In defense of the sanctimonious women's studies set || First feminist blog on the internet

Getting To Know You, Getting To Know All About You

I asked, you answered, then I aswered.

randomliberal/Robert: What…is the air-speed velocity of an unladen swallow?

Are we talking an African swallow or a European swallow?

Although a definitive answer would of course require further measurements, published species-wide averages of wing length and body mass, initial Strouhal estimates based on those averages and cross-species comparisons, the Lund wind tunnel study of birds flying at a range of speeds, and revised Strouhal numbers based on that study all lead me to estimate that the average cruising airspeed velocity of an unladen European Swallow is roughly 11 meters per second, or 24 miles an hour.”

Roni: What color should I dye my hair?

Don’t. Your hair is gorgeous, the kind of thing us whitey chicks die for.

Chris Clarke: What do you hear right now?

Honestly? I’m listening to Danzig. Bring the shame.

Heliologue: You have a single-use time machine, and, assuming the laws of quantum physics don’t apply and the grandfather paradox is a non-issue, what is the one thing you would change/observe firsthand/&c.?

If I have to choose, I’d choose Martin Luther King’s “I Have a Dream” during the 1963 March on Washington. We need more leaders. Everything else I would want to see firsthand would be so damned depressing I couldn’t handle it.

Shankar Gupta: All-time favorite movie?

I don’t like movies all that much so it’s difficult to pick an all-time favorite. As a kid, my favorite movie was “Empire of the Sun.” This may account for my bad taste in film. Most recently my favorite movies have been “Whale Rider,” “The Ice Storm,” “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind,” and “Before Night Falls,” in other words, serious movies with complicated characters that make me sob. I may hate them but I still get emotionally sucked in.

media girl: How do you like brunette? I was thinking of doing the same, but I’m hesitant.

I like it! I had to pick a color that wouldn’t amplify the pink in my skin. I scoured all the boxes for non-olive-skinned models with brown hair and got one solitary color, Havana Brown.

The cool thing is that I get less unsolicited advice, though I’ve now been informed that the Bettie Page/dominatrix thing might be a stronger effect. I hope not. In other hair-related news, I’m growing my bangs out a bit. My cowlick tends to make the left side stick straight out of my forehead.

Baubo: What do you consider to be ‘radical’ feminism?

Judging by most public reaction to feminist thought it appears that weilding the label is in itself radical. I think most feminists get labelled radical from the outside when so steeped in feminist language that the layperson is lost in the loaded language and gets an entirely different effect than the one intended. That said, I think feminists like Dworkin and MacKinnon, who had many valuable things to say, had metaphors and euphemisms so entrenched in self-referencing feminist discourse that they are lost on non-academic and/or obsessive-compulsive feminists too. On occasion I reread “The Whole Woman” by Germaine Greer, the book that introduced me to hardline(-ish) feminism, and realize I took far different meanings from the text than I do now that I am older and more versed in the theory. I tend to read these texts with a more critical eye, knowing that this is in part the reason why feminism has had such a hard time becoming an accepted tool to work against systematic oppression.

What is usually considered “radical” feminism is the feminism that is often accused of waging war between men and women. My feminism is more tempered than that, believing that men and women suffer under patriarchal systems and that superficial power based on earnings, gender, color, religion, and social status have little real value to them. This is, in some circles, considered quite radical. I obviously don’t think so.

norbizness: When John Cusack is holding up the boombox to serenade Ione Skye with a Peter Gabriel song in Say Anything, isn’t there a part of you that wishes that the speakers were only loosely connected, and the middle part of the boombox slips out and bonks him on the head?

I’ve never seen it. But yes.

Kyle Hasselbacher: How long is the answer to this question?

It depends. It might be very short or very long depending on the question. Judging from your short question, I imagine the answer would be shortish as well.

mac: What are the nicest and meanest things you’ve ever been told?

Meanest, being told I was ruining my life by becoming a mother to Ethan. That statement filled me with a simultaneous doubt and anger that I’ve never been quite able to shake, primarily the notion that I may have “ruined” Ethan by refusing to be anything other than a mother to him. The sweet irony is that the man who told me that is now a single dad. I hope he remembers that.

Nicest, I don’t know. I’m not good at receiving compliments. The highest compliments to me are the ones with a simple adjective during a time of self-doubt. Timing and intent. I can remember the first time someone referred to me as articulate. Another time elegant (laughable, if you ask me). I’d rather be complimented on my intellect than my looks. If one is to compliment me on my looks, I prefer an even evaluation of the whole. I’d like not to be reduced to my parts, but go right ahead and compliment me on my outfit. I’m vain, too, you know! I still can’t take them even though I remember them forever.

In fact, I remember more of the banal statements that people make than the ones intended to be full of meaning. I think we reveal more about ourselves when we’re being unmindful.

Thomas: Parenting excluded, what are you proudest of in your own life?

Parenting excluded, I know that most of the things I will be proudest of are in the future. I’m proud of this blog and the community that you guys give me, being somewhat socially isolated. I’m proud of my garden this year, and my little family, cats included. Like with compliments, I feel pride for the smaller things.

Manogirl: If you could move anywhere, where would you go – supposing that the whole world is open to you?

For good? Hell, I haven’t thought that far yet. Not much of a self-dreamer here. I honestly love the Midwest and imagine a home base here for me for a long while, even if I move to another city or state. In the meantime, I’d like to do some serious travel. Should I move out of the Midwest, I’d like some coastline.

OTTami: Do pedicures tickle? I’ve never had one.

Yes, and I’m not ticklish whatsoever.

Rosepixie: What is your favorite book and why?

Hard question! I don’t know that I’ve read a book I didn’t like. I could list for days. That said, I am still in love with Jeanette Winterson’s “Written On the Body,” which I read it for class on gender lit with Dr. B. several years ago. It is a high-concept novel about love, loss, and gender constructs. In the beginning the genderless (or -full) narrator laments that love can never be explained without the use of cliche, then Winterson manages to create a loss-of-love story that does exactly that. She relies on anatomy textbooks, of all things, to illustrate the depth of physical and emotional love. Beautiful, wonderful, thought-provoking book.

jam: is there anything better than fresh dark garden dirt squishing between the toes?

Cheese.

Sydney: Would you describe yourself as an idealist or a realist and why?

A cynical idealist. Sometimes I don’t know why, the cynic in me. Somewhere deep inside I believe that humanity isn’t down the toilet yet, that we have real potential as a whole. We do! But the realist in me realizes that most people on this planet are preoccupied with other things: making it through the day, surviving war and famine, navigating terrible relationships, operating under oppressive regimes, and in America, too involved in hedonistic consumer-based culture, to work toward something better for all people, not just a select few and not just for our selfish selves. I’m torn between caring too much and not caring at all. Really.

Adrienne: Have you ever shot a gun?

Oh, lord no. Guns scare the shit out of me. I once had a friend who had a spring-loaded glock. I wouldn’t touch it until he took it apart for me. He instructed me on how to put it back together and once I did, I realized I was holding a damn gun and dropped it.

Yet, I was raised around guns. My father had at least half a dozen around the house and was a champion skeet shooter (no puns please).

ScottW714: What is the meaning of life?

To seek meaning in life.

Sina: What’s your favorite wine?

Wine! Ever since I started dating the French chef, I’ve been sampling a lot of wine. I was intimiated at first — liquor is liquor and beer is beer, but wine is in a whole other category. Because we’re both broke we drink cheap reds that run around $10 a bottle, $15 at the most. I like Lindemann’s Shiraz and the Castle Rock Pinot Noir. Both are decent table wines that you can drink easily. I’m much pickier about whites because I really dislike sweet wines. They smell like cheap perfume. Nonetheless my pseudo-roommate always makes me drink whites. The reds do turn my teeth pink.

On occasion the boyfriend have a wine contest and pick out a bottle apiece based on its packaging and taste test. I always win (because I say so). The last winning wine that I picked out was Red Knot, and it was quite good.

Ron O.: How do you like your PB & Js? Open-faced or closed? Toasted or not? Other variations?

Ethan and I are quite fond of PB and honey on wheat bread. If not, we go Elvis-style without the bacon fat.

Lisa: I wanted to ask favorite books, but Rosepixie beat me to it. So what would be the perfect way for you to spend the day?

At this point I desperately want a vacation. I want to get in my car and drive somewhere, anywhere. Make it a long drive, all day in the summer, with great music and bad radio. And NPR. When I get there, with a lover or friends or whomever, I don’t want to know anyone there except my travelmate. I want a beach and wine and all sorts of artisan cheeses, and to lay around in the sun like a cat or a whale and get terribly sunburned. Then I want a dress that actually fits me (damned hips) and to go out and do something frivolous. At the end of the day, I want to know I can do it all again the next day.

Stephanie: Are you planning on or would you like to have any more children in the future?

Oh, that question. Some days yes, some days no. Considering my chances of getting HELLP syndrome in my future pregnancies, my logical side says hell no. Get me around a small baby and I get killer womb lust. It will be many years before I have another child, if I can with good health.

louise: JAM–I remember when I was a kid YEARS ago when we went to our grandparents farm in Arkansas and….this is the truth…chicken poop squished between our toes. However, it was not a cool feeling like mud or dirt or soft rain water!!

Mom, that’s not a question.

Know the Lord

With summer classes afoot, I’ve had to let a few principles go.

E goes to a summer camp in the morning and then with my mother in the afternoon. This week, my church-going mother agreed to work the church’s Vacation Bible School, a somewhat innocuous five-day sermon complete with crafts and coloring books. Ethan goes with her. They learn a new Bible verse every day.

I’ve never been big on Biblical verses, and even when I was a good non-atheist church-goer preferred the abstract rendering of God and Holiness to textual representations of Christ. I decided when Ethan was born that I would allow him to choose if, when, how and whether he wanted to take part in an institutional faith. I wouldn’t push him in any way. Ethan appears to be a mini-heathen in the making. He goes to church with my mother on occasion and I answer his questions as best I can, biting my tongue more frequently than I should.

He is, most of all, obsessed with the idea of a soul. What is a soul? Where does it come from? Can I find it?

I tell him that soul can be found everywhere: music, movies, trees, the fish pond, in himself, everywhere. Not just in church. Last night when we rode our bikes to campus for ice cream, we sat outside and I told him that if anything didn’t make sense at church to ask me or Grandma about it. He told me he doesn’t believe everything they say. “I don’t either,” I told him, “but there are some important lessons there.” We talked about kindness and charity and love and how all people have the potential for such, not only those within church walls, and how these things should not be confined within church walls. He seemed satisfied.

The other day my mom was discussing the day’s Biblical lesson with Ethan. She too wonders how much he has internalized the things they teach in church, albeit for different reasons than I.

“E, do you remember the verse for the day?” she asked.

“Know the Lord,” Ethan replied dutifully.

“Good!”

“But the only Lord I know is Lord Vader. And he’s evil.”

Recruitment Calls

The best response I’ve ever heard given to an army recuriter goes a little something like this: “Look, I’m lazy and I’m a fag. I refuse to wake up at 5am every morning to wear that ugly green. And I’m gay! Did you hear that? GAY!”

I was tempted to use this line, originally reported to me by my best friend’s big gay brother, when they phoned me at seventeen. I felt bad. I was working as a telemarketer at the time, dreadful job, and knew what a downer it was to hear the line go dead on every phone call. I let the man finish his spiel about paying for college and a possible stint with the Reserves before I told him I was pregnant. “Oh,” he said. “Have a nice day.” And then he hung up on me.

I got a phone call from an Army recruiter yesterday. Knowing that they were short on recruits this year and remembering my telemarketing days, I decided to let the guy talk. He asked me what I was doing this summer.

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Forty-Four Categorized (But Difficult to Read) Links For Your Perusal

Feminism
Men with uppity wives make less money. Why? Because women are naturally suited to housework. No surprise to find that the man conducting this survey is also “very concerned” with “family values,” i.e. subjugation of an entire gender for the children. The children!

Were you wondering where the male bloggers were during our latest dicussion on rape? Ross says it loud and proud: “I am not my cock.” And as a follow up, Ross offers more cock fun.

Comprehensive feminist theory based on the Smurfs. No, really. Can sexism be maintained in an asexual system?

Bitch Ph.D. discusses the political aspects of her home-work divide with her stay-at-home husband.

Patriarchy Blaming Q&A: Why do you want to ban porn? Also, although we (can) wear short shorts, your liberty is not what it seems.

You aren’t a real man unless you make fun of drag queens.

Some people are feminists and they don’t even know it.

Ginmar does a privilege check on gender, sexuality, rape, and gatekeeping.

Mythago writes on the “not my boyfriend/husband/father/friend” phenomenon, feminist protectors of sexism.

Rivka adds her wonderful voice to the discussions of rape:

It’s a classic anti-feminist double-bind. Women are supposed to believe that men’s sexuality is so powerfully animalistic that they can’t be expected not to attack women, and we’re supposed to believe that men are good guys. We’re supposed to teach our daughters never to be alone with a boy, and yet we’re not supposed to embitter them against men. We’re supposed to constrict our lives so extremely that no man could ever perceive even the slightest hint of a sexual invitation, and we’re supposed to be okay with it.

No thanks.

Ol’ Cranky reports on the AMA setting rules for pharmacists who opt to opt out of their job descriptions. In another post, she reveals how the “what she was wearing” rape argument is a translation for “we rape you as a service to inform you your stylist sucks.”

Media Girl’s mystery of the day: Mysogynist Women.

Violence is power — Becky on depictions of “powerful” women in fiction.

Bitch Ph.D. talks about abortion, abortion procedures, and moral agency. At dKos, StormComing writes on abortion as well, saying, “Abortion is about autonomy. Abortion is a core value.”

At Preposterous Universe, Sean makes a compelling argument against Kos in the now infamous “pie fight.”

If you don’t know already, Amanda is a pornographer because she loves sex. She is also part of the female supremacist plot to control television.

Society
Culture Kitchen wages a 4th of July challenge: write a new Declaration of Independence.

The Other Dark Meat details advertising for a “non-tribally owned” casino. In other words, this casino is for those who prefer their vices white.

Chad tells the story of race and class privilege among colleagues in academia during a posh night out for dinner.

Noli Irritare Leones follows up on the Lost Boys of Sudan with many compelling links.

A horrible “go back to your own country” kind of story in which rednecks ignore that brown people are Americans too.

Politics
PLS at Whirled View details how she is “overpaying” for her “free” knee repair.

My Other Boyfriend sounds off on Terri Schiavo.

Mac-a-ronies weighs in on Jeb Bush and the never-ending Schiavo case.

From the Dept. of Important Shit, Media Girl takes on why women’s issues are a core Democratic issue.

County unemployment rates, voting statistics, and military deaths are, not surprisingly, related. But not how you think.

Loaded Mouth: Snowflakes or Genocide?

The Internets
.xxx marks the wet spot.

Net-oriety,” fame through blogging.

What She Said! on blogging, bloggers and sex.

At the Booman Tribune, a writer writes why Kos is not worth fighting for.

Entertainment
A review of Eyes Wide Shut complete with accompanying moral lessons on TomTom and Kubrick.

When They Were Young: A photographic retrospective on childhood. Beautiful pictures of children from the past in all shapes, colors, and sizes. Lovely stuff.

Education
Check out the ASL browser. This American Sign Language dictionary, the best internet-based dictionary I’ve seen, features short videos for every word.

Stories
Jesse tells a rightfully embittered story about his father on Father’s Day. The comments in this thread are equally heartbreaking.

Dr. Charles tells the story of an elderly woman attacked by her vicious Maine Coon cat. Pablo? What are you doing?

The Sarcastic Journalist recounts her horrible pregnancy-related constipation. There is nothing better than being told to lay cable in the shower by your freakin’ doctor.

Two Rings: Another (cute) side to the wedding ring debate.

Cops sure know how to party. At a sex toy party.

Another Weblog Survey

Take the MIT Weblog Survey

This one looks like a class-based survey on webloggers. The total results are available immediately after you are finished. Many of them are quite interesting, not what you would think.

There is a serious dearth of women taking this survey. Take it, ladies, and bias be gone (we’d like to think).

All Things Come From Whoops

I am working on putting together and refining a five minute story to be told for an American Sign Language exam tomorrow. Chuck, my evil and competent classmate, is great at this stuff (as well he should be, writing his thesis on ASL grammar and syntax and all). Me? I can’t remember the goddamned vocabulary and without vocabulary I have nothing.

The assignment is this: five minute story about a short weekend trip in which plans were interrupted. Include signs for “whoops” and “hell.” It must not be boring.

Literally.

My version is a trip to Chicago, could also be Indy. What I need is the “whoops.” Any suggestions?

Come Again?

Idiot:

Ecclestone made news last week with his comments made in response to Patrick’s fourth-place finish at the Indianpolis 500.

Asked about Patrick’s success, Ecclestone acknowledged her strong finish, but then made an assessment about women racing with men that caused a stir, saying, “You know I’ve got one of those wonderful ideas … women should be dressed in white like all the other domestic appliances.”

On Saturday, Patrick received a phone call from Ecclestone, in which he complimented her on her performance at the Indy 500, the Indy Star reported.

But Ecclestone caught Patrick off guard when he repeated to her his statement about women and “domestic appliances.”

“He told me those things, and I was like, I don’t know, I just didn’t make sense of it,” Patrick told the Indy Star on Tuesday in her first public remarks since the quote drew national attention. “I can’t believe that he would say that … directly to me.”

…The 74-year-old told Autosport racing magazine in Feb. 2000 that women would never excel in Forumla One. He added that if a woman did make it, “she would have to be a woman who was blowing away the boys. … What I would really like to see happen is to find the right girl, perhaps a black girl with super looks, preferably Jewish or Muslim, who speaks Spanish.”

via Brutal Women

Get to Know Your Blogger

I have nothing to write about today unless you count the forty bookmarks on my desktop that need to be organized into yet another massive link round-up. It’s going to be a relaxing day, goddammit. In about an hour I’m off to get a pedicure. Gardening has embedded an amazing layer of dirt into my callouses that I can’t get out on my own, mostly because I refuse to wear shoes in the garden — dirt between the toes is delightfully squishy! My feet are dir-tay, so bad I have to pay someone else to do it for me.

In the meantime, we’re going to play the Ask Anything game. If it is good enough for Mac, it’s good enough for me.

Two rules:
1) Please ask only one question. It can be serious or silly.
2) Leave your burning question in the comments by 6pm EST.

I will answer these by Friday. And if this tickles your fancy, steal this game!

Here You Go

Ethan likes it, and that’s what matters.

When we combed the aisles for the color I wanted, E pulled me down to his level and told me that he really likes my yellow hair but he’d love me no matter the color. It has a bit of red highlight in person, and oddly, my hair looks healthier and fluffier. I know because E told me so.

I keep catching glimpses of the hair in my periphery and think, “What the hell is that?!” Oh, my own damn hair.

The much-requested picture.

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