Screaming Lemur: Femme-inism and Other Things

Dear Levi's: You Suck

2009-12-09T16:26:00.002-06:00

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?

FUCK. YOU.

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.

Art Is A Hammer

2009-12-04T00:32:00.002-06:00

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.

Life Is Pain, People

2009-12-01T19:55:00.003-06:00

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.

I Watch TV

2009-11-30T12:26:00.000-06:00

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?

Facebook Is Insensitive.

2009-11-28T22:23:00.003-06:00

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.

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

2009-11-23T10:27:00.004-06:00

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.

Movie Review (with extra parentheses)!

2009-11-15T22:56:00.004-06:00

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?

Please?

And Stay Out!

2009-11-01T13:15:00.004-06:00

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?

Like A Bad Horror Movie

2009-10-20T17:45:00.006-05:00

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.

Tales of Child-Lemur Smartassery

2009-10-10T13:44:00.002-05:00

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!

Kittens Have No Tact

2009-10-08T18:09:00.005-05:00

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?

Good Dyke Porn Is Good

2009-10-05T00:33:00.005-05:00

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".

Glad I could share that with you all.

Brought To You By The Letter 'L'

2009-10-02T11:21:00.003-05:00

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...

Discuss!

Morning Breath

2009-10-01T10:56:00.004-05:00

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?

100% Customer Satisfaction

2009-09-27T15:20:00.000-05:00

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.

Quote of the Evening

2009-09-23T22:36:00.003-05:00

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.

Via comments at Shakesville.

Techno-Bitchy

2009-09-21T11:09:00.003-05:00

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?

Food(snob) Network

2009-09-20T11:15:00.000-05:00

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.

Anti-Cynicism

2009-09-19T21:42:00.006-05:00

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.

No, It's Still Not Okay To Say

2009-09-16T14:05:00.005-05:00

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.

Death Panel For Teeth

2009-09-12T00:47:00.003-05:00

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??

From the Facebook Files

2009-09-09T17:34:00.003-05:00

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.'

Lady-parts Surcharge

2009-09-02T21:23:00.004-05:00

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.

Women Die, It's All Their Fault

2009-08-05T12:40:00.005-05:00

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.

Shakesville has a more coherent rundown.

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

O RLY?

2009-08-04T01:20:00.005-05:00

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!

The Worst Blog Post Evar

2009-07-23T15:04:00.002-05:00

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?

Language Is Never Innocent; Also, Much Capitalization!

2009-07-22T16:10:00.003-05:00

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 Feminist^TM to say?

(Aborted) Children of the Corn

2009-07-06T18:20:00.003-05:00

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.

Comedy Fail

2009-06-24T18:36:00.004-05:00

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.

Very Very Random

2009-06-11T17:51:00.005-05:00

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 Worldcat.org? 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.

On Weddings

2009-05-28T12:26:00.005-05:00

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 theknot.com.

Newspapers: Hey, We Eradicated Rape!

2009-05-08T10:19:00.003-05:00

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

Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

2009-04-30T17:56:00.003-05:00

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.

Bad Lemur, No Cookie

2009-04-27T18:29:00.003-05:00

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.
...Fuck.

Well, there's always tomorrow.

Ink Link

2009-04-21T12:12:00.005-05:00

So this is my tattoo. It's my first tattoo ever. I decided to make my personal political and get a femme spiral on my shoulder. I then decided to treat you to an extreme closeup of it. Yay!

It is indeed a vine. Points for noticing that. It symbolizes my religion, and also, yes, my incredible pretensiousness.

It's very new in this picture, which explains the shiny tat goo all over it.

And oh yeah, please ignore the fact that I am very extemely pale. I am Whitey McNoTan von Needstoseethesunmore.

...My very first ink! Squee!

...And here is a kitteh picture, as requested by PhysioProf. And as a refreshing change from me and my epidermis.

Chaos and Nomad are conquering the laundry basket. For strategic nap purposes.

Revaluing Beauty

2009-04-20T17:03:00.003-05:00

So I was thinking about a comment the lovely SublimeFemme left on my Femmethology post. She said "...Femme revalues beauty and pleasure in a world that largely devalues these things."
This confused me for a sec. If you look, it seems like there is more importance placed on these things than ever. Women, especially, must be beautiful and give pleasure. We have become entitled and spoiled, materialistic consumer-types. Things must "look good" and "feel good" to everyone, otherwise it's not fuckin worth it, amirite? Rockstar and Grandtheftauto for all!
Oh, wait...
Perhaps she was talking about a different kind of value on beauty and pleasure. Maybe she meant taking pleasure in things that don't necessarily harm others. Maybe she meant taking pleasure in beauty that is not self-destructive. Maybe she meant beauty and pleasure that is subjective, and not mandated.
What an astonishing idea!
I think we femmes reject a lot of the patriarchal ideals of suffering for beauty. I know I do. But I also know that I feel a great, slightly guilty pleasure at smooth sheets or new perfume. [Insert your shock at my shameful sybaritism here!]
I feel good when I have a good hair day. (Do I give a shit when I have a bad one? Not really. And that might be an important difference.)
Appreciating beauty when it comes your way is not the same as assuming you're entitled to it all the time. Appreciating sensual pleasures- hot showers, chocolate coffee, orgasms- is not the same as demanding that everything be for your amusement and benefit.

I thing society devalues certain types of beauty and pleasure for men. And I think men have a hard time with that. If a man publicly states that he enjoys a subtle tea blend instead of Redbull(shit), if he buys high thread count sheets, if he takes a moment to look at a damn rainbow, he is mocked by his peers. For a man to enjoy these sensual pleasures makes him womanly and weak (which are synonymous! of course!), as anything identified as "womanly" is inherently less valuable in our society. Men are only supposed to take pleasure in violent or unhealthy things! Like doublebacon cheeseburgers, and makin too much money, and six-packs, and fuckin' drunk chicks, or fightin'!
Rainbows and chocolate and dewy skin are out, boys; sorry.
This is just one of the aspects of "things-perceived-as-'woman territory'-being-devalued-just-because": think about all the jobs, literature, other stuff done mostly by women that is being dismissed as 'unimportant'.
And that is sad. Because these types of little, physical or emotional pleasures are part of what keeps us going in life, I think. We don't get a lot of "big" happy moments in life, and appreciating the little ones is what helps us deal with the bad stuff. If guys aren't allowed to do that, or are only allowed to enjoy "certain types" of pleasures that are often not good for them (or other people), then... well, then life just sucks, I think. It makes life harder for everyone.
We should revalue these things, for everyone. I hope we do.
To ladies, dudes, femmes, butches, and everyone everywhere: go appreciate something pretty. Seriously. Go do something that makes you feel good.
(...No, not that. Something else!)

(Tip o' the hat to the fabulous SF)

Your PC Fail

2009-04-11T14:32:00.003-05:00

Here at Things That Piss Me Off dot com, I just thought I'd bitch about people who bitch about "PC".
"The thought police blah blah"!
"You're being oversensitive bark bark bark"
"I'm un-PC so I'm edgy and cool zzzz my penis zzzz zzzz"

These people are assholes. There's really no other conclusion to be reached. When they bitch about people "restricting" the language they can use, they're basically just saying, "But what about MY right to be an asshole?! What about MEEEEEE??!1!"
Because apparently their right to say dumb, rude, unconstructive bullshit is more important than not making someone else feel bad. If they can't say shit like "you're my bitch", "that's so gay", and "you're retarded", the world will end because someone tried to tell them they were being arrogant and mean.

Also, it made me very sad that I had a conversation with my ex yesterday wherein I had to explain that "donkeypunch" is not funny. Ever. Same goes for 'the Houdini'. If you think it is funny, you're a douchebag. The end.

To sum up: If you think that your privelege to say whatever you want, no matter how racist/sexist/homophobic/etc it is, is more important than the feelings of actual people... YOU. ARE. A. BAD. PERSON. No really, you are. Please fuck off and die now.

Femme Is A Gift: Hedonism, Choices and Subversion

2009-04-10T11:33:00.002-05:00

So I'm supposed to be writing for the Femmethology tour. Visible: A Femmethology is a sigh-of-happiness book- it's always a relief to me to read the stories and experiences of other femmes. They asked me to participate. Didn't give me any limits or anything. Very cool, right?

...And I have no idea what to write. The pressure, the pressure! Am I supposed to be witty? Intellectual? Original? Yeah, right. Me?

So I decided that I would do my favorite thing, which is to ask questions that may or may not have an answer.

How do I talk about femme as a shared experience, discuss it in a way that is meaningful? And my everfabulous Ferret had a good starting place. "Being femme means paying more attention to culture, to the world around you."

I wasn't sure I liked that. Doesn't that mean conformity? Some people would see it as a weakness, that paying attention to them means they tell you what to do.

"Awareness doesn't always equal conformity. Don't you say, know the rules so you can break them?"

Well, yes, but that's because I'm intrinsically diabolical. But she had a point.

I think we do discard a lot of society's mandates in our effort not to be this Neo-June Cleaver, vacuuming the house in pearls and putting pies in the oven. I think for a lot of people femme conjurs up this vision of a lesbian housewife in lipstick and Laura Ashley, and for some femmes that's true, and they're happy that way.

Most of us are feminists, and maybe it's not just me who has trouble reconciling femme, with its traditional-feminine overtones, with being at least somewhat subversive. We are subversive; unique, I think, simply by existing. Lesbians! Without bad haircuts and flannel! What will society do?!

So why do we do it? What makes us unique? My butch has the answer, again: "Femmes give us butches the femme side of them; you give it like a gift. If I demanded it of you, being feminine, all that- I'd never get it."

And she went on (I'm paraphrasing here): It doesn't mean we aren't subversive, or that we're falling into the usual cultural mandates; it just means we're more selective about who we give us to, about who we care for, and how we do it.

It also doesn't mean that we can't take care of ourselves. We can hang pictures, squish bugs, replace lightbulbs, get stuff off the high shelves, and stand up for ourselves all on our own. And we can usually do it, my darlings, with style. But.

There are different ways to take care of someone. We care for them the way they need, and they care for us. And that is huge. And incredible. That makes us pretty freaking awesome.

I chose femme. Are there queer girls out there who didn't, who just went through life knowing that one day they were destined for corsets and style and a butch boifriend? Probably. I can tell you it surprised the hell out of me.

I love performing femme because I think we do hedonism so very well. Can you imagine a Puritanical femme? If it's in our life it has to look good, or feel good; better if it's both. Does that make us shallow, frivolous like they say we are? (Don't tell me you've never heard it said.) I don't think so. Maybe the people who call us frivolous are jealous. Maybe they don't know how to enjoy a little healthy hedonism, or maybe they don't understand that life is too short to waste on things that give no pleasure. ...We have a lot to teach you.

To me, femme is what we do. Femme is the sex we have, the who and how. It is the way we walk and talk and flirt. It is the clothes we wear, whether we wear silk and heels or skater shorts or blue jeans that slide down because we've forgotten to wear a belt (maybe that's just me). It is the pillow talk with a lover and the way we take care of them, the way we listen, the way we tell them what they want or need to hear. The way we demand things- attention, respect, compliments (you know it's true).

We perform femme. We do it, every day. We are tops as well as bottoms, we do partner with non-butch queers, we do wear sneakers, we are tough, we are even fashion impaired! Sometimes.

So have I talked too much, been pompous? Yeah, probably. Forgive me- it's my first blog tour!

This book made me so happy because it says: you are not alone. You are not wrong if you're confused. You're not weak. You're just who you are.

Which is something everyone needs to hear sometimes, no matter how fabulous they are.

PS- Go see the other posts on the tour this month because they rock!

4/1. Sugarbutch Chronicles

4/2. Ellie Lumpesse

4/3. Queer-o-mat

4/4. CyDy Blog

4/6. Catalina Loves

4/7. cross-post: The Femme’s Guide and Femme Fagette

4/8. Daphne Gottlieb

4/9. Bilerico Project

4/10. Screaming Lemur: Femme-inism and Other Things

4/13. The Femme Hinterland

4/14. Bochinche Bilingüe: Borderlands Writing and The Vagina Adventures

4/15. Dorothy Surrenders

4/16. Miss Avarice Speaks Her Mind

4/17. The Femme Show

4/19. Sexuality Happens

4/20. Queer Fat Femme

4/21. Sublimefemme Unbound

4/22. Tina-cious.com and Jess I Am (butch-femme couple day!)

4/23. FemmeIsMyGender

4/24. The Lesbian Lifestyle

4/25. Femme Fluff

4/26. Weldable Cookies

\4/27. The Verbosery

4/28. A Consuming Desire and Creative Xicana

4/29. Queercents

4/30. en|Gender

PSA: Lemur Worries

2009-04-08T17:19:00.003-05:00

So my Ferret and I were driving her to work today and as we were driving down the Gods-so-annoying-still-under-construction highway off-road thingy, she asked me: "Do you think all this stuff will still be here in a thousand years? Will there be any sign that we were here?"

And the answer is: No. We're screwed as a species. We're fucking this planet hard, with no regard as to what's going to happen to it in the future. We're going to run out of oil in something like 50-100 years, which isn't long, really. We're fucking with the OZone layer, we're polluting everything we touch, and oh yeah there's famine in like, what, a quarter of the world. Meanwhile we're living in one the most wasteful nations on Earth.

I read somewhere that car companies bought up the prototype for an excellent working electric car a few years ago. Then, they destroyed it. Their greed was more important than the end of oil-based cars, more important than progress, more important than the environment. The money was more important the fate of the planet.

I wonder what will happen to us, I really do.

Ferret says the planet will repair itself, given time. Yeah, I agree, I think it will.

But we both know- and so do you- that the planet's repair would be much faster if we aren't on it. And sometimes I really think we won't be.

And so I worry.

Holy crap, Iowa!

2009-04-06T18:08:00.003-05:00

Iowa! Yes, Iowa! Not-very-far-from-us Iowa!
...has legalized same-sex marriage!

Hoo-fuckin-ray!
I'm so happy I don't know what to say, except hell yeah, it's about time!
This means that the Heartland is starting to fall. Oh noes, (gasp) Progressivism!
Hopefully by the time the conservo-wingnuts are able to protest, everything'll have settled down and people will realize the sky hasn't fallen.
Although you'd think people could look at Massachusetts (and Canada, and Sweden, etc.) and take note of the fact that their major cities aren't in flames, FFS.

But anyway... Iowa! By unanimous vote! And Vermont too, by the way.
...Bwa ha ha...Today Iowa, tomorrow the world!
(Sorry. Couldn't help it.)

Now I am going to grab my Ferret and start MapQuestin'. Cause, hey, you never know when the urge for a road trip may strike.

Mazel tov everyone!

Femmethology Tour

2009-04-01T17:14:00.002-05:00

The Femmethology Virtual Tour begins today!
Hooray!
(I am on it! Holy crap!)

I better get cracking and write something femme-tastic.

...In the meantime, I will write the same random shit I always do and just hope it sounds cool.

But you should check out the site, and the other blogs on the list, many of whom are way more awesome than I.

My tour date is the 10th!

W00t!

You Come To It

2009-03-31T15:36:00.004-05:00

So I was thinking last night about these wacky fundies and their need to control the universe. I was thinking about Obama and his "No-really-see-I'm-devout-but-not-crazy" style of Christianity, and I was thinking about Wicca and how it's (usually) so utterly different from the way these church-goers behave.

I was thinking, in short, about religion. And I was doing it in the shower, mostly because I'd forgotten the fifth verse in that song about the old ladies in the lavatory. But still, thought is thought. Right?

Right. Anyway...

Some time ago I had a conversation with a friend of my mother-in-law, let's call her L. L is very nice, and very intelligent, and a McCain voter (though I tend to think of those last two things as a contradiction in terms). But the conversation swung around to religion and it has stayed with me, because it gave me some insight into the minds of some of these godbags.

L was asking me (very respectfully) about Wicca, how I came to it, what it's about, and all the usual things. She asked me about churches, and holidays, and ritual worship practices, and asked why I'm so reluctant to talk about it. I sigh. "Partially because I'm uncomfortable talking about my beliefs, because it's personal. And partly, and more importantly, because I don't want to be seen as trying to convert anyone. That's not how it works."
I told her this, and she was astounded. She asked incredulously "But doesn't it make you happy? Improve your life?"

"Yes, this is what feels right for me."

"Then if it makes you happy, why wouldn't you want to share that with everyone?"

And I didn't couldn't seem to explain to her my firm belief that what works for one person may not necessarily work for all, and that I don't need to tout my religion to all and sundry as "the way", because it is what it is- and also I believe in thinking for yourself.

So finally I smiled at her as mysteriously as I could and stated: "Wicca doesn't come to you. You come to it."

"Oh," she said, wide-eyed.

And on some level it was just to end the subject, but really I do kind of feel that way. There's no such thing as a Wiccan missionary. We don't recruit. Everybody I've met who comes to it, finds their own path.

And forgive me but I much prefer it to evangelizing- much quieter, for a start. Why it should be so hard to grasp that hello! not everyone wants to 'accept Jesus as their personal savior', I've no idea. I think it'd be great if they took a leaf from our book (which they started out with anyway and rewrote to suit themselves; Halloween, Easter, and Christmas, anyone? ...Ahem), and just let people come to them; a religion that's forced on you can't be very enlightening, can it?

But I know my experience isn't the only experience. Any opinions?

A Fucking GayMarriage Link Roundup

2009-03-24T11:55:00.000-05:00

Yay! More linky goodness, and I have decided that they will all use the word "fuck", since a little gratuitous cursing always makes my day better.

XKCD reveals that "nice guys" fucking suck.

These guys talk about how the LDS Church is comprised of cowardly fuckers.

This is fucking funny- Reverse Non-recognition?

Dear christian Fundies: learn to share, for fuck's sake!

Melissa talks about how the banks are fucking us- left right and center.

And a couple things that are fucking cool:

So cute and so fucking weird. I want one!

These guys deserve your attention because they're fucking awesome.

Okay, I'm done. I'm officially "fucked" out. (My Ferret will not be pleased to hear that!)

I don't know how PhysioProf manages to sustain that level of profanity on his blog; more power to him, say I!

Let me know how you like my links, and if you've got good ones, leave 'em in comments.

(h/t to Shakesville, Gender Goggles, and um I forget who else.)

Caption This Photo

2009-03-14T14:57:00.006-05:00

...No, really, caption it!

Hey, look! More cuteness pictures! Enjoy them...

Chaos says: Kitten tongue. For those hard to reach areas between your toez.

Haven's reaction to all things kitteny: OMG WTF

Nomad says: Okay. Mountain climb was fun. Now what?

"Okay your idea of family togetherness sucks and I am squished. Down now!"

...So yes, one metric fuckton of cute, just for you. Yay!

You'll Find Me In The [Strip] Club

2009-03-12T18:08:00.000-05:00

...Or rather, you won't.

I've been to strip clubs; "both kinds" (that is, for het guys and for het ladies)... I was younger, I was dumber, I was curious, I was invited along.

And most of what I can remember is... it's weird.

"Regular" strip clubs (where women get naked for men) are... disturbing. These women looked so naked- I mean, more naked than usual, stalking around in nothing but torture-high heels. And I felt very out of place there. This did not turn me on. Even though I appreciate nudity on both genders (having only seen cis-men and cis-women naked, and not any other gender), this was... different. They weren't naked because they wanted to be, and it seemed unfair and wrong. As one woman headed on to the stage for her dance, I saw her coworker come down the stairs, look sympathetically at her, and remind her to "smile!". Smile, because it was her job to be on display and to look like it was fun. I can remember that image, because that's when I knew I would not be going back to that place.

I've been to a 'naked-men' strip club, too- even worse, I swear. I went to a friend-of-a-friend's bachelorette party. What was really amusing was that while women in strip clubs (in Florida, anyway) can get fully nude, men apparently don't. These guys took their clothes off down to a pair of black speedos, and some of them put... socks? a roll of quarters? a small dildo? in there to be more, um, impressive. And while the guy onstage was dancing, other guys would stand around the edge of the stage which ran the length of the club and just... um, pelvic-thrust. And women would put money in their speedos. Seriously. I could not imagine a sane reason for it, but there it was. I was torn between laughter and nausea. Eventually nausea won and I asked my friend if we could leave early.

These guys all looked like they were, really, having fun. And why not? I could feel the calculated performance, the condescension, and the lack of vulnerability that I'd seen in the women strippers. Hey, I thought, in my next life, I wanna be a Chippendale's dancer!
On my way out, a girl popped up out of nowhere and started talking to us. She told us that "she was good friends with lots of the performers" and that "all of them are single and all of them straight". This, I reflected, was either some highly draconian hiring principles or the biggest pile of bullshit I'd encountered all month. Didn't matter, anyway. We wished her good night and got the hell out.

The objectification of women as a sex class aside, strip clubs creep me out. And that's why.

Whatever fundamental difference there is in the thought processes of men and women, that's part of it. Many men go to these places and spend all their money and have a good time. And I... felt a queasiness in the pit of my stomach the whole time: the kind that says, you should leave. you are doing something wrong.
Sigh. IBTP

Small and Fuzzy Invaders

2009-03-09T18:30:00.004-05:00

We have kittens. They are very small and very fluffy and very very cute. We were only going to take home one, but somehow I was railroaded and against my prudent judgement, we ended up with two.

Their names are Nomad and Chaos, and so far they have been living up to their nomenclature- kitten-bounding all over the house, wandering behind the stove to see what's there, climbing up onto the bed and the top of the couch, squeaking aggressively at tissues, severely disturbing poor Haven (who is not pleased at these small fuzzy invaders), and clambering into the ferret cage whenever I leave it open.

Can we all live to learn together? There are now twice as many animals as humans living in our house.

There has been so much random crap in the news lately that I thought some fuzzy blogging would be just the thing. Pictures later.

iBleed

2009-03-06T14:30:00.004-06:00

So, I am having my period.

...This is an experiment I'm doing. Have you ever noticed that having lady-parts is like this big, taboo thing? That we are expected to never talk about, ever? It's a conspiracy:

I was harassed when I got my first period in 7th grade- by other girls.

My parents get unnerved when they see tampon commercials on tv. Cause happy floating tampons and ambiguous blue liquids are unsuitable for viewing, or something.

My mother told me to hide my pads in the garbage in case my 10-year-old brother saw them.

This, despite the fact that 50% of the population does, will, or used to have a period!

I feel that this is some bullshit. So, from now on, I don't care that it's an "overshare" to talk about my period. I have one. If it is relevant, I will mention it. If I have cramps, I will say so. I will not wrap my used tampons in 83 layers of toilet paper lest fragile male eyes be traumatized by the sight of blood. If there are people out there who aren't aware that cisgendered females of "reproductive age" have menstrual cycles, it is time they learned.

Also, if I hear any more men make that stupid "joke" about "Being afraid of anything that bleeds for 7 days and doesn't die", I will... actually, I haven't decided how I will respond yet. I have many options, though!

Do I:

a) tell him I, personally, am afraid any group of people responsible for 90% of all violence, such as men;

b) respond with "I'd be afraid of that, too! But technically, I'm not releasing blood out of my veins. I'm expelling the unused lining of my uterine wall, which is totally different and not part of my circulatory system!" in the hopes that I will gross him out so much he will shut up;

c) explain that that fucking joke isn't funny, wasn't funny 40 years ago when it was new, and tell him never to talk again because he's abused the privelege;

d) or, when he tells me it's "just a joke", kick him in the nuts- because that would certainly make me laugh... now who's "oversensitive", smartarse?

Any thoughts? Because I know at least one person who's likely to say that to me at some point.

Jesus called. He wants his religion back.

2009-03-06T12:06:00.003-06:00

Aaaand the Vatican once again proves that the leaders of the Catholic church are a bunch of aliens who have no concept of humanity or empathy.

You bunch of fucking assholes.

What the hell is wrong with these people?

This girl is NINE. Nine years old. She was raped and in all likelihood would have died. And quite possibly the TWINS she was carrying would have died. But on the off-chance that no one died, she would have had twins. At nine years old. The product of rape. At nine. By her stepfather. I mean, dear fucking gods have mercy.

So... she had an abortion, which is about all that could be done to preserve the life and sanity of this poor girl. And in a slightly saner world, that would have been it. It would have been private, and over with, and on to therapy.

But then. Somehow, the church got involved. And then there was more torture. And a complete and utter lack of compassion.

And the church excommunicated the mother and the doctors, called it murder, and have been very censorious about the whole thing. Big surprise. Assholes.

Amazingly, though, the stepfather? He's not been excommunicated. In fact, not one word about him. Also? Not one word about this little girl and the suffering imposed on her- by men, who will never have to go through this but keep trying to control it.

I guess you could say I'm religious- I believe there's more out there than us; that there's things we don't know and may never know. I believe in the divine.

As a Wiccan, I live by the Wiccan Rede and the Rule of Three: "do as you will, an it harm none" and "every action you take, for good or ill, returns to you, threefold". Watch what you do, try not to hurt people and be aware of the impact of your words and actions. It's not hard.

Christians are supposed to be doing the same things- remember "love thy neighbor"? What about "let he who is without sin cast the first stone"? Religion is supposed to be there to teach us to be good to one another, to do no harm, and for those who are wronged, see that justice is done or at least that comfort is given to the hurting.

Why then is religion suddenly no longer concerned with these things? Where is this girl's comfort? Where is the justice for the man who harmed her? And why are all these Bishops surreptitiously picking up rocks? No wonder so many people are abandoning religion these days- it teaches them nothing good.

Pessimistic maybe, but that's how I'm feeling.

People who are supposed to follow the example of a man of a man who sought love, peace, and the commonalities of all people- and they all seem to be promoting fear, hatred, and shame. What the hell is going on here??

...The cognitive dissonance makes my head ache.

I Can't Bear It

2009-02-26T19:19:00.001-06:00

So I broke down and went to the coin wash to do my laundry today, and it was like time-traveling back to the 70's- big washers, dryers with names on 'em, a soda machine from before I was born... It was actually a nice little place, except for one thing.

On the corkboard that all these place seem to have on a wall somewhere ( you know, with business cards and ads selling stuff with the phone numbers on rip-off slips at the bottom), there was a picture of a big black bear sitting at a picnic table.

Cute, yeah? Not so much.

The text underneath read:

"This bear captures a disturbing trend that is beginning to affect wildlife in the US.
Animals that were formerly self-sufficient are now showing signs of belonging to the Democrat Party... as they have apparently learned to just sit and wait for the government to step in and provide for their care and sustenance. The locals in [Some Midwest Park] named this one 'Bear-ack Obama'!

Get it? Get it???? It's not just funny cause the bear is black! Its funny cause Democrats just wanna hand things out to all the lazy people and/or have things handed them, and now, animals will do it too! LOLZ, amirite???

I mean, it makes sense. I know I've never heard of a Republican who get his job/money/life handed to him by a rich, powerful father. No no, all those Repubs did it themselves!

[Insert sound of crickets chirping]

Yeah, I had a hard time keeping a straight face when I typed that.
What I really wanted to do was write underneath: "If this same bear had gone on a rampage and gotten several people killed, he'd have been nicknamed 'John McCain'.

Instead I folded my shirts and put my business card up on the corkboard. Sigh.
I comfort myself by vowing that if I get any Obama-hatin' racist misogynist homophobe potential clients, I'll tell them I'm a big ol' liberal dyke. Oh, and that I'd rather see my tax money go to helping people- whether they've "earned" it or not- than go to more war, more CEO's private jets and more campaign funds.

Fucking Conservatives.

Listening to Fear

2009-02-23T13:04:00.000-06:00

So I was discussing things with my Ferret yesterday. Mainly guy culture, and why I get so sick of it. Most of dude culture annoys me- things like (1)the glorification of bodily functions- except when women's bodies are involved; (2) the ritual of "bullshitting"- i.e., lying for the the hell of it/to make yourself sound 'cooler'; and (3) the building of trust not by talking or sharing or anything that makes sense, but by doing (1) and (2) while hanging out with each other forever until somehow you just know your compatriot's an "ok guy". The thing I really hate though, is (4) "bros before hos"- that huge part of dude culture dedicated to "keeping the wimminz in their place". You've heard it- make me a sammich, give me a blowjob, iron my shirt, don't talk, hur hur threesomes, blah blah blah I'm an asshole.

And even the guys that aren't, individually, so bad, become like this when a bunch of them get together. It's like the small amount of entitlement that lurks in the hearts of otherwise decent dudes grows in direct proportion to how many (hetero, generally) men you get in one place.

Ferret, of course, takes my tirade rather personally and jumps to the defense of her dudely brethren, which is totally depressing. "Sure, there are some assholes out there. But how many girls only want a guy for his money... blah backstabbing catty wenches, blah blah psycho chicks, blah blah, upshot: women are just as bad as men."

I disagree. Not that I am excusing the members of my sex/gender from being assholes- anybody can be an asshole. But I point out to Ferret that, while it can happen, I am wildly less likely to be physically or sexually assaulted (axe-murdered, raped, jumped on the street, et cetera) by someone with lady-parts. In other words, I am not afraid of women. Freaked out by, confused by, amazed by, afraid for, and often proud of, yeah. But I'm not afraid of women. Men, on the other hand? Allow me at this juncture to chuckle and look away uneasily.

There are reasons. It's my personal life experiences, it's the statistics and stories in the news. It's the things we are shown in the media. We are called hysterical, bitches, and dysfunctional for saying it, but it's true. Women are still the sex class, second-class, not considered "real people", still oppressed. And the pervading feeling of the underclass is always fear. Fear when I walk to my car alone at night, when I'm around a strange group of men, when I'm alone anywhere. It's not a huge! obtrusive! fear!, but a low-level wariness in my brain, and it's always there. And I don't think I'm the only woman who lives her life like this.

And...I hate this. I try never to admit it. I don't want to be that woman. I don't want the fear to run me. I don't want that to be the reason for my feminism, and I don't think it is- otherwise my blog would probably resemble IBTP a lot more. (I mean in a separatist sense- I'm not implying Twisty fears the dudez.)

But here's the thing: we have a group of teenage boys in our house on a regular basis (please don't ask me how that happened). They're good kids, they really are. But I tend to be a bit of a control freak when they're there, because I'm used to being ignored/talked over/dismissed by guys, and I'm not letting it happen this time. I'm the boss, dammit! Me! And I'm worried about getting the respect I think I deserve- keeping in mind that respect for teenagers is relative. I worry about control. Also, what I always think about with dudes is: how do they talk about women when women aren't around?.

And Ferret asked me: "Do you really think any of those boys are abusive rapist bastards? Really, Lemur?"

"No! But I'm afraid one day they might be, and it freaks me out, and I don't know how to fix it."

I don't know how to fix them, or me, or whether any of us actually need fixing at all.

And I get so damn angry when I think about the fear.

Schizo-femme-ia

2009-02-19T18:51:00.005-06:00

So I got to thinking the other day. I was walking through Wal-Mart (I hate that place with a fucking fiery passion), and I saw a butch. An older lady, with her partner, which was a really nice thing to see. Yes. Butch sighting in the WalMart! Now those make my day any time, but more so here in this town where apparently you keep your 'mo on the down-low. So as she was walking by, I thought: I love when I recognize a member of the Family. But... how would they recognize me? If she heard me say "Day-um!" under my breath (I did, too), would she take it as a compliment or think I was just another uppity breeder?

I have issues about my personal visibility because there are so many factors. (I have so many issues, I should just buy the subscriptions, but anyway.)

For one, I don't want to brodcast my identity to everyone because, well, I'm still not comfy being gay in this town. I still worry, and it makes me mad that I have to worry about losing clients or assholes accosting me, but there it is. Hell, it was a major personal triumph when I put a small rainbow decal on my car!

Then, too, I'm sort of... in the middle when it comes to gender expression. I'm certainly not high femme, like the lovely SublimeFemme. But I'm also not butch, like the studly Sinclair. I'm a- Ellen said it perfectly: "I'm not really a lipstick lesbian. I'm more of a... Chapstick lesbian." Sometimes I feel like I'm not recognizable as much of anything. Someone tell me, is it just me? Do any other queer girls wish for a box, a label, a knowable and noticeable archetype, or even a stereotype? Anybody else wonder sometimes whether things would be different-- easier-- if you were a different flavor? Something simple like say, mint chocolate, instead of cherry-banana-vanilla-mocha-walnut?

What the hell is a Practical Femme to do?

So that's my issue for the week, kittens. I worry about not looking femme enough. I worry about looking too butch. I worry about being too visible as gay, and not visible enough.

And then my partner asks me why it is I get so stressed.

Is it just me?

Sparkly Beef Humor

2009-02-16T13:57:00.002-06:00

So last night I took some meat out of the freezer to defrost (and yes, this Wiccan does eat meat. More on that some other time), and Ferret saw it in the fridge and said "Hey hon? Where'd we get this?"

"The freezer, dear; I just took it out" said I.

"Really?"

"Uh-huh."

"You're sure?"

I sigh in exasperation.

"No. I lied. The Magical Meat Fairy dropped it off. She magically left us some magical sparkly twinkly beef in the freezer."

My Ferret muttered something snarky and wandered away, but "sparkly twinkly meat" became my catchphrase for the rest of the night. Including at the top of my lungs in the store parking lot, much to her chagrin.

*snerk* Twinkly beef!

Hey, Look, I Got My Wish

2009-02-16T12:47:00.000-06:00

I wished for something to talk about besides BDSM-bashing...Now I wish I hadn't.

Oh, and by the way, FUCK cultural relativism. No really, one person makes that argument to me and I will invent a way to send a headslap through email.

Is It Over Yet? Cause Now I'm Pissed.

2009-02-12T14:00:00.004-06:00

Is this whole "OMGZ BDSM can DIAF" thing over yet? Can we talk about something else? I swear to Gaia I would rather sit and discuss the Jessica Simpson Weight Nontroversy (thanks Liss) than hear one more comment about how bdsm'ers are pathetic or need therapy or what the fuck ever.

I'm starting to get righteously pissed about this whole thing- because while lying in bed with my partner (after some awesome sex that left me bruised and sore, since you're wondering), I remembered something, and have been given permission to post it on here. Ferret didn't really think about sex til she met me. When we started to be physical with each other, in our late teens, there was a memorable episode wherein she and I both came to realize that she was both Dom and a sadist. She, having not much experience or knowledge about the sexual randomness that's out there, freaked. She freaked completely and wouldn't come near me afterward, afraid she'd hurt me. Afraid she couldn't control herself, that I'd hate her and think she was a monster. Afraid she was actually an abusive bastard who couldn't love anyone without hurting them.

We worked it out- I got over the shock fairly fast and had a talk with her about BDSM, about how it can be okay, and about how I happened to share some of her feelings about sex and pain. We managed, and happily we found we had complimentary desires, and ten years later we still do.

But if there hadn't been someone with her who understood? If there'd been someone who held the same views as, say, ND there that night?

And if someone in the same place Ferret was in- that place of being afraid of yourself, denying that you want these things, hating yourself, wondering what kind of sick freak you are- happens to read that blog, especially the part about how all "those people" "need serious therapy" and "get off on torture" and should just "kill themselves"? What do you think that will do to them? What the fuck happens to that person?

How cruel is it to blast not just strong adults who understand their sexuality, but maybe trigger those people just discovering that side of themselves? How many people have you hurt, ND- really, cruelly, maybe destroyed, because you had to make judgements on a lifestyle you don't fucking understand and haven't really bothered to research? Do you know whether your words have driven any confused teenagers to "fucking kill themselves"?

Is it worth it, dammit?

Embrace the Pain, Dammit!

2009-02-10T15:46:00.003-06:00

Wow... so this is kind of a scary discussion. There's a whole series of it, by the way, and I am not the only one who's taking offense, apparently.

ND, speaking as someone who generally likes your stuff, not cool. Why would you ask these questions if you don't think there's a possibility of changing your mind? Why, if you're going to discuss BDSM, would you only take on this one aspect of it? And I don't know how you can agree with your commenters who treat the sub (and dom) women (and men) who answer you as though their actual, lived experiences don't matter. As though they're crazy, brainwashed, anti-feminist nutjobs if they're submissive women, and sadistic misogynist serial-rapist bastards if they're men.

I mean hell, where do I even fit in with all that? What am I, chopped liver?

It's hard not to take it as a personal attack on my own agency and sexuality. I'm a bisexual feminist in a relationship with a Dom woman- so what does that make me? Deluded, abused, not actually extant? Is it better because Ferret's a woman, or worse because she's butch, so that makes her "like a man"?

FFS, nobody "groomed" either one of us to like what we like. We just do. And yes, I've been in relationships that were strictly "vanilla" and it was fine. So? Just because I can be content with that, does it mean I should limit myself to only "plain" sex because anything else is "disgusting"?

Just because I can enjoy sex and relationships with men, does that mean I shouldn't be with my Ferret, because Xtian fundies think it's "disgusting"?

Because my partner enjoys being dominant, rough, and violent in bed with me, that makes her an abuser, sick, demented? Because she enjoys that dark side of herself, she should kill herself? Come the fuck on.

I enjoy the adrenaline rush that comes with fear during sex-- it's controlled fear like a rollercoaster, not the sickening helplessness of real rape-panic. I enjoy the endorphin rush that accompanies pain done well, and wouldn't do it with anyone I didn't trust totally.

I love my partner and I'm sorry but I get a little offended at anyone telling me that what I like is "sick" or "abuse". I was in an abusive relationship, thanks. He never beat me, the sex was vanilla, and I was still miserable. Now I have a partner who sometimes whips me with a belt during sex and I've never been so happy. I've given a LOT of thought to BDSM and its feminist implications; thought about whether I'm defective, thought about whether I really enjoy it or whether I'm just doing it because Ferret loves it.

Is it kinda weird? Yeah. Is it abuse? I'm gonna say no. Do I know the difference? I think so.

I can understand why ND feels the way she does; I get it. It's hard for me to watch a man tie up and flog a woman and NOT associate it with "actual" torture, even knowing the woman in question has not just consented but probably requested this treatment- because she enjoys it. Because yeah, women have been and still are abused that way and it's hard not to see enjoyment of it as a pathology.

So I get how it would horrify her.

But...but! It's not the whole story, and it is indeed a long and complicated story. And reducing it to a few sentences- leaving half the numbers out of the equation- means you get a flawed answer. And telling the multitude of men and women who swear they enjoy BDSM that they are sick, deluded, or brainwashed doesn't give enough credit to the agency or free will of strong, intelligent adults- myself among them.

Why Lemur Doesn't Make Lawyer Jokes, Part 2

2009-02-09T13:07:00.004-06:00

Continuing from Part 1, we have a very frightened Lemur, who finally managed to leave her abusive boyfriend.

She was running out of strength. Her friends were distant, her family was losing patience, and she was becoming afraid to leave the house because every white truck she saw triggered fear. So as a last resort, she did what she'd been taught: she went to the police. She had called them before, but they never seemed to be able to help. This time, though, she had a goal: a restraining order. Something, anything, to make him stop! So she went- and got an interview with a bored-looking officer who not-quite-sneered at her lack of "hard evidence" and told her there was nothing he could do; a judge wouldn't grant a restraining order without evidence of threats of physical harm, which she didn't have. She walked out, feeling alone and helpless.

This was it. There was no way to stop him; the only other option was to try and avoid him- even though he knew her phone number, where she worked, where she lived, where her friends lived... even though he'd accosted her in daylight, in a public place, in his work uniform and seemed to have gotten away with it. There would be time to gather her strength and self-reliance and work out a plan later; at that point, Lemur was defeated. She sat in her car in the police station parking lot and gave in to misery and fear. As Lemur sat there and sobbed, there was a tap on her car window.
A lady stood there in the parking lot next to her car, looking concerned. Lemur opened the door and looked at her. "Are you ok?" asked the lady. At this bit of concern, Lemur lost her reserve and broke down, explaining that her ex-boyfriend was stalking and harassing her and that the police had told her there was nothing they could do about it. The lady's face darkened. "Like hell there's not! You come with me." Lemur followed the woman across the parking lot toward a different part of the police building, at a complete loss. The lady explained as they walked that she was a public defender; when they got to her office, she sat Lemur down and told her in no uncertain terms that there were, in fact, laws for cases just such as hers, adding her professional opinion that the cop Lemur had spoken to "just didn't want to do the damn paperwork. Lazy ass. You realize if you'd gotten hurt, he's guilty of negligence?"

The lady looked up the laws, showed them to Lemur and gave her a copy of the relevant pages, and then asked for Jerkoff's phone number.
She left a message on his phone: "You should call me for some free legal advice, unless you'd like the first time you speak to me be when you're in jail on a felony charge." She hung up the phone and smiled. "Here's my card. Call me if he bothers you again, but I don't think he will."
She was right. Lemur waited anxiously for a day, two days, a week, a month. Nothing. It was like he'd disappeared. She was finally free, she could leave the house! (Still, it took several more weeks before she stopped being afraid of white trucks.) She could drive by Jerkoff's neighborhood without detouring to avoid it. Several months later, she met someone nice and realized she was strong enough to try dating again. She grew, and she learned, and she mourned the things she had lost and the time she had wasted. And she held on to the lessons she'd learned, and swore she'd never be such a fool again. (So far, so good.)
But she never forgot the lady lawyer who saved her, gave her her life back, and gave her hope when she was on the edge of despair. Not the police. Not the system. One strong woman, one lawyer who cared about an anonymous wreck of a girl in a parking lot. She didn't forget.

And that is why this Lemur- badass irreverent feminist bitch- doesn't make lawyer jokes. Because a lawyer saved me when no one else would or could. Why did I tell this story? I don't know. Because I felt it important to share my experience. Because someone reading may recognize their own past or present; because someone may avoid that future.

Because- thank you, Carol- hope comes from unlikely places.

It Breaks My Heart

2009-02-06T15:07:00.003-06:00

So I was going to post Part 2 next, and I will, but I wanted everyone who reads my blog- yeah, all 3 of you- to see this video, via Feministe and Shakesville. I cried like a baby and I wish there was a way to make everyone watch it. I'ma go post it on myspace, facebook, anywhere I've carved out a piece of the 'Net for myself. I want to marry my Ferret someday and I hope that when we decide to, we'll be able to.

"Fidelity": Don't Divorce... from Courage Campaign on Vimeo.

Why Lemur Doesn't Make Lawyer Jokes: A Long and Painful Story, Part 1

2009-02-06T10:20:00.001-06:00

Let me tell you a story:

Several years ago, in a far-away place in the South, there was a young Lemur. This Lemur didn't consider herself naive or easily led; she was sexy and strong and confident. But one day through some friends, this Lemur met a guy when she was newly-single and rebounding. This guy, we'll call him Jerkoff, was in fact a handsome and charming guy, and Lemur soon found herself dating him, despite the occasional... difference of opinion. To make a VERY long story short, Jerkoff soon proved himself to be a manipulative, abusive bastard. Miserable and fearful, having lost many of the things in life most important to her, Lemur struggled with the relationship for nearly two years before she finally found the strength to leave him behind for good.

Jerkoff, however, was determined not to go quietly. Oh, no. He had her under his thumb (despite her repeated attempts at independence) and he knew how to make her cry. He knew how to make her angry and frustrated, and he decided to get his revenge on her for having the audacity to leave him. He began his campaign: he called her phone dozens of times a day. He tried to get into her car when she left him for the final time. He followed her to friends' houses and tried to see her. He began vandalizing her car, nearly injuring her twice. He called and threatened her, threatened her parents and threatened to kill the pet cats she'd been forced to leave with him. He cornered her at a gas station and threw soda on her car: seemingly not a big thing, but humiliating and demoralizing.

To be continued on Part 2...

"My House Is Not On Fire"

2009-01-31T13:08:00.004-06:00

So sometimes I worry about my friends. I worry about everyone who just. doesn't. understand! about why this whole feminism thing is so important. And I get angry about it. In theory, I understand that not everyone will think like me or even agree with me, and it doesn't make them wrong. But when it comes to this, and especially when it comes to other women who are deliberately, bilssfully ignorant about the shit that happens all around us, it's hard to keep a level head.

Case in point: my friend B. We have been friends for years and are used to each others' quirks. I was visiting her yesterday and while reading teh interwebz, I saw this post from Hoyden About Town and was bitching to her about the tendency of advertising to treat women as interchangeable body parts. Her response: "I don't care about that stuff. I'm not a feminist, Lemur, you know that."

"Yes, B, you are. Do you like going to college? Choosing who to marry? Having a career? Owning property? Hell, getting to vote?? Feminists did that. You're a feminist."

"Okay, fine, but I'm not as much of one as you are. I don't care about that stuff, Lemur. I'm not angry about ads and commercials and stuff like you are- they don't affect me. I don't leave the house (and she really doesn't if she can help it), I don't watch TV or read magazines, I don't watch the news. That stuff is just depressing, and I'm happy where I am."

At this point I lose my patience. I tell her about the Global Gag rule, the HHS "conscience rule" that Shrub just passed, about 9 year old child brides in Afghanistan, about rape culture, about the effects of popular media.

I finish with, "This stuff is allowed to happen because people don't want to worry about it. Because people sat back and didn't care about it, until at some point we realize we've lost all our rights, we're in too deep, and there's no way to fix it.

Maybe you don't care about these ads, but they care about you! They make you into a demographic, a commodity, an object. This stuff affects how the world sees you, and even though you don't realize it, they affect how you see the world! Your boyfriend, in the other room? He's a good guy, yeah. These "stupid, unimportant ads and stuff" affect how sees you, and me, and himself. No one is immune. This IS important, and someone has to care about it."

I can see by her face that she feels that I'm lecturing her, trying to browbeat her. I can tell she's annoyed, put out, not listening. She doesn't understand, and I feel like crying. I don't know what I can say, what the magic words of realization might be. I can't make her care, but I am baffled that she doesn't. How can any woman not care about this?

I feel as though I am telling her: "The house is on fire! We have to do something!" And she only says: "I am in my room, the door is closed, and it's not warm in here at all."

"Be A Man"

2009-01-26T13:45:00.004-06:00

Sorry I haven't updated- still no internet at the house, and still more sick than well. I understand now that seasonal depression thing some people go through. Never thought I'd miss SoFlo, but dear Goddess I just wanna be warm again.

...Anyway. Today's rant is on something I've been seeing in Christian websites just lately (I was looking for a feminist book review and my Google-fu went awry). Actually, I see it all the time whenever Fundies get together and discuss how The Liberals Are Ruining Society. It's this: "We have to encourage our men to be men!" Or some equivalent. Has anyone else noticed this creepy meme?

One commenter on catholicexchange.com (which I will not link) babbles happily "Sometimes my friends who have a “super sized” family like I have sit around and discuss that our large families have forced our husbands to step up to the plate and become a man. They shoulder immense burdens for the sake of their families when they could’ve limited their family’s size through sterilization, the IUD, or the pill and used their wives as objects while they pursued personal interests."

Yeah, that truckload of brats "forced him" to step up and work back breaking hours to feed all those dependents. Good thing, too- who knows what would've happened if you hadn't been there to add to the world's overpopulation. It's not like he was probably a decent guy from the start or anything. But without all those kids, he might've pursued *gasp* outside interests- like friends, a hobby, or career ambitions. Hey, we all know having a shit-ton of kids prevents an otherwise irresponsible, unfaithful man from chasing other women and/or divorcing his wife and leaving her with 5 kids to feed. Also, good thing to know that the woman who's basically a uterus on legs doesn't feel like an object! Whew! I'm so relieved.

She also adds a cute little aside about how she makes a MUCH better chocolate chip cookie than hubby, but golly, he's her best taster! Tee hee! Cause he's a man and, you know, they love to eat but can't cook! Those menz- they'd starve without a wifey in an apron!

Excuse me while I go throw up.

And now the church is saying than men aren't manly enough, and that, obviously, old-fashioned gender roles and huge families are the ticket to making them "step up and be men".

I'm guessing what that means is: they should be responsible, loving, considerate, and do their best to care for and protect the ones they love. Be strong enough to take care of their kids, homes, and livelihoods. Treat others as you'd want to treated. Not act like 35-year-old children, not act as though the world and everything in it is their personal toy.

Great. Awesome. I couldn't agree more. Except... why is this the purview of men? Why do we need to go back to traditional gender roles? Aren't these qualities important for, um, everyone? What- responsibility and steadfastness are only desirable if you have a penis? And us laydeez are just supposed to stand back and giggle/applaud, or something?

Ick. Is it just me, or does that logic not resemble our Earth logic?

Look, my thing is- what is a man, anyway? And why do we make boys work so hard to conform to that narrow ideal? Why can't a woman work and support her family (wage gap aside)? Why can't a man be the one to take care of and nurture his kids?

Why, other than that we're taught from a young age "this is how things are"? Why is it so important to 'be a man' when what we should all be striving for is to 'be a decent human being'?

Well, catholics and fundies? I'm waiting. ...Bueller? Anybody?

Banging My Head Into A Wall For Fun

2009-01-02T12:22:00.001-06:00

"Lemur, why don't you want kids?"

For the same reason I don't bang my head against a wall for fun.

When my Ferret and found our own place, I was relieved. Her folks were very nice to let us stay there while we got it together, but there were 7 people, 1 bathroom, 3 dogs, and 2 small children.

I don't like kids. I can manage them, in small groups. I tolerate them. I occasionally even think they're cute. But seeing a baby in a stroller does not make me wish for one myself. I seem to lack the maternal imperative. Obviously, we need some around to continue the species; obviously, some people find fulfillment in having kids. Don't get me wrong- I'm happy for those who're happy with kids, who are good parents for good reasons (I can't define "good reason", but I know all the bad reasons).

So, no kids for me. The world does not need my parenting skills- any kid I unleashed on the world would be a world-conquering tyrannical despot or a constantly-stoned couch-philosopher. It's safer this way, really. And I don't need kids. I have plenty of walls handy, thanks.

What drives me nuts is all the people who smirk and say "Well, you're young. You don't know what you want. Just wait til your biological clock starts ticking. Who'll look after you in your old age? Don't you want a family?" Any or all of the above. Like I haven't thought about this for years. Like I'm not capable of NOT wanting kids. Like I don't have reasons for not wanting them. Like I haven't thought of all this before.

I have a plan for all this. My plan is: Have my finances set up to take care of myself in my old age. And have friends, who'll visit me in my dotage. If my biological clock (which I'm not convinced exists) starts going "cuckoo!" and I start wanting kids around, I'll join a mentoring program. Oh, and as for "family"? I have a family. Besides my immediate family and the family I'm marrying into, there's also my own family: me, Ferret, and our fuzzies. We're our own family. Small but happy. Yay for us.

I wish people would consider adoption more often, though. I know there're all kinds of problems with the system- one of the biggest that in many (most?) states, LGBT folks can't adopt. But I think the biggest problem is that we're still stuck in this medieval mindset where kids were a necessity (for work on the farm) or a point of pride (look, my penis is manly and virile!) or a point of fear (the family name will die if I don't have kids! [never mind that usually a woman's family name disappears into obscurity]). These, and all the other stupid excuses to BREED, DAMN YOU! don't make sense to me.

Hey guys? Screw your genes. The world doesn't need them. If you're worried about your race or religion "dying out" or "being outnumbered", you're a bigoted asshole, and the world REALLY doesn't need your genes. And any talk about "bloodlines" is ridiculous. This isn't the Middle Ages, you aren't European Nobility. In this age, paternity's no longer a life-and-death issue. Let's see, what else? Most of you don't have farms; if you need help, hire it. Your penis is not that damn important- no, really it's not. Nobody cares. And unless you or your ancestors have done something particularly noteworthy, even your descendants won't remember you, and you won't know them. If you did do something important, you'll be in the history books anyway and you'll be remembered, no kids needed. If you're that worried, make a couple million dollars, endow or donate something big, and give it your freaking name. There ya go.

I can't tell people what to do. I can't suggest we all stop reproducing (although I think we could benefit from a slowdown for a couple generations). I can roll my eyes at people with families of 5 or 6. Don't you guys know when to stop? Think of the homeless kids you could provide for! Hell, think of your carbon footprints and stop making more consumers! Damn, people!

Er. Anyway.

Think. Adopt. Use protection. And for Gaia's sake when someone tells you they don't want kids, congratulate them!

All New! PSA

2008-12-19T17:09:00.003-06:00

So we moved into our new place. And being from a place where the sun actually functions, we didn't think about certain things, like sidewalk salt, that you think about up here. And uh, I fell and broke my ass. Yeah. My ass, knee, and (somehow?) neck were severely battered by my impromptu attempt to get airborne yesterday morning. So now we have sidewalk salt on our very slippery, icy back steps. And I have a really interesting bruise. If you live somewhere cold, please salt your steps and sidewalk. Pretty please.

(My ass is expected to recover.)

That is all.

I'm Poor As Hell But Twice As Pretty

2008-12-11T13:10:00.002-06:00

So with this move, I forgot that internet takes a long time to set up in advance- longer, if you're me, apparently. So we have no Net at our awesome new place, for at least the next two weeks.

So unless I get motivated and go to Starbucks to post my latest angst-fest, you won't see much of me.

Sorry.

Bear with me here, I'm gettin' the shakes without my daily hit of Interwebs.

Privilege-Shock

2008-12-04T16:59:00.000-06:00

So I got an interesting wake-up call the other day. My Ferret and I have been apartment-hunting for the last few weeks or so and we finally found one we liked. The landlord was a friendly, good-natured guy and we were in the process of signing the lease, when he checked her work reference and came out of the other room with a... well, a look on his face. My Ferret is quite butch and she gets mistaken for a dude all the time. Our landlord-to-be had made the same assumption and finally figured it out, and he was- I think the word is flummoxed.

We'd already made it quite clear that we were a couple, and he was having trouble reconciling the nice, normal couple he thought we were with the people his church and political views say are Bad. I could almost see his thoughts swirling.

He was nice about it- just said some things about being surprised, stammered a bit, made reference to he and his wife being all Christian and Republican. I told him so are most of my clients, as well as Ferret's family, and asked him, straight-up, if this was going to be a problem.

He said it wasn't a problem, for him, personally. I'm not sure what that meant, and I'm still a little wary.

I'm pretty sure it's federally illegal to deny someone housing on the basis of sexual orientation (can someone tell me if I'm right about that?), but hell, I'm not going to live where I'm not wanted. I had a file full of other options in my computer.

The thing is- his surprise surprised me. I generally treat being gay as no big deal, and assume others will too. This is partially because to do anything else would be to admit to the Othering that society wants to do to me, and partially because that's how I've always done it: where I come from it IS no big deal. In SoFlo, there were pockets of rightwingers and fundies, but mostly it's considered declasse' to raise a ruckus if someone mentions that they're gay.

Apparently, not so much the rule here in the MidWest. I have the feeling most of the people in this town have never met a gay couple, much less seen them interact like any other couple does. I know there are indeed gay folks here, but I haven't seen many, and I'm told they're "very discreet", which I think is straight-speak for "they know their place and don't make us nervous by being open or acting like actual couples".

Ferret- well, if people don't assume she's a dude, they kinda just jump to "dyke", which saves a lot of dancing around. She's as open as I am, with the "if they don't like it, fuck 'em" mentality. It's pretty rare that anyone tries to mess with her anyway.

I know I have white privilege, able privilege, and passing-for-straight privilege. This is the first time I'd realized: I had "location privilege". Just someone being taken aback by us, much less maybe-resistant to us renting from him, shook me. What must it be like for so many other gays, trapped in the heart of the Bible Belt, or ultrareligioconservative towns or families? Without support or a place to be open about themselves? What must it be like to hide who you are, all the time?

I chose not to hide. I'm proud of who I am and playing the Pronoun Game gives me a headache anyway. But I didn't realize how easy life made it for me to choose, how lucky I was to have that choice at all. It all makes me very uncomfortable, and sometimes it makes me wish I was back in South Florida.

"Did Your Mother Abort You?"

2008-12-02T13:33:00.003-06:00

That's the question an anti-choicer says he raised to various people in South Dakota.

I have asked many people: “Did your Mother abort you?” Before they could answer, I answered for them, saying, “No, she did not. She gave you life.”

What a stupid fucking question. And how convenient that he answers for them. Y'know, I was gonna quote Cara's response to that, and then reply, but instead I'm just gonna link to her article about the SD Abortion Ban Attempt of ought-eight! and you can read her takedown of that awful trope.

And instead of posting this as a long-ass comment on Cara's thread, I decided to post it here and see if I'd get my Very First Troll! So here goes:

I was a wanted baby. Really wanted, first child, mom-standing-on-her-head-after-sex-to-get-pregnant wanted. That makes me really happy, and my mom's never seemed to find her firstborn lacking in redeeming qualities, so I feel I haven't been a letdown in the face of all that anticipation (kinda like having a kid that's the equivalent of socks and underwear for Christmas). And oh by the way, now that I'm here on Earth, I kinda dig it, so that's cool. I'm glad my mom had me, don't get me wrong.

But you know what? Had circumstances been different? Had my mom gotten pregnant at a bad time (couldn't afford, wouldn't have been able to go to school, in a bad relationship, etc.), or before she was ready, or if she just hadn't wanted a kid? Had that been the case, if I could *magically* have told my mother what I, the zygote/fetus/embryo, would've wanted? It would've been for her to have an abortion. I love my mother, and wouldn't have wanted her to give birth to a child she wasn't ready for, couldn't take care of, that might damage her life and that she might resent having to raise. It wouldn't have been to subject her body to nine months of physical and emotional stress only to have to deal with the (probable) emotional wrench of handing me over as soon as I was born to strangers or an indifferent State system.

For my sake, I wouldn't have wanted to grow up in the overcrowded, oft-hostile fostercare system. I wouldn't have wanted to grow up knowing I was responsible for family hardships or that I was an unwanted burden, or worse, being told that by my parents. And oh yeah, there are some sanctimonious pricks who preach that "We should all Choose Life, because they/she had an Unplanned Pregnancy, but they/she Had The Baby" and they do indeed say just those things to their kid.

If your mother had aborted you, you'd have no consciousness to know it, and thus it wouldn't bother "you", the embryo, about whom the whole fuss is about. If your mother had you because she was forced/coerced/had no other choice, your life and your mother's are likely to be a whole lot different.

And since I'm not afraid to put the personal in the political, I'll say this. If it were me, making this choice, having an unplanned pregnancy? Well, (aside from the fact that it's highly unlikely at this point and that I'd have to do a lot of explaining to my girlfriend,) I know I don't want children. Not now, pretty much not ever. If I do go crazy enough to decide I want that kind of sacrifice and responsibility, I'll adopt a kid: there're way too many kids who need a home to be just bringin' more into the world, willy-nilly. So IF I were to get pregnant? I'd have an abortion. I've known that from the first time I contemplated third base. I don't presume to tell other women what they must do, and I'm unapologetic about the choice I would make.

The life of a living, breathing, thinking woman should top the rights of a bunch of cells using her for a life support system. Sorry, sounds harsh. But true.

Sexy Breakfast Foods

2008-11-30T11:46:00.000-06:00

So my everfabulous Ferret was itchy in some of her bodily parts the other day and asked me if I had anything to make her feel better. After the requisite eyebrow-wiggling on my part, I brought out the Holy Grail of lotions- Aveeno Fragrance-Free Daily Moisturizer. Having wildly sensitive, winter-itchy skin means I spent a LOT of time finding something soothing.

I spend a lot of time rubbing this stuff into my lower legs and making Herbal-Essence-commercial-y sounds.

My beloved asks me, "Is this stuff any good?"

"Oh yeah" say I, "it's for sensitive skin and has colloidal oatmeal in it".

She looks at me with utter confusion and asks, "So, like, they put the oatmeal in after it's had sex??"

...Oh my.

One discussion of the difference between colloidal and postcoital (and some lotion) later, the Ferret is enlightened, less itchy, and ready for bed.

But sometimes, not everything pisses me off. Sometimes, it's the little things that crack me up laughing that make me realize just how damn lucky I am, and that I do occasionally have real things to be thankful for.

....postcoital oatmeal! *still laughing*

Narrow, Reactionary and Judgemental

2008-11-27T22:49:00.008-06:00

And today, folks, I'm talking about me. Because I did something I've never done before: cut off someone who used to be a friend on a philosophical difference. And I feel like shit about it. I've always been of the opinion that if someone is a good friend, agreement isn't always necessary. I have a friends who disagree with me on politics, religion; I'm friendly with an ex who regards my feminist standpoints with (highly irritating) amusement; hell, even my Ferret doesn't see eye to eye with me on the importance of proper moisturizing. But we can work it out, it's cool.

The thing is, I also realized, being my friend also implies some inherent assumptions: you think I'm as good as everybody else, you think I'm fully human and worthy, and you care about my well-being.

And today, someone I thought was an IRL friend wrote a blog entry about Prop 8 and gay civil rights that smashed all those fragile and carefully-held assumptions I'd clung to so stubbornly, and it was just the end.

Let no one say I can't cite my sources for outrage. Here're some quotes:

"...LGBT's are gonna be shoving this down our throats for the next six months to a year until they get their way."

"I honestly don't care about same-sex marriage. It doesn't effect me, and if it were up to me, sure, let 'em enjoy all the trials and tribulations of marriage. Because life is just so much better when you do your taxes with your hump-buddy, and when breaking up involves a divorce lawyer on top of looking for an apartment and deciding who gets to keep the Barbara Streisand CD's."

"Like I said, I don't really care enough either way. What I disagree with is that they KEEP PUSHING FOR IT. ...Seriously. It's been denied in almost every state, in arenas both political and judicial, denied by the Supreme Court, Congress, and countless other institutions that this country's system of government relies on to make decisions. It's been proposed. In most cases, it's been shut down. Just move to Maryland and get over it."

:It's just part of the growing trend of "Things are only good if we (whoever we happen to be at the time) get our way" I see in this country. And I honestly see it as the beginning of the end of America."

Oh, and there's more. When I fired off a seriously angry reply (and he knew I would read it and reply), there was more. My reply wasn't exactly mature, thoughtful, and considered- observe my wrath.

"There is so much wrong with this entry I almost don't know where to start. But how about here: dumbass, "majority rules" isn't how our government actually works. If I hear one more asshole talk about 'judges legislating from the bench', I'll scream. Fucktard, the majority should not be allowed to decide on rights for minorities. For one, that's fucked up. Nobody should be allowed to decide someone's civil rights. For another, it never works; the majority is incapable of making decisions that benefit anything other than itself. "The majority" didn't end segregation. The Supreme Court did. And by the way, unless you are a member of an oppressed minority of second-class citizens- which you aren't- you don't have the fucking right to tell that group to get over it. ... Just because you've never experienced what they have, or don't understand it, doesn't mean it's invalid.

...Now, YOU are perfectly free to marry the person you love; hell, you can marry some random stranger in Vegas, as long as she has a vagina. But I can't marry the person I love. THAT is fucked up. A bunch of people who don't know me deciding whether I'm worthy enough to be treated like a whole human being? THAT is the beginning of the end of America. So no, getting over it ISN'T A FUCKING OPTION!, you libertarian asshole.
So yes, I am EXTREMELY pissed off at you for this. And hey, thanks for saying you "don't care" either way. That's real generous of you, pal. You know, you have gay friends, but you couldn't just be supportive of them, oh no. You had to be a complete dick about the lack of civil rights for a group you know nothing about. You're really not as astute as you think you are.
Shithead.

So yeah, lots of anger, but it doesn't mean I was wrong. And you'd think he wouldn't have the audacity to defend himself... nope. So this is my blog therapy, folks; I'm gettin' allll my rage out. Here's his reply, and OUR (double-barrelled) mean, angry blog-sponse to it. My comments are in blue, and in a wacky spurt of angry guest-blogging, please observe my Ferret's bitchy comments in yellow:

"Alright... let's cover ground I've covered before. You are not being denied a righ [sic].

Oh, well then! I feel much better now!

Wait a second: life liberty and the pursuit of happiness- you sure none of these rights are being violated?

You are bound by the laws of the country you live in.

Newsflash: not now nor ever has "law" and "good" ever been entirely synonymous.

In this country (in most states, anyway), Sodomy (defined as anal or oral copulation with a member of the opposite sex, copulation of any kind with the same sex, see above. and/or bestiality) is illegal.

Because straight couples get arrested for having anal or oral sex all the time.

Also, in this country, a marriage isn't considered to be legally viable unless it is consumated (involving copulation with one's partner).

Uh, how will they know? Big Brother is watching?

Thus, to legalize gay marriage, and to allow those marriages to be considered legally viable, every gay couple that got married would have to be fined or arrested under decency code laws. Or people would be allowed to marry their dogs.

Aw come on, not that bullshit again. Even the fundies have started to let go of that.

Exactly how many laws and/or world-wide recognized definitions of words do you want them to change just so you can file your taxes together?

Just the one, as far as I can tell.

Worldwide? Last I checked, Christianity (and its definition of marriage) rules less than a third of the human population.

The bottom line is, there are plenty of places in the world (and even a few in America) that gays and lesbians CAN get married, with all benefits thereof. Yeah? La-dee-fuckin-da. Blacks had their own drinking fountains, yet they weren't satisfied. Hmmm... Yeah, she's being nicer than I would.

"But I don't want to move, I want them to change the law everywhere." That doesn't seem in the least bit selfish to you?

Uh no, it seems like federal equality. Call me selfish. You mean, wanting my civil rights is selfish? How about you move instead? Like to Hell's Waiting Room.

Making phone calls, writing letters, and marching in parades takes little-to-no dedication. Moving to a different state (or in extreme cases, a different country) does.

Read as: "Move away, so I don't have to think about or be responsible to the people I'm helping to disenfranchise".

Wait, so I can try to change the law for everyone's equal rights, or just move? Which is easier again?

That is why Democracy is an inherently flawed system, and how it leads to a nation-state with the "gimmies". It no longer takes dedication, it takes finding enough people who agree with you to make the news (or to make lawmakers uncomfortable).

And that doesn't take dedication? As though all you have to do is go out and say, 'Hi. Sign this.' at random and suddenly all the laws change.

And you know we wouldn't want the poor lawmakers to be uncomfortable.

From there, it's just a series of "gimmies". Once the people realize that they don't have to leave their country to get a government they like, the ship is sinking fast.

Yeah, how dare people think America should have a government that treats everyone equally?

I'm sorry, I snoozed through that part. It sounded like "blah blah, blah blah, I'm always right, blah blah selfish welfare people, blah blah my penis blah". Did I miss anything?

And seriously, being treated like a "whole person"? Marriage is a tax break, nothing more. Uh, really? Are we using the same dictionary? If you need a piece of paper to tell you that you love the person you're with, there are a lot more problems than the political system here.

Someone graduated from Deliberately Obtuse University, with a major in Missing The Point.
Yes, there are other benefits to marriage, oh really?? ya think?? such as insurance policies that extend to one's spouse, undisputed legal entitlement to inheritance, etc. But those laws CAN be changed easily, and already have been in many states.

And HOW much in paperwork and legal fees does that require, again? While straights can just get a marriage license?

In most of the U.S. it's now possible to name a domestic partner, or ANYONE, for that matter, as a beneficiary.

Uh-huh. Sure, pal. Cause separate-but-equal has worked SO well in the past.
...
In closing, I've said it a thousand times before, but I'll say it again here: An unbiased opinion is the ONLY valid and viable opinion. [insert mad cackling laughter here] By being a member of a minority group, one's opinion on the treatement of that minority group is inherently and unavoidably biased.

Yes, because the majority's opinion of the treatment it receives is totally unbiased. Sounds like Fallacious Logic, 101.

A neutral party is the only one who can offer a clear-headed, unbiased opinion. Oh, like yours, you mean?

And like I've said, MULTIPLE times, if it were up to me, a neutral party,hey I was right, he did mean himself! gay marriage would be legal.

Oh, thank you! Cause I need your approval. No, really.

If it were up to me, a LOT of things in the legal system would be different. Carrot Top for President! But they're not.

Awww, come on. Nobody likes a pouter.

And they're the way they are because the legal system that defines this country has declared it as such.

Again with "law" always being the same as "the right thing". You gotta let go of that.

You get gay marriage when I get the right to kill drug dealers. Getting married and playing God aren't the same. Sound fair?

No, not really. What did that have to do with anything?

And you're right, I do have gay friends.

Well, you have a few less after this post, I bet. Asshole.

I also have friends that do drugs, and think they should be legalized. I don't think the laws should be changed for them, either.

Did you just seriously compare gay marriage to drug use? Really? REALLY??

There's a difference between being supportive and changing your views on a subject simply because you're friends with someone who doesn't agree with you.

You're right. There is. But there's a bigger difference between not agreeing with someone and not understanding why they deserve the SAME friggin' civil rights as everyone else. So we can't be friends. I'm sorry.

I'm not!

Wow, this turned out to be a really long post. Congratulations, anyone who got to the end!

So, I'm feeling angry and guilty and maybe also angry about my guilt, and now I'm all typed out. Any thoughts?

Willie Nelson Can Spark My Pipe Anytime

2008-11-25T13:14:00.004-06:00

Okay, I know, that's SO disturbing. BAD Lemur.

I was watching Colbert's Christmas Special on Comedy Central (yes, I know, more bad). But there was a section with Willie Nelson as the Fourth Wise Man- you know, the one who brought the "most fragrant gift of all" to the Baby Jesus. And then he sang a song about peace, love, and mari-ja-wanna! I can't help but love a song that includes the line "/and let not mankind bogart love".

Also, Willie still sounds really damn good. Sing it, man, sing it!

So ya know what? I enjoyed it. I got love for Willie.

And I've got love for you guys out there in cyberspace. I know Thanksgiving is a screwed up American tradition (just ask a few million dead Indians), and I know sometimes it ends up with the cranberry sauce splattered all over the walls and your drunk uncle face-down in the green bean casserole. (Or maybe that's just my family. Anyway.) At its best, Thanksgiving is a time to come together with your family, biological or chosen... and also for three kinds of pie (maybe that's just us, again).

Love to you guys, and if you're the type to have a little something beforehand to make the turkey- or the tofurkey- taste even better, more power to ya.

Happy Thanksgiving, and don't bogart the love.

My Letter to Obama

2008-11-23T12:49:00.002-06:00

So I wrote a letter to our new President-Elect. I don't know whether it will be answered or even whether it will be read, but I had to write it. So here it is, because it made me cry, because it's my own personal teaspoon, and because even if Obama doesn't read it, I want someone to. I need hope.

Dear President-Elect Obama,

I could be writing to you about a lot of things. I'm a small-business owner, and I could be writing to you about corporate monopolies in America. I'm a gay woman who can't marry her partner in this state, and I could be writing to you about that. And maybe I will write about those things one day, but not today. Today I'm writing to you about my brother. He's 18 years old and will be 19 the day after Christmas. He's in the Air Force, an Airman fresh out of boot camp. He went in right after his high school graduation. I'm so proud of him, and I'm also worried. You see, at the end of January, he's being stationed in Moody, Georgia. It's what they call a "shipping-out" station. It's very likely that he'll be sent to Iraq or Iran.

My brother is younger than I am and for many years he annoyed me to distraction, because that's how younger siblings are. But he's older now, and we're in different states; only one of my mother's kids is home with her in Florida now. She misses us, I know, but she wants us to do what we love. And he does love his job, loves the Air Force. Whenever I speak to him, he's happy. He's not worried about the future, because he's 18, and like every other teenager, deep down he thinks he's invincible.

He wants to come home with a jacket full of medals, marry his girlfriend, and become a police officer. And I want that for him. I don't want him to have to spend any more Christmases away from home. I don't want my mother to cry at night because she's afraid of what will happen to him over there, whether he's in a high-casualty zone or not. I love my kid brother, and I'm proud as hell of him, and I don't care if he comes home with medals. I just want him to come home.

Mr. Obama, I voted for you. A lot of people voted for you because we, and I, think you are indeed the hope and change this country has needed so desperately for so long. You have my support, the support of my business, and the support of my blog, even though right now they're both small and unimportant. I'm very glad you will be our next President, and so are a lot of other people all over the country.
But now that you've achieved your dream, you have a sea of people standing in front of you, asking you to help achieve their dreams, and I guess I'm no different. It's not a bad dream, not a bad wish, I think. It's this; I don't want my brother to go overseas. I don't want him to get hurt or killed in this stupid, dishonest conflict. I don't want him to have to know how it feels to take a life, either. Not for this, not for someone else's greed and bad decisions.

Sir, I know you're not all-powerful, and I know you have a hard task ahead of you. But if you're taking requests, this is mine: End this conflict. Please. Bring these soldiers home. Do everything you can, because even though he's just one guy in a uniform, one Airman among many, my brother is irreplaceable. And all of these men and women have sisters, mothers, someone at home who loves them. Someone who is worried and crying and writing them letters and waiting for them to come home, like me.

-[Sabertooth Screaming Lemur]
screaminglemur.blogspot.com

SNTDBIDW: Blamin' the Black Folks

2008-11-17T17:15:00.003-06:00

I co-opted the title of this post from one of my favorite concepts at Shakesville: Shit Not To Do Because It Doesn't Work, a PortlyDyke creation.

Have you guys seen this? Renee sounds a little annoyed, and I don't blame her. It seems that a lot of folks in the liberal blogosphere- GLBT and feminist and both- are blaming the seemingly large amount of POCs in Cali that voted The Suckiest Prop Ever into being. Apparently ALL black people are this huge monolithic hivemind (like feminists) and apparently there are NO gay black people. Oh and NO black Republicans, or Evangelicals that just happen to be black, or... yeah. See?

C'mon, guys. Not cool. Can we stop? I know, this Prop is the most awful thing I've come across in my (admittedly short) political-watching career, and I know laying blame is a really attractive thought. Hell, this is so fucked up, I wanna blame SOMEbody. I'm trying really hard not to go find the nearest Mormon and slap 'em, since the Church of JC of LDS in Utah financed a big chunk of this.

But I'm trying to remember that all the members of a certain group cannot be held responsible for what some or even most or its members choose to believe or do. Once we start working that way, how are we any better?

I want us- LGBTs and allies, black or white or whatever you are- to keep our sense of community and our sense of hope. Turning on each other does us no good, especially now when hope and morale are low. It's the last thing we need.

Are we done? Can we all start picking up pieces for the next round of fighting for our rights now?

More Fuzzy Blogging

2008-11-16T23:46:00.000-06:00

So... the cat, a few weeks ago, caught a mouse. Admittedly, she needed a practice run first. (The practice run involved grabbing a mouse that was already caught in a trap and bringing it- trap still included- downstairs to play with.)

I know, this is a small thing, right? She caught a mouse. Mice die all the time. But still. I wasn't sure how I felt about it. Life is precious, even a mouse's life. Also, have you ever stepped on a mouse corpse at 5 am when you get up to pee? The correct wording in that situation is "Ack!"

But I know I prefer cats to traps, if mice must perish. And I don't know why except it seems like cats are more fair. Cats are meant to catch mice. Traps are these inanimate objects we bait with cheese and then- snap! It's too convenient. Cats catching- and theoretically eating- mice is part of How Things Are, that traditional mindset that influences the way we live because It's Always Been Done This Way. Usually this is bad. Is it bad this time? Or is cats and mice part of the balance to be maintained? Is this compatible with my beliefs? Should I praise Haven's hunting skills or scold her for violence? Mice must die so that she may live.

And so they don't poop everywhere and nibble the entire house to pieces. In a house with mice, cats are necessary.

Am I being hypocritical because I don't want to think of Haven as a fluffy little killer?
...Well, maybe.

That conclues this week's Incoherent Random Posting!

To Say Thank You

2008-11-14T17:09:00.003-06:00

So I'm taking another break from my break to write, again, about something I feel is important. I'm hopeful that this may indicate an end to my blog-reluctance, and that I'll start posting regularly again soon, for all five of you that missed me.

But this isn't about me. I know, everything's about me- but this time, it's not. It's about Melissa McEwan, founder of Shakesville, the most awesome liberal blog ever. I mean it. It's a safe space and a community of diverse, insightful, brilliant bloggers. It's also the place to find YouTubery, random funny stuff, and blistering commentary about social justice and politics.
Because of this, it gets a lot of shit, both from trolls and from its commenters, because liberals, not being brainwashed, can't do a damn thing without dissent and argument.

And Melissa has to deal with all of it. Running that blog is a full time job, and she does it. And she doesn't get paid for it. She deals with trolling and sniping and bullshit that would make me chuck my laptop out a third story window after a day or two, and she writes at least one post every day, besides commenting and moderating on the other threads. And she does it all while building a sense of community and progress.
She deserves a lot of appreciation for what she does every day, and there've been some difficulties over there lately.
So I did what I never, ever do for anybody online- I clicked over to the "Donate" button. I know, it's no big deal, but it is to me. It was my first time ever donating to a blog, but it was highly deserved and if I had more I'd have given more. I don't have a lot of money, but hopefully my little bit will help to let Melissa know that her efforts don't go unnoticed in this corner of the Net.

So what I'm saying is, if you read and enjoy Shakesville, you might consider clicking the little button on the sidebar also. It's surprisingly painless.
If you don't read Shakesville, what the hell are you waiting for!?

The Good, the Bad, and teh Gay Rights

2008-11-05T10:02:00.006-06:00

I'm taking a break from this break to post about the elections and all that jazz. First, Obama yay! I'm so happy and so relieved. I don't have to move to Canada! AND I live in a house full of Republicans. I was doin' the Happy Dance!

Now the bad... Prop 2 passed in FL. This isn't going to be good for anyone. Gays, straight couples just living together, elderly "roomates"... I'm hoping this shit gets overturned because it's ridiculous.

And also, it's looking like Prop 8 in Cali is going to pass as well. And I don't get it. How can you take someone's rights away? Does this mean all the gay marriages done there in the past year are null and void? How can people do this?

...But at least we have a Democratic president. I have hope. I have hope, now- that these things, as fucked-up as they are, are just temporary setbacks on the road to equality and total citizenship.

Yeah, Conservos, fear my fuckin' agenda. I wanna marry my partner and have some health insurance, maybe buy a house. We might even... get a dog. Shit yeah, your marriage is in trouble now- we're fuckin' it up for you, just by being so damn GAY and CUTE and shit.

Sorry... had a cranky moment. Okay, I'm going back on vacation for a while now. My Ferret is in need of some hugs. Okay, folks, do the happy dance, rejoice, and get Obama's feet in the fire on getting us our rights! ...Oh, and read this poem, from one of the posters at Shakesville- it's all hopeful-like. We need some more hope.

Sometimes by Sheenagh Pugh

Sometimes things don’t go, after all,

from bad to worse. Some years, muscadel

faces down frost; green thrives; the crops don’t fail.

Sometimes a man aims high, and all goes well.

A people sometimes will step back from war,

elect an honest man, decide they care

enough, that they can’t leave some stranger poor.

Some men become what they were born for.

Sometimes our best intentions do not go

amiss; sometimes we do as we meant to.

The sun will sometimes melt a field of sorrow

that seemed hard frozen; may it happen for you.

Uhhhh...

2008-10-28T12:50:00.003-05:00

Sorry to anyone currently reading. I know there's been a definite lack of updates. There's been a lot of stuff going on, much newness-that-needs-to-be-adjusted-to, and also sickness-that-I-need-to-get-over.
So, because of that, and because I haven't been on my game lately, blogwise, I'm taking a short hiatus. Probably just for a couple weeks. I started this blog, and I love doing it, but all of a sudden I'm putting this pressure on myself to be a successful blogger, and write posts that people want to read, instead of just stuff I want to write. And that kinda freaked me out too, the pressure. Even self-pressure. Yeah, I'm kinda dumb sometimes. Life is this series of mini-freak-outs, and then constantly getting myself back together.

I'll be back.

Dear Hollywood

2008-10-14T13:00:00.002-05:00

...Can we, pretty please, just once, have a movie where an unexpectedly pregnant woman actually gets an abortion?

I know it's too much trouble to ask that she not be horribly scarred for life by it.

But seriously, mainstream movie guys... could you ignore the "choice" part of pro-choice a little more? I can't hear you out there in delusion-land. Everything in the movies can be resolved happily in under two hours.

In real life, though, there's usually no deus ex machina to save the day for a woman with very few resources and not enough options.

Could we maybe have some art actually imitating life, please? I know realism is too much to ask from you, Hollywood, but it'd be great if you could manage to let go of the fantasy and take one step closer to showing the world how it really is.

Both Woo and Hoo!

2008-10-10T13:10:00.002-05:00

Conneticut has legalized same-sex marriage!

Connecticut’s Supreme Court ruled Friday that same-sex couples have the right to marry, making that state the third behind Massachusetts and California to legalize such unions.

The divided court ruled 4-3 that gay and lesbian couples cannot be denied the freedom to marry under the state constitution, and Connecticut’s civil unions law does not provide those couples with the same rights as heterosexual couples.

This rocks my queer socks! Hooray for love, equality, and Connecticut gay folks! Yay for CT Supreme Court! Social Justice-flavored ice cream for everyone!

...Read about it here, here, and here. Oh, and here's an actual article.
h/t Cara

Green Skin Optional

2008-10-09T13:36:00.000-05:00

As I was saying, I hate the reducing of an important part of history and culture to an opportunity for yet more cheap commercialism. I fucking hate it with a fiery passion, and with this holiday it's personal.

Witches are a big part of the imagery of Halloween; hell, lots of girls dress up as a witch at some point. But honestly? I find it to be as stereotypical and lazy as putting on some buckskin and a feather headband and calling yourself an "Indian" for Halloween. It's othering, it's tired, and frankly it annoys me. Am I being "too PC"? Am I spoiling your Halloween fun? Yeah, I don't care. The next stupid 'witch' image I see is gonna send me running for the hills; I just can't get away from them. Toss-up whether it'll be of a "sexy witch" in a black minidress or a "spooky witch" with green skin and warts.

I'm a witch. I'm a Wiccan. They're not the same, just so you know.
And would you believe it? I don't ride a broomstick. I don't own a cauldron, or turn people into frogs (although that might be kinda cool), or have green skin (who the hell has green skin, anyway?), or wear a pointy hat. I have a cat, but she's not black.

I have no problem with "mainstream Halloween". Holidays are important for a reason. They're part of the culture that shapes us, and that's a big deal. Also, who doesn't love an excuse to party? It's fun, and maybe someone occasionally thinks about the 'why' behind the costumes and candy- anything that sparks intellectual curiosity can't be too bad. The problem I have is with throwing on a tired stereotype because it's easy or because it came with a short skirt. There are so many things to be, can we please just kind of retire this one thing? I promise the mummies won't revolt, nor will Frankenstein's monster, nor the Wolfman, if scary's what you're after. Vampires are still up for grabs, even.

Seriously, before you go out dressed as a witch for Halloween this year, totin' your broom and wearing your pointy hat, think about it. Think about how offensive you'd say it was to do this to say, Asians, or POCs- yeah, some idiots still think "blackface" is funny. It's maybe not quite as asshole-tastic, but it's a matter of degree, in my opinion. You aren't a witch, a Spanish senorita, or a Japanese geisha (unless you actually are), so why appropriate these images for this one day, instead of doing something creative? Hell, you could be the sexiest mustard bottle ever.

Think about it. And think about the very angry lecture I will give you, should I happen to see you dressed as a witch.

Chocolate and Dead People

2008-10-07T12:14:00.004-05:00

We take a break from our regularly scheduled feminist snark to bring you: Wicca snark!
The lovely SublimeFemme was asking about my Halloween plans and while they do include pumpkin carving and trick or treating with my little sibs-in-law (henceforth known as Thing Red and Thing Dino), they also include my Samhain-night ritual.

For those who're pagan-challenged, Samhain (usually pronounced SOW-in or SAH-vin, but please, not Sam-hayne) means "end of summer", and is the end of the pagan year. It's also known as All Hallow's Eve. It occurs on either October 31st or November 1st. It's a night for celebrating the final harvest, acknowledging the dark half of the year, and if communicating with spirits is your thing, it's a night for that too. It can be rowdy as hell or a solemn ritual, or both.
I don't know if you know this, but a lot of Halloween traditions come from this festival. It was a night for frightening away evil spirits with faces carved into turnips, for lighting bonfires to warm the dead or scare them away, for slaughtering the last of the livestock for winter storage and gathering the last crops (any left after this day were considered the property of the dead, and left in the fields).

Why am I explaining all this? Because it struck me that they don't teach the history of Halloween in most schools, and most people get their information from candy companies and scary movies. Oh, and Disney. And I hate the reducing of an important part of history and culture to an opportunity for yet more cheap commercialism. This is also something very personal and important to me, and it's my blog, dammit.

So now you know. We have treats, jack-lanterns, costumes, bonfires, and tricks because some dead Celtic guys didn't want to deal with a bunch of pissed off ghosts on this one night of the year. Well, sort of.
More on Wicca, Halloween, and stuff later, here at "things that piss me off dot com"!

My Un-Professional Take on Last Night's Debate

2008-10-03T10:58:00.007-05:00

I couldn't watch too much of last night's debate- my almost-dad-in-law was watching too. Since we're on opposite sides of the political spectrum, I think it would've disturbed him to hear me yelling "IT'S 'NU-CLEE-AR'! SAY IT RIGHT! LEARN TO TALK, YOU FREAKIN' HICK MORON!", along with the other choice things I might've said that aren't appropriate...at the top of one's lungs... in a house where children reside... and were at that point sleeping.

If you want an actual (and funny) opinion on the debate, I recommend Melissa from Shakesville's article in the Guardi an.

All I have for you is this nifty flow chart I yoinked off the internet from addenak.com., after I cleaned tea off the keyboard (what? It's funny!).

One other thing: Biden did say he and Obama would support same-sex couples having all the same Constitutional rights and benefits as hetero couples. Finally. So, I'm cautiously optimistic about that. At least he gave a straightforward answer, and Palin... well, watch and cringe. Queers United has a post up about it with a video showing both Biden and Palin's reply to that question.

Sarah Anti-Sexism PSA: We don't have to make fun of her looks, her family, or anything having to do with the fact that she's female. The amount of fail she brought to the debate was pretty much enough. So please remember, when you crack on Palin, do it for the right reasons.

Sorry kids, that's all for today.

h/t Shakesville for the flowchart and Melissa's article.