Exiled Online is one of my favorite sites, like, ever. The writers are oftentimes assholes and have a somewhat sexist slant to some of their articles, much like the one I just read regarding Sylvia Plath's husband (oh yeah!), Ted Hughes (link). Although, I found this to be pure poetry:
"Promiscuity was the norm, for men and women. I remember when I saw Hughes read his own verse, at the Center for Fine Arts in San Francisco. This was when Crow had come out and Hughes was as close to a rock star as any poet was going to get, so there was a big crowd, excited, way better looking than the typical poetry crowd. Hughes came to the stage, bigger and more impressive than I’d expected-he had that ex-RAF look that I thought only existed in movies-and before he could get started, this hippie guy stood up and screamed toward somebody several rows back, 'You are still my wife, Karen! You are STILL MY WIFE!' His target audience, shall we say, was this tall dark-haired gypsy-looking woman who flipped him off and laughed at him while he ranted. Tough crowd, is what I’m saying here, and not always the guys who won. Martyred virgins…you didn’t see too many of those. If Sylvia took that road, it was because she wanted to. I ‘spec’ poor ol’ Ted had very little idea what was going on; that’s what usually happens when you play straight man to a suicidal drama queen."
Lovely. However, some of us egoistic American women are angry for pretty good reasons. I NEVER LIKED PLATH SO MUCH OKAY?????
Monday, March 30, 2009
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Operation Bipartisan Hummus
3/17
I find something some members of my family participate in morally repugnant.
… all kidding and criticism I’ve previously made against the Christian right conservative wing of America aside … (But all of those words as adjectives of a big mishmashed group of blankity blank should just not intermingle anyway. ANYWAY)
Briefly: I have an aunt who is a devout Christian zealot. She came to Jesus in her late twenties/early 30s. She believes every one should share these ideals. To give myself just as harsh judgment, I’m a control freak who thinks the world would run oh so much better if it would just succumb to all of my demands.
Well really, only sometimes. But I think that is normal.
So today I got up early on my spring break and drove a few hours to have lunch with my Auntie, because she has been asking me to come down and I do like spending time with her. Usually we end up having a good time.
We were going to go shopping (we need all kinds of new house shit—we are moving, pitching the ancient not to mention the things we’ve used and had since our first marriages—you just don’t need the same crappy spatula, frying pans, wall hangings, etc, you’ve had for ten years) but I ended up going with my parents. Kind of lame, sure, but C stayed behind and worked his ass of packing shit up. Hey, I do my share plus he has more time off, so there. Hey, isn’t it ridiculous that I feel I have to answer to why I shopped instead of helping my hub. Everything was on sale, okay? But I did get to shop where the really rich white people go, yay.
On the ride to the restaurant, Christian soft rock blared in her minivan. She honestly just likes listening to it, really; she doesn’t want to brainwash anyone. We carried on what seemed to be a normal conversation, but it did revolve around my grandparents, which is normal. My grandparents are pretty much a couple of pissed off old folks and frankly I don’t think they like my aunt for whatever reasons. For example, they haven’t been eating properly; they haven’t even kept food in the house while remaining pretty much reclusive most of the time. They do get out to gamble, however, so I’m sure they stock up then.
Out of good will, my aunt went and bought them groceries to keep in the house. She got a bunch of deli stuff, ready to eat salads and meats and stuff. I could eat like that three days out of the week I think. They were happy to get the food, but pissed that she took the money to pay for it (which was only $100) out of their account. They are probably both a little unstable and they don’t like something about her. Kind of a fucked up thing to feel for your offspring, I guess, but I couldn’t vouch for that. My mom said she never really felt loved by them, and I think she’s moved on quite nicely from that revelation, relatively speaking.
To cut to what it is I have a problem with, my aunt and her husband are missionaries. Yeesh. Their groups go and build churches (in Haiti and soon, possibly, Jamaica) that are half regular church and half outdoor covering so that they can preach to them the gospel before going into the covered church that serves as a health clinic. Yes, they indoctrinate before they medicate! Isn’t it a wonder that people get pissed off about this business and kill missionaries (I’m not saying assassins' reasons are noble, however, duh).
And this is normal, respected behavior in their clique.
I’m rusty on all my bible skills, but I’m sure that’s wrong even in their book.
Why not form some multireligious council, and if the people in an impoverished country really do need outside medical help, build a fucking hospital and set up a stand with multi denominational information. Not forced on anyone. Yeah, that won’t happen. This, the here and now, seems to be an expected result after fucking with so many of these countries. Might as well try to pseudo-heal it.
Other bubbles have started to leak recently. I hope American arch-conservatism is next; it gives me the heebie jeebies.
I find something some members of my family participate in morally repugnant.
… all kidding and criticism I’ve previously made against the Christian right conservative wing of America aside … (But all of those words as adjectives of a big mishmashed group of blankity blank should just not intermingle anyway. ANYWAY)
Briefly: I have an aunt who is a devout Christian zealot. She came to Jesus in her late twenties/early 30s. She believes every one should share these ideals. To give myself just as harsh judgment, I’m a control freak who thinks the world would run oh so much better if it would just succumb to all of my demands.
Well really, only sometimes. But I think that is normal.
So today I got up early on my spring break and drove a few hours to have lunch with my Auntie, because she has been asking me to come down and I do like spending time with her. Usually we end up having a good time.
We were going to go shopping (we need all kinds of new house shit—we are moving, pitching the ancient not to mention the things we’ve used and had since our first marriages—you just don’t need the same crappy spatula, frying pans, wall hangings, etc, you’ve had for ten years) but I ended up going with my parents. Kind of lame, sure, but C stayed behind and worked his ass of packing shit up. Hey, I do my share plus he has more time off, so there. Hey, isn’t it ridiculous that I feel I have to answer to why I shopped instead of helping my hub. Everything was on sale, okay? But I did get to shop where the really rich white people go, yay.
On the ride to the restaurant, Christian soft rock blared in her minivan. She honestly just likes listening to it, really; she doesn’t want to brainwash anyone. We carried on what seemed to be a normal conversation, but it did revolve around my grandparents, which is normal. My grandparents are pretty much a couple of pissed off old folks and frankly I don’t think they like my aunt for whatever reasons. For example, they haven’t been eating properly; they haven’t even kept food in the house while remaining pretty much reclusive most of the time. They do get out to gamble, however, so I’m sure they stock up then.
Out of good will, my aunt went and bought them groceries to keep in the house. She got a bunch of deli stuff, ready to eat salads and meats and stuff. I could eat like that three days out of the week I think. They were happy to get the food, but pissed that she took the money to pay for it (which was only $100) out of their account. They are probably both a little unstable and they don’t like something about her. Kind of a fucked up thing to feel for your offspring, I guess, but I couldn’t vouch for that. My mom said she never really felt loved by them, and I think she’s moved on quite nicely from that revelation, relatively speaking.
To cut to what it is I have a problem with, my aunt and her husband are missionaries. Yeesh. Their groups go and build churches (in Haiti and soon, possibly, Jamaica) that are half regular church and half outdoor covering so that they can preach to them the gospel before going into the covered church that serves as a health clinic. Yes, they indoctrinate before they medicate! Isn’t it a wonder that people get pissed off about this business and kill missionaries (I’m not saying assassins' reasons are noble, however, duh).
And this is normal, respected behavior in their clique.
I’m rusty on all my bible skills, but I’m sure that’s wrong even in their book.
Why not form some multireligious council, and if the people in an impoverished country really do need outside medical help, build a fucking hospital and set up a stand with multi denominational information. Not forced on anyone. Yeah, that won’t happen. This, the here and now, seems to be an expected result after fucking with so many of these countries. Might as well try to pseudo-heal it.
Other bubbles have started to leak recently. I hope American arch-conservatism is next; it gives me the heebie jeebies.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Semicolon Theatre Presents: A Reading List Including Reviews Made of Pretension & Boredom
Here is a short list of what I'm reading right now; I've yet to finish any of them and I am at different stages in each (I do finish books, yes). Nevertheless, I feel I am qualified enough to offer a short review for each.
The Chomsky-Foucault Debate on Human Nature, Noam Chomsky & Michel Foucault with a foreward by John Raichman
Review: I think a quote from Chomsky can adequately sum up the knowledge I've gained from this book so far: "CHOMSKY: Again, I'm oversimplifying."
Ubik, Phillip K. Dick
Review: To say that the feminine presence in this book is diminutive of what women as people could offer the novel (not to mention the genre itself) really conveys the inanimate stupidity that exists at my core.
The Idiot, Fyodor Dostoevsky
Review: I officially have a decapitation fetish now; I think I'll lay off this one till spring has sprung a bit more.
Winter in the Blood: The Classic Tale of Indian Life Today, James Welch
Review: Watch closely as an unnamed individual of mixed-blood American Indian heritage tries to help his severely fragmented community find an identity they can collectively thrive in since so much of their culture has been wiped from the annals of history and thousands of their ancestors have been slaughtered (seriously, though, I'm only like ten pages in).
The Chomsky-Foucault Debate on Human Nature, Noam Chomsky & Michel Foucault with a foreward by John Raichman
Review: I think a quote from Chomsky can adequately sum up the knowledge I've gained from this book so far: "CHOMSKY: Again, I'm oversimplifying."
Ubik, Phillip K. Dick
Review: To say that the feminine presence in this book is diminutive of what women as people could offer the novel (not to mention the genre itself) really conveys the inanimate stupidity that exists at my core.
The Idiot, Fyodor Dostoevsky
Review: I officially have a decapitation fetish now; I think I'll lay off this one till spring has sprung a bit more.
Winter in the Blood: The Classic Tale of Indian Life Today, James Welch
Review: Watch closely as an unnamed individual of mixed-blood American Indian heritage tries to help his severely fragmented community find an identity they can collectively thrive in since so much of their culture has been wiped from the annals of history and thousands of their ancestors have been slaughtered (seriously, though, I'm only like ten pages in).
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Regarding my revulsion of average old white dudes
Bill. Perhaps he isn't the average old white guy, but he's close. I guess I wouldn't say he's totally average because he tries real hard to be hip, sort of. He wears birkenstocks to class, rain or shine, and some days he ties a navy blue bandanna around his big wrinkly forehead.
The class I have with him is a graduate level course and he was originally supposed to be there only as an interpreter for a Chinese foreign exchange student who was doing an audit of the class. She's not there any more, yet he still attends. He is constantly interrupting the instructor for pretty pathetic reasons, like telling the class what exactly a metaphor or simile is (third, fourth year, and graduate level English students, mind you) and reminding us how Emerson and Whitman were popular for the same themes we are covering now (this is a Native American literature course, so I'm guessing that those two just might have borrowed here and there and maintained their popularity through white privilege, just a shot in the dark).
How disrespectful of him to treat the rest of us as a bunch of know-nothing boobs. In addition to his disruptions, he likes to bring up what "his generation" had to go through. I'm sure he's in his 70s and gets around pretty well; good for him. But what did you do for us? Look where we're at now! You expect me to respect you by virtue of your age/forced military experiences alone? That's like me expecting him to respect me just for menstruating--neither of us have had choices in the matter and it's been a bloody mess.
Bill is a microcosm of the idiocy white, patriarchal America represents to me: bullheaded preaching of an outdated message (what can you do for your country? ad nauseam) and woman, you better be thrilled about the freedoms we've allowed you to have.
I cut him off at every opportunity, and I can't tell if I'm doing it to piss him off or to help preserve the few strands of sanity I have left. To his Emerson comment, I said of course literature as written by white males was popular and that they ripped off oral traditions as heard from members of various native nations. Every time he starts to bring up WWII and whatnot, I start with what we've recently discussed about native cultural memories such as Wounded Knee and the Trail of Tears. Maybe's he's getting the hint. While discussing the transient feminine presence in Momaday's House Made of Dawn (because the sporadic female characters represent more than just the physical beings in the story, IMO), the class headed toward the predictable "well she's the Madonna and the whore here!" discourse. I said that some of those behaviors are just inherent in some women (not all as we are individuals too) and that just because women act sexually or aggressively doesn't make them whores; likewise, if they act naively or innocently in some aspects, they're not necessarily angelic virgins either. He turned to me after I said that, with his jowls a-quivering, and barely murmured a "But-". I gave him a sharp, satisfied look and he turned right back around, silent.
Some may say that I'm sexist. I don't think that's possible. I will say I have a prejudice against most white men over the age of 50; that's a fair statement. For me to be sexist, however, is to imply that I have had an equal playing field as most men have had--both academically and in the workplace. As far as we have progressed as a society, American women still can't claim that and it took me a while to admit that to myself. I can give you three times when I've been passed over on promotions because of my sex and at least two professors who judged me based on my sex alone. It gets old. I hope this clears up the why and what for about my disenchantment with old white men.
The class I have with him is a graduate level course and he was originally supposed to be there only as an interpreter for a Chinese foreign exchange student who was doing an audit of the class. She's not there any more, yet he still attends. He is constantly interrupting the instructor for pretty pathetic reasons, like telling the class what exactly a metaphor or simile is (third, fourth year, and graduate level English students, mind you) and reminding us how Emerson and Whitman were popular for the same themes we are covering now (this is a Native American literature course, so I'm guessing that those two just might have borrowed here and there and maintained their popularity through white privilege, just a shot in the dark).
How disrespectful of him to treat the rest of us as a bunch of know-nothing boobs. In addition to his disruptions, he likes to bring up what "his generation" had to go through. I'm sure he's in his 70s and gets around pretty well; good for him. But what did you do for us? Look where we're at now! You expect me to respect you by virtue of your age/forced military experiences alone? That's like me expecting him to respect me just for menstruating--neither of us have had choices in the matter and it's been a bloody mess.
Bill is a microcosm of the idiocy white, patriarchal America represents to me: bullheaded preaching of an outdated message (what can you do for your country? ad nauseam) and woman, you better be thrilled about the freedoms we've allowed you to have.
I cut him off at every opportunity, and I can't tell if I'm doing it to piss him off or to help preserve the few strands of sanity I have left. To his Emerson comment, I said of course literature as written by white males was popular and that they ripped off oral traditions as heard from members of various native nations. Every time he starts to bring up WWII and whatnot, I start with what we've recently discussed about native cultural memories such as Wounded Knee and the Trail of Tears. Maybe's he's getting the hint. While discussing the transient feminine presence in Momaday's House Made of Dawn (because the sporadic female characters represent more than just the physical beings in the story, IMO), the class headed toward the predictable "well she's the Madonna and the whore here!" discourse. I said that some of those behaviors are just inherent in some women (not all as we are individuals too) and that just because women act sexually or aggressively doesn't make them whores; likewise, if they act naively or innocently in some aspects, they're not necessarily angelic virgins either. He turned to me after I said that, with his jowls a-quivering, and barely murmured a "But-". I gave him a sharp, satisfied look and he turned right back around, silent.
Some may say that I'm sexist. I don't think that's possible. I will say I have a prejudice against most white men over the age of 50; that's a fair statement. For me to be sexist, however, is to imply that I have had an equal playing field as most men have had--both academically and in the workplace. As far as we have progressed as a society, American women still can't claim that and it took me a while to admit that to myself. I can give you three times when I've been passed over on promotions because of my sex and at least two professors who judged me based on my sex alone. It gets old. I hope this clears up the why and what for about my disenchantment with old white men.