actually just an order that’s been disguised as an option. Do you understand what’s about to happen?
Seasoned Reporter: Umm...I think so.
News Editor: Then here’s the question.
Seasoned Reporter: I hate airquotes.
News Editor: Are you going to interview Viral Sensation, like you’ve been told, or are you going to continue making problems, and giving your boss a headache?
Seasoned Reporter: ...
News Editor: ...
Seasoned Reporter: I’ll do the interview.
News Editor: Great answer. What was it like, being the interviewee for a change?
Seasoned Reporter: I didn’t love it.

Monday, September 30, 2019

Microstory 1201: Ira Park

Ira Park was one of the good guys. He wasn’t raised to be a good person, so it was something he had to develop on his own by rejecting society’s outlook, particularly on women. He was probably autistic, though the field of psychology was severely lacking on Durus, since people were really just focused on surviving, or on oppressing half the population. Either way, he didn’t see the world in the same way he was expected to, and once his mage remnant time powers manifested, he knew how he was going to help. He had the ability to generate wards over a specified area or building. These protected the rightful owners of the space—which Ira could assign—against all intruders. They prevented unauthorized access using time powers, or just physical force. They were basically magical locks that limited admittance. Needless to say, his skills were in high demand for people looking to protect themselves, or just enjoy a higher level of privacy. At first, Ira worked for anyone who would hire him. He knew he had to develop his reputation, and grow his business, before he could use his powers for good. It was only after a few years that he started secretly protecting the rebel thicket. The thicket was an organization comprised primarily, but not exclusively of women. They fought against the oppressive abuses of the phallo-centric government, and sought a world of political and social equality. They weren’t violent, or even all that loud, which was probably why change came at such a slow pace, but they were not wholly ineffective. Their main responsibility was to rescue and harbor enemies of the state, and abused women who managed to find the courage to leave the men around them. In this capacity, Ira’s warding powers were priceless. He didn’t ask for any form of compensation for these services, and didn’t support the rebellion in any other fashion. Both he and the thicket leaders felt it was prudent for him to do this one wildly valuable thing for them, and nothing else. Any more noise would have painted a target on his back, and made it that much harder for them all to remain secret and hidden. It was of absolute importance that he remain a free man, so he could continue to help him in his best way. Once the phallocracy was toppled, the truth of Ira’s involvement with the thicket came out to the public. He suddenly had a whole bunch of enemies who now understood why the former government never made any headway in putting the rebels down. Unfortunately for them, it wasn’t like they had any means of retaliating. His wards protected his person at all times, so he perpetually walked around with an impenetrable shield. He was only ever rewarded for his noble actions, by people grateful for his bravery in a world that did not always appreciate it. He continued to work as a ward creator, though he could now be much more open about it. His power increased as well, as did the powers of many others, like it was the existence of the corrupt government itself that was keeping them down. He never used his gifts to help criminals, or anyone with known backwards ideas about how the planet should be run. He provided safety and security to a lot of people on Durus, and he did it for next to nothing. They even named a new wildlife reserve after him, located in an area once overwhelmed by thicket. Fittingly, they simply called it Ira Park.

Monday, September 12, 2016

Microstory 406: Floor 37 (Part 1)

I refuse to accept the possibility that I had anything to do with our company’s problems. First of all, it’s not my job to predict the future. I was hired to facilitate the process of hiring new people. Even if I had the expertise to pick the right person for any given position, they wouldn’t give me the leeway to do such a thing. I am completely beholden to the whims of the department in question. You wouldn’t believe the amount of disgusting things I’ve heard come out of the mouths of team managers in regards to the candidates. I’ve heard racist, sexist, and downright cruel statements. If I had it my way, I would fire a hefty portion of the current workforce and replace them with my own vision. But that’s not my job, I don’t have that power. You would think it would be rewarding to only ever give good news. If you apply for a position here, and we “decide to go in another direction” you don’t even hear back from us. That’s a disheartening truth, but I can’t change policy. But it also means that I don’t contact the candidates except to offer them interviews or positions, or to get them from the waiting room once the conference room is open. But you can’t make change just by addition. Subtraction is a necessary component to the process, and I find it personally frustrating that that is not within my purview. I’ve been silently proposing for years that we completely restructure the corporate environment. We should create an entire department whose sole responsibility it is to monitor performance. Now I know what you’re thinking, that exists, and it’s called human resources, but not really. They too only have so much power. No, honestly, there are too many cooks in the kitchen. We can no longer allow this hierarchical model because it simply does not work. My labor management department would be more hands on with the recruitment process, keep track of performance reviews, and wield full authority to turnover employees on an as-needed basis. You see, managers, executives, and other leaders don’t have time to deal with the needs of the labor pool itself. They’re too busy running the company. My new department would have no say on what products we sell, or what markets we venture into. We would only be responsible for the people. Unfortunately, it’s too late for this organization. I didn’t go to school to become a corporate recruiter. It’s just something that I fell into—did you see that? I think someone just fell down the atrium.