Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Dear Levi's: You Suck

So Levi's apparently thinks the only thing wrong with the world is that men don't have enough rights. Yep, in an attempt to sell pants they're trying to convince dudes that they should be in charge of everything, all the time, and that will make the world a better place and make everyone happier.
Hey Levi's?

InfamousQbert has a post up about it with a screenshot, which I copied. See the fail for yourself.
I just can't even deal with how fucked up that is. Anybody else care to weigh in? And feel free to repost this everywhere. And I mean, everywhere. It worked with Method- who's to say it can't work again?

Hat tip to InfamousQbert.

Friday, December 4, 2009

Art Is A Hammer

So I was thinking about this random quote: "Art is not a mirror. Art is a hammer." And I was thinking about art. And Ivan E. Coyote. At the same time. Cause I'm good like that. I discovered Ivan via Sugarbutch, and zie- this is a good person for nonspecific pronouns- is just brilliant. Amazing. I think every femme has her list of butch heartbreakers, and mine generally involves intellectuals. I mean, I can't discount k.d. lang or Dylan Rion, but my heart (and uh, any other regions) throbs for brainy butches: Rachel Maddow, Alison Bechdel and of course, studly genius Sinclair Sexsmith. So there's this video of this edible and nutritious butch, reading a short story with quite the Canadian accent (is there a word for that?). I have never heard that much Yukon in one person's voice before. And zie's reading about the methods and difficulties of packing, and I nearly swooned right there in front of my monitor-not to mention in front of my fiancee. I was entranced.

And this was before I was even really aware of hir words. And I had to start the video over, and actually listen to it (did you know blushing makes it hard to concentrate? I didn't). And hir writing is... warm. It's funny, and accessible, and sometimes a little wistful, and I savored it. I went to the library and read The Slow Fix, which was all the library had, and when I was done I wanted more.
Zie's writing about Canada, and often about solitude; I should be cold, shivery and lonely (I'm a rather empathic reader) when I'm done, but I'm not. I'm warm and as I read I'm smiling . It's like hearing stories about my family, and since many of hir stories describe being gay in a not-very-post-homophobic world, in a way it is.
Zie describes hirself as a "kitchen-table storyteller", and that's exactly what it is. And I love it.

I enjoy being taken by surprise by art. I was taking a class in Florence and one day, we went to an art gallery. "Cezanne in Firenze"; Impressionist art. Heretofore I'd always thought of Impressionism as 'pretty'. Monet, Van Gogh. Starry Night, Water Lilies, all that jazz. And then at some point while I was wandering around absorbing these paintings... I changed my mind.
The color, the strokes of the brush, the way you can tell how the artist was feeling about the subject or the day or the paints just from the damn painting! -it just blew my fucking mind. I stayed for two hours, I spent my lunch and dinner money on a book of the exhibition's art, I couldn't stop talking on the way home. I was wired, like I'd had an adrenaline orgasm and a pot of espresso. I was on fire, it was a revelation. I was thunderstruck by Impressionist art.
I know there're some people that don't feel the same fiery passion for their spouses that I can feel about art, or sex, or teaspooning against injustice, or sometimes even discussions of philosophy. (Yes, I'm serious.) And I am sorry for those people.

And I guess the point of all this is that Ivan E. Coyote's work didn't hit me like a hammer. And I was okay with that. As I read, it opened itself like a window, it wrapped around me like a blanket, it felt good under my hands like a leash or a steering wheel, like it wasn't going to take me anywhere I didn't want to go.
Something I know is that people revere classics, but they read stories. I feel as though I have found a friend in this author, and when the world is sad and scary I'd rather have a blanket than a hammer.

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Life Is Pain, People

Here at Things That Piss Me Off dot com, we're having an influx of annoyance.

People who annoy me today include:

-People who respond to my criticism of pop culture with something like: "You shouldn't take it seriously, it's just supposed to be mindless entertainment, it's not for criticizing (what does that even mean?), you're reading too much into it, blah blah blah I have no native intelligence blah". I get so fucking tired of that. It's not that I'm taking it too seriously, it's that you're not taking it seriously enough. For fuck's sake.

-The guy in my landlord's office today. The receptionist jokingly said "Would I lie to you?" at one point in the conversation. His reply? "Sure you would! You're female!" and then kept going "Never had a woman not lie to me". In a room full of women- the employees and me and another tenant! I felt my eyes get big. I turned and left as soon as I could, but what I wanted to do was say "Hey, asshole- maybe there's a reason all those women keep lying to you." I hope that guy steps in an ankle-deep puddle and has to slosh around with wet socks all day.

-The librarian who acts like I'M the criminal when a library book is stolen from me. It was rather difficult to hold on to my temper when she asked me for the third time how I could be sure the book was stolen. How could I be sure? Because there was a big empty spot in the place where I left it, that's how!

-Libertarians. Just in general.

That's it right now. I had a good post planned about the effects of art on our psyches, and about my upcoming TV blogging, but fuck it. My brain hurts. People suck today. That's it.

Monday, November 30, 2009

I Watch TV

So in stunning news, I watch TV! This TV-watching doesn't just include educational things like MSNBC, the History Channel (a favorite of Ferret, actually), or the Bran Network. I watch cartoons, oh yes I do. Among others, I watch Chowder, and Spongebob, and Phineas and Ferb. Now what do these shows have in common? Well, the first two were both worked on by the same guy, C. H. Greenblatt. (Yes, that's his real name. He also worked on The Grim Adventured of Billy and Mandy, which I also LOVE.)
Anyway, that AND! They are some of my favorties to watch. They are all lots of fun and not too think-require-y and generally not problematic in terms of the messages or ideas behind the storylines. They usually have good messages or (in the case of Chowder) are so cool to look at that I don't care that the message is something like "Don't fill up your boss's kitchen with a family of fart-clouds". Don't ask.

The not-silver lining here, the problem that I have with these 3 particular cartoons- but not JUST these 3- is the female characters. All 3 shows are centered loosely around a pair of male characters. When they have ladiez onscreen, it's to be a romantic interest or a punchline. The female characters are usually more 2-dimensional and less sympathetic than the guys. And that makes me sad, because I wish there was something I could watch on TV for pleasure that didn't make me wince at every girly giggle or shrieking harpy caricature.
But alas, guess not.

Let's get started, shall we? I'll be listing the main characters in each show, a couple supporting characters, and some traits, as well as whether or not we are meant to like each character. Me snarking about gendered behavior will be in italics.

SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS: Who lives in a pineapple under the sea? This show is about a sponge who's a fry cook being happy and well-dressed at the bottom of the ocean. Has been applauded for lack of sex and violence. Most of the characters don't exhibit stereotypical gendered behavior, which is refreshing. However, there're a few, and my main problem is that the female characters get way less screen time and are more often the butt of the joke than the male characters. Another case of male-as-default.

-Spongebob: Likable. Happy. Naive. The star of the show. Loves being a fry-cook, weirdly.
-Patrick: Likable, sort of. Very, very stupid. The literal star(fish).
-Mr Krabs: Crusty and really stingy, but sometimes sympathetic.
-Squidward: A squid, Spongebob's neighbor. Not likable. At all.
-Sandy Cheeks: Her name is a pun. Ha, ha. She's a literal outsider (a squirrel, underwater). She is shown as being smart, usually. Also a tough, athletic karate expert, which is refreshing. Unfortunately, she is in less episodes than, say, Squidward.
-Mrs. Puff: Spongebob's long-suffering driving instructor. A widow. Not a main character, but the only other regular lady in the series, besides
-Pearl: Mr Krabs's incongruous whale daughter. Spoiled girly teenager <-- Gasp! I've never seen a teenage girl depicted as bratty and spoiled before!
-Plankton: The bad guy on the show. Shouts a lot, and is really small. Has some issues, and I think this because of
-Karin: Plankton's wife, whom he made. Because she's a COMPUTER. Yeah. And every once in awhile he threatens to "unplug her" or "take her apart and build a new model" cause that's not creepy at all. <-- Wife as nagging and unsupportive.

CHOWDER: Fairly new to the scene. Features cool animation and visuals, as well as several different media like puppets or claymation. It's about an apprentice chef in a fantastic city where everyone has the name of a food. A lot of the humor is crude or absurdist. We are meant to understand that there are flaws in all these characters. Strangely enough, we don't often see anyone else cooking besides Mung and Chowder. Not sure why.

-Chowder: Happy. Gluttonous. Inept and scatterbrained. Seriously, would rather eat than cook, and in later episodes, endangers everybody with stupidity.
-Mung Daal: Head chef. Not a bad cook, I think? Patient with Chowder. Married, but still loves "the ladies", who don't generally love him back, as he is not quite as irresistible as he thinks. <--Oh look! Gendered behavior!
-Truffles: Mung's wife. Small and irascible. Everyone in the kitchen is afraid of her. Often yells, especially at her husband. She's the receptionist; we don't see her cook. <-- This would be nice, except it's a catering company. So, yup, lady-as-secretary. Also, lady-as-bitch.
-Schnitzel: Rock monster, sous chef. Really strong, serious, and often aggravated by Chowder. Responsible and long-suffering. Only says "radda".
-Panini: Ms. Endive's apprentice. Competent cook (we assume), feminine and very aggressive. Better cook than Chowder (not that that's hard), but we rarely see her cook. Freakily obsessed with being Chowder's girlfriend. Chowder isn't interested, so of course she stalks him compulsively and calls him "Num-nums". She gets pretty scary. <-- Do I even need to go into detail?
-Ms. Endive: Not likable. Image-conscious. Probably a better chef than Mung, her rival, but we don't get to see her cook often. She's huge, and her size is often a joke. Kind of deranged. Lonely, but treats everyone so badly we see why she's so unpopular. Simultaneously hates men and longs for a relationship. <--Really?? Come on. It's been done, people!
-Gazpacho: Runs the fruit stand. Mung and Chowder are customers, friends, and apparently neighbors. Neurotic and socially awkward. Lives with his mother, who is implied in one episode to be a split personality of him, a la 'Psycho'. Not sure if this is canon, but we never see her. He talks a lot about 'Mother' and describes some pretty creepy things. <--Another dude henpecked by a lady, even if she is... him. Maybe.

Mostly the gender jokes in this show are "Aren't women crazy/demanding/irrational/heartless/really crazy?" There's at least one or two per episode.

PHINEAS AND FERB- This is an awesome show about 2 stepbrothers who spend every day of their summer vacation inventing crazy things and having wild adventures. Lots of running gags and at least one catchy song per episode. Very little meanness and lots of creativity and friendship. They also have several female characters, it's just... you'll see.

-Phineas: Genius kid who has awesome ideas.
-Ferb: Genius kid who's quiet and knows how to build incredible things. The series revolves primarily around the crazy things these two build in their backyard every day of summer, despite the efforts of
-Candace: Their sister who's obsessed with 1)Getting them in trouble for their wacky inventions- meaning first getting their mother to believe her and 2)Her love-interest, Jeremy. <--Lady as spoilsport? Also, does crazy things for a man. Sigh.
-Stacy: Best friend to Candace. Kind of ditzy. Gives advice on shopping and boys. That's about all we see. <--Cause girls don't think about anything else! Unless of course they're
-Isabella: Smart, intrepid, goes on lots of adventures with Phineas and Ferb. Also adorably cute and infatuated with Phineas <--Aww, we were doing so well til that sentence! She's also the leader of
-The Fireside Girls: Mostly-unnamed (they're usually just shown as a group) and ethnically diverse troop of Girl-Scout types who are adventurous, smart and resourceful. Yay!
-Linda: Phineas and Candace's mom, who hides a past as a pop-star and goes around all day doing "mom" stuff. Doesn't seem to have a job. Never believes Candace and in fact, usually suggests she's crazy and mocks her behind her back. <--She's a mom, and that's about all we get.
-Laurence: Ferb's dad. British. Easygoing and a little loopy.
-Dr. Doofenshmirtz: Inept bad guy inventor out to take over the world, starting with "The Tri-State Area!" Played for laughs, definitely. Constantly thwarted by his battles with
-Perry the Platypus: Phineas and Ferb's pet platypus, who's actually a secret agent. Yeah, don't ask. It's funny though.

So essentially, this show is one of the better ones, it's just they have a lot of problematic issues with their treatment of girls. Candace is never believed and told she's crazy, Stacy's a ditz, and their Mom is apparently a SAHM who's utterly clueless. Other than that, though...

So you see? I feel like, even in cartoons we're not safe from gendered stereotypes. These shows are fun shows! Cool to look at, they make me laugh, and they usually aren't so stupid I want to cry (see the later episodes of Fairly OddParents for that). Are there any cartoons out there that're free from the bullshit?

Saturday, November 28, 2009

Facebook Is Insensitive.

In other news, water- still wet. So I was bored and taking quizzes on Facebook, and one of them was "What's your mental disorder?" My result was OCD. This was the quiz result text:
"You are an extreme stickler for things. Things have to be just the way you want them to be, but you can’t help it, it is just your crazy coming through. You may be some neat freak, very repetitive, or maybe you just can’t help but pull out 12 hairs every time you hear a train. Whatever it is, people tend to mistake you for being crazy, but guess what, you kinda are. And another thing, the world is not gonna end if you lighten up a bit."

My thoughts? Okay... I'm pretty sure I'm not actually OCD. Just a tightly-wound control freak. (But hey, who isn't?) Also, from what I know of this disorder, OCD'ers do literally feel like "the world will end" or "something horrible will happen" if they don't follow through on their rituals. So, it's kinda flippant to say "lighten up, the world won't end". I'm sure they would if they could. And what's with the 'crazy'? That's not very nice.

Also, just because someone is a 'stickler' (who even says that anymore?), doesn't make them OCD.
So... how do real people with actual Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder feel about this quiz? I hear people making references to being "OCD" all the time, and it kinda bugs me. I feel like, for people who really have this disorder, that probably gets really old, really fast.
I hear "Oh, I'm just OCD!" by someone doing some random, overly neat or important-to-them little thing. I sometimes want to say, "No. You're not. You're neurotic, or perfectionist, or just plain weird. But arranging your hairclips by size doesn't mean you have a mental disorder. Shut up, already". I feel like it's up there with "That's so gay" as an annoying and inaccurate description of a vague negative that erases the people to whom it would actually apply. (Whew! That was a hell of a sentence!)

Of course, I'm talking out my ass here, so I'd welcome the thoughts or opinions of anyone out there who does actually have Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder.

Monday, November 23, 2009

The Four-Hours-O'Sleep Post- with PSA!

So I went to the Shakesville meet-up in Chicago yesterday. And do you know, it was a very long drive. I had such a good time, though; it was totally worth it. But Ferret had work this morning, so we had to drive back later that night. It was Not Fun. I don't recommend it.
But we had such a great time- putting faces to names, having good food and conversation, watching Giant Shark vs. Mega Octopus (no, really, I swear), and laughing so hard I almost fell over. Ferret wasn't really expecting to enjoy herself- she was all grouchy and sick and like "but I don't know anyone!" That all changed when some lurkers at our table broke out the Settlers of Catan game. She was all over that. Which made me happy that she was happy. So cute.

I also got to meet Melissa McEwan, who is possibly the coolest person in the universe. Srsly, you guys, I was having a ~gasp**squee!**~ moment. I won't say Shakesville "changed my life", because that reminds me of a commercial for a weight-loss product- don't ask me, I don't know. I will say it changed the way I thought and felt and articulated about so many things.
So many, people. And I am profoundly grateful to her for creating that place.

I talked to so many great people- everyone was so awesome. I yammered on for 6. Solid. Hours. I have spent so long here in the house alone, talking to no one but the cats, mostly, til Ferret gets home. And she's really not a chatty person. So I felt like a sponge, soaking in all this conversation. And I felt like a floodgate, letting out SO MANY thoughts and feelings and opinions and "Oh my Ceiling Cat this shit I read yesterday is so funny I jizzed. in. my pants" type moments. I just wish that I could have it more often without having to drive for several hours. But I am very grateful for yesterday. And I am so, so glad we did go. We almost didn't, but then we did. Yay!
And I am so, so very out of it right now. Exhaustion blogging, wooooo!

I also wanted to add a PSA:
For those people who are dating Twilight fans- If she tells you she wishes you were more like Edward Cullen, this does NOT mean you should stalk her or attempt to control her life. (Unless she specifically asks you to do those things. Then yeah, get freaky.) What she probably means by this request is that she wants you to adopt a stupid hairstyle and frequently spout cheesy lines about how she's the center of your universe and how life is meaningless without her. You may also need to get some body glitter. (Disclaimer: Even if you do these things, she's probably not going to jump off a cliff if you dump her.)
If she says she's a Jacob fan, this is NOT an invitation to sexually assault her. Even if she doesn't punch you for it, her dad will probably not congratulate you when she tells him about it. She may mean she wants you to turn into a giant wolf, which means you will need to have A Serious Talk about either her preferences or her connection to reality. Good luck with that.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Movie Review (with extra parentheses)!

So my Ferret and I were browsing the secondhand stores for movies (since The Fantastic Mr. Fox isn't out in our town yet), and we found a Stan Lee cartoon in the Anime section called Mosaic. I don't expect much out of Stan, but this was... ugh. Ferret perhaps has lower expectations than mine, because she liked it.

It's about a girl who wants to be an actress (of course) who lives with her obsessive Interpol agent dad (of course) in a New York townhouse (of course). She's blond (of course) and cute and perky (of course) and likes to inexplicably dance around in her skimpy pajamas before bed (of course) and gets her powers in a freak accident (this is Stan Lee, so of course).
I'ma make like the Count from Sesame Street here: "Seven! Seven trite tropes! Ah-ah-ah!" And that's just so far.
I won't even go into the inherent sexism, truly awful dialogue (maybe it works better on a comic book page), made-for-tv animation, and 1-dimensional characters.
Hell, I won't touch the 'heroine foils would-be rapists' scene that all superheroine movies apparently must include by law.

Ferret pointed out that I had chosen the movie in the first place. I replied that the basic premise- chameleon girl kicks ass- was kinda cool, but to win my praise requires at least some originality and technique. They put more effort into the box design than the damn movie.

I mean, good start. Girl superhero, great. So... couldn't they make her plain, an aspiring doctor, or at least brunette? Could they give Storm some company and make her a POC? Could they at least make the animation and voice work good enough (Fail, Anna Paquin) to make her a good actress? Painful. And hearing Stan yammer on about how girls can relate to this girl- cause she's pretty and fun!- made me less disposed to be impressed by it from the beginning. Having a vagina does not automatically mean you relate. You could have given her some kind of depth.

Afterward, we watched Aeon Flux. It may make an apt comparison to say that I found it to be intelligent, subversive, refreshing movie-manna for my cerebellum after the previous brain-numbing animated excretion.

So, uh, listen Stan. Dude, you're not even trying. Please to retire with your pile of money and just go sign autographs at ComicCons from now on, okay?

Sunday, November 1, 2009

And Stay Out!

So I am feeling cranky today. Having had a week of period-induced mood swings and being banned from the computer after I read the news on Shakesville and broke down sobbing, I was looking forward to some Halloween fun. And there was some fun- I got to tie-dye my underwear, and be a really cute Velma! (These two facts really aren't related.)
Ferret and I were looking forward to going to the Halloween party at Local Gay Bar, checking out costumes, having a drink, and watching the drag show. One of the performers is a friend of ours, and we always like seeing her work. Unfortunately, it turned out to be not so fun. It was so crowded the Fire Marshal would have fainted, and so full of cigarette smoke our eyes started to water as soon as we stepped in. But we were determined to have a good time. There were some great costumes, good performance, plus we paid the cover charge, dammit! I was hoping to stick it out to see the costume contest, but we finally gave up and headed out. As we fought our way out, we heard the emcee say, "How many lesbians we got up in here?" [cheer] "Now how many gay boys?" [cheer] "And where are the straight people?" [really loud cheer].

Yup. The straight people outnumbered the queers in the one gay bar in town. And maybe it's my hormones, but that really bugged me. I try, I really do, to be inclusive. And I want everyone to get along. And I feel kind of... mean saying this, but:

Dear Straight People: EVERY OTHER BAR IN TOWN is for you. But hey, thanks a bunch for crowding me and my partner out of the one club we feel comfortable in because you want a cheap thrill on Halloween. Hey, you know what? The drag performers don't just do this on Halloween. They do it all the time. It's their thing. You can come see it even when you aren't in a costume. You can come see it even if you're sober. Yeah. But you'd know that, if you weren't all jerks. By the way, fuck you.

See? That's mean, right? But it's how I feel. There're never that many straight people there on a regular night, and there definitely isn't that level of binge-drunk stupidity.
Maybe if it hadn't been so crowded as to be the opposite of fun I wouldn't be bitching so much. Maybe. Maybe if there was that kind of crowd, with that percentage of non-queers, all the time, it would be different. Maybe I wouldn't feel like my community was made into a tourist attraction for one night. Maybe I wouldn't feel like my space had been taken over and appropriated. Maybe if there was more of a visible gay community, I wouldn't feel like this place is really all we have. Maybe if, I reiterate, every other bar in town wasn't a "regular" (meaning "for straight people" bar), this wouldn't be a big deal for me. Maybe.

Great. I feel angry, and I feel like an exclusionary bigot at the same time.

Oh well, next weekend it'll be back to normal.

Happy Halloween.
(By the way, if I go into the grocery store tonight and hear a bunch of cross-wearing preppies talking excitedly about their "Sam-hane night ritual", you'll see me on the news. I'll be the one in handcuffs.)

I really have no patience with anyone, do I?

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Like A Bad Horror Movie

So, we have ladybugs! Did you know that they swarm? Did you know that one ladybug is significantly less intimidating than fifty? Now you know! And now I am sleeping in the living room! Yeah, as a Wiccan, I revere nature. I even like nature. But we get along better if nature stays outside. I feel like I am in a low-budget horror movie, called something like "The 5th Plague".

So I thought I would analyze the song "Dizz Knee Land" by Dada, because I love that song. And because I need something to keep me from FREAKING OUT.

It's catchy, harmonic pop and the lyrics feature the male lead singing about all the random things that he's done or had happen to him, and then he says, "now I'm going to Disneyland".

"I just robbed a grocery store, /now I'm going to Disneyland
I just flipped off President George /I'm going to Disneyland!"

The song is about the fact that no one ever really knows how their day is going to go, or what they're really going to do next. We think we've got everything planned, and the next thing you know, you're drunk and cuffed in the back of a cop car outside a liquor store in Pasadena because you randomly fired a gun you don't even own. None of us ever really know the answer to the phrase "So, what are you going to do now?"
Me, I haven't got a fuckin' clue. I'm aiming for "Try not to wake up with insects up my nose", but you never know.

Hell, we might as well all go to Disneyland.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

Tales of Child-Lemur Smartassery

When I was but a young Lemur, just rebelling against a world that didn't understand me, I decided not to say the pledge. Was forced to anyway, by locksteppin' teachers. So I came up with an alternative version. Hey, I said the pledge! You didn't say it had to be your pledge.

"I pledge allegiance to my ass;
and the united states of bullcrap.
And to the republic, of eggs and ham;
one nation, under Bob;
invisible, liver free, with jetpacks for all!"

If you have a rebellious child, you might teach hir this, as an example of civil disobedience. And then you might want to have a recording device ready so you can easily podcast the principal's reaction when zie calls you that same morning.

It's probably really hard to raise a socially conscious kid. Glad I can help!

Thursday, October 8, 2009

Kittens Have No Tact

So I had that song "Lights" by Journey stuck in my head yesterday and decided that singing it (while hanging clothes in my closet) would be the best remedy.
I got to the part where he goes way up and belts "It's sad, OH, there's been mornings out on the road without you /Without your charms".
I was fully into it, holding that last note rather spectacularly, when the kitten jumped up on the bed and stood on her hind legs to put her front paws on my chest. She then proceeded to stare intently and worriedly up at my face, where the strange noise was coming from. I was rather offended- I'm a trained karaoke diva!

The worst part- that song stayed in my brain for the next day and a half.
Stupid cat. What does she know about good music?

Monday, October 5, 2009

Good Dyke Porn Is Good

I was thinking of that timeless lyric: "Hey fellas (yeah?)/fellas (yeah?)/Grab your left nut and make your right one jealous/"... and decided it needs a lolcat response. And a porn review to go with it. So, here!

Ha! Yes doodz, you now have to grab your own harbls... er nuts.

(Wait, does that even make sense? More importantly, do I care about the sense it does[n't]make?)
It ties in, though: straight folks should be jealous, whether they have nuts or not. I'm not sure they can appreciate this porn of queer fabulousness.
Okay, so maybe watching this awesome porn has got me in a weird, funky, freaky-ass mood. One might even call me Supafly. Or not.

Really, though, how can you not love a porn called "Superfreak" that involves the horny ghost of Rick James (portrayed spifftastically by the director, who is in fact a lady)? Well, maybe you can resist. I couldn't.

Yes, I found some feminist, lesbian, not-for-het-dudes porn, and all I can say is... I'll be in my bunk. Oh, and Dylan Rion can jump my freaky bones any day.

What? I'm a kinky little sex-obsessed perv in my spare time. And by "spare", I mean "all the".

Friday, October 2, 2009

Brought To You By The Letter 'L'

I don't feel like posting anything political. There's a bunch of crap, and most of it is depressing. Go to Shakesville if you want intellectualism this week. I'm posting random shit for a little bit. Tomorrow, kitteh pictures.

Today, the word of the day is aposiopesis. So, yeah...


Thursday, October 1, 2009

Morning Breath

So this morning my grouchy Ferret was bitching about her new deodorant; apparently, it doesn't make her stink as nice as her old one. It's all boy-smell to me, but hey. She's bitch-and-moaning and I haven't had any coffee either.
"I don't like it", sounding like a two year old.
"Well, I didn't like choking on cock but I still gave head to guys for five years. Suck it up and deal with it!"

She stares at me for a sec and then goes to put on her shirt, muttering, "Not my fault you were a stubborn-ass bitch for five years."
I snark back "Yes it was!"
At which point she sputters for a few seconds and then gives up and puts her shoes on.

Aren't we charming in the morning?

Sunday, September 27, 2009

100% Customer Satisfaction

This has been going around the feminist tubes lately and was far too awesome-tastic not to re-post in its entirety. Hat tip to No, Not You.

Sexual Assault Prevention Tips Guaranteed to Work!

1. Don’t put drugs in people’s drinks in order to control their behavior.

2. When you see someone walking by themselves, leave them alone!

3. If you pull over to help someone with car problems, remember not to assault them!

4. NEVER open an unlocked door or window uninvited.

5. If you are in an elevator and someone else gets in, DON’T ASSAULT THEM!

6. Remember, people go to laundry to do their laundry, do not attempt to molest someone who is alone in a laundry room.

7. USE THE BUDDY SYSTEM! If you are not able to stop yourself from assaulting people, ask a friend to stay with you while you are in public.

8. Always be honest with people! Don’t pretend to be a caring friend in order to gain the trust of someone you want to assault. Consider telling them you plan to assault them. If you don’t communicate your intentions, the other person may take that as a sign that you do not plan to rape them.

9. Don’t forget: you can’t have sex with someone unless they are awake!

10. Carry a whistle! If you are worried you might assault someone “on accident” you can hand it to the person you are with, so they can blow it if you do.

And, ALWAYS REMEMBER: if you didn’t ask permission and then respect the answer the first time, you are commiting a crime- no matter how “into it” others appear to be.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Quote of the Evening

I haven't heard this one, but I'm already looking for a little piece of the internet on which I can plaster it as geek graffiti.

"Ignorance more frequently begets confidence than does knowledge: it is those who know little, and not those who know much, who so positively assert that this or that problem will never be solved by science.” -- Charles Darwin

I [heart] Darwin.

Monday, September 21, 2009


So at the risk of sounding like Lynn Truss (who I think is actually pretty cool), I'm going to rant about People Who Never Learned Manners With Technology. I'm not talking about trolls on the tubes here. Nooooo, that's another, long, rage- and frustrated bafflement-filled post.

I'm talking about people who can't own a cell phone and function in public. I'm not even going to waste time talking about people who talk on the phone while driving on the freeway (partially cause I've been guilty of that) or people who can't sit down to lunch without taking 15 different phone calls.

No. I'm going to bitch about people like the boss I had once, who on a 45 minute drive, spent 40 of those minutes on the phone with her boyfriend. While I was in the passenger seat. Not only do I consider it wildly rude to ignore the person sitting next to you with nothing to do, I had to listen to her side of the conversation the whole way, since I was stuck in the car. And believe me, I had no frickin' interest in their dinner plans for that night.

Or I could bitch about people who, when I worked at a video store, would come up to the counter- still on their cell phones- and not pay any attention to me as I attempted to complete their transaction. If I need to see your ID or a credit card, I shouldn't have to get your attention first. And then they acted like I was the rude one.

Or in the elevator. Or in line at the deli, so busy texting that the poor guy behind the counter has to get their attention not once, not twice, but four different times. Or standing in the middle of the aisle at the store, yakking away while their kids are throwing eggs at the ceiling or pulling the display racks over. Or that guy in the restaurant who talks about his bodily functions loud enough for everyone else to hear while they're eating? Hell, that coach at the Olympics who was on his Blackberry while his athlete won the silver in the pole vault, and then yelled at her? (Actually, that guy was just a jerk all around. But still.)

How do people not learn these rules? How does one fail to grasp that actual human interaction should take priority over that chuck of plastic and circuits in your hand?

I personally find it hilarious that as a fairly radical queer feminist who is also kind of socially awkward, I care more about being considerate and kind to other people than a lot of other folks who are more likely to be classed as 'respectable' or 'acceptable company'. I guess the logic of what is respect and what people should accept is too complex for my lady-brain.

Ah well, at least the Internet is still a bastion of civil and reasonable discourse. ...Hey, why are you laughing?

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Food(snob) Network

So I love Food Network, and I watch it all the time. Something they have done a lot lately is competitive cooking. Now this is not a new thing. People have had cooking contests for a long time. But now we are putting them on TV and raising the stakes and the standards. And this is not a bad thing in and of itself. I love me some Iron Chef America, although the sexism and racism I've noticed on the show is another post.

But watching this show, I realized something. Iron Chef, Top Chef, and Chopped all feature chefs making food I will have the chance to eat maybe a few times in my entire life, if ever. I am watching the judges critique this food and I'm thinking: I have no frame of reference. I have no idea what these judges are talking about when they praise the 'richness of the Wagyu beef' or the 'brightness of the carpaccio with lemongrass essence', because I have never tried these things.

They eat these dishes that we have just watched these chefs spend so much effort on, years of training and artisanship and sometimes hundreds of dollars worth of expensive food. It looks beautiful and exotic. The chef will talk to the camera about the thoughts they had making the food and why they think it will be delicious.

And then some (almost always white) people judge it. They dissect it- sometimes literally, and make faces about minor details and sometimes they will denigrate a chef for having bad taste, again literally.
As in, and I quote, "My problem is she actually thinks this a good dish." Well, I'm sorry this is such a problem for you, asshole.
I can't imagine a chef making a dish that they know is going to critiqued, testing it, and going "Yeah, that sucks. Let's see if they like it!"

I guess I have a problem with these over-educated-palate-having judges eating this beautiful, painstakingly made food that most people will never get a chance to try... and then picking it apart. I suppose that's the idea of judging the food, but to me it speaks of incredible privilege. As though someone were to do my laundry for me, and I complain that they folded the towels wrong.
I'd like to see them have people judging the food who aren't celebrities or famous foodies.

I will be the first to volunteer.

Saturday, September 19, 2009


So there're lots of things to be cranky about- our lack of cashy goodness, the elitism in Food Network shows, and sexism all the hell over the place.

But today was a good day, and sometimes it helps when I am reminded that not everyone is awful.
Today's case in point: my Ferret. Her birthday is this week, and to celebrate, we went to see "9" (pretty good, by the way) and then wandered over to an arcade. I am not really big on arcades, but since this was her birthday, I smiled and went along. She got a bunch of tokens, had fun playing games, and got a big ol' fistful of tickets.

When the last token was gone, I assumed she was going to go up to the counter and choose some random toy with her winnings. (And annoy me with it all night somehow, because deep down she is six years old.)

And then she told me what she usually does at arcades, and I found myself grinning like a kid.

A minute later, she'd found the youngest kid in the arcade (two little girls about 10 years old) and dropped her pile of tickets on the counter in front of them. We left to the sound of "Thank you! Thank you!!" and joy-squealing.

Sometimes, a little thing is all you need to remember that there are good things in the world. And if I ever doubted it, today would make me absolutely certain that I am marrying the right person.

My Ferret. The BoyScout. My knight in shining armor who spends her spare time rescuing anybody who might need it.

Plus, now she knows I will be much more amenable when she asks to go play arcade games.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

No, It's Still Not Okay To Say

So today, I am going where I haven't gone yet. I have been reluctant to discuss any issues of race/racism, because I feel I don't know enough about it to make statements. Also, because I have a lot of privilege, and I know it, and am trying to deal with it.

But apparently there's still people who think that because slavery was abolished, we no longer have a social debt to the oppressed and can say anything with no baggage attached.
I can't believe Renee has to make a post about this, because it's one of those things that people should just know. One of those mostly-unspoken social rules, like "Don't punch someone because they won't give you a cookie", and "Don't pee on the sidewalk".
Kanye West did a really rude and uncouth thing, and there's a lot wrong with it. It makes him anasshat. It doesn't make him a n****r. Hey, folks? It's not okay to say the word nigger. (And that's the only time I'm typing it out.) It's just not. Especially not if you're white. I think even if you're a POC, it's not a nice word. But if you're white, can you stop? I hear too many people say this to justify it: "There's a difference between black people and n*****s".

Super. I'd like to see the mathematical equation you've worked out for determining which dark-skinned person deserves which label. Oh, you don't have one and your basis for identification is whether you disapprove of how [x] POC looked or behaved? Why not the phases of the moon? Or the Homeland Security Alert color code? It'd be more consistent.

For those who don't understand the myriad of things wrong with it to begin with, try remembering this before you blithely spout that "disclaimer": for a long time, there was no "difference". All POCs used to be "n*****s". And for some people, even today, that is still true. Yeah, crazy, right? Racism still exists! Oh em gee! So saying that word makes you sound bigoted, ignorant, and mean. It's not okay to call anyone this. It strips them of their humanity.
Did you know? The War Between the States is over.
I can't believe I have to say these things. In small syllables. For the people out there who live in the 1950s. Really, I personally would like to see this word fucking retired. And I bet I'm not the only one, fancy that!
I have gotten one member of my family to stop saying this. I'm working on a few others. And now hopefully, I'm working on some of you, reading this blog (although I'm pretty sure if you read this blog, most of you already get this).
If some dude cuts you off in traffic, and he happens to be a black dude, it is ok to call him a jerk, asshole, or douchebag. (Road rage, me? Never. Ahem.) It's not ok to call him 'the n-word'. If you can't think of a better insult, let me help you.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Death Panel For Teeth

So we are having a bad month here at Casa Lemur-Ferret. My poor Ferret has apparently neglected her flossing. And also her sacrifices to the gods of Teeth and Health Care.
We've been told she has some fairly heinous stuff going on in her mouth- terms like "root canal" and "extraction" were tossed around. Shit, I want a Vicodin just thinking about it.

She woke up feeling like she'd brushed her teeth with battery acid and hot barbed wire, so we went to the local dentist, where we spent 3 hours sitting around, filling out forms, and in Ferret's case being probed and ending up 2 hours late to work.
And at the end of this delightful outing was the educational part. I learned that if one does not, as I previously did, have the privilege of being insured, then dental work costs one, as Bradley Nowell once so poetically wrote, "un chingo de dinero". (Yes, I did just bend over backward to work in a Sublime reference. There're worse crimes.)

Does dental care really have to be this expensive? Do enamel, root canals, and WaterPiks require this much overhead? I really don't know. I don't have a reason to care, unless I suddenly remember where I misplaced that extra several thousand dollars.

Our other choice is to call in a same-day-only appointment, radio-contest style, to the county dental clinic. The care is much less expensive, but they open at 8 and are booked by 8:30. And they aren't open on weekends, which seems like poor planning to me- most of their patients would be working, yes? So why close on the days people are most likely to be off?
The sad thing is I do realize we're lucky to have that option at all. If we were in a more rural area, I doubt we'd have any other choice than to pay the huge costs of "normal" dental offices. And if there was no way we could afford that, at all? (Which really, we could not have. Just so you know.) Then what? Live with the pain? Grab some pliers and fix it ourselves? The fuck is this, medieval Europe? Are people going to start dying from an abscessed tooth because they can't afford to fix it?

And people are arguing against the government somehow getting everyone decent healthcare. WHY? Gods, why? I would give almost anything to not have to worry what will happen if she or I get really sick or hurt. I know it's crazy but I'd like to be able to go to the eye doctor without saving for 8 months, or the dentist without having to sell a kidney.

Thing is, I'm freaking out on behalf of my Ferret, who with a little luck just has to last the next few days, and we have some painkillers, thank Gaia- or else she couldn't manage to eat.

What happens to people who don't luck into county resources? They pay $300 a month for 36 months- or...? Or what? Or what??

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

From the Facebook Files

My friend said:

'The Vatican issues a prayer for Catholics to say before sex. Apparently shouting, "Oh God" at the end of sex isn't enough.'

September 2 at 10:32am · ·


Ooh, I know this one:
"Please god, forgive me for having sex with another willing adult and not letting the religious shame propagated by bitter celibate old white guys get the best of me. I know that God's plan does not involve humans having enjoyment not approved by aforementioned bitter old dudes. My bad. Amen."

That's it, right? I amaze me sometimes; it's like I'm psychic! LOL

What can I say? It was a really good moment. Also, I was funny. Go me.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Lady-parts Surcharge

So I finally have teh Intarwebz in my house now! Hooray! I don't have to spend hours on end at the library. Not that the library is so bad, but you can't do No-Pants Tuesday Blogging there. They get really uptight about not wearing pants in the library.

But that's not what this is about. This is about my thoughts on auto mechanics. My brother-in-law is young and not always very bright, and in a move of stunning brilliance, he put diesel in my emphatically non-diesel-drinking gas tank. My reaction to that was almost reality-show worthy, lemme tell ya. I love my car, like really. love. my car. I panic whenever anything happens to it.
So I finally gave up on draining the tank at home and decided to take it to a mechanic. I picked some local numbers and started dialing. 3 mechanics told me 3 to 4 hundred dollars, which gee, just didn't sound right. One of them tried to tell me I "needed" a new fuel pump. Yeah, I didn't. Finally I got one guy to give me an estimate that wasn't off the charts, and the day ended happily.

But when I talked to my Ferret, I found myself wondering out loud if maybe these auto shops tack on a "vagina charge" of a couple hundred dollars when they talk to a woman on the phone. Cause, obviously, if a lady calls and doesn't have a man to do the work or at least make the call for her, she must be desperate. And have no way of knowing what auto work is supposed to cost! Or know anything about cars! Hey guys, we can charge this chick A THOUSAND DOLLARS AND THERE'S NOTHING SHE *slap*

Sorry. Uh. Yeah. So my point is, do they do that? Or do mechanic prices really vary that much? Shouldn't there be some kind of guide for people who don't know what work should cost, like the Kelly Blue Book for car repair? Tell you what- first person to create that website, gimme 10 percent of the net and we'll call it good. We could make a fortune!
...No, you can't talk to my husband about it.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Women Die, It's All Their Fault

So last night watching the news- with my mom, no less- I heard about the shooting at the gym in Collier county. Some nut opened fire on a bunch of women, posted about it in his blog for months beforehand, and I bet the media/cops will talk about how 'he was a nice clean-cut quiet guy' and 'nobody could have predicted this'.

And, I'm sure, something about how women rejecting him is the cause of all this. When has it become okay to kill someone because they won't date you? When the fuck has rejection become a normal cause for homicide, and has it always been the woman's fault?

If a woman were to do this, the media would be all over her, talking about how crazy she was. If a man does it, the read-between-the-lines consensus seems to be, "the women should have known he'd become violent, what with all those rejections, and thusly should have gone out with him so he wouldn't kill them."

I don't suppose it's worth it to point out that lots of people can't get a date/have a good relationship, and somehow they manage not to murder anyone.

I don't know. I really don't have any good words about this. I'm angry, and scared. Maybe all those shut-ins living on the Net have the right idea. Stay home, and your chances of being randomly killed by some misogynist bastard drop drastically.

I'll be in my bed, hiding under the covers. Yeah, that seems really good right now.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009


So Obama said this:

"As you know, I'm pro choice. But I think we also have a tradition of, in this town, historically, of not financing abortions as part of government funded health care."

Blogger RMJ, from Deeply Problematic, says this in reply:

"I have a tradition myself. It's a tradition of not being pregnant. I expect [Obama's] support on that. That's just how things work in the town of my uterus."

Yeah, Obama, you're sounding a little Bush-tastic these days. Please to stop being wimpy and use your powers for good instead of the same old stinky evil.

I will now be using "the town of my uterus" in a conversation as soon as I can. Also, "loinfruit". (It's a contraction of the phrase 'the fruit of my loins'- don't ask. Plus, it's a great name for a rock band!)

Go read her stuff, call out Obama, oh and maybe try to use the word loinfruit today, to see if it amuses you too!

Thursday, July 23, 2009

The Worst Blog Post Evar

That award goes to: This guy, who thinks rape is funny. BIG trigger warning.
But if anyone else would like to go and comment to the effect that the guy's a douche, that'd be great.

Because I almost blew out my Obstreporal Lobe reading that shit.

WHAT is WRONG with some of these people?

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Language Is Never Innocent; Also, Much Capitalization!

So I am one of those ladies who is Friends With My Ex. I seem to notice ladies want to stay friends with their exes more often. Guys tend to avoid exes (when they don't hate them entirely). I'm not sure why- maybe it's because women are encouraged to be introspective and sort out the feelings of "You're Not A Bad Guy And I Like Spending Time With You" from the knowledge that "We Have Issues That Make Dating A Not-Fun Idea". Guys (she says, generalizing away) seem to not be trained to compartmentalize relationships like that. If a woman isn't romantically interested in them [anymore], it's a Total Rejection of his Entire Being. Yada yadda. I have a few ex-boyfriends who got over that and with whom I'm still friendly. And one of the reasons I ended it was because of his amused dismissal of my (highly feminist) worldview. It makes for some interesting discussions, which is what this post is actually about.

My ex-now-friend, referred to as S, thinks of himself as a stand-up guy (don't they all). His actions are (usually) benevolent; if you go by the rule that says Actions are More Important than Words, he's right.
What if you think that the things you say are maybe even more important, because they are the things you're thinking?
He accuses me of being "too PC". He makes racist jokes, and then points out that he has "Black Friends who think [those jokes] are funny as hell". He refers to women as "bitches", and then claims he respects women (because he's not saying it in a mean way, don'tchaknow!). This is the same guy who once called me "easy".
He's an able-bodied, hertero white cis male who *will not* acknowledge his privelege in any way. Every time we have a discussion about feminism/racism, I end up frustrated. Because eventually the subject gets around to language, and his total misunderstanding of The Way Language Works. His claim is that "words don't have power unless we (personally) give them power. If we treat certain words as taboo, that only gives them more power." He's like Randal from Clerks 2, wearing a shirt with "Porch Monkey" on the back with the claim that he's "taking [the phrase] back." At which point Dante loses it and tells him that that's incredibly racist and he can't "take back" a phrase referring to black people if he's not black!
I outlined this comparison to S, who came down on Randal's side. Sheesh.
His idea is that if he personally treats a normally taboo word as if it has no power, eventually other people will pick up on this and do the same, and in time, racial and other slurs will lose their ability to wound. It's a nice idea. It's my opinion that it's also totally unrealistic to think that one, non-famous, whitemaledude has that much influence over how minority slurs are heard. In the meantime, it's also a really good excuse for using those words without thinking about them, or apologizing.

Am I right, or does he have a point? What's an Angry FeministTM to say?

Monday, July 6, 2009

(Aborted) Children of the Corn

So my Ferret and I were taking a road trip yesterday through the lovely central MidWest. And it was scary. No, seriously, I was freaked. Not just because I now have a better understanding of the phrase "the middle of nowhere" than I have ever had before. Not just because I saw a sign advertising a tree and landscape company whose motto apparently is "We eat trees... they taste like chicken". (True story.)

It's because I also got the chance to see something I never even imagined: Anti-choice billboards in cornfields. Yeah. Farmer Brown's doing his part to Save teh Baybeez. I counted 4 on a 3-hour trip. The first time I saw one, my reaction was "Did that say what I think it fucking did?!"

I asked my Ferret not to route us on that particular highway anymore, although it is one of the more direct routes to [Large City], because every time I saw a sign in a field like "Abortion kills a baby every 24 seconds", or "It's not a choice, it's a child", I felt like I'd been slapped.

And I wondered, how must a woman who has had an abortion feel, driving past these awful things? What kind of person puts or allows someone to put that on their property? Why that issue? Why that sentiment, when there are so many other things for your field to say?
I mean, I can get behind "Support Our Troops", "Buy Local Produce", "Join AAA". I'd applaud "Eat at Joe's". But "don't kill your baby, you slutty evil female" just doesn't have the same ring to it.

I'd never seen anything like these billboards before. I don't understand it, and I almost couldn't believe it. And I was shocked, and sad, and upset, and mostly? I was pissed. Really pissed. Royally fucking pissed. I wished I could've stopped and bought spray paint because that is a vile thing to inflict on a driving feminist.

Some days, I want to get the fuck out of the Midwest, no matter how pretty the trees are in the fall. I want to go back to South Florida. Yesterday was one of those days. It really was.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Comedy Fail

Ok, so I realize that to many people this statement is blasphemy, but: What the hell makes George Carlin so great?

I was listening to Napalm and Silly Putty in my car (yes, I listen to books in my car, I'm a geek), and I was struck by how some of his material is, yeah, really funny. But the rest of it? Incredibly cynical and mean. I'm sorry, but we seriously have enough people who think it's cool to be mean and cruel and not give a shit about other people. We have enough people who think it's funny, or laudable, or shows how 'edgy' you are. "I don't give a shit about nothin'!"
And Mr. Carlin was apparently one of those people.

I was listening to the bit where he's ranting about how he loves to watch bad things happen on the news because it entertains him. Explosions, war, death- better than cartoons, apparently. What the hell? Seriously, how did we come to this point? A guy talks about his extreme levels of schadenfreude like it's an admirable trait and we think it's funny?
When the hell did empathy go out of style? When did cruelty become the new thing? Where was I?

Hell, did I miss the point or something, overlook the exquisite irony of his semi-sociopathic raving? I know the man had legions of fans for most of his career, and maybe I'm a Humorless Feminist tm, but I can't really figure out why. Maybe I just don't see the humor in black humor. Sorry.
But really...

[EDIT:] In comments, PhysioProf mentions that George- to his knowledge- was not an asshole, and his rants were indeed sarcastic. I guess then that my problem with Carlin's rants is the same problem that befell Dave Chappelle- there are people who watch you say these things, and they are not smart enough to understand your true meaning. They're dumb enough or bigoted enough to take it at face value, and they use a famous person's distorted ideas to justify their own brand of bullshit. Honestly, a lot of the time I couldn't tell if he was serious or not. So that, then, is my problem with that. Not George himself. Sorry George.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Very Very Random

So I have been off!, adjusting, doing things. Being a pain in the ass, which is like a full time job for me. And stressing. Stressing so much that the muscles in my back are constantly a-twitch with tenseness (that's a bad thing, right?).

I moved across town and enjoy the downtown historical area I now live in. I do not enjoy: having no shower, only a tub. Also: moving big furniture up 2 flights of stairs: NOT FUN. Just in case you are contemplating doing something like that? Don't.
The kittehs are thrilled with the long hallway down which they chase toys (usually jingly balls, at 3 am). I am not thrilled with the carpet in the kitchen (really, don't ask). I do like the window that leads directly out onto the roof. Kittehs not so much- they're miffed that they don't get to go out there and play. They like to wrestle with Ferret and nom her hands. They do not nom my hands. I don't know whether to be offended or just grateful. They are growing, slowly- still small and cute! Nomad likes to strut and display her adorable stub-tail and have it petted. Chaos will occasionally deign to go near me. (Chaos requires extra patience. Of course.) I may get off my ass and post more kitteh pixx in the near future.

I am sorry that I have been reading the Internets but not writing it. Sigh. So sad. I have been reading Tiger Beatdown, because Sady rocks, and reading Shakesville, and feeling bad that Melissa is (it seems to me) too nice to chuck metaphorical heavy objects at people who obviously suck, and these people are on her blog, making her sad.

I have been reading amusing things- A Hilarious Post I found through Shakesville that had me giggling in the library.

I have been playing with useful things- have you heard of It is a site that searches libraries. All of them. Everywhere. For whatever book/movie/etc. your twisted little heart desires. How you are to actually get them is your problem, but it does find them.

I have found a blog called Illustrocity with sexy sexy drawings- you should view them. And heap praise on their creator. If I had a working printer I'd print them out and have a fun night with my paints- it's Coloring For Grown-Ups.

That is all I can think of for now. I just wanted to make sure you all know (all 4 of you) that the rumors of my death were highly exaggerated.

Thursday, May 28, 2009

On Weddings

So I've been thinking a lot about weddings lately, partly as a way of avoiding thinking about marriage. When I think about marriage I not only have that nervous fear of "can I handle my lover's dirty socks for the rest of our lives?" but also anger at things like power of attorney, insurance coverage, and taxes. So why then would I be thinking about marriage? I'm unmellow enough as it is, yeah?

Because, finally, my ever-fabulous Ferret and I have decided on a date for our wedding. It's months away and it's driving me crazy already. I'm thinking about flowers and food and guests and budgets. I'm rolling my eyes at my own descent into madness: as I make lists and consider aesthetics, I'm a stressed-out combination of classic femme and professional organizer (which is what I am, after all).

I've been not-so-jokingly saying we should elope- weddings are a waste of time and money, they're heterosexist and patriarchal, and who the hell needs to deal with seating arrangements and froufrou when all you really want is a party, followed by a vacation (and at some point in there, lots of sex).

My Ferret changed my mind when I asked her in all seriousness why we didn't just do it and save time, money and stress. She simply replied, "I love you. I want to be with you for always, and I want the world to know it."
And I realized: I want that too.
…I hate when she's right. Damn crafty ferret logic.

That is it: the real and necessary reason behind the ceremony and celebration. All that fuss, all the energy expended and arrangements made and time and money spent and relatives gathered; it's because this is an important moment. I know lots of people still think of this as a coming-of-age rite. I have my doubts about that, knowing lots of single grownups and immature married folks. But either way, committing to the person you want to spend the rest of your life with is a big deal. And all the hoopla is there to tell you and the world that this is important. You've found your love, your life, your partner, and it matters. At least that's how it seems to me.

So when people are less than enthused when I announce my upcoming nuptials, it's hard not to take it personally. My father still hasn't said anything to me at all yet- I thought "congratulations" at least should be a no-brainer. My mother is the one who told me she wasn't sure my father would want to walk me down the aisle.
I have no intention of being "given away"- I'm not a possession, and getting married makes me no less my own person. But it feels like I am blazing a new path here, and I'd like to be able to cling to some traditions as familiar landmarks. (Hey, some we're losing. Fuck that toss-the-bouquet nonsense.)
But to hear that my own father doesn't want to participate in one of the more significant events in his daughter's life; to hear, as I do in my mother's voice, that my parents don't share in my excitement and happiness- it makes me wonder. It makes me reconsider the whole thing. I do have a good relationship with my parents and thought they were used to the idea that their one and only girlchild wasn't going to make that walk with a dude. Now I'm not so sure.

If they can't share in this with me and be as happy about my wedding as they are about, say, my brother's, then what is the point?

…having just typed that, I know that I am lucky that my parents didn't disown, assault, or evict me when they found out (which makes me angry that that happens at all), but that doesn't mean I feel any better about what I perceive as their rejection of the validity of my relationship.

And then I think, fuck 'em. The people who really love me and Ferret for who we are, all we are, will be behind us. We have people who will share this with us. If anybody "isn't comfortable" with us (have you noticed that usually means "I'm homophobic but won't admit it"?), then they can stay away. More cake for the rest of us. I want no one at my wedding who is not a true friend.

Okay, I'm done ranting for now- I have to go look at lacy things and flowers on

Friday, May 8, 2009

Newspapers: Hey, We Eradicated Rape!

So I was reading this blog post of Cara's about a woman who was murdered, and also this [trigger warning] disgusting story from Shakesville, and I can't help but notice something.
It's kind of scary how I never see the word "rape" in newspapers anymore, even when it's the kind of "extreme" rape that not even MRAs can argue with. What's with the self-censorship of newspapers on just this word? They're supposed to keep us informed- that is, tell the truth objectively. What the fuck is this bullshit then?

I'm wondering if there's a protest group or something I can join, just to stop newspapers confusing 'rape' and 'sex'. How many letters and emails and phone calls will it take?

You know what's fucked up? I hear people all the time saying women get confused about 'what is rape and what is sex' (IE, "buyer's remorse" and oh how I hate that fucking term when it's applied to this), but these newspapers seem way more 'confused' than any woman I ever heard of.
What is so hard about the concept: "consent should be informed, enthusiastic, and oh yeah, conscious"?
It's a big freakin' difference, journalists. It's not a fine line, okay? It's a big fat glow-in-the-dark line!

But everyone seems to be telling us there isn't one. Including the newspapers.

Rape isn't sex. Rape isn't sexy. Please don't use it for titillation value in your articles. Treat it as the violent and fucked-up crime that it is.
See, look: "Couple has sex on street corner as performance art" is fine. "Man has sex with unconscious woman" is so far from fine it's in a different country. The difference is not hard to learn. And it's not a minor issue. It affects how everyone thinks of sex and rape.

To all newspapers everywhere: Stop. Doing this. To us.

h/t Cara and Liss

Thursday, April 30, 2009

Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

That is what I have been having. For like, the last three days.
All the little things are going wrong, and a few medium-large things too. Oh and also, I'm having extra fun with PMS! Hooray for moodiness and back pain! I mean, fuck. It feels like everything I do is bound to go wrong, somehow. I'm afraid to drive because this feels like my week for being hit by a car (even though that already happened last week!). It's just been that kind of thing lately.
It leaves me in no mood to blog, be cheerful, be motivated, be businesslike, cook, clean, leave the house...
Actually it leaves me in no mood to do anything but lay on the couch with homemade chocolate-chip cookies and watch Monty Python.

Yes, I am now officially twelve years old. I'm pouting. I don't care.

Look for me to come out of my blue funk in like a week.
Til then, eh.

Monday, April 27, 2009

Bad Lemur, No Cookie

So I have been a domestic Lemur of late, and also contemplating my Ferret's possible promotion (we would have to move! It's exciting! And scary! And frustrating! Yeeeee!). I am anxious and must blog about a vague triviality now, even though I could be blogging about Sady's Because-Um Girl (Sady is my hero and I would do her taxes for free [were I capable of doing taxes]), or James Bond movie misogyny, or the fact that there are people in this country who are apparently not aware of the existence of lesbians.
I like the Bloodhound Gang.
...I know. Put me in Feminist Jail now.

Maybe I'm just trying to make excuses, but they do seem to be offensive in the best way. As in, they make fun of everything and everyone, including themselves. Their mockery isn't just limited to minorities/the powerless, and they seem to go to such an extreme that unlike a Judd Apatow movie *shudder*, there doesn't seem to be much of a risk of anyone taking their "message" seriously. (I'm pretty sure their overall message is: "ha ha, we are a bunch of dorky white boys who get paid to be gross and make cultural and meta references!")
Thing is, I can see a guy doing something misogynist and then referring to a Judd movie to excuse it. I can't see a guy doing something icky and then saying 'I got the idea from the Bloodhound Gang!", because the response he is most likely to get involves a long, disbelieving stare and then the immediate bestowal of The Dumbass of the Year Award.
Then again, I would not have believed people would do the shit they saw on 'Jackass', either. Maybe it's something in the water in this country.
Or maybe I'm just starved for catchy music with clever pop-culture references that doesn't take itself seriously. I can't escape the fact that they're foul. And misogynist. And have gotten less funny over the years.
...Oh damn, I just rationalized myself into a corner.

Well, there's always tomorrow.