I've been reading again.

So back when I was in school, I bought and/or procured a shit-load of books, mostly those that had been mentioned in class, with the intention of reading them.  The snag was that while in school, I never had time read anything other than the required texts for my classes.  Once I graduated, my brain went into sleep mode and I wanted nothing more than to immerse myself in comic books, suspense thrillers and Harry Potter.

I was burnt out.

I also starting blogging and reading blogs a lot more in this time so my reading materials mostly consisted of other blogs and my books got sorely neglected.  So five years later I'm getting back into reading some of those more 'meaty' books I picked up in school.

I just finished "The Road To Wigan Pier" and I was struck by how a book that was published over 80 years ago holds relevant in many ways today.  Some of the parallels I found between his descriptions of the unemployed in Britain in the 1930s and prevailing attitudes toward the unemployed and working poor at the time similar to some of the misconceptions the Occupy movement attempted to address this past year.  Namely the idea that the unemployed don't want to work.  Both Orwell and the Occupy movement pointed out that most unemployed are willing to work, were the the work there and available at a living wage.

The book comes from a very pro-Socialism standpoint.  His thesis seems to be that unless a lot of people embrace socialism very soon, the only alternative will be Fascism which, to paraphrase, is basically Socialism without any of the good stuff.  He points out a few reasons that people at the time were hesitant to consider it, despite agreeing with many of the ideals.  One argument, that could easily applied to today and the tendency of lower-middle class to accept the fallacy of trickle-down economics, is that the class-conciousness of the time meant that people who, by upbringing, considered themselves 'middle-class' (described by Orwell as 'those who pronouce their aitches') were being pushed into the working class by way of economics.   One who was raised to think of themselves as a higher class than the working class may, out of fear of 'losing their place', be apt to align themselves with systems that benefit the rich, than systems that are actually more likely to be in their own best interests.

The other issue Orwell brings up is the tendency to avoid Socialism out of a desire not to align oneself with the prevailing ideal of what it means to be a "Socialist".  The caricature of the pistachio-shirted, sandalled, stuffy, boring, intellectual type is similar to the image of the man-hating, hairy-legged butch lesbian who will scream at someone who holds doors that causes many people to say "Yeah, I believe men and women should have the same rights, but I'm not a feminist..."  

(For the record, I fully identify as a feminist, but I am still grateful when someone holds a door for me.. why?  BECAUSE IT'S A NICE THING TO DO, NO MATTER WHO YOU ARE.)

Long story short, I found this book a hell of a lot more interesting than I had originally thought I would.  The descriptions of the daily lives of the British coal miners and the living conditions of the unemployed of the working poor at the time made me look around at all I have and thank Gord for what I have.  The later parts of the book where he describes the machine age and its effects on the human population had me nodding in agreement, as many of the passages could easily have been written today.

Say It, Don't Spray It.

I have a lisp.

Or I used to.

I've been told that it's gone away.  Some claim they still hear it.

I don't know, I've never really been aware of it, personally.

I figure it's a result of an underdeveloped jaw and teeth that are just too bloody big for my head.  I have vague memories of being sent to a speech-language pathologist as a small child who spent hours with me insisting that I try to make a boat with my tongue...

Clearly, the pathologist was a waste of time, because 20+ years later I still had this impediment.  Go figure.

I once dated a guy who had a real 'thing' for my lisp.  For reasons entirely beyond my comprehension, he found it...sexy?

Let me be clear.  I don't have one of those cute cross-between-a-two-year-old-and-Tweety-Bird lisps where all your Elle's and Arh's come out like Double-You's.

"Hewwo Saiwor.. Buy Me a Dwink?" - Source

No, indeed, I have the Say-it-don't-spray-it brand of lisp that results in all of your Esses making you sound like a drunken anaconda.  HAWT.

In university, I somehow always ended up doing oral presentations on topics that succeeded in aggravating my particular speech impediment:

For History of Science:  An independent study on the history and development of the Oral Contraceptive.  Lots of fun words to say, like Estrogen, and Progesterone!

For Minority Groups throughout the World:  A presentation on... The Tuskegee Syphilis Experiment

and for Environmental Science: The Commercial Fishing Industry in Canada:  Pacific Salmon.

Oh yeah.. for that last one, I had a choice, east coast or west coast.  Do you think I picked the east coast?  Oh Hell no.  That would have been too easy.  Not nearly enough Ess sounds in ATLANTIC COD, noshiree.

*sigh*

Wait.. 

*shigh*

It's neither this or that, actually it's a collection of things...

Two hour lecture in Modern Soc Theory about the 'three faces of cruelty' (being ferocity, callousness and acetiscism) follow by a forty minute film on the history of punishment. Yay. Someone slit my wrists for me, please.

More cases of mistaken identity. Apparently cute guys DO just smile and say hi to me for no reason. Thought he was one of Sammi's friends from her going away party. Turned out to be a random guy from the library who 'stole' a chair from me last week. Seem nice enough, I introduced myself after explaining my mix-up.

One out of my last three assignments complete, a three-pager (yay for the short ones) in response to a study on polyamoury. Toyed with the idea that the assumption of monogamy just sets some couples up for failure. This was for Sex roles. Will hand in tomorrow morning, not-so-bright and early.

Finally free of Magical Trevor. For the time being.

Transcribed the lyrics to The Headstones 'Nickels for your Nightmares'. That song is truly a testament to Hugh Dillon's smack addiction.

Ignored on the MSN by one who shall remain nameless. Think I'm gonna take the hint.

Me go sleepy sleepy now.

A Penchant for the Problematic

It was a bad day to be a guy in Thinking Sociologically today. 4 presentations, 3 of them on Gender Inequality. If I was one of the guys in my class today, I might have wanted to go home and shoot myself. I dont' know sometimes how the guys can get through these classes without feeling horrible just for being male.

It makes me understand why some people fucking hate feminism. Unfortunately, what opponents of feminism and radical feminists -- as well as some of those who are new to it and don't really 'get' it yet -- The purpose of feminism is not to attack men. It is to critique and attempt to make change to a system that favours one sex over the other.

What is not realized, is that men are just as much a pawn of this form of socialization as women are. Difference being, for a long time, men have reaped the benefits. Men are only doing what is natural, what anyone in a position of power does -- trying not to lose that power. Anyone who is in a position in any heirarchial structure is gonna try to maintain, if not the position itself, at the very least, the benefits that come with it. Women would do the same thing. Don't think so? Try asking a group of women if -- should modern technology allow -- men should be allowed to carry babies, and quite a few will jump on that being 'our only source of power' and vehemently deny that right to men. Oh yeah, I saw it.

But still, the focus remains on how hard done by we are. In many ways buying into what many have attempted to fight.

One of the points that was made today in a presentation concerned the media. One group did a comparison of how sexualized women had to become in order to be sucessful in music. Case in point, Britney Spears. and to a lesser extent, Christina Aguilera, as well as women who act as back-up dancers in videos such as this one:


Buck Cherry - Crazy Bitch you might not want to have kids in the room.

One of the girls in my class pointed out that the girls in this video were using their sexuality to make money, and that it was their choice to do so, thus were they not empowered to a certain extent?

The answer given to this question bothered me. The response was something to the effect of 'Well, she should be able to get a high-paying job that DOESN'T involve selling her body". This response presented me with a quandary. Part of the sexual revolution/women's lib movement of the 60s and 70's was presenting the idea that women were sexual beings in their own right, not as just as vessels for male pleasure.

So why are we still saddled with the ideal that 'good girls don't?' We look down on sexual expression for profit. Some may say it's exploitation, but is it exploitation when said person stands to profit and is aware of what they are doing?

Where is the line drawn between expression and exploitation? Why is it when Britney Spears gets half-naked in a video it's smutty and an affront to women, but if Sarah McLachlan does it, it's artistic expression? The issue of McLachlan being a superior musical talent notwithstanding.

One could argue that in Spears' case her exposure is for the sake of the male gaze, in order to titillate. But this is only a negative because society has moralized against the use of sexuality as an assertion of power. We, for some reason are only allowed to use our intellect, or physical strength to get ahead. We can use our sexuality to attract a mate, but if someone stands to make monetary gains then some invisible moral boundary has been crossed and that person is to be reviled.

Bah. I ramble. Oh yeah, the mr. Lee sight is a spoof. They can't get really make a man pregnant. Yet.

Edit: Posted video then realized I had the wrong version posted. I had originally posted the censored version.

I think I need help -or- socio-babble part one.

Sometimes getting woken up suddenly is a good thing, because otherwise I'd probably forget fucked up dreams like this:

I'm at a large pier, swimming with my children. This pier is about 100 feet wide. It's huge. There is an above water rock formation not too far away, similar to the one near Robin's Point where I used to swim. They are at about a 45 degree angle from each other.

The girls are able to swim for some reason, which is good because I'm not paying a whole lot of attention to them, although I am aware enough of their presence to look around every so often to pull one out from under the water (they can swim, but not well, in my dream). Instead I am more fascinated with the fact that the pier and the rock formation are growing ever closer to each other (a concrete pier and a pile of rocks). I look up at one point to realize that we are in a large water filled room, with red walls, still containing the rocks and the pier but now they are significantly smaller.

I notice Tierney just under the water struggling to emerge, so I yank her out of the water, coughing and sputtering. Then the water, pier, and rocks are gone and have been replaced by a large dome tent, although we are still in the red room. The tent takes up most of the room. I am sitting on one side, the children are playing, running in and out of the tent, and I can see on the other side of the tent, K (the ex-hubby's ex) and her kids are sitting against the wall, watching the girls play. I am very uncomfortable with this. Trying to be nonchalant, I say 'Okay girls, we're going to clean up now' and they disappear. As I start dismantling the tent, K and her kids get up to leave, she says something to her middle child as they leave, but I don't remember because I am noticing her hair is curlier than usual, almost like black hair.

I finish taking the tent down and I walk into another room, this one empty and beige. The Boy (read: ex-hubby) is in the room with Reagan (I don't seem bothered by the fact that I don't know where Tierney is) We small talk chit chat, apparently he is teaching Reagan to play guitar. There is again no furniture in the room, so he is seated, leaning against the wall, and Reegs is standing. I mention, hesistantly, that K had been there, and saw the girls. He nods and says that he saw her when they came through. I then notice a guitar on the ground and pick it up to notice that the neck has been broken right off. I show this to him and he laughs.

Next I am what looks like my nanny's house in Bancroft, in the living room. My mother is placing Knicknacks and lamps and candles around the room. As she busies around, she is advising me that if I get a Sears catalogue (she has to say 'Sears catalogue' about 6 times before I understand her, there are a few other people in the room, chatting loudly) that I can order some light. Confused I look around at all the lamps and candles in the room, and I can't for the life of me figure out what she is talking about but I nod and wink conspiratorially to her.

I am looking around the room for improvements that can be made, or things that can be taken away and my mother has embarked on making little place card type things with inspirational messages on them from the computer, and is placing them carefully on the windowsill. In the dream, this all seems like normal, if slightly irritating, behavior for my mom.

Next I am downtown midland, there is some kind of festival going on, I'm walking down the street with Aditya (new friend I just made). He sees a girl inside of one of the stores who is wearing a large rainbow flag. He mentions that he likes her and I say "So what are you waiting for?? Go talk to her" and with superhuman strength I literally throw him at her. 

Meanwhile I browse the magazine section of the store, and there are all these underground comics, tattoo magazines and a lot of occult-themed publications. I leave the store I walk up the street towards the library, where there is some kind of ritual or something taking place. There are many people around wearing purple shawls and covered in glittery stuff. There is a large pyre burning, about four feet tall with billowing black smoke. My dad handed me a purple shawl, and I put it on, and I swear the thing weighed 50 pounds. I am told by another guy that I have to get oiled up (which I am assuming is what the glittery stuff). I am aware that this other guy is my stepfather, which is odd because I have no recollection of my parents being divorced.

He guides me over to a booth where there are tubes of glitter laid out on a table, and proceeds to start rubbing the stuff on me, in some rather personal areas. I'm thinking OMG WTF. but strangely a little aroused too (BTW this guy has no resemblance to anyone I know IRL). He leaves and as I am putting the stuff on my arms, I telepathically contact Melissa (I told you this was a weird dream) and say "Dude, I totally have to tell you something." My 'stepfather' comes back and then phone rings and I wake up.

Yeah, I'm pretty fucked up I think.

***************************************************************************

So I went to see Clerks 2 last night with Jay, John, John's GF Camilla (?) and Jay's friend Adi. Good times. Not Kevin Smiths best work, but still worth seeing. Thought it was a better wrap-up to the Jersey Saga of movies than Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back was. Some parts were funny as hell, some parts were over the top gross (Kinky Kelly for example), some parts were really over the top emotional, which is a departure for KS.

It got me thinking though about how you rarely see movies portray really deep, emotionally intimate friendships between men though. Although there are tons of buddy movies, the relationships, although lasting, seem really shallow. I give Kevin Smith credit for showing that in his films (even if he does use the homoerotic slant for cheap laughs). Come to think of it, he did it with Holden and Banky in Chasing Amy, and even with Ollie and his Dad in Jersey Girl. I haven't seen many movies show deep friendships between men since the Odd Couple.

When we watched the movie "Tough Guise" in Women and Pop culture -- which by the way, if you can get your hands on this movie watch it, it's fascinating -- There is an overlaying theme of men being isolated loners, with little emotional connection to anyone. Which is not real life, but could become so, since we learn from TV, movies and music more than anything now. But in real life, guys do have lasting emotional friendships, I've seen it on more than one occasion. Movies tend to portray male relationships as based on getting drunk/high having adventures and chasing pussy. Or as a dominant/submissive superhero/sidekick type thing. (Although the Tick and Arthur had an interesting relationship)

So yeah, I'm done my socio-babble for now. This is an interesting topic I think though. I'm thinking now I may start researching. If they bring the fourth year to Barrie maybe I could do my thesis on Male relationships in movies and television. I could go back to the old Crosby/Sinatra 'road to...." movies through to today.

NOBODY STEAL MY IDEA, K??