Wednesday, May 30, 2007
You Gotta Be Fucking Kidding Me.
This happened a while ago, but I haven't really had time to blog until today.
And. And. And. I am appalled. Absolutely appalled.
One of my friends from uni sent me a humourous link to an onion article lampooning the 'empowerment' term and what it means today. Empowerment used to mean something. It used to mean women overcoming great odds and obstacles to gain full control of their own bodies. It used to mean sticking their third fingers up at the patriarchy and saying "fuck you, I'm exercising complete socio-economic independence."
Well, the article my friend sent me basically went on and on about how women breathing, and walking to the park, and sticking their hands up in the air and crying out "you go girl!" with some Xena whoopee-ing thrown in is the new 'empowerment'. Which is to say, not. I had a good laugh about it, and suspect more than not that the article was satirising the new stripper-pole-breast-implants-schtick that is fed to us as 'empowerment'. (yeah, because making ourselves as fuckable as possible is NOT at all playing into the hands of the patriatchy.)
I really liked the article. I told my friend over MSN, "it's hilarious."
After a while I typed into the conversation window, "I bet the person who wrote that article is a feminist, or at least a pro-feminist."
And what does my enlightened friend say? Dear God, what does he say?
"have you heard of masculinim? shld check it out."
"yeah, I've heard of masculinism." I say, "I think it's regressive and reactionary.What do you think?"
"nah i think its a valid response to this whole guilt trip that feminists try to put on guys like as if all guys got nothing better to do then put down women. and always making us feel guilty. feminism is not limited to women, its abt equal rights, men can be for it too."
First off: I DO NOT HATE MEN. I do not think that men should be beaten up, raped, be subjected to domestic violence in the way that women are currently subjected to. Nor do I think women should be paid more than men for equal work (equal pay for equal work, I say). I do not advocate lesbian separatism, I do not advocate trading in a system that disproportionately burdens women for a for a system that disproportionately punishes men.
But what does my dear uni friend say? He thinks that feminism is a whole guilt trip put on men by crazy wacko feminists. Hey, way to make it all about you, hey? Way to put yourself in the centre of everything again, way to make men the default and women the, as De Beauvoir would put it, the second sex.
He goes on about how "as if all guys got nothing better to do then put down women". Well, newsflash, some men put down women all the time, and I would venture to say that all men put women down some of the time. (I would also say that some women put women down too, but that's a different story for another time)
And the the last part just kills me "feminism is not limited to women, its abt equal rights, men can be for it too." Men can be for it too. Can be for it too.
I love the way he makes it seem optional. Uni friend, I don't disagree with you. I would just change the word from 'can' to 'should', or to 'must'. Everyone human should, must stand for equal rights. Congratulations, you've stated the correct definition of feminism - for equal rights. Scratch the definition you put forward earlier - feminism is not a giant guilt trip for penis possessors.
And. And. And. I am appalled. Absolutely appalled.
One of my friends from uni sent me a humourous link to an onion article lampooning the 'empowerment' term and what it means today. Empowerment used to mean something. It used to mean women overcoming great odds and obstacles to gain full control of their own bodies. It used to mean sticking their third fingers up at the patriarchy and saying "fuck you, I'm exercising complete socio-economic independence."
Well, the article my friend sent me basically went on and on about how women breathing, and walking to the park, and sticking their hands up in the air and crying out "you go girl!" with some Xena whoopee-ing thrown in is the new 'empowerment'. Which is to say, not. I had a good laugh about it, and suspect more than not that the article was satirising the new stripper-pole-breast-implants-schtick that is fed to us as 'empowerment'. (yeah, because making ourselves as fuckable as possible is NOT at all playing into the hands of the patriatchy.)
I really liked the article. I told my friend over MSN, "it's hilarious."
After a while I typed into the conversation window, "I bet the person who wrote that article is a feminist, or at least a pro-feminist."
And what does my enlightened friend say? Dear God, what does he say?
"have you heard of masculinim? shld check it out."
"yeah, I've heard of masculinism." I say, "I think it's regressive and reactionary.What do you think?"
"nah i think its a valid response to this whole guilt trip that feminists try to put on guys like as if all guys got nothing better to do then put down women. and always making us feel guilty. feminism is not limited to women, its abt equal rights, men can be for it too."
First off: I DO NOT HATE MEN. I do not think that men should be beaten up, raped, be subjected to domestic violence in the way that women are currently subjected to. Nor do I think women should be paid more than men for equal work (equal pay for equal work, I say). I do not advocate lesbian separatism, I do not advocate trading in a system that disproportionately burdens women for a for a system that disproportionately punishes men.
But what does my dear uni friend say? He thinks that feminism is a whole guilt trip put on men by crazy wacko feminists. Hey, way to make it all about you, hey? Way to put yourself in the centre of everything again, way to make men the default and women the, as De Beauvoir would put it, the second sex.
He goes on about how "as if all guys got nothing better to do then put down women". Well, newsflash, some men put down women all the time, and I would venture to say that all men put women down some of the time. (I would also say that some women put women down too, but that's a different story for another time)
And the the last part just kills me "feminism is not limited to women, its abt equal rights, men can be for it too." Men can be for it too. Can be for it too.
I love the way he makes it seem optional. Uni friend, I don't disagree with you. I would just change the word from 'can' to 'should', or to 'must'. Everyone human should, must stand for equal rights. Congratulations, you've stated the correct definition of feminism - for equal rights. Scratch the definition you put forward earlier - feminism is not a giant guilt trip for penis possessors.
Labels: Feminism
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Neorealism... all the way!
Oh and to that person.. leave me the fuck alone, ok?
Oh and to that person.. leave me the fuck alone, ok?
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Ahhhh.......
Best Dream Ever. Ever!!!!
Considering the very last Best Dream I had involved dinosaurs, specifically velociraptors (actually, they were Deinonychus; Jurassic Park has screwed with our minds long enough!).
And the one before that involved grizzly bears and flying carpets.
In this dream, I met someone outside (funnily enough) Union House. I met someone who told me what I wanted to hear all along. It's connected to my last post, and I shall not speak further of the subject, except that I was very happy in this dream.
Best Dream Ever. Ever!!!!
Considering the very last Best Dream I had involved dinosaurs, specifically velociraptors (actually, they were Deinonychus; Jurassic Park has screwed with our minds long enough!).
And the one before that involved grizzly bears and flying carpets.
In this dream, I met someone outside (funnily enough) Union House. I met someone who told me what I wanted to hear all along. It's connected to my last post, and I shall not speak further of the subject, except that I was very happy in this dream.
Monday, May 07, 2007
Wow, it's been nearly a week since my last update! I've been in two protests in the last week, and someone saw me on TV, so... I'm a star. I guess.
I don't really have all that much to say for this week (stupid bloody essays taking up lots of time, as usual).
Except I didn't do as well for one of my history essays as I had hoped. While walking away from the building where I had my tute, feeling rueful and slightly frustrated, I bumped into Video-Ezy. Well, not literally. He was with another friend, and they were standing near the sliding doors of the east entrance of Union House, watching an advertisement on that funny television thing in between the two entrances.
I gaped. He remained oblivious. He was wearing a black t-shirt and had his backpack slung on one of his shoulders. Both of them walked out of the exit and turned right, disappearing around the corner.
Oh No! I thought. I decided to quickly run around by the South entrance so I could catch a glimpse of him again... only... only while I was hurrying along the corridor, I passed by a man who was wheeling a cart. He lost control of the cart while trying to push it up the ramp. 4 big pieces of cardboard flipped off the cart, while a big oily drum came careening towards me.
"Oh no!" I gasped (yeah, I did, so sue me. I should have clutched my pearls and anxiously patted my coif too, right?) I had to stop to help. It delayed me by 20 seconds, and by the time I sprinted out of the south entrance, Video-ezy was gone.
You know, the biggest surprise isn't that I saw him. The biggest surprise is that it took so long before I finally did. After all, I've been in uni for 10 weeks now, and this is the first time I've seen him since I started. I guess it just shows how big the university campus is.
I've been offered a chance to get over this. Or maybe two. But I told them/am telling them no. Because I'm getting through this in my own time, and in my own way.
-------------
I met Sheryl in the union shop while I was getting the newspapers today. She sidled behind me and gave me a mini-heart attack.
"Hello, you!" I smiled.
"Helloo," she says. "I want some chocolate."
We stand by the counter, looking at the chocolates.
"Hey, Sheryl?"
"Hmm?" she goes, poking at the bags of M 'n' Ms and Freddo Frogs.
"Jaime's cute, isn't he?" I say.
She grins. "Yeah, he's such a nice guy."
She thinks for a moment, Cadbury Boost Bar nestled in her palm. "And he's really gentle."
We both stand on the spot, melting.
"Don't you wish you had him as partner for your global news project?" she nudges me.
I sigh. "Yeah, I'm really jealous of you. All those opportunities! In a dark corner of the library, or in a cosy cafe, sitting on the couches..."
She laughs. "It wasn't like that!"
Her eyes light up. "Oh oh, I have to tell you something. He is sooooo nice. He couldn't make it for one of the meetings, so he sent me a message, going 'I'm so sorry! I just woke up 10 minutes ago! I promise that I'll make it for the next meeting!' "
Me: "Oh my god, that is so adorable."
"He's in your hollywood tute, isn't he? Is he quiet in tutes?" I ask, while examining a box of nougat (that costs $20!!!)
She thinks for a while, "Yeah, he doesn't say much."
(more inward melting)
Mischeviously, she cocks an eyebrow at me.
"I have his number you know..."
I laugh. "I'm not trying to wheedle it out of you! Haha it's ok, I'm just saying he's cute as hell, that's all."
Sheryl finally chooses a bag of M 'n' Ms.
I don't really have all that much to say for this week (stupid bloody essays taking up lots of time, as usual).
Except I didn't do as well for one of my history essays as I had hoped. While walking away from the building where I had my tute, feeling rueful and slightly frustrated, I bumped into Video-Ezy. Well, not literally. He was with another friend, and they were standing near the sliding doors of the east entrance of Union House, watching an advertisement on that funny television thing in between the two entrances.
I gaped. He remained oblivious. He was wearing a black t-shirt and had his backpack slung on one of his shoulders. Both of them walked out of the exit and turned right, disappearing around the corner.
Oh No! I thought. I decided to quickly run around by the South entrance so I could catch a glimpse of him again... only... only while I was hurrying along the corridor, I passed by a man who was wheeling a cart. He lost control of the cart while trying to push it up the ramp. 4 big pieces of cardboard flipped off the cart, while a big oily drum came careening towards me.
"Oh no!" I gasped (yeah, I did, so sue me. I should have clutched my pearls and anxiously patted my coif too, right?) I had to stop to help. It delayed me by 20 seconds, and by the time I sprinted out of the south entrance, Video-ezy was gone.
You know, the biggest surprise isn't that I saw him. The biggest surprise is that it took so long before I finally did. After all, I've been in uni for 10 weeks now, and this is the first time I've seen him since I started. I guess it just shows how big the university campus is.
I've been offered a chance to get over this. Or maybe two. But I told them/am telling them no. Because I'm getting through this in my own time, and in my own way.
-------------
I met Sheryl in the union shop while I was getting the newspapers today. She sidled behind me and gave me a mini-heart attack.
"Hello, you!" I smiled.
"Helloo," she says. "I want some chocolate."
We stand by the counter, looking at the chocolates.
"Hey, Sheryl?"
"Hmm?" she goes, poking at the bags of M 'n' Ms and Freddo Frogs.
"Jaime's cute, isn't he?" I say.
She grins. "Yeah, he's such a nice guy."
She thinks for a moment, Cadbury Boost Bar nestled in her palm. "And he's really gentle."
We both stand on the spot, melting.
"Don't you wish you had him as partner for your global news project?" she nudges me.
I sigh. "Yeah, I'm really jealous of you. All those opportunities! In a dark corner of the library, or in a cosy cafe, sitting on the couches..."
She laughs. "It wasn't like that!"
Her eyes light up. "Oh oh, I have to tell you something. He is sooooo nice. He couldn't make it for one of the meetings, so he sent me a message, going 'I'm so sorry! I just woke up 10 minutes ago! I promise that I'll make it for the next meeting!' "
Me: "Oh my god, that is so adorable."
"He's in your hollywood tute, isn't he? Is he quiet in tutes?" I ask, while examining a box of nougat (that costs $20!!!)
She thinks for a while, "Yeah, he doesn't say much."
(more inward melting)
Mischeviously, she cocks an eyebrow at me.
"I have his number you know..."
I laugh. "I'm not trying to wheedle it out of you! Haha it's ok, I'm just saying he's cute as hell, that's all."
Sheryl finally chooses a bag of M 'n' Ms.
Labels: Boys, University
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
I'm 19 today, and I'm ok with it. : )
Yes, I think I've finally given up my regrets at no longer being of the nubile-sounding, barely-legal age of 18.
And today was a good day too, inexplicably happy, even though there wasn't a giant bash or celebration or party or crazy pub crawl. It was nice enough though, I put on (one of them, at least... I seem to have stocked up on grey tops this year, for some reason) my favourite grey top, wore my favourite pair of boots out to school and spritzed on a bit of perfume just for the hell of it. (I'm 19, after all.)
For some very strange reason, my girl friends were nowhere to be found today, and I spent the whole day hanging out with the XY-chromosomed people. Let's meet the XY-chromosomed people:
Remy, as reliable as always.
Jason, despite being in my CIM tute for - what, 9 weeks?! - rocked up to our Hollywood lecture and plonked himself next to me with a 'Hi, Miranda'. I then decided to call him 'John', which he conceded was a just punishment.
I saw L outside Union House. He wished me happy birthday, then proceeded to tell me about the importance of May Day to the international worker's movement.
I met Jaime (gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous Jaime) on the way to my CIM tute, and he told me he really liked my op-ed, and didn't understand why I wanted to change it. I reminded him of the last time he critiqued my work, which wasn't nearly half as positive as for the current one.
Me: You were the one who wrote down 'WTF? Erotic Organ?!?' on my PNA, weren't you?
Jaime: Ah, yeah.
*pause*
Jaime: That's 'cause I didn't understand what you were talking about.
Jesus, he's adorable.
Yes, I think I've finally given up my regrets at no longer being of the nubile-sounding, barely-legal age of 18.
And today was a good day too, inexplicably happy, even though there wasn't a giant bash or celebration or party or crazy pub crawl. It was nice enough though, I put on (one of them, at least... I seem to have stocked up on grey tops this year, for some reason) my favourite grey top, wore my favourite pair of boots out to school and spritzed on a bit of perfume just for the hell of it. (I'm 19, after all.)
For some very strange reason, my girl friends were nowhere to be found today, and I spent the whole day hanging out with the XY-chromosomed people. Let's meet the XY-chromosomed people:
Remy, as reliable as always.
Jason, despite being in my CIM tute for - what, 9 weeks?! - rocked up to our Hollywood lecture and plonked himself next to me with a 'Hi, Miranda'. I then decided to call him 'John', which he conceded was a just punishment.
I saw L outside Union House. He wished me happy birthday, then proceeded to tell me about the importance of May Day to the international worker's movement.
I met Jaime (gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous Jaime) on the way to my CIM tute, and he told me he really liked my op-ed, and didn't understand why I wanted to change it. I reminded him of the last time he critiqued my work, which wasn't nearly half as positive as for the current one.
Me: You were the one who wrote down 'WTF? Erotic Organ?!?' on my PNA, weren't you?
Jaime: Ah, yeah.
*pause*
Jaime: That's 'cause I didn't understand what you were talking about.
Jesus, he's adorable.
Labels: University
