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

Pablo, Kill!

Wednesday, I spent a little time knitting a cat toy and stuffing it with catnip. To say that Pablo enjoyed the toy would be an understatement.


At least someone other than the Republican elite had fun this Thursday.

And I’m not sure how this happened,


but he did it to himself. I came around the corner of the kitchen to find a plastic bag perched atop Pablo’s feline ass.

Not so fierce and feral now, eh kitty?

Black Thursday

Pouty Betty has returned to match my mood.

Do yourself a favor. Turn off the inaugural circle jerk and all the talk about political Providence. No god I am aware of would choose a man willing to lie, cheat, steal, and kill for his own ideological ends.

Today is Black Thursday and I’m holding my own one-woman countermovement. Dressed in black, yes I am, and no blogging until midnight. Further, I am devising even more long-term ways to divert my money from corporate entities to local entities and spread the word of what I know to be true. What can I do in the next four years that might make a difference in my immediate sphere? What can you do?

Media Girl has more counter-inaugural suggestions for those of us who cannot rip ourselves away from today’s responsibilities.

When You See Your 80 Year-Old Chinese Grandmother Wearing the Members-Only Jacket, You Know It’s Not Cool Anymore

But I have agreed to carry the banner of uncoolness.

Roxanne has decided not to continue heading her own special Friday Random Ten meme so I’m taking over Friday’s festivities with her permission.

In the meantime, Norbizness has asked us to list 10 movies ranked in the Bottom 100 of all time on the Internet Movie Database that you have seen. In honor of Roxanne (a moment of silence please):

  1. Troll 2 (#13)
  2. Battlefield Earth: A Saga of the Year 3000 (#31)
  3. It’s Pat (#34)
  4. Cool as Ice (#36)
  5. Shanghai Surprise (#43)
  6. Mannequin: On the Move (#54)
  7. Spice World (#59)
  8. Barb Wire (#72)
  9. Stop! Or My Mom Will Shoot (#74)
  10. Universal Soldier: The Return (#83)

I apologize for subjecting you to this list. Move along.

Berube Does It Better

Michael Berube writes parody in response to the inane statements about the “inherent” differences between the sexes uttered by Harvard president Lawrence H. Summers:

According to Kinbote, the presidency of Harvard University requires a unique array of talents and dispositions which, statistically, only a small handful of women possess. “For one thing,” noted Kinbote, “it has long been one of the president’s tasks to deny tenure to promising female scholars– personally, without stated cause, and after a department, a college, and a battery of external referees has approved her. My study shows that the X chromosome contains material that, in combination with another X chromosome, inhibits a person’s ability to do this.”

Men are also more adept than women at mentally rotating three-dimensional shapes on aptitude tests, Kinbote added. “You’d be surprised how often a university president needs to do this, and at Harvard the pressure is especially intense.” Kinbote estimated that the president of Harvard spends roughly one-quarter of the working day mentally rotating complex, hypothetical three-dimensional shapes, “and that’s not even counting all the time he needs to try to figure out why women aren’t as skilled at abstract mathematical thought.”

Dr. PZ Myers weighs in as well:

The article mentions that several attendees walked out on him, including Nancy Hopkins. I know Nancy Hopkins—she’s a molecular geneticist who has done innovative work with zebrafish—and I’m not surprised that she left in disgust. She herself personifies exactly what is wrong with these stupid comments by Summers. I am surprised and disappointed that everyone didn’t storm out.

I’ll tell you how much of a role discrimination plays in limiting female professors in so-called “elite” universities: 100%. There is no shortage of brilliant women scientists (or brilliant male scientists), but there is a dearth of jobs and we still have bigoted ignoramuses like Summers standing guard over the gateways…

…Guess what, Summers? Boys don’t have an “innate” tendency towards science and math. Leave them alone, and they don’t grow up into natural engineers: they become animals who like to eat and screw and scratch themselves. The most important contributor to that predilection for tinkering and building and learning is education. Any possible inherited differences are miniscule compared to the power of education and cultural biases.

And don’t try to pretend that socialization is minimal, when the president of Harvard can stand up and seriously suggest that many people are incapable of doing great science because they have ovaries. We don’t do research with our gonads, or our skin pigments, for that matter.

Apparently we were due for another high-profile man to fall publicly on the sword of sexism. Dumbass. Feministing has more on the fallout.

via Roxanne

Writing the Internet

If you could suggest up to five notable websites or blogs for an unsavvy web user, what would those websites be?

New Ed Blog

Required to keep a running journal for an education class this semester, I have decided to set up another blog.

Topics covered include our class readings and meetings, and later on in the semester, my final formal educational experience in the classroom before student teaching. I may also cover some experiences substitute teaching, as I plan to do this semester.

I’m not promising anything special (at all), but come by and comment if you’d like.

The Illusion of the Third Wave

From the new issue of Ms. Magazine, the generation gap is an illusion:

It’s no mystery why the discourse that has developed around the waves is divisive and oppositional. Writers and theorists love oppositional categories — they make things so much easier to talk about. Similarities are much more difficult. So, naturally, much has been said and written about the disagreements, conflicts, differences and antagonisms between feminists of the second and third waves, while hardly anything is ever said about our similarities and continuities.

The rap goes something like this: Older women drained their movement of sexuality; younger women are uncritically sexualized. Older women won’t recognize the importance of pop culture; younger women are obsessed with media representation. Older women have too narrow a definition of what makes a feminist issue; younger women are scattered and don’t know what’s important.

Nothing on this list is actually true — but, because this supposedly great generational divide has been constructed out of very flimsy but readily available materials, the ideas persist in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary.

On Being Woman in a “Revolutionary” Group

[7pm: Edits are boxed in for clarification. I stand by everything else.]

This week I went to the first EG Collective meeting for the new year. I neglected to comment on the meeting because I am still gathering information about the group’s goals, commitment, and identity.

There are things about the group that pique my interest, primarily community gifting like Food Not Bombs and Books for Prisoners. In addition, the group emphasizes the use of local businesses and small business districts only, collectives and infoshops, and the visibility of counter-movements that challenge the status quo. These things encourage local activity and the necessary creation of paths alternative to the norm.

After the meeting, I suggested via listserv that we try to get together over the weekend, in part for my own selfish reasons. Most leftist groups in the area that I have participated in have fallen apart due to disorganization, rapid drops in attendance, fleeting interest, or group infighting.

Only a handful showed up to this casual get-together, and by the time I got there, two in particular were lit up like Christmas trees. I got a drink and tried to strike up a conversation about the group’s goals, and also to find out what kind of people I was dealing with. Is a group about blowing up bridges and dams* or about shifting cultural imagination? So, while intrigued by the initial meeting, I needed to gauge the viability of the group and see whether I fit in with the group’s goals. While not explicitly considering myself anarchist by identity, I feel I share enough anarchist ideals to participate.

Last year, Jeanne at Body and Soul wrote on women in countermovements:

For those too young to remember, when things got tense in anti-war marches back then, you’d hear the cry, “Chicks up front!” Women were expected to move to the front of the march, to put their bodies between the police and male marchers, because those leftist men, for all their supposed distrust of the police, assumed that the police and national guardsmen were gentlemen who wouldn’t beat up or fire on women.

They were wrong.

For years, women had felt that their contributions to the civil rights and anti-war movements had been diminished, and that technique, that willingness to use women’s bodies as a shield, was a wake-up call, a radicalizing moment. It helped make a generation of women on the left ask: Are you sure we’re on the same side?

I left Saturday night’s get-together asking that very question: Are we on the same side?

About thirty minutes after I arrived, one of the collective’s men struck up a conversation with me. Rather, confronted me: Who is my favorite theorist? Do I like movies? No? What the hell is wrong with me? Do I read? Do I watch TV? What do I do for fun? So what’s up with my kid? And that was just the beginning.

This surely raised the hair on the back of my neck, but then [one of the drunken pair who is not officially a member of said group] touched on one of my biggest pet peeves when he said, “You watch CSI, don’t you? Man, I’ve got you all figured out.” This began a string of assertions [by the other one who is a member of said group] that I was a) easy to read and b) could easily fit into a tiny box of his own making. I don’t know if it was his drunkenness or a regrettable personality flaw, but I couldn’t tell if his attempts at a verbal beat-down were a subconscious attempt to assert superiority (I presume this comes from being a fresh grad student of philosophy) or a lame attempt at flirtation. My response was cold challenge — something about conversations like this are a dare.

Him: So, is leather your thing?
Me: What do you mean, “Is it my thing?”
Him: Is it your thing? Man, you are so easy to read.
Me: Oh, I see. You wear plaid so you must like Pearl Jam.
Him: Huh?
Me: Man, you are so easy to read.

Him: Have you read any Baudrillard? [he asked after giving me the third degree on my reading habits]
Me: Yeah. Have you read any bell hooks?
Him: No.
Me: You need to.

Him: You don’t care, do you?
Me: Nope.
Him: No, I mean you really don’t care.
Me: Nope.
Him: Man, you are so easy. You wear this bitch attitude…
Me: (interrupts) Maybe it’s just you.

This kept on for nearly two hours, only because I wouldn’t be the first to leave. This was probably stupid of me, but if he wanted to play a game of power and intelligence I would play right along with him. If anything, I wanted to make it clear that not only was I not phased by his educational status or mental library, but also that I would not roll over as a minority member of a group.

After two hours of this business, he finally got up to leave. Two of my friends had come and gone and were waiting for me to join them at another venue. I was disappointed and pissed off and questioning my ability to interact “in solidarity” with the kind of leftist who would end an evening with this kind of good-bye:

“You know what’s cool, you’re not a dumb girl.”

The irony of this situation failed to occur to him — as a member of an ideally non-hierarchal group he was awfully keen on setting up a pecking order. The more I challenged him, the more he seemed intent on setting up and maintaining that pecking order. And yet, the more I challenged him, the more intimidated he seemed to feel, the more he puffed up his chest and name-dropped authors he assumes dumb girls like myself don’t read, and the more he pawed the air for ways to make me feel inferior.

Needless to say, it didn’t work. I’m not easily intimidated by these kinds of arguments in part because I know I can hold my own, in part because he was drunk and I was sober, and in part because I was comforted knowing that nearly every sentence that came out of his mouth was a testament to his own hypocrisy as a man who espouses the abolishment of all forms of oppression while buying into gendered and educational elitism. I can only wonder about the other members of the group, as he is a founding member.

I am reluctant to continue with the group but will attend a few more meetings in an attempt to get a more accurate gauge of this group’s identity. If anything remotely similar to this incident occurs again, I am committed to confronting the group as a whole. Beyond it’s ridiculousness, this kind of behavior runs contrary to the very things for which the group stands.

I can’t find many dissimilarities to this other than the political mind of the aggressor.

* Stereotype! i.e. this is a joke.
Sort of. One argument within the movement, as with most left-leaning movements, is between those who believe that some violence is necessary and those that wish to adopt a non-violent or pacifist stance.

Update: Amanda weighs in.

Explicito Lingo: Downloads

This week’s downloads are some of my favorite rap songs, the guilty pleasures that I address in the post below on gender and hip hop. I won’t even defend their quality, as I know that my taste in hip hop is questionable.

Adina Howard – Freak Like Me
Remember her? She was one of the booty girls in the mid-nineties, pictured on the front of her albums bent over the hood of a car. Howard styled herself as a thug on the hunt for a thug, and contrary to the typical dichotomy of “dogs and bitches,” Howard addresses herself as a “dog” in this song, an interesting choice of language.

Trina ft. Trick Daddy- I Don’t Need You
Trina is, as usual, over-the-top nasty in this song. However there is one vaguely refreshing thing in this song, Trina’s nastiness is far more insulting than Trick Daddy’s rhymes, and after years of hearing insults of women’s sexual abilities lampooned in song after song, an aggressive answer dozens-style feels good. A comparable song is Too Short and Rappin’ 4-Tay’s “Don’t Fight the Feeling,” in which a woman shoots the both of them down in the most insulting of ways.

One thing I find incredibly interesting about the men who put out the nearly unforgivable misogynist songs is that they can then turn around and have their persona smashed to pieces by a woman in the next song. It’s too bad no one took up Ursula Rucker for a male/female rap battle on equal footing.

Akinyele ft. Crystal Johnson – Put It In My Mouth
I suppose you could call this a backward ode to oral sex, as it directly addresses both arts of cunnilingus and fellatio in the grossest of ways. Someone actually spent money for the studio, artists, and producers on this song. Johnson has a clear, lovely voice, and the tongue-in-cheek approach they take to this song is revealed when they can’t keep it together any longer and break into laughter at the end of the song.

Bone Thugs N Harmony ft. Notorious B.I.G. – Notorious Thugs
This is an example of one of the most irritating examples of female invisibility in music. I often find that if a mainstream rap song is not misogynist in nature, it is because women don’t exist at all in the world the song illustrates, or that women are tertiary objects meant to boost the image of the singer, similar to bling and rims. The only real references to femininity in this song is when Biggie says that his fame has allowed him to “fuck a few female stars or two,” and gives the thuggish version of the fish-in-the-sea thing: “All them hoes, I gotsta like one.” The way he says it almost sounds optimistic.

504 Boys ft. Mercedes – I Can Tell You Wanna Fuck
This slow jam could potentially be considered a love song of sorts, or perhaps the “realest” of hook-up songs, one in which it is understood that there will be sex with no strings attached. Mercedes, the female singer, exists purely as an answer to the male voice, affirming and encouraging the male singer’s fantasies.

N2Deep – Back to the Hotel
I told you I have no shame; this is where I prove it. This Latino group broke in the early nineties with this one-hit wonder. Apparently they remained underground producing CDs for a loyal fan base, but I can’t really understand why. This song is my ultimate in guilty pleasures. It is indefensible.

These songs in particular appeal to me either for the nostalgia or the beats, and all of them require a certain suspension of political and social knowledge in order to enjoy them for the short time they play (sort of like listening to AC/DC, Rick James, or Gary Glitter).

If you download or already know these songs I’m curious to know how you feel about them, not musically but lyrically. Other examples are welcome.