January 2009 Archives

Via just about every other feminist blog in the universe, but Feministe really.

So, there's this animal right's group that are quite high profile, generally for all the wrong reasons. They insist on using degrading and/or sexualized images of women, in an attempt to get people to stop eating meat. Sometimes also any animal products; in other words, to go vegan. Though they seem to be focusing on going veggie just now, but anyway. It's quite obvious why they're doing this; they're buying into the supposed sexual liberation of women and using it to attract the attention of heterosexual men. I'd say young, for the most part, because it's pretty difficult to get older people to change their eating habits. And because they're all about teh mehnz, they're selling women down the river. It's not OK to cage an animal, but a woman? Meh. She chose to get into the cage, she's liberated, she's free!

But not really.

The patriarchy and the culture built on it are a gilded cage for those who stay within its confines. It's not much choice if it's presented as your only one; little girls are indoctrinated with the notion that they must be pretty, they must be sexual, they must do whatever it takes to be attractive to men. And the only way to appeal to men to make more ethical choices about what to eat? Women in sexy* undies.

This group appear to be labouring under the impression that all publicity is good publicity. It's not going to accomplish their goals. If their spurious Superbowl ad actually turned anyone vegetarian, I would be surprised. I would, in fact, eat my (acrylic) wool hat.






*sexy to some, at least, but not all. Say, like gay men...

Mr. Herbert is a columnist for the New York Times. And just frakkin' awesome.

See?

(If the context is lost on you, read this post from Feministe.)

Chris Matthews, on the other hand, is just weird and pointless.

I would say that he forms a part of my feminist-admiration-triumverate that also includes Rachel Maddow and Hillary Clinton.

Why do people being investigated for rape and sexual assault get bailed? I'm thinking specifically of the man who recently was caught in France with a teenaged girl. He was on bail after being questioned about the alleged rape of another teenager. Being bailed is usually an indication that it is not believed that the person in question will commit another crime. And yet, I seem to read about a lot of men (mostly) being bailed after being accused of raping or assaulting someone. There was a mighty stink last year in Pariament when a policeman who had murdered his wife was released on bail, then went and killed his mother-in-law and himself.

I would love to find out about rates of bail for different types od crimes, and the rates of offending while bailed.

So, Blogger started doing that 'Blogs I Follow Thing' and I have added a few, and 4 nice people have added me. Not saying those who haven't aren't nice, by the way, just that these people are. I've read their blogs, see. I have to admit, that I've only just stared using it as a portal to other blogs recently. Clicking on one follower, then the blogs they follow, I have found a handful of other facsinating blogs and have added them on to my reader. Two notable recent additions are by other people struggling with mental health issues, written with wit and verve, and Smashing Pumpkin lyrics as post titles in one. Blank Page, to be specific; a beautiful song about never being able to really regain what's lost. (I hope that the author doesn't mind me linking to such a person aposting directly.) Also; to the blog of a transgendered woman who I am already familiar with via The F Word*; Bird of Paradox. I find it much easier to get into someone else's personal blog via someone who I am familiar with, otherwise I feel a bit like I'm intruding into someone else's space. Following/Followers is something I feel more comfortable with, a bit like making friends with friends of my friends, instead of total strangers. Am I making sense? Do other people apply the rules of real life to the interwebs like I do? Is it obvious that I wold really like someone to comment on something? Please? It works now! Give me love!!!?


*ok, so the irritation I previously felt with the F Word was actually more with attitudes and beliefs expressed by one contributing individual. I respect her right to hold her opinions, even if I think she's wrong about some things, and as Ruth said (more or less) previously, I shouldn't give up on the whole thing just because of one irritation. I still think they could be more representative of the rest of the UK, but I understand at the same time that they have to be told what else is going on elsewhere and that they would talk about Scottish issues etc more, if they knew about them. And The F Word is still much better than Feministing, in my book. Not that Feministing doesn't have its place, just not on my reader feed.

Something's happened in the grand changeover and the Post A Comment link is broken. Bugger bugger buggerbuggerbuggernuts.

And I know you were all so desperate to share your 10 random songs, too...

5 fraught minutes later...

Turns out it was a problem with blogger and trying to embed comments below the post. Back to the old friend, the pop-up window... Comment away, me hearties!

According to the BBC, for sexual abuse to be considered such, it has to have started before the victim turned 11. After that, it's not abuse, it becomes 'sex'. I'm not just pulling this out of my arse, I promise you.

Read this article - Man jailed for young girls abuse. A clunky headline, 'Man jailed for abuse of young girls' would work better for me, but that's probably just semantics. Anyway. This man abused one girl for 7 years, starting from when she was 4. So, she was 11 when he finally stopped. The BBC have, rightly, termed that as abuse. The other girl, he molested when she was 10. And they also label that abuse, again rightly so. 7½ years for 7 years of abuse seems like a frankly pathetic sentence, but I'm getting worryingly jaded to paltry sentences being imposed for these crimes.

So, from this brief article, we can infer that sexual contact with young children = abuse/molestation. And that (obviously) is BAD.

Now, read this article - Man admits sex with 14-year-old. Very clear headline. One big ol' problem with it, though. A 42-year-old (or any male over 16) cannot 'have sex' with a 14-year-old in the eyes of the law. He can, however, rape her. It doesn't matter whether she gave consent; lawfully someone under 16 can't. It doesn't matter if he gave her money and phone credit. I don't really know why the author of this article felt the need to include that. It's not as if doing that in any way negated the fact that he was doing something illegal. And it continues; this is a more complex case it would seem. This man had already abused two other girls (and it is actually described as abuse), molesting one over 5 years; exposing himself to the other and then "later had sex with" her, something that took place over the course of 4 years. She would have been about 16 when it finally ended; that still makes it abuse. I can understand that, you can understand that. The law makers understand that; which is why the legal age of consent here is 16 and that is why this man was facing charges in court and not just a divorce from his wife for infidelity.

So what is it about the difference between sex and abuse that the BBC (or this specific reporter, who couldn't just publish an article without it being check over first) just doesn't get?

Time for a Friday random 10, don't you think? My iPod is always on shuffle. Here's the first 10 that it's come up with just now... Go on, you know you want to; put your 10 in comments! Even if you don't want to, actually. I'd really like to know what other folks listen to.

1. Danger! High Voltage - Electric Six
2. Never Learn To Cry - The Rogers Sisters
3. Doing Alright With The Boys - Joan Jett and the Blackhearts
3. I Wanna Know What Love Is - Julie Ruin
4. Karma Police - Radiohead
5. Constipated - Weird Al Yankovic
6. Excuse Me John - Shakespear's Sister
7. Mr. Sandman - The Puppini Sisters
8. A Thousand Kisses Deep - Leonard Cohen
9. Motorcycle Emptiness - Manic Street Preachers
10. Girl All The Bad Guys Want - Bowling for Soup (which, on reflection, could be interpreted as having a Nice Guy™ narrative)

Right, I think I'm finished with changing the blogger template. I need a good, stiff drink and I have some cherry coke in the fridge, chilling quietly. I don't know my HTML from my HEX from my... my... something I don't know, anyway, so my head feels like my ears were meeting in the middle. Thank goodness my (not-actually-a-shithead) husband does know how to work these things, so supplied crucial guidance with the tough bits. Whoduvthunk changing the background colour would be so difficult?

You might notice things look a little different here. Or maybe not, if you've never visited me before. Anyway. Things aren't quite done yet, but it's 1.20am, I'm tired and have to be up in the morning, so things will change some more, hopefully tomorrow. But already, doesn't it feel brighter and happier? I hope so, anyway. 

So. I suppose that you could say that I've had a sort of an epiphany. It's been on my mind a lot recently, and I think I've mentioned it before, but something feels different inside me now. And I know I'm making no sense.

Yeah, I know some folks are trying to pooh-pooh the excitement, and be all ominous about the mah-hooooooooo-sive task ahead for the Obama administration (perenial favourite Melanie Philips being one such example. Seriously, how can that woman function in wider society? Or does she just live in the Daily Male offices, or perhaps a bunker underneath?) but fuck it. This moment can never happen again. Same as every other moment, sure, but this one is special. Hope, that which makes us so human, is a powerful force. It defies logic and withstands all attacks. Only over the next 4 years will the world see if that hope is well placed. Also, not only is Bush gone, he's been replaced with someone who is basically the opposite.

I think I've posted this before, but it's been on my mind again. And it feels appropriate just now. The situation with Ken... it's complicated. It's too early to say what's going to happen, but he says he loves me, I believe him. I love him, as much as ever. The best way I can describe his leaving is that he ran away. The situation that we were living in wasn't good for either of us, he felt that he had to leave. I have been in similar situations before. And if I had been the one with a plane ticket, I might have disappeared too. The underlying problems that we both had, individually, were never dealt with and they impacted on both of us. I am still very hurt by the abrupt departure and when I think of it, I still feel that pain in my chest. Hopefully that will subside, just as Ken's fear of my temper will hopefully subside too. One of the reasons he didn't tell me that he was leaving is because the last time he did, I flipped completely. I broke things, I threw things, I screamed at him. And I only have to think about the fire extinguisher to want to curl up under the desk and die of shame.

While fishing in Orgrimmar, getting Zither's skill up to 60, Murky and Gurky did their little dance. I saw it once before, and only a little bit of it. Today, the whole thing and both of them. (The video's on Murky; Gurky's pretty much the same but pink. In fact, despite not feeling much interested in the whole thing, I think I'll still enter the Valentine's competition as the winners get a Gurky.) 

A random download from eMusic this one; Glittering Cloud by Imogen Heap. The video's someone's homemade thing, it's better than the other offerings available.



Across The Universe, covered by Fiona Apple. From the movie Pleasantville with I would suggest watching, if you haven't. Unless you have a rabid dislike for Tobey MacGuire or Reese Witherspoon. In which case, I would suggest swallowing that down and watching it anyway. It has William H. Macy in it! And wossisname in his last role before he died. You know the one I mean. First initial, second initial, surname. I know I could find it on Wikipedia, but maybe later.

And Soon We'll Be Found by Sia. Embedding is disabled, but follow the link. It's yet another beautiful video. Watch the Breathe Me one too, to see what I mean.

I feel sick. Whenever I think about what's happening, my stomach lurches. I have been in email contact with Ken, and it's been more civil than when we first spoke on the phone at 2am.  I still love him. I still want him to come back. I was 100% commited to making the relationship work. I still want to try; I don't want to give up now, because the depression will have won. Game over. I don't know what to do. And I feel very stuck, because I don't know what Ken wants. 

Ken is avoiding me. I need to ask him a few things, much as I needed to ask Ben what happened when he cheated on me. I also need to find out how to start divorce proceedings. Ken has more experience than I do, on that one. But he's avoiding me. He did say, at some point, that if he left again, I would not hear from him again. Which goes to show how much the marriage meant to him; he totally forgot about it and it's being a legally binding contract. But he won't answer his phone. No doubt, he's sleeping as I don't think he slept much last night, but fuck that. I want this sorted out as soon as possible. I have enough to be dealing with without a vanished husband who's acting like he's 3. 

Two things that made me laugh in the last five minutes:
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Our neighbour, through the wall I'm facing just now as I type (it's behind the monitor), was found dead yesterday. I had spoken with the neighbour the other way about him earlier in the afternoon; there was a terrible smell in the close and we had, by process of elimination, figured that it was coming from his flat. At that point, we figured it was probably a backed up sewage outlet; the smell was very rotten-fishy, with a bit of glue and a hint of wet dog. Really not nice at all. Except, it wasn't a sewage outlet. Our neighbour was last seen on Hogmanay, and had had the heating on because of the recent cold weather. What we were smelling was the smell of decomposition, accelerated by the heating. I feel a little queasy thinking about it, and it's a smell that gets into things; after spending 15-20 minutes talking to our other neighbour out in the close yesterday, I had to strip off what I'd been wearing because it permeated everything. I won't forget it in a hurry. It's hard to describe how I feel about this just now; I didn't know the guy - we'd exchanged greetings once, maybe twice. It's a bit horrible to think that he was lying there, as little as a few feet away, for up to the last 2 weeks. He had three children, and seemed like an OK guy; no angel but hardly a murderer. It's sad to find out about someone who lives right next to you, and your other neighbours, in this way. 

To WoW or not to WoW, that is the question... Whether 'tis nobler to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune (and Ally hunters) and I've forgotten the rest of the line because we did MacBeth, Romeo and Juliet and The Merchant of Venice at school, not Hamlet. And anyway, I always preferred Twelfth Night and The Tempest. Alas, alack.

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OK, so it's not strictly connected to my big change for this year, but it's was in today's ICHC feed, so...

The BBC have announced the new actor to play Dr. Who and in doing so have shown that they're still convinced that people who watch it can't cope with someone neither black nor female playing the role. The old stereotype of it being a show for socially inept white male sci-fi fans has kind of been blown out of the water, though all the related marketing gubbins are aimed at boys front and centre. The BBC even made a point of saying 'him or her' in a statement that I read in the paper earlier, but has vanished because the announcement was made earlier this evening. Also, Matt Smith doesn't half look like Crispin Hunt of Longpigs. Anyway. I think the world's ready for a black man... Still, it's not going to bother me too much on a regular basis; not having a TV and the BBC iPlayer refusing to work for me means that I don't watch broadcast television. I'd much rather Ken downloaded Fraiser and the new Battlestar Galactica (yes, I'm very late to this party, but damn it's good!) instead. 

Why do I still read The F Word? It niggles me now end that they claim to represent 'comtemporary UK feminism' and fail to mention things happening outside London for the most part. They also fall foul of pretty much the same thing as Feministing (I have no idea why the feed from there is still showing up in the RSS feed here; I'm sure I removed it about a month ago!); that they are middle-class, predominantly white young women. As far as I'm aware, the majority of their contributers are in their 20s. Contemporary means 'with/of the time'. It doesn't mean 'young'. Sometimes, they mention interesting things, sure. But some of the writers seem to make the assumption that their opinions are the only valid ones, and sometimes I feel like the whole blog is dedicated to self-congratulatory circle jerking. The straw that broke the camel's back in this case was an article posted about the couple in India who claim to be the world's oldest parents at 70 and 72. If, like me, the BBC video refuses to work, here's a print article instead. Ignore the comments; it's the Torygraph after all.