The re-launching of Chaser News, Part Fourteen: I am Feminista. You will hear me whisper as you hear me roar.

There is a lot of pseudo-feminism going on these days. You have ambitious women who think they are feminists by default, and they are not.

Feminism is not a sneaky way to deflect criticism when you are behaving like an asshole or a troll, and it is not about getting a position of power just because you are a woman.

You asshole have to earn it just like everybody else.

The toiling part doesn’t go away. What changes is that the goalposts stay the same for you and are in the same place as the men, and you both start on an even keel with no rigs favouring one sex or the other.

For example, how can Waterloo justify not giving Nobel-prize winner Donna Strickland a full professor position until she won the award?

She was obviously doing Nobel-prize quality work for years in order to get the prize.

That is a misogynistic oversight if there ever was one, and here is a newspaper article, all happy that she got it.

How many men in the history of that institution had to have a Nobel prize to get promoted to a full professor?

That is sexism. She obviously is very good at her job, and it took the entire world looking for the university to do right.

But there is a narrative that “women today” are somehow more liberated than the ones in the past, and that is not the case.

Women have regressed and have done so because pseudo-feminists have tainted the movement by using it as a mask.

The Brett Kavanaugh Affair showed just how much the #MeToo movement had been hijacked by rich white men. From being their own shining knights to being damsels in distress who needed a political party to save them, a single movement became a sexist stereotype that was no different than any action film where the woman is there to be saved.

And yet, there is silence instead of outrage.

It is, however, not surprising in the least.

#MeToo has become a Trojan Horse.

Because we have a society that lives in the perpetual Now, they have fewer role models to retrieve from their collective memories to compare themselves to in order to see how far off course they have veered.

Pseudo-feminism is very revisionist as it panders to those living in the present: Your foremothers were useless victims…not like you, you strong women!

It’s bullshit. Women throughout history have been rulers, warriors, thinkers, and players, and we should have great respect for them all.

People such as Flora Sandes, which I am certain, most people reading this entry will stare blankly, going who?

Well, for starters, she is Person #13 on the List of People everyone should know. She was a British nurse who suddenly became an Officer in the Serbian Army during the First World War.


She became a soldier in a foreign army, and made it up to Captain and was awarded the Order of Karađorđe's Star, the nation’s highest military and civilian honour.

And she was the only female Brit to be a soldier in the Great War.

Flora did not wait for the middle class to be woke to fight.

She reminds me a lot of my late grandmother Stanka Puharich, who is Person #14 on the List of People Everyone Should Know.


You are not going to find that eccentric savant and firebrand in any textbook.

She lost her entire family to the Ustashi in the Second World War. She would have died along with them if she had stayed in Bosnia instead of become a nurse on a medical train who also had to perform surgeries on wounded soldiers and take up arms and fight like a soldier when under attack.

She was beyond a liberated feminist.

She bearded for a gay pilot to protect him. She was never a bigot. She embraced all races and cultures, and was a flaming liberal until the end, voting for the Liberal Party from her hospital bed as she was dying by degrees.

She was a polyglot. She built her own ship, always won at poker, could cook like a chef, sew like a fashion designer, and could built a house and wire it herself.

She was artistic, mechanical, and had a Grade Three education because one moment her family were obscenely wealthy, and the next, she was working as a child servant. She could sing, crochet, fix motors, fish, and do anything she set her mind to with ease.

She was the Leonardo Da Vinci of her time, but no one actually could see it, and she was intellectually lonely because no one understood her and her Bohemian-feminist ways.

But I always could.

She was eccentric, daring, outrageous, and always had a wicked sense of humour. She had her idiosyncrasies, deliberately asking impudent questions to shock street thugs. She started swearing in multiple languages in her mid-forties, but dressed to the nines as she was also a very at playing Super Mario Brothers on my Nintendo as she picked up the controls and pretty much figured out figured herself, cheering “Yippie!” when she cleared a hurdle, and groused, “Oh shit!” when she got tagged.

She was huge Michael Jackson, Billy Blanks, and Wayne Brady fan, and nobody could ever say a bad word about them, although she thought both Bill and Hillary Clinton were stoka.

And boy, if you wanted to hear the most shocking swear words, just say Clinton in front of her.

She was a feminista.

She was also a dish and men always swooned in her presence, though she had no use for it.

She fought terminal cancer in her early forties, was given a couple of months to live, but got cured and lived another forty-plus years.

She was sweet, but had no trouble flying her freak flag sky high.

I modelled my character Alena Love after her (and her gay friend was the basis for the character Brock Logan the Third in Dr. Verity Lake’s Journey of a Thousand Revelations).

She always fought. She always had plans for twenty years ahead. She refused to know how old she was. She was blunt, and she was loving, and very good at jigsaw puzzles.

Since she died, I make it a point of taking something of hers for a spell. First, I shucked my smartphone for her old flip phone.

Now, I have decided to swear a lot.

I have the big things: the eccentricity, the liberated views of people, the persistence, but there are times where I want to take something small and have my heart travel with it for a while as well.

We both have a lot in common.

But despite all of her triumphs and adventures, you don’t know that once upon a time, there was a woman named Stanka Puharich who was decades ahead of her time.

We see easy to forget viral videos on Facebook or doodles on Google, but those are disposable and fleeting. They give no context, and neither does Wikipedia.

Chaser is not going to tell you about celebrities. Fuck them and their raging egos.

It will be about other people who do not mug for cameras.

This isn’t a gossip site that cheerleads people. It will be something far more useful than that.

Because feminism isn’t about roaring how great you are. It is also about hearing whispers, and understanding the nuances of people and what makes them tick.

Because the world ignores the women like Flora Sandes and Stanka Puharich; so it can spins lies that women do not have a rich and colourful history filled with great accomplishments.

I am not going to ignore those women or pretend women today are superior because they are not.

They have a lot of catching up to do and much to apologize for by thinking it makes a difference when you were born or where…