Reflections on Privilege, the Other, and the Iphone app “PeekabooTranny”
(Attention to subject matter below brought via Solar Bird, and has music that you may listen to here! here! Haven't had much of a chance to listen to yet, but looks interesting Angry elfquest? Support your local Seattle Bands!)
Cut for lengthy writing that doesn't have the word 'fuck' in it once below:
I don't particularly enjoy writing about feminist issues, privilege, or whatnot. One reason is that I'm not sure how many of my readers would be interested in this, and don't like hijacking the podium. Another part of it is that I'm as majoritarian as they come in terms of identity- ethnicity, abledness, and gender. I grew up in Orange County, California, where Ronald Reagan and christian conservatives got their mad on. I have felt and continue to feel the toxic influence of that culture upon my psyche. I feel the instinctive flinch, even in this day and age, to administer a corrective whack to the back of the head when somebody discusses being a feminist ally or GLBT ally, on the suspicion that somebody's trying to bamboozle me socially and that no one could be sincere in the earnestness of this statement.* And frankly, I'm not always aware of how much my own privilege shows in these writings, and getting rhetorically kicked in the bits for my ignorance isn't one of the more appealing experiences there is.** Prejudice exists in far higher resolution than I'm used to seeing. One example of this, is trans-misogynistic. Another is cissexist. Were you aware these concepts existed? If so, you beat me. I'm still cutting my teeth on Cisgender and Intersectionality. It also seems presumptuous on some level to expect other people to keep up on this, regardless of my own feelings on the subject.
All of this is preamble to my reaction on the latest Iphone App, “Peekaboo Tranny”. The official page states the app as follows: “Girlfriend, you may think that picture you’re taking is super cute, but wait until one of our fierce tranny gals jumps in and makes it a party!” The application tinkers with existing photos to add images of one of a few selectable “fierce tranny girls”. The appeal of the product is the reliance upon the 'exotic' images including “Trina Wreck***” drinking out of a beer bottle, threatening to suck a lollipop, or otherwise acting in a vapid fashion. My overall impression is of the introduction of the Magical Tranny****, a creature that only exists to give you, the boring app user, a chance to spice up your life photos with the overtly sexualized caricature of a one-dimensional libertine in form and thought.
The Apple store has given this the green light. I don't particularly think that Apple has put much thought in the deeper implications of the average app, which would put a damper in their license to print money and shit like this flies past the radar of pretty much every company. However, where fart apps are on the outs, “Peekaboo Tranny”, a name that in of itself should have drawn some attention, if only for the pornographic potential and slur, seems to have gotten a free pass. Whether Apple continues to give this their seal speaks more of their character than the fart app. To whit, following the guidelines behind their decision to turn down the farting apps, “ apps are all about adding real value to the end-user’s life and creating revenue for developer. ….If your app doesn’t do something useful or provide some form of lasting entertainment, it may not be accepted.” Perhaps I am narrow-minded, but I have a hard time believing this would fly if it involved adding wacky-party going drunk gays or lesbians. The marketing drive, such as it exists, is purely focused on the exoticization of a transgendered person*****, something that it still ok for us to fear in this politically correct day and age, to other, and to be affected by on a level we'd perceive as nonhuman, a novelty.
That this drive is the motive force behind “Peekaboo Tranny” is why I'm going to call up Apple and see if this is something they want representing with their seal of approval on. I would encourage you to as well.
* My visceral reaction to the initial encounter with this phrase, I hasten to stress, was 100% rocket-powered justified. The first ever college feminists' meeting (“What is feminism?”, perhaps only 3 years back-a late bloomer, I know) I went to, there were two men, me and this other prat, in about a crowd of 20 women. Stringy looking fellow waited in the back until the three presenters finished talking, then immediately grabbed the audience's attention and went on in length mansplaining for several minutes about how wonderful that 'you women' were, about the 'special flower of womenhood',before leaving, with that glowing satisfaction of knowing that His Point Was Made. Leaving me to hold the bag representing my gender. I could not have written a better stereotype of the '60's PsuedoFeminist wants to get laid'. In the words of Dave Barry, I Am Not Making This Up. Having said that, I realize that is not the norm and that perhaps I am cynical or uninformed. Or distrusting of group social dynamics, or the sincerity of people dedicated to change. But enough excuses.
** I've had a very 'sheltered' childhood, and frankly, most of my adulthood was more of the same. That shelteredness shows now and again, much to my frustration.
***. Anagram of Train Wreck? That was almost English-Majory. For a moment. Another names include ChiChi Burrito (worse if you know Japanese) and Jazmine Bone. Get it? Men bone?
**** Lacking a better allusion than the Magical Negro, I am left with this. I deplore broad comparisons of this sort-the current Civil Rights movement for gay marriage and trans acceptance, while noble in scope and thought, should not be compared, for better or worse, to the Civil Rights of the 60's, and doing so smacks of great insensitivity. Having said that, the term still seems apt. Perhaps this is privilege hanging out.
***** I await in vain for the alchemy App that discusses the values of spiritual Hermaphrodism. Everyone seems so focused on the other kind.
Cut for lengthy writing that doesn't have the word 'fuck' in it once below:
I don't particularly enjoy writing about feminist issues, privilege, or whatnot. One reason is that I'm not sure how many of my readers would be interested in this, and don't like hijacking the podium. Another part of it is that I'm as majoritarian as they come in terms of identity- ethnicity, abledness, and gender. I grew up in Orange County, California, where Ronald Reagan and christian conservatives got their mad on. I have felt and continue to feel the toxic influence of that culture upon my psyche. I feel the instinctive flinch, even in this day and age, to administer a corrective whack to the back of the head when somebody discusses being a feminist ally or GLBT ally, on the suspicion that somebody's trying to bamboozle me socially and that no one could be sincere in the earnestness of this statement.* And frankly, I'm not always aware of how much my own privilege shows in these writings, and getting rhetorically kicked in the bits for my ignorance isn't one of the more appealing experiences there is.** Prejudice exists in far higher resolution than I'm used to seeing. One example of this, is trans-misogynistic. Another is cissexist. Were you aware these concepts existed? If so, you beat me. I'm still cutting my teeth on Cisgender and Intersectionality. It also seems presumptuous on some level to expect other people to keep up on this, regardless of my own feelings on the subject.
All of this is preamble to my reaction on the latest Iphone App, “Peekaboo Tranny”. The official page states the app as follows: “Girlfriend, you may think that picture you’re taking is super cute, but wait until one of our fierce tranny gals jumps in and makes it a party!” The application tinkers with existing photos to add images of one of a few selectable “fierce tranny girls”. The appeal of the product is the reliance upon the 'exotic' images including “Trina Wreck***” drinking out of a beer bottle, threatening to suck a lollipop, or otherwise acting in a vapid fashion. My overall impression is of the introduction of the Magical Tranny****, a creature that only exists to give you, the boring app user, a chance to spice up your life photos with the overtly sexualized caricature of a one-dimensional libertine in form and thought.
The Apple store has given this the green light. I don't particularly think that Apple has put much thought in the deeper implications of the average app, which would put a damper in their license to print money and shit like this flies past the radar of pretty much every company. However, where fart apps are on the outs, “Peekaboo Tranny”, a name that in of itself should have drawn some attention, if only for the pornographic potential and slur, seems to have gotten a free pass. Whether Apple continues to give this their seal speaks more of their character than the fart app. To whit, following the guidelines behind their decision to turn down the farting apps, “ apps are all about adding real value to the end-user’s life and creating revenue for developer. ….If your app doesn’t do something useful or provide some form of lasting entertainment, it may not be accepted.” Perhaps I am narrow-minded, but I have a hard time believing this would fly if it involved adding wacky-party going drunk gays or lesbians. The marketing drive, such as it exists, is purely focused on the exoticization of a transgendered person*****, something that it still ok for us to fear in this politically correct day and age, to other, and to be affected by on a level we'd perceive as nonhuman, a novelty.
That this drive is the motive force behind “Peekaboo Tranny” is why I'm going to call up Apple and see if this is something they want representing with their seal of approval on. I would encourage you to as well.
* My visceral reaction to the initial encounter with this phrase, I hasten to stress, was 100% rocket-powered justified. The first ever college feminists' meeting (“What is feminism?”, perhaps only 3 years back-a late bloomer, I know) I went to, there were two men, me and this other prat, in about a crowd of 20 women. Stringy looking fellow waited in the back until the three presenters finished talking, then immediately grabbed the audience's attention and went on in length mansplaining for several minutes about how wonderful that 'you women' were, about the 'special flower of womenhood',before leaving, with that glowing satisfaction of knowing that His Point Was Made. Leaving me to hold the bag representing my gender. I could not have written a better stereotype of the '60's PsuedoFeminist wants to get laid'. In the words of Dave Barry, I Am Not Making This Up. Having said that, I realize that is not the norm and that perhaps I am cynical or uninformed. Or distrusting of group social dynamics, or the sincerity of people dedicated to change. But enough excuses.
** I've had a very 'sheltered' childhood, and frankly, most of my adulthood was more of the same. That shelteredness shows now and again, much to my frustration.
***. Anagram of Train Wreck? That was almost English-Majory. For a moment. Another names include ChiChi Burrito (worse if you know Japanese) and Jazmine Bone. Get it? Men bone?
**** Lacking a better allusion than the Magical Negro, I am left with this. I deplore broad comparisons of this sort-the current Civil Rights movement for gay marriage and trans acceptance, while noble in scope and thought, should not be compared, for better or worse, to the Civil Rights of the 60's, and doing so smacks of great insensitivity. Having said that, the term still seems apt. Perhaps this is privilege hanging out.
***** I await in vain for the alchemy App that discusses the values of spiritual Hermaphrodism. Everyone seems so focused on the other kind.