I Watch TV

So in stunning news, I watch TV! This TV-watching doesn't just include educational things like MSNBC, the History Channel (a favorite of Ferret, actually), or the Bran Network. I watch cartoons, oh yes I do. Among others, I watch Chowder, and Spongebob, and Phineas and Ferb. Now what do these shows have in common? Well, the first two were both worked on by the same guy, C. H. Greenblatt. (Yes, that's his real name. He also worked on The Grim Adventured of Billy and Mandy, which I also LOVE.)

Anyway, that AND! They are some of my favorties to watch. They are all lots of fun and not too think-require-y and generally not problematic in terms of the messages or ideas behind the storylines. They usually have good messages or (in the case of Chowder) are so cool to look at that I don't care that the message is something like "Don't fill up your boss's kitchen with a family of fart-clouds". Don't ask.

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

But alas, guess not.

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

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

-Spongebob: Likable. Happy. Naive. The star of the show. Loves being a fry-cook, weirdly.

-Patrick: Likable, sort of. Very, very stupid. The literal star(fish).

-Mr Krabs: Crusty and really stingy, but sometimes sympathetic.

-Squidward: A squid, Spongebob's neighbor. Not likable. At all.

-Sandy Cheeks: Her name is a pun. Ha, ha. She's a literal outsider (a squirrel, underwater). She is shown as being smart, usually. Also a tough, athletic karate expert, which is refreshing. Unfortunately, she is in less episodes than, say, Squidward.

-Mrs. Puff: Spongebob's long-suffering driving instructor. A widow. Not a main character, but the only other regular lady in the series, besides

-Pearl: Mr Krabs's incongruous whale daughter. Spoiled girly teenager <-- Gasp! I've never seen a teenage girl depicted as bratty and spoiled before!

-Plankton: The bad guy on the show. Shouts a lot, and is really small. Has some issues, and I think this because of

-Karin: Plankton's wife, whom he made. Because she's a COMPUTER. Yeah. And every once in awhile he threatens to "unplug her" or "take her apart and build a new model" cause that's not creepy at all. <-- Wife as nagging and unsupportive.

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

-Chowder: Happy. Gluttonous. Inept and scatterbrained. Seriously, would rather eat than cook, and in later episodes, endangers everybody with stupidity.

-Mung Daal: Head chef. Not a bad cook, I think? Patient with Chowder. Married, but still loves "the ladies", who don't generally love him back, as he is not quite as irresistible as he thinks. <--Oh look! Gendered behavior!

-Truffles: Mung's wife. Small and irascible. Everyone in the kitchen is afraid of her. Often yells, especially at her husband. She's the receptionist; we don't see her cook. <-- This would be nice, except it's a catering company. So, yup, lady-as-secretary. Also, lady-as-bitch.

-Schnitzel: Rock monster, sous chef. Really strong, serious, and often aggravated by Chowder. Responsible and long-suffering. Only says "radda".

-Panini: Ms. Endive's apprentice. Competent cook (we assume), feminine and very aggressive. Better cook than Chowder (not that that's hard), but we rarely see her cook. Freakily obsessed with being Chowder's girlfriend. Chowder isn't interested, so of course she stalks him compulsively and calls him "Num-nums". She gets pretty scary. <-- Do I even need to go into detail?

-Ms. Endive: Not likable. Image-conscious. Probably a better chef than Mung, her rival, but we don't get to see her cook often. She's huge, and her size is often a joke. Kind of deranged. Lonely, but treats everyone so badly we see why she's so unpopular. Simultaneously hates men and longs for a relationship. <--Really?? Come on. It's been done, people!

-Gazpacho: Runs the fruit stand. Mung and Chowder are customers, friends, and apparently neighbors. Neurotic and socially awkward. Lives with his mother, who is implied in one episode to be a split personality of him, a la 'Psycho'. Not sure if this is canon, but we never see her. He talks a lot about 'Mother' and describes some pretty creepy things. <--Another dude henpecked by a lady, even if she is... him. Maybe.

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

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

-Phineas: Genius kid who has awesome ideas.

-Ferb: Genius kid who's quiet and knows how to build incredible things. The series revolves primarily around the crazy things these two build in their backyard every day of summer, despite the efforts of

-Candace: Their sister who's obsessed with 1)Getting them in trouble for their wacky inventions- meaning first getting their mother to believe her and 2)Her love-interest, Jeremy. <--Lady as spoilsport? Also, does crazy things for a man. Sigh.

-Stacy: Best friend to Candace. Kind of ditzy. Gives advice on shopping and boys. That's about all we see. <--Cause girls don't think about anything else! Unless of course they're

-Isabella: Smart, intrepid, goes on lots of adventures with Phineas and Ferb. Also adorably cute and infatuated with Phineas <--Aww, we were doing so well til that sentence! She's also the leader of

-The Fireside Girls: Mostly-unnamed (they're usually just shown as a group) and ethnically diverse troop of Girl-Scout types who are adventurous, smart and resourceful. Yay!

-Linda: Phineas and Candace's mom, who hides a past as a pop-star and goes around all day doing "mom" stuff. Doesn't seem to have a job. Never believes Candace and in fact, usually suggests she's crazy and mocks her behind her back. <--She's a mom, and that's about all we get.

-Laurence: Ferb's dad. British. Easygoing and a little loopy.

-Dr. Doofenshmirtz: Inept bad guy inventor out to take over the world, starting with "The Tri-State Area!" Played for laughs, definitely. Constantly thwarted by his battles with

-Perry the Platypus: Phineas and Ferb's pet platypus, who's actually a secret agent. Yeah, don't ask. It's funny though.

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

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

Facebook Is Insensitive.

In other news, water- still wet. So I was bored and taking quizzes on Facebook, and one of them was "What's your mental disorder?" My result was OCD. This was the quiz result text:

"You are an extreme stickler for things. Things have to be just the way you want them to be, but you can’t help it, it is just your crazy coming through. You may be some neat freak, very repetitive, or maybe you just can’t help but pull out 12 hairs every time you hear a train. Whatever it is, people tend to mistake you for being crazy, but guess what, you kinda are. And another thing, the world is not gonna end if you lighten up a bit."

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

Also, just because someone is a 'stickler' (who even says that anymore?), doesn't make them OCD.

So... how do real people with actual Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder feel about this quiz? I hear people making references to being "OCD" all the time, and it kinda bugs me. I feel like, for people who really have this disorder, that probably gets really old, really fast.

I hear "Oh, I'm just OCD!" by someone doing some random, overly neat or important-to-them little thing. I sometimes want to say, "No. You're not. You're neurotic, or perfectionist, or just plain weird. But arranging your hairclips by size doesn't mean you have a mental disorder. Shut up, already". I feel like it's up there with "That's so gay" as an annoying and inaccurate description of a vague negative that erases the people to whom it would actually apply. (Whew! That was a hell of a sentence!)

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

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

So I went to the Shakesville meet-up in Chicago yesterday. And do you know, it was a very long drive. I had such a good time, though; it was totally worth it. But Ferret had work this morning, so we had to drive back later that night. It was Not Fun. I don't recommend it.

But we had such a great time- putting faces to names, having good food and conversation, watching Giant Shark vs. Mega Octopus (no, really, I swear), and laughing so hard I almost fell over. Ferret wasn't really expecting to enjoy herself- she was all grouchy and sick and like "but I don't know anyone!" That all changed when some lurkers at our table broke out the Settlers of Catan game. She was all over that. Which made me happy that she was happy. So cute.

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

So many, people. And I am profoundly grateful to her for creating that place.

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

And I am so, so very out of it right now. Exhaustion blogging, wooooo!

I also wanted to add a PSA:

For those people who are dating Twilight fans- If she tells you she wishes you were more like Edward Cullen, this does NOT mean you should stalk her or attempt to control her life. (Unless she specifically asks you to do those things. Then yeah, get freaky.) What she probably means by this request is that she wants you to adopt a stupid hairstyle and frequently spout cheesy lines about how she's the center of your universe and how life is meaningless without her. You may also need to get some body glitter. (Disclaimer: Even if you do these things, she's probably not going to jump off a cliff if you dump her.)

If she says she's a Jacob fan, this is NOT an invitation to sexually assault her. Even if she doesn't punch you for it, her dad will probably not congratulate you when she tells him about it. She may mean she wants you to turn into a giant wolf, which means you will need to have A Serious Talk about either her preferences or her connection to reality. Good luck with that.

Movie Review (with extra parentheses)!

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

It's about a girl who wants to be an actress (of course) who lives with her obsessive Interpol agent dad (of course) in a New York townhouse (of course). She's blond (of course) and cute and perky (of course) and likes to inexplicably dance around in her skimpy pajamas before bed (of course) and gets her powers in a freak accident (this is Stan Lee, so of course).

I'ma make like the Count from Sesame Street here: "Seven! Seven trite tropes! Ah-ah-ah!" And that's just so far.

I won't even go into the inherent sexism, truly awful dialogue (maybe it works better on a comic book page), made-for-tv animation, and 1-dimensional characters.

Hell, I won't touch the 'heroine foils would-be rapists' scene that all superheroine movies apparently must include by law.

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

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

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

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

Please?

Like A Bad Horror Movie

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

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

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

"I just robbed a grocery store, /now I'm going to Disneyland

I just flipped off President George /I'm going to Disneyland!"

The song is about the fact that no one ever really knows how their day is going to go, or what they're really going to do next. We think we've got everything planned, and the next thing you know, you're drunk and cuffed in the back of a cop car outside a liquor store in Pasadena because you randomly fired a gun you don't even own. None of us ever really know the answer to the phrase "So, what are you going to do now?"

Me, I haven't got a fuckin' clue. I'm aiming for "Try not to wake up with insects up my nose", but you never know.

Hell, we might as well all go to Disneyland.

Tales of Child-Lemur Smartassery

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

"I pledge allegiance to my ass;

and the united states of bullcrap.

And to the republic, of eggs and ham;

one nation, under Bob;

invisible, liver free, with jetpacks for all!"

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

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

Brought To You By The Letter 'L'

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

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

Discuss!

Morning Breath

So this morning my grouchy Ferret was bitching about her new deodorant; apparently, it doesn't make her stink as nice as her old one. It's all boy-smell to me, but hey. She's bitch-and-moaning and I haven't had any coffee either.

"I don't like it", sounding like a two year old.

"Well, I didn't like choking on cock but I still gave head to guys for five years. Suck it up and deal with it!"

She stares at me for a sec and then goes to put on her shirt, muttering, "Not my fault you were a stubborn-ass bitch for five years."

I snark back "Yes it was!"

At which point she sputters for a few seconds and then gives up and puts her shoes on.

Aren't we charming in the morning?

Quote of the Evening

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

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

I [heart] Darwin.

Via comments at Shakesville.

Techno-Bitchy

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

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.

Lady-parts Surcharge

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

But that's not what this is about. This is about my thoughts on auto mechanics. My brother-in-law is young and not always very bright, and in a move of stunning brilliance, he put diesel in my emphatically non-diesel-drinking gas tank. My reaction to that was almost reality-show worthy, lemme tell ya. I love my car, like really. love. my car. I panic whenever anything happens to it.

So I finally gave up on draining the tank at home and decided to take it to a mechanic. I picked some local numbers and started dialing. 3 mechanics told me 3 to 4 hundred dollars, which gee, just didn't sound right. One of them tried to tell me I "needed" a new fuel pump. Yeah, I didn't. Finally I got one guy to give me an estimate that wasn't off the charts, and the day ended happily.

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

Sorry. Uh. Yeah. So my point is, do they do that? Or do mechanic prices really vary that much? Shouldn't there be some kind of guide for people who don't know what work should cost, like the Kelly Blue Book for car repair? Tell you what- first person to create that website, gimme 10 percent of the net and we'll call it good. We could make a fortune!

...No, you can't talk to my husband about it.

Very Very Random

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

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

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

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

I have been playing with useful things- have you heard of 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.

Bad Lemur, No Cookie

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

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

Well, there's always tomorrow.

Ink Link

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

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)

PSA: Lemur Worries

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. 

Sparkly Beef Humor

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!

Sexy Breakfast Foods

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*

Willie Nelson Can Spark My Pipe Anytime

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.