This blogaround brought to you by thistles.
Recommended Reading:
Pam: [TW for homophobia] Romney Proposes Bullshit Three-Tier Marriage System
The Rejectionist: [TW for rape; abuse; misogyny] Eleven Thoughts about Lisbeth Salander
Resistance: [TW for racism; victim-blaming] In Need of a History Lesson
Arturo: [TW for racism] #MARKSWATCH: The Response and The Meme
Brian: [TW for fat hatred] There is a reason my picture is at the top of the page.
Andy: 'Someday' We'll Know if Tom Vilsack Supports Marriage Equality for All (I get the feeling there are a lot of cabinet members trying not to get a step ahead of the boss these days. Sigh.)
Stephanie: 2012 Golden Globe Nominations (With linked feminist reviews, where possible.)
Leave your links and recommendations in comments...
Jumat, 16 Desember 2011
Whoooooooops Your Kyriarchal Assumptions
Actress Gabourey Sidibe arrives for the premiere of the film "Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close" in New York, December 15, 2011. [Reuters Pictures]Earlier today, I saw this picture of Gabby Sidibe on the red carpet last night, looking gorgeous as always, and I was reminded of a popular media meme about Sidibe when she was nominated for an Oscar for her breakthrough performance in Precious. It was said in a lot of different ways, by a lot of different reviewers, reporters, and assorted film industry experts, some of whom were more circumspect and some of whom were more blunt, but the gist was always that Sidibe would not—could not—have a sustainable career, because she is fat, because she is a fat woman, because she is a fat woman of color, because she is a fat woman of color with very dark skin, because she is a fat woman of color with very dark skin who played a survivor of sexual violence in her career-launching role.
Since then, Sidibe has starred in Victoria Mahoney's Yelling to the Sky, had a major supporting role in a cable series (Showtime's The Big C), done voice work on two different animated series, played a key supporting role in the recently-released Brett Ratner film Tower Heist, and is currently filming Martin McDonagh's Seven Psychopaths, which has an A-list cast.
Not too shabby. I imagine there are a lot of actors who would be thrilled to have such a non-career.
I would say that I'm looking forward to reading all the follow-up pieces in which the Very Important Knowledgeable Prognosticators of the Entertainment Industry admit that perhaps they were a little quick to judge, to mistake the prejudiced habits of the film industry with some immutable truth about its nature. I would say that except ha ha I'm not stupid and it will never happen.
I hope Gabby Sidibe keeps getting opportunities, and that her career is exactly as long as she wants it to be.
Daily Dose of Cute
[Please note that Dudley and Zelda bare their teeth at each other in this video. They're just playing, but if seeing dogs bare their teeth is triggering or otherwise problematic for you, you should skip this video.]
Dudley and Zelda lie on the floor facing each other, their paws crossed, squeaking a plush snake toy between them. They stop and look at me. "Get it," I tell them. "Get it, puppies!" They sniff at it, sniff each other, look back at me. "Where's the snake? Where is it?" I ask. They look at me. "Where's the snake?" They look at me. "Dudley, get it. Get it!" I whisper. "Zelly Belly, get that snake!" I reach down for it. "What is this?" I hold it up and they take it back for more squeaking. Zelly throws me a quick "Thanks, Two-Legs!" look. Squeak squeak squeak.
Suddenly Zelda hops backwards and sits up with her back against the settee. (This is her cue for: "It's time for the Bitey Game!") "Oh my goodness!" I exclaim to Dudley. "What was that?!" He looks at me. "Oh my goodness!" He squeaks the snake while Zelly waits patiently, then finally catches on. He stands up and sniffs the camera, then goes and offers his neck to Zelda. They snort and huff and play-bite each other. Zelda bats him with her paw. He play-bites her leg. She punches him. "You tell him, Zelly," I tell her. "You tell him."
Dudley sits down beside her, then lowers himself so now Zelly is the taller one. More biteyness. Zelly punches him with both front paws, then falls over. I laugh. Bitey bitey bitey. Iain makes a noise in the loft; the dogs stop and look up, a pair of ridiculous cuteness. Fin.
Dudley and Zelda lie on the floor facing each other, their paws crossed, squeaking a plush snake toy between them. They stop and look at me. "Get it," I tell them. "Get it, puppies!" They sniff at it, sniff each other, look back at me. "Where's the snake? Where is it?" I ask. They look at me. "Where's the snake?" They look at me. "Dudley, get it. Get it!" I whisper. "Zelly Belly, get that snake!" I reach down for it. "What is this?" I hold it up and they take it back for more squeaking. Zelly throws me a quick "Thanks, Two-Legs!" look. Squeak squeak squeak.
Suddenly Zelda hops backwards and sits up with her back against the settee. (This is her cue for: "It's time for the Bitey Game!") "Oh my goodness!" I exclaim to Dudley. "What was that?!" He looks at me. "Oh my goodness!" He squeaks the snake while Zelly waits patiently, then finally catches on. He stands up and sniffs the camera, then goes and offers his neck to Zelda. They snort and huff and play-bite each other. Zelda bats him with her paw. He play-bites her leg. She punches him. "You tell him, Zelly," I tell her. "You tell him."
Dudley sits down beside her, then lowers himself so now Zelly is the taller one. More biteyness. Zelly punches him with both front paws, then falls over. I laugh. Bitey bitey bitey. Iain makes a noise in the loft; the dogs stop and look up, a pair of ridiculous cuteness. Fin.
Important End-of-Year Fundraiser
This is, for those who have requested it, your bi-monthly reminder* to donate to Shakesville and/or to make sure to renew subscriptions that have lapsed.
It is also an important fundraiser to keep Shakesville going.
I'm going to be really honest, here: Donations are way down. Part of the reality of running this space on donations rather than corporate advertising is that my ability to keep it going depends on your support.
You can donate once by clicking the "Make a Donation" button in the righthand sidebar, or set up a monthly subscription using the "Subscribe" button just below it, which has a dropdown menu of subscription options—or visit the Subscribe to Shakesville page, for even more options. 2012 Calendars are available for purchase here.
If you value the content and/or community in this space, can afford it, and want to see Shakesville continue to be managed** as a safe space, please consider setting up a subscription or making a one-time contribution.
If you have recently appreciated getting distilled news about the economy; being able to discuss pranks in a space interested in dismantling the rape culture; finding out where to direct your teaspoon in support of social justice or in opposition to inequality; getting election news about candidates who are discussed on the basis on their policies alone, I hope you will, if you are able, contribute to support this space and make sure it continues to flourish.
I hope you will also consider the value of whatever else you appreciate at Shakesville, whether it's the moderation, Film Corner, the community in Open Threads, video transcripts, the blogarounds, Butch Pornstache, the Daily Dose of Cute, your blogmistress' penchant for inventing new words, or anything else you enjoy.
Let me reiterate, once again, that I don't want anyone to feel obliged to contribute financially, especially if money is tight. Aside from valuing feminist work, the other goal of fundraising is so Iain and I don't have to struggle on behalf of the blog, and I don't want anyone else to struggle themselves in exchange. There is a big enough readership that neither should have to happen.
I also want say thank you, so very much, to each of you who donates or has donated, whether monthly or as a one-off. I am profoundly grateful—and I don't take a single cent for granted. I've not the words to express the depth of my appreciation, besides these: This community couldn't exist without that support, truly. Thank you.
My thanks as well to everyone who contributes to the space in other ways, whether as a regular contributor, a moderator, a guest contributor, a transcriber, and/or as someone who takes the time to send me the occasional note of support and encouragement. This community couldn't exist without you, either.
---------------------
* I know there are people who resent these reminders, but there are also people who appreciate them, so I've now taken to doing them every other month, in the hopes that will make a good compromise.
** Managing Shakesville as a safe space requires, in addition to the time of our volunteer mods, my full-time commitment, and my salary is drawn exclusively from donations. I do not raise funds by corporate or content-generated advertising, as past attempts have resulted in ads served that violated the safe space, and I do not raise funds by required subscription, i.e. locking content behind a pay wall, as I want Shakesville to be accessible as possible irrespective of one's financial situation.
I cannot afford to do this full-time for free, but, even if I could, fundraising is also one of the most feminist acts I do here. I ask to be paid for my work because progressive feminist advocacy has value.
[Please Note: I am not seeking suggestions on how to raise revenue; I am asking for donations in exchange for the work of providing valued content in as safe and accessible a space as possible.]
It is also an important fundraiser to keep Shakesville going.
I'm going to be really honest, here: Donations are way down. Part of the reality of running this space on donations rather than corporate advertising is that my ability to keep it going depends on your support.
You can donate once by clicking the "Make a Donation" button in the righthand sidebar, or set up a monthly subscription using the "Subscribe" button just below it, which has a dropdown menu of subscription options—or visit the Subscribe to Shakesville page, for even more options. 2012 Calendars are available for purchase here.
If you value the content and/or community in this space, can afford it, and want to see Shakesville continue to be managed** as a safe space, please consider setting up a subscription or making a one-time contribution.
If you have recently appreciated getting distilled news about the economy; being able to discuss pranks in a space interested in dismantling the rape culture; finding out where to direct your teaspoon in support of social justice or in opposition to inequality; getting election news about candidates who are discussed on the basis on their policies alone, I hope you will, if you are able, contribute to support this space and make sure it continues to flourish.
I hope you will also consider the value of whatever else you appreciate at Shakesville, whether it's the moderation, Film Corner, the community in Open Threads, video transcripts, the blogarounds, Butch Pornstache, the Daily Dose of Cute, your blogmistress' penchant for inventing new words, or anything else you enjoy.
Let me reiterate, once again, that I don't want anyone to feel obliged to contribute financially, especially if money is tight. Aside from valuing feminist work, the other goal of fundraising is so Iain and I don't have to struggle on behalf of the blog, and I don't want anyone else to struggle themselves in exchange. There is a big enough readership that neither should have to happen.
I also want say thank you, so very much, to each of you who donates or has donated, whether monthly or as a one-off. I am profoundly grateful—and I don't take a single cent for granted. I've not the words to express the depth of my appreciation, besides these: This community couldn't exist without that support, truly. Thank you.
My thanks as well to everyone who contributes to the space in other ways, whether as a regular contributor, a moderator, a guest contributor, a transcriber, and/or as someone who takes the time to send me the occasional note of support and encouragement. This community couldn't exist without you, either.
---------------------
* I know there are people who resent these reminders, but there are also people who appreciate them, so I've now taken to doing them every other month, in the hopes that will make a good compromise.
** Managing Shakesville as a safe space requires, in addition to the time of our volunteer mods, my full-time commitment, and my salary is drawn exclusively from donations. I do not raise funds by corporate or content-generated advertising, as past attempts have resulted in ads served that violated the safe space, and I do not raise funds by required subscription, i.e. locking content behind a pay wall, as I want Shakesville to be accessible as possible irrespective of one's financial situation.
I cannot afford to do this full-time for free, but, even if I could, fundraising is also one of the most feminist acts I do here. I ask to be paid for my work because progressive feminist advocacy has value.
[Please Note: I am not seeking suggestions on how to raise revenue; I am asking for donations in exchange for the work of providing valued content in as safe and accessible a space as possible.]
Pranks and the Rape Culture
[Trigger warning for bullying/child abuse, incest, sexual violence.]
Yesterday, I wrote about a school-sanctioned parental prank at a high school in Minnesota, in which sports captains were blindfolded and promised a special kiss from a classmate, but were instead kissed by their parents. In the video of the incident, parents can be seen planting big smooches on their kids; one parent-child couple rolls around on the floor, and one mom grabs her son's hand and puts it on her butt. The entire scene is played for huge laughs.
Shaker Demivierge dropped into comments the link to an editorial in the local newspaper, which runs interference on behalf of the school and parents. There's a lot of minimizing and excuse-making and finger-wagging at anyone who takes issue with the "prank," and then there's this pathetic admonishment not to believe your lying eyes:
Some of those children who were raped by someone they knew were raped by their parents. And many more will have been subjected to inappropriate sexual contact that doesn't meet the technical definition of rape.
Do the editors of the Rosemount TownPages believe that a parent who sexually abuses hir child will self-select out of a public event at which they have been given license to make out with hir kid? Because that's not how abusers work. That there was even a chance that a parent who's sexually abused hir kid just got an official stamp of approval from mandated reporters to go for it should underline how incredibly inappropriate this incident was, irrespective of what it "looked like," or what we might like to assume.
And, listen, I'm not a parent (but I am a daughter), and it's my impression that most parents, even the best ones, sometimes forget what it's like to be a kid. That's not a function of parenting; it's a function of human nature. I forget sometimes what it's like to be a kid, inclined as are we all to cast our minds backwards and look out through the eyes of memory with perspectives and instincts formed in the intervening years.
But I suspect that what constitutes a not-passionate kiss to me now, as an adult woman, would be very different than what constituted a not-passionate kiss to me as a teenage girl. A standard good-night kiss with my husband would have turned my legs to jelly when I was an unsophisticated kid, so new to the world of sexuality that when the math teacher on whom I had a crush gave me an entirely appropriate kiss on the cheek at the end of the year, I nearly fainted. (Or jizzed in my pants. Or both.)
I guess I'm just not sure that what feels not-passionate to a parent who knows zie's kissing hir kid definitely feels the same way to the kid who doesn't know zie's kissing hir parent. And that's is, suffice it to say, a problem.
Yesterday, I wrote about a school-sanctioned parental prank at a high school in Minnesota, in which sports captains were blindfolded and promised a special kiss from a classmate, but were instead kissed by their parents. In the video of the incident, parents can be seen planting big smooches on their kids; one parent-child couple rolls around on the floor, and one mom grabs her son's hand and puts it on her butt. The entire scene is played for huge laughs.
Shaker Demivierge dropped into comments the link to an editorial in the local newspaper, which runs interference on behalf of the school and parents. There's a lot of minimizing and excuse-making and finger-wagging at anyone who takes issue with the "prank," and then there's this pathetic admonishment not to believe your lying eyes:
The parents hammed it up as they played their part. At least, we assume nobody was making out as intensely as the video seems to show. [Rosemount High School principal John Wollersheim] and others who were there say they weren't, and we tend to believe them. Parents have taken the opportunity at many other RHS pep fests to make their kids a little uncomfortable, but we suspect they'd all draw the line at the kind of passionate kisses the video seemed to show.Just casually assuming that every parent would "draw the line" at sexual intimacy with hir own child is absurd. I also wrote yesterday about the CDC survey which found that "Nearly 1 in 5 women (18.3%) and 1 in 71 men (1.4%) in the United States have been raped at some time in their lives," and, of those survivors, 42.2% of female victims experienced their first completed rape before age 18, and 27.8% of male victims experienced their first rape when they were 10 years of age or younger. Over half of all survivors reported being raped by someone they knew.
Some of those children who were raped by someone they knew were raped by their parents. And many more will have been subjected to inappropriate sexual contact that doesn't meet the technical definition of rape.
Do the editors of the Rosemount TownPages believe that a parent who sexually abuses hir child will self-select out of a public event at which they have been given license to make out with hir kid? Because that's not how abusers work. That there was even a chance that a parent who's sexually abused hir kid just got an official stamp of approval from mandated reporters to go for it should underline how incredibly inappropriate this incident was, irrespective of what it "looked like," or what we might like to assume.
And, listen, I'm not a parent (but I am a daughter), and it's my impression that most parents, even the best ones, sometimes forget what it's like to be a kid. That's not a function of parenting; it's a function of human nature. I forget sometimes what it's like to be a kid, inclined as are we all to cast our minds backwards and look out through the eyes of memory with perspectives and instincts formed in the intervening years.
But I suspect that what constitutes a not-passionate kiss to me now, as an adult woman, would be very different than what constituted a not-passionate kiss to me as a teenage girl. A standard good-night kiss with my husband would have turned my legs to jelly when I was an unsophisticated kid, so new to the world of sexuality that when the math teacher on whom I had a crush gave me an entirely appropriate kiss on the cheek at the end of the year, I nearly fainted. (Or jizzed in my pants. Or both.)
I guess I'm just not sure that what feels not-passionate to a parent who knows zie's kissing hir kid definitely feels the same way to the kid who doesn't know zie's kissing hir parent. And that's is, suffice it to say, a problem.
So the Republicans Had a Debate Last Night
Yay! Another debate! It had been almost twelve seconds without a Republican Primary debate. I was beginning to go through withdrawal! (Please note that you may be in the throes of Republican Primary debate withdrawal if you experience any of the following symptoms: Joy, smiling, a creeping sense of hope for the nation's future.)
I'm sure there's a transcript somewhere, but who cares, amirite? Official Shakeville Transcript: Taxes, Reagan, illegals, Jesus, bootstraps, taxes, Obama stinks.
The most exciting thing about last night's debate was that Rick Perry, who is definitely still IN IT TO WIN IT, promised to get back in the game. He's gonna go big or go home, because he didn't come here to make friends. True Fact: Rick Perry believes he's on a reality show.
Some other highlights from (I hope you're sitting down) the last (definitely totally for sure) Republican Primary debate of 2011 (sob!):
Mitt Romney tells Newt Gingrich he's rich and zany RIGHT TO HIS FACE! Oh snap!

Newt Gingrich leads everyone in a rousing singalong of "Funkytown."

"Raise your hand if you are a paternalistic fuckbrained bigot whose name rhymes with Zanblorum."

I'm sure there's a transcript somewhere, but who cares, amirite? Official Shakeville Transcript: Taxes, Reagan, illegals, Jesus, bootstraps, taxes, Obama stinks.
The most exciting thing about last night's debate was that Rick Perry, who is definitely still IN IT TO WIN IT, promised to get back in the game. He's gonna go big or go home, because he didn't come here to make friends. True Fact: Rick Perry believes he's on a reality show.
Some other highlights from (I hope you're sitting down) the last (definitely totally for sure) Republican Primary debate of 2011 (sob!):
Newt Gingrich leads everyone in a rousing singalong of "Funkytown."
"Raise your hand if you are a paternalistic fuckbrained bigot whose name rhymes with Zanblorum."
Langganan:
Postingan (Atom)