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.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Saturday, November 11, 2006
Remember, that we don't repeat our mistakes of the past
Today is remembrance day, a day to pay respect to our veterans of the wars of old. Unfortunately, many use this as a time to also justify taking in battle of ethnocentricities and 'we're better than them' mentalities frightfully similar to the regime so many fought a mere sixtyish years ago
Despite this co-opting of such a solemn day for hegemonic purposes, I still carry my poppy with me, for those who had the courage of their convictions to fight ALL genocidal regimes, not just those who are profitable to oust. As opposed to the paper poppies, I have a special keychain I purchased at the War Museum which is with me at all times. If you ever have a chance to go, I suggest it. It's a moving experience.
I carry it for the thousands, I carry it for my Uncle Jack Lemon who died in battle, I carry it for my Uncle Keith Lemon, who although he wasn't killed, was still lost to the war inside himself. I carry it for my Great-Granpa Earl Lemon who took part in both world wars.
I also carry it for the men who risked their lives (many unwillingly) in Vietnam, only to be spit on by the masses upon their return.
Although I disagree with this so-called 'War on Terrorism' -- or as I prefer to call it "War on the Other" -- I hold respect for those who choose to fight, for they have the courage of their convictions, even if those convictions disagree with my own. I hold no respect for the Administration behind them, however.
That's my political moment for the day.
Well, how do you do, Private William McBride,
Do you mind if I sit down here by your graveside?
And rest for awhile in the warm summer sun,
I've been walking all day, and I'm nearly done.
And I see by your gravestone you were only 19
When you joined the glorious fallen in 1916,
Well, I hope you died quick and I hope you died clean
Or, Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene?
Did they Beat the drum slowly, did the play the pipes lowly?
Did the rifles fir o'er you as they lowered you down?
Did the bugles sound The Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?
And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind
In some loyal heart is your memory enshrined?
And, though you died back in 1916,
To that loyal heart are you forever 19?
Or are you a stranger without even a name,
Forever enshrined behind some glass pane,
In an old photograph, torn and tattered and stained,
And fading to yellow in a brown leather frame?
The sun's shining down on these green fields of France;
The warm wind blows gently, and the red poppies dance.
The trenches have vanished long under the plow;
No gas and no barbed wire, no guns firing now.
But here in this graveyard that's still No Man's Land
The countless white crosses in mute witness stand
To man's blind indifference to his fellow man.
And a whole generation who were butchered and damned.
And I can't help but wonder, no Willie McBride,
Do all those who lie here know why they died?
Did you really believe them when they told you "The Cause?"
Did you really believe that this war would end wars?
Well the suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the shame
The killing, the dying, it was all done in vain,
For Willie McBride, it all happened again,
And again, and again, and again, and again.
Despite this co-opting of such a solemn day for hegemonic purposes, I still carry my poppy with me, for those who had the courage of their convictions to fight ALL genocidal regimes, not just those who are profitable to oust. As opposed to the paper poppies, I have a special keychain I purchased at the War Museum which is with me at all times. If you ever have a chance to go, I suggest it. It's a moving experience.
I carry it for the thousands, I carry it for my Uncle Jack Lemon who died in battle, I carry it for my Uncle Keith Lemon, who although he wasn't killed, was still lost to the war inside himself. I carry it for my Great-Granpa Earl Lemon who took part in both world wars.
I also carry it for the men who risked their lives (many unwillingly) in Vietnam, only to be spit on by the masses upon their return.
Although I disagree with this so-called 'War on Terrorism' -- or as I prefer to call it "War on the Other" -- I hold respect for those who choose to fight, for they have the courage of their convictions, even if those convictions disagree with my own. I hold no respect for the Administration behind them, however.
That's my political moment for the day.
Well, how do you do, Private William McBride,
Do you mind if I sit down here by your graveside?
And rest for awhile in the warm summer sun,
I've been walking all day, and I'm nearly done.
And I see by your gravestone you were only 19
When you joined the glorious fallen in 1916,
Well, I hope you died quick and I hope you died clean
Or, Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene?
Did they Beat the drum slowly, did the play the pipes lowly?
Did the rifles fir o'er you as they lowered you down?
Did the bugles sound The Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?
And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind
In some loyal heart is your memory enshrined?
And, though you died back in 1916,
To that loyal heart are you forever 19?
Or are you a stranger without even a name,
Forever enshrined behind some glass pane,
In an old photograph, torn and tattered and stained,
And fading to yellow in a brown leather frame?
The sun's shining down on these green fields of France;
The warm wind blows gently, and the red poppies dance.
The trenches have vanished long under the plow;
No gas and no barbed wire, no guns firing now.
But here in this graveyard that's still No Man's Land
The countless white crosses in mute witness stand
To man's blind indifference to his fellow man.
And a whole generation who were butchered and damned.
And I can't help but wonder, no Willie McBride,
Do all those who lie here know why they died?
Did you really believe them when they told you "The Cause?"
Did you really believe that this war would end wars?
Well the suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the shame
The killing, the dying, it was all done in vain,
For Willie McBride, it all happened again,
And again, and again, and again, and again.
Wine labels and shadows from the past
Discovered something yesterday... never read wine labels, they make you do crazy things. I picked up a nice Cabernet Sauvignon from Australia (I'm becoming a wino!) yesterday and read the label, which read 'serve with a nice red peppercorn steak.
My stomach screamed "OHHHHH STEAK!" I don't even eat steak, but I was compelled to go out and purchase one to eat last night. Oh man. Was it ever worth it. Went really well with the wine. They were sooooo right.
Had a visitor from my past life last night (Past life = pre-separation) come by out of the blue, a friend of my ex nephew in law who used to hang out at the boy and my place a lot before we started having babies and stuff. It was an interesting, if slightly uncomfortable visit. It's weird, sometimes I look back at that time in my life (especially before the babies) and it's like I am a thousand light years away, or like i moved away for ten years then came back.
Had a talk with the boy today after I dropped the girls off this morning, and I've come to the conclusion that I may have finally forgiven him. I really just wish the best for him and the GF. I'm not angry at him for leaving anymore, because things are better for all involved now than they could have been had we stayed together. There were some rocky times, that's for sure. But having come to a place in my life where I am settled in my own groove, and he is settled in his, I'm really quite happy with my life, and in some weird way, I have him to thank for it.
If he hadn't of left, I may have never had that push to go and get my schooling, and learn the things i have learned or met all the wonderful people I have met, both online and off.
Sure, I get lonely from time to time. But I have to wonder if occasional loneliness is a small price to pay when I have so much else going for me now. The lonliness will pass, too. Like I said, I have many fantastic friends, who are always there when the late-night quiet gets to be so much. I have my beautiful little girls, who are healthy and happy. I have goals and a roof over my head and my health (most of the time!)
Someone is out there, I'm not so jaded that I've lost all hope. And when that person comes along, that's just gonna be gravy on the feast of my life.
My stomach screamed "OHHHHH STEAK!" I don't even eat steak, but I was compelled to go out and purchase one to eat last night. Oh man. Was it ever worth it. Went really well with the wine. They were sooooo right.
Had a visitor from my past life last night (Past life = pre-separation) come by out of the blue, a friend of my ex nephew in law who used to hang out at the boy and my place a lot before we started having babies and stuff. It was an interesting, if slightly uncomfortable visit. It's weird, sometimes I look back at that time in my life (especially before the babies) and it's like I am a thousand light years away, or like i moved away for ten years then came back.
Had a talk with the boy today after I dropped the girls off this morning, and I've come to the conclusion that I may have finally forgiven him. I really just wish the best for him and the GF. I'm not angry at him for leaving anymore, because things are better for all involved now than they could have been had we stayed together. There were some rocky times, that's for sure. But having come to a place in my life where I am settled in my own groove, and he is settled in his, I'm really quite happy with my life, and in some weird way, I have him to thank for it.
If he hadn't of left, I may have never had that push to go and get my schooling, and learn the things i have learned or met all the wonderful people I have met, both online and off.
Sure, I get lonely from time to time. But I have to wonder if occasional loneliness is a small price to pay when I have so much else going for me now. The lonliness will pass, too. Like I said, I have many fantastic friends, who are always there when the late-night quiet gets to be so much. I have my beautiful little girls, who are healthy and happy. I have goals and a roof over my head and my health (most of the time!)
Someone is out there, I'm not so jaded that I've lost all hope. And when that person comes along, that's just gonna be gravy on the feast of my life.
Wednesday, August 9, 2006
Dismantle Me
Had a fairly decent day today. Last day of classes for the summer, so I am off for about 3 weeks. Had a really nice talk with Joe on the way down to Barrie from Orillia. Fuck I'm gonna miss that guy when he leaves for the military. Definitely one of the most interesting people I have met at school. It's gonna be difficult, that's for sure. But life goes on.
Got myself up the nerve to ask out the Devils fan from the store (see blog from last weekend -- the one where I lose my kids). Went to his place of work just before dinner time -- before the rush -- ordered me a fish and chip combo, and asked who was working in the kitchen, and the waitress told me DF was working so she went and got him.
DF: Hey trouble, how're you doing?
Me: Well I was driving around Barrie, with a hankering for some fish and chips, and I recalled somebody telling me about this little seafood place, so here I am
DF: so what brings you here?
Me: Wanted to ask you something, are you dating anyone
DF: me? nooooo. *shakes head
Me: Would you like to go out sometime?
At which point he told me no, he was staying single, swore off after a particular messy breakup. I told him that was unfortunate but I understand the sentiment. He said he was concentrating on his kid and his job. Fair enough. Sounded reasonable, I didn't get the feeling I was being fed a line or anything.
So, disappointing as that was, I shall live to see another day.
Hung out with Sammi and Krystle tonight, which was cool, a little 'girls' night. Plan was to head to Karaoke at The Simcoe, but when we got there they told me I couldn't come in with my Timmies, so Sammi and I waited outside for Krystle, until a drunk woman (seriously, and it was only 9) came out and accosted us for being on the step of the place, because that was for the 'smokers'. So I said, "fine, I'll have a smoke then." Then we walked around to my car to wait there, because the drunk woman was freakin' me out, but not nearly as much as it did when she came around the corner and started squatting at the side of the building
Sammi: Is that woman peeing on the street?
Me: If she is, she forgot a very important step, cuz she's still got her pants on.
Sammi: Oh god look at the ground. And her ass is wet.
Me: I don't wanna go here anymore.
So we didn't. We hit Starbucks and offended some people with our loud boisterous discussion about hard core porn fetishes. You know, girlie stuff :-P Anyway it was pretty good time. When I got home, I took the bandaid off my stitches, and they started bleeding like a motherfucker, so I drove myself over to the ER to have them inform me that no, I didn't pop any of the stitches, no they aren't infected and no, they probably won't be ready to come out on thursday. Volleyball and swimming amongst other things probably weren't the best idea though. Now it's crazy late, but this was a bloggable sort of day, so I wanted to get it down while it was fresh. Now I go sleepy bye.
P.S. The mosquitos ate me alive Sunday night. It hurts.
Got myself up the nerve to ask out the Devils fan from the store (see blog from last weekend -- the one where I lose my kids). Went to his place of work just before dinner time -- before the rush -- ordered me a fish and chip combo, and asked who was working in the kitchen, and the waitress told me DF was working so she went and got him.
DF: Hey trouble, how're you doing?
Me: Well I was driving around Barrie, with a hankering for some fish and chips, and I recalled somebody telling me about this little seafood place, so here I am
DF: so what brings you here?
Me: Wanted to ask you something, are you dating anyone
DF: me? nooooo. *shakes head
Me: Would you like to go out sometime?
At which point he told me no, he was staying single, swore off after a particular messy breakup. I told him that was unfortunate but I understand the sentiment. He said he was concentrating on his kid and his job. Fair enough. Sounded reasonable, I didn't get the feeling I was being fed a line or anything.
So, disappointing as that was, I shall live to see another day.
Hung out with Sammi and Krystle tonight, which was cool, a little 'girls' night. Plan was to head to Karaoke at The Simcoe, but when we got there they told me I couldn't come in with my Timmies, so Sammi and I waited outside for Krystle, until a drunk woman (seriously, and it was only 9) came out and accosted us for being on the step of the place, because that was for the 'smokers'. So I said, "fine, I'll have a smoke then." Then we walked around to my car to wait there, because the drunk woman was freakin' me out, but not nearly as much as it did when she came around the corner and started squatting at the side of the building
Sammi: Is that woman peeing on the street?
Me: If she is, she forgot a very important step, cuz she's still got her pants on.
Sammi: Oh god look at the ground. And her ass is wet.
Me: I don't wanna go here anymore.
So we didn't. We hit Starbucks and offended some people with our loud boisterous discussion about hard core porn fetishes. You know, girlie stuff :-P Anyway it was pretty good time. When I got home, I took the bandaid off my stitches, and they started bleeding like a motherfucker, so I drove myself over to the ER to have them inform me that no, I didn't pop any of the stitches, no they aren't infected and no, they probably won't be ready to come out on thursday. Volleyball and swimming amongst other things probably weren't the best idea though. Now it's crazy late, but this was a bloggable sort of day, so I wanted to get it down while it was fresh. Now I go sleepy bye.
P.S. The mosquitos ate me alive Sunday night. It hurts.
Monday, August 7, 2006
My Sister...
...throws the best fucking parties I have ever been to!!
I think the experience of a Nicky party can be summed up in three and a half words:
NAKED SLIP N SLIDE!!!
I didn't partake in the wet naked fun myself, but I had fun taking pictures.
Which isn't to say that I totally behaved myself, but imma spare the details to protect the innocent, and not so innocent.
Thursday, August 3, 2006
This Restless Heart
I've been listening to Metric and reading Chuck Klosterman again. I've discovered that this is a bad combination as I'm finding myself restless and yearning for the open road.
I'm possibly at another crossroads, and I feel that the next year is going to involve a lot of changes, as old friends move away and new friends are made (hopefully).
I find myself randomly entering addresses into Google Maps and (which has replaced my beloved, if tattered road map of Ontario). I find myself wanting to write and write and write, and converse with strangers in strange places and sleep in my car and swim in lakes off the side of the road.
I think of my favourite book The Watch That Ends the Night and Montreal calls to me for reasons unknown, although I'm sure Montreal of 2006 differs greatly from the Depression era montreal that MacLennan wrote of. But the idea of being in a place where I will only be able to communicate coherently with a certain portion of the population appeals to me.
I want to document my trip and decide what to do with the finished product. Sell the rights? Destroy it? Lock it up in a safe deposit box, to be opened on the event of my eventual death?
My mother suggests I take my grandmother with me. My grandma is super fun, but I'm not sure how enthusiastic she would be with the neo-bohemian approach that I am considering. That's the problem with being a normally play-it-safe kind of girl... When I want to be spontaneous, I kind of go all out.
Up until this week I was in a great place for hitting hotels and casinos and playing cards and shopping (which is the kind of vacation I would like to do with my grandma) but this roaming instinct has hit me with all the force of a Mac Truck, and I am feeling the need for isolation and being one with the road and all that rot... meeting interesting characters... having Hunter S Thompson type misadventures (minus the drugs though, but thats just me).
I want to visit places I have heard about in songs by Stompin' Tom or the Tragically hip.
I think I want to write a book.
But that is something for another time, as my children are hungry, and I am soon to find myself awash in dirty dishes and hot dogs and Kraft Dinner.
My domestic reality beckons. As my friend just put it... I should get back to doing the 'Mom' thing.
This Restless Heart, Part Two.
Firstly I gotta say...
TV!! SWEET MOTHER OF GOD HOW I HAVE MISSED YOU!
OK, so I have mulled over the vacation thing and I'm gonna do the Montreal road trip thing (with stops in Ottawa and Kingston me thinks) on my own (or with any friend who might like to come along and be all hippie beatnick with me), and then when my OSAP comes in September, I'll take Grandma Ruth down to Niagara Falls for some touristy good fun.
Again, have I mentioned how much I miss TV?
Again, have I mentioned how much I miss TV?
The Not-So-Italian Job
Just woke up from bizarre dream that was some bizarre cross between the Italian Job and I dunno.. Mean Girls or something.
I can't describe too much of it, because for some reason my memory of the dream is being neurologically disrupted by random lines from Metric's Police and the Private (or whatever it's called. Thanks Sammi and Lori lol)
I remember something about money and someone putting a stop to 'your precious waterfront project'. Then a lot of stoned teenagers embarking on a high speed chase through downtown toronto, and crashing. Then some chick standing up saying we're gonna do things differently, and starts talking about people she knew in highschool that she made fun of who really just had weird emotional disorders. One was a woman who she had said "had 'Male ______ (Flattery? Fixation?), and wasn't just a 'dyke bitch whore'" Oh yeah, and the Metric playing really loud over the dream.
Back to bed I go.
***************************************************************************
Oh yeah, power went out here for about 2 hours. Was having August 2003 flashbacks, if you know what I mean.
The Not-So-Italian Job
Just woke up from bizarre dream that was some bizarre cross between the Italian Job and I dunno.. Mean Girls or something.
I can't describe too much of it, because for some reason my memory of the dream is being neurologically disrupted by random lines from Metric's The Police and The Private (or whatever it's called. Thanks Sammi and Lori.)
I remember something about money and someone putting a stop to 'your precious waterfront project'. Then a lot of stoned teenagers embarking on a high speed chase through downtown Toronto, and crashing. Then some chick standing up saying "We're gonna do things differently!" and starts talking about people she knew in high school that she made fun of who really just had weird emotional disorders. One was a woman who she had said "had 'Male ______ (Flattery? Fixation?), and wasn't just a 'dyke bitch whore'" Oh yeah, and the Metric playing really loud over the dream.
Back to bed I go.
***************************************************************************
Oh yeah, power went out here for about 2 hours. Was having August 2003 flashbacks, if you know what I mean.
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