June 2013
Thin privilege is not 'acceptable body size privilege'
To call it that ignores into which category the vast majority of ‘acceptable body sizes’ fall — thin.
“I had an auto-repair man once, who, on these intelligence tests, could not possibly have scored more than 80, by my estimate. I always took it for granted that I was far more intelligent than he was. Yet, when anything went wrong with my car I hastened to him with it, watched him anxiously as he explored its vitals, and listened to his pronouncements as though they were divine oracles - and he always fixed my car.
Well, then, suppose my auto-repair man devised questions for an intelligence test. Or suppose a carpenter did, or a farmer, or, indeed, almost anyone but an academician. By every one of those tests, I’d prove myself a moron, and I’d be a moron, too. In a world where I could not use my academic training and my verbal talents but had to do something intricate or hard, working with my hands, I would do poorly. My intelligence, then, is not absolute but is a function of the society I live in and of the fact that a small subsection of that society has managed to foist itself on the rest as an arbiter of such matters.
Consider my auto-repair man, again. He had a habit of telling me jokes whenever he saw me. One time he raised his head from under the automobile hood to say: “Doc, a deaf-and-mute guy went into a hardware store to ask for some nails. He put two fingers together on the counter and made hammering motions with the other hand. The clerk brought him a hammer. He shook his head and pointed to the two fingers he was hammering. The clerk brought him nails. He picked out the sizes he wanted, and left. Well, doc, the next guy who came in was a blind man. He wanted scissors. How do you suppose he asked for them?”
Indulgently, I lifted my right hand and made scissoring motions with my first two fingers. Whereupon my auto-repair man laughed raucously and said, “Why, you dumb jerk, He used his voice and asked for them.” Then he said smugly, “I’ve been trying that on all my customers today.” “Did you catch many?” I asked. “Quite a few,” he said, “but I knew for sure I’d catch you.” “Why is that?” I asked. “Because you’re so goddamned educated, doc, I knew you couldn’t be very smart.” —
Well, then, suppose my auto-repair man devised questions for an intelligence test. Or suppose a carpenter did, or a farmer, or, indeed, almost anyone but an academician. By every one of those tests, I’d prove myself a moron, and I’d be a moron, too. In a world where I could not use my academic training and my verbal talents but had to do something intricate or hard, working with my hands, I would do poorly. My intelligence, then, is not absolute but is a function of the society I live in and of the fact that a small subsection of that society has managed to foist itself on the rest as an arbiter of such matters.
Consider my auto-repair man, again. He had a habit of telling me jokes whenever he saw me. One time he raised his head from under the automobile hood to say: “Doc, a deaf-and-mute guy went into a hardware store to ask for some nails. He put two fingers together on the counter and made hammering motions with the other hand. The clerk brought him a hammer. He shook his head and pointed to the two fingers he was hammering. The clerk brought him nails. He picked out the sizes he wanted, and left. Well, doc, the next guy who came in was a blind man. He wanted scissors. How do you suppose he asked for them?”
Indulgently, I lifted my right hand and made scissoring motions with my first two fingers. Whereupon my auto-repair man laughed raucously and said, “Why, you dumb jerk, He used his voice and asked for them.” Then he said smugly, “I’ve been trying that on all my customers today.” “Did you catch many?” I asked. “Quite a few,” he said, “but I knew for sure I’d catch you.” “Why is that?” I asked. “Because you’re so goddamned educated, doc, I knew you couldn’t be very smart.” —
Never confuse intelligence with education…
(via quantumfemme)
Mi padre siempre me decía que su mamá le enseñó que: “El más que estudia no es el más que sabe.” ¡Este es un buen ejemplo de eso!
My father would always tell me his mother taught him that: “He who studies the most is not the one who knows the most.” This is a good example of what she meant!
(via mujertropical)
This reminds me of that “a man and his son are in the car crash and then they get into the operating room and the doctor is all “I can’t operate on him he is my son” riddle. Gets me everytime and every time I am “I cannot believe I was that stupid AGAIN”
(via smashedbear)
- guys: uh why do girls care so much about being skinny? it's so annoying
- guys: ew fat chicks
- guys: why do girls care so much about shopping and romance and nail polish lol so annoying
- guys: ew crazy butch lesbian manly feminazis why can't they act more feminine lol
- guys: why do girls wear makeup they look so much better without it
- guys: oh i'm so sorry are you sick? tired? dying?
- guys: haha girls suck at math/science/sports
- guys: a girl who does math/science/sports? well? get back in the kitchen that stuffs not gonna get you a husband
- guys: why are girls so sensitive when we look at their boobs or something c'mon with that top you're asking for it
- guys: oh my god a gay guy just hit on me how disgusting what a creeper doesn't he have any boundaries?
Play
Thin privilege is people saying “You’re so lucky!” that you eat loads of junk food and retain your bodysize, instead of some variation of “You’re a disgusting drag on the human race and deserve nothing nice ever (and should probably just die).”
