LiveJournal, maybe?
Once again, and more and more, I am considering starting a friends-locked LiveJournal. Yes, LiveJournal! Why not continue to do password-protected blog posts on here, you might ask? Well, I have to send out the password each time and that feels dramatic. People who don’t have the password can see that the post is there and that has led to stupid drama in the past. And somehow I feel like it would be comforting to steal away somewhere that’s on a completely different system, totally third-party managed, not a domain I own and a platform I manage myself. Might not make much sense but for some reason it appeals to me in a way that doing password-protected posts here doesn’t, at the moment.
I won’t abandon this blog (and hell, I might not even start that LJ at all, I might just talk about it forever and never do it) and I actually hate blog posts where the blogger talks about how they don’t feel comfortable posting anymore because of what people might think. But that’s my situation and it’s not as simple as “what people might think” in the reductive sense of, OMG I base my entire self-worth on the approval and validation of strangers. No, it’s just, like Mary J. Blige, I too do not want drama in my life. And I’m sick of feeling eyes on me, of people who have their own expectations of what I should write or should do. Or people who have just decided I’m The Enemy and no matter what I say, they’re going to pounce on it and tell me how wrong I am. Or my mom will read my posts and call me up and say she doesn’t want me to get mad but am I okay, really, am I, can I please take care of HER needs by NOT working shit out in a way that’s helpful for me? For some people, I’m not enough of an activist w/ my blogging – it’s too personal, everyone hates navel-gazing, I mean no one CARES, get over yourself, geez. For others I am not personal enough, they want to know more, they feel entitled to every detail. And for still others I’m just doin’ it wrong, no matter what.
Some things I’ve had on my mind and wanted to write about are:
- My experiences w/ depression – past, present, possibly future. Musings of all manner along those lines. In particular I keep thinking about something mentioned on BADD – like Melissa at Shakesville, I wonder, should I call myself a person w/ a disability? Whenever I try that on for size, it feels wrong, like I’m appropriating, or trying to give myself a label to get attention, or making a mountain out of a mole hill, I mean I’m not REALLY disabled, and wouldn’t the REAL disabled people get pissed off if every person who just has DEPRESSION starts calling themselves “disabled?” -But that’s the problem, right, the “just” – JUST depression.
Is the whole identity thing getting out of hand, anyway? Sometimes I see people with so many comma-delimited self-descriptors that it makes me roll my eyes. But I think it’s important for people to self-identify and name who and what they are. But I’ve also seen people abuse it, as a way to manipulate. They had ISSUES but they cloaked it in identity. I don’t want to look like one of those people. And the eye-rolling, too, well maybe that’s just knee-jerk from growing up in a culture saturated w/ Fox News type media, where “political correctness” is a big joke… look at those silly people making up terminology! Woman of color? Person of size? Sex worker? Haw haw haw, come on now, we’re the WASPy upper-middle-class straight dudes and we set the terms, not you, silly Others!
And on and on along those lines.
- How sick I am of people misusing the word privilege. Hint: If you put the word “unearned” in front of it, you are talking about something totally different.
- More about my history of wanting to go into sex work but never doing it.
- Sex 2.0 anxiety and how I am really worried that once again I’ll end up doing everything even though it’s supposed to be a committee, but I can’t write about that because I have to be all diplomatic because I’m the founder and there are certain things I can’t say because I’m a figurehead, or something. And, more generally, how people drop the ball and let me down a lot and have done so throughout my life, and it’s a pattern, and I hate it.
- Kind of along the same lines as the disability thing, calling myself an abuse survivor. I know that’s what I am but since I didn’t have physical bruises it’s not REALLY abuse, and it would be disrespectful to REAL abuse survivors to try to appropriate that, wouldn’t it? Etc.
- Posting old written journal entries for reflection. Sometimes it helps to see things typed out on the screen in a nice CMS interface, don’t ask. It just does, for me.
- How I don’t trust people who don’t share certain beliefs, because it’s not just theoretical nebulous “beliefs,” it’s the knowledge that if given the chance they would take control of my life away from me, and indeed they work every day to do so. Basically the same thing Apostate’s commenter says here.
- I mentioned this on Twitter the other day, but I am SO sick of whenever you bring up some instance of sexism, some dude is so quick to point out that that doesn’t happen JUST along gender lines! Some dude who is TOTALLY NOT SEXIST, btw. And don’t you forget it. He’s so not sexist, that he gets squeamish if you even mention sexism, and goes out of his way to show that it’s not “just” discrimination based on gender. Because that’s how we know it’s important, see? If it were JUST affecting women, JUST along gender lines, then it’s not a big deal, but once it affects men, well that’s a whole other story!
But don’t mention this to him, because he is NOT SEXIST, and you’re a feminist who looks for reasons to get offended and sees things that aren’t there and you probably don’t shave your legs, either. Smile!
- I hate when men describe me as “angry.” Go fuck yourself. I need to be able to say my piece and not get pigeonholed in that oh so typically sexist way. And hey here’s a thought: if I do happen to be angry about something (different from ANGRY as my ENTIRE BEING) – maybe there’s a REASON for it, have you thought of that??
- I hate when people make jokes that are so old and have been said a million times and weren’t funny the first million times anyway. I should put “jokes” in snark quotes, to be more accurate. Do they really think they’re the first person to think of that? Do they really think they’re a laff riot?
- Can I tell you how little I care about social media marketing, personal branding, and all that other crap? Can I tell you how absolutely bored I am of conversations about strategies for viral marketing and being transparent?
- Work stuff that might get me dooced, but I probably wouldn’t even mention that on a friends-locked LiveJournal. That’s always been beyond the pale. -Well, except for that secret sex and job hunting Blogspot blog I used to have. But that’s another story.
There’s more but I’m forgetting it.
And to be fair part of why I haven’t written as much is time, but that’s also a cop-out as a full excuse, because if I didn’t feel so inhibited I would find the time. I would write this stuff instead of clicking around on Twitter and Tumblr and shit.
Next weekend in the ATL: MondoHomo 2009!
I love this! MondoHomo, a five-day festival of awesome, is entering its third year, and it’s all organized by local activist Kiki Carr (you might recall Rusty and I interviewed her back in February 2007) who just blows me away with her talent and devotion. Does she never sleep? Maybe I’ll learn her secret because after MondoHomo, she and I are going to be collaborating on a new project for Atlanta; but stay tuned for that.
Here are all the details about MondoHomo; yeah, it’s a lot, this is five days of stuff, people! Rusty and I will definitely be there Saturday night for a the Film Love portion (hosted by Andy Ditzler, whom we also interviewed… fancy that); the rest is still up in the air for us. But if you are on the fence about whether you want to go, take the time to read below (detailed info after the jump) because there truly is something for everyone.
(more…)
Sex 2.0: Sex Work in the Time of Obama
Pole tax, hardy har har… and activism
I feel obligated to write something about the astoundingly moronic SB 91, but whenever I try, I just find myself at a loss for words. I’m overcome w/ exasperation and wonder why I should waste my damn time. But then I think, well, if no one “wastes their time” spelling out, yet again, everything that is WRONG w/ this bullshit, then it’ll just keep on happening, like it always does. And far too many people, who are otherwise intelligent and thoughtful people, just accept these stupid lines about sex work that are built into society without any questioning. It’s not a conscious, “Yes, I accept that;” it’s just, you know, everyone knows that’s how it is, so what is there to question? Or maybe a political blogger here and there writes about it as an amusing one-off, w/ some stupid un-funny joke (e.g., “pole tax”) before moving on to the REAL IMPORTANT issues.
I get so fed up w/ constantly rehashing the 101-level stuff, but yet, I know it’s important. That’s how people’s minds are changed, when they’re able to see a perspective they had never considered before. (And, to clarify: I really don’t mind it one-on-one, w/ friends or people I know are engaging in good faith. Like when Lain DM’ed me on Twitter the other day asking why one would oppose an anti-sex trafficking event, and wondered if it was because law enforcement targets non-trafficked sex workers. I was happy to send him informational links.)
A related story. When Griftdrift wrote that Jack Murphy said there’s a direct correlation between strip clubs and child prostitution (don’t you just LOVE how these people pull this nonsense out of their asses and everyone just nods their heads sagely??) it reminded me of a freelance work offer Rusty and I had a few years ago. It was for an organization that purportedly provided resources to victims of child sex trafficking. I don’t know if it was Innocence Atlanta, but they did have Innocence in their name. Will Hinton was the one told us about it. So, who could be opposed to that, right? But we were skeptical from the beginning, because we know to be. We combed through all the verbiage on their existing site and found some shit that would slip under many people’s radar… like, “a business owner might give a reformed stripper a second chance with a job.” Wait, what? I thought you were an org focused on child victims of sex trafficking. What’s this talk of strippers? And reformed, what’s that shit?
We turned down the job. Couldn’t do it in good conscience.
I wish there was an active sex workers’ rights group here in Atlanta. I really tried w/ the 2007 International Day to End Violence Against Sex Workers, I really did. I was encouraged because two other people organized it w/ me, so hey, that’s two others that are interested in fighting the good fight! It was, in fact, one of them that proposed doing something in the first place! And we had a sign-up sheet for an email list that night, and lots of people signed up, and there was talk of doing a march through midtown on Dec. 17 the following year, and then… nothing.
A grad student (at least I think she’s a grad student) from the UGA Women’s Studies department, whom I met briefly at Sex 2.0, emailed me to let me know about an upcoming conference on sex trafficking in Macon. She thought a protest would be a good idea, and she wanted to know what I had in mind, too, as far as local action for sex workers’ rights activism (in response to my March 3 post where I sighed about the lack of activity in Atlanta). I told her, well, I wish there were more of us. I wish there was a critical mass. I wish we had a SWOP chapter, or something.
But I can’t do everything. And I’m worn out.
And sometimes I feel like that’s a cop out – even as I try my best to remember Melissa’s words of wisdom.
I’ve said before that I’m a reluctant activist, or even not really an activist at all, because I’m not made for front-lines shit. It’s true, because time and again I see how that shit exhausts me mentally, emotionally, and physically. And yet I still feel driven and have this extreme inner conflict. I wish I were one of those people who could organize, fight, rally the troops, not get discouraged; I feel like, why say I can’t do it, because then no one’s doing it, and this is important work that needs to be done.
Then it just all goes down the rabbit hole and I start thinking about the nature of civil disobedience and my mind drifts to the French Revolution… yeah.
If people don’t make their voices heard and agitate for change, then (surprise!) nothing changes. But maybe I also need to remember that there are many different ways to make one’s voice heard and agitate for change, and that real substantive change doesn’t happen overnight. I just worry that too many people are going to take the back seat and say, “Oh, I’ll just blog about it,” when it takes REAL WORLD action, too. But at the same time, some of us just aren’t cut out for a whole lot of real world action – but we want to do our part among a critical mass of others who ARE.
*sigh*
“Welfare”
When I was reading The Way We Never Were, I had the realization that my grandmother has basically been on welfare for the past ~35 years. In the book, Stephanie Coontz talks about how the term “welfare” has been manipulated by politicians so that it represents a poor black urban population living off the government; there is a stigma attached to the term because surely no one would want to be that (racism, classism, etc. all nicely wrapped up in one package). Ronald Reagan was instrumental in embedding this understanding in the political discourse with his use of the term “welfare queen.”
Coontz talks about how the 1950s was a uniquely prosperous decade because of so-called “entitlement programs” on a scale unseen before and since, not because of mythical up-by-the-bootstraps individual action. People arguably pulled themselves up by their bootstraps, sure – thanks to government programs that enabled them to pursue opportunities. But no one thinks of the government investments in white middle-class families as welfare – even though technically that’s exactly what it is. (See also Coontz’s 1989 essay, “In Search Of A Golden Age.”) Funny, that. My grandmother receiving benefit payments from the Army every month following my grandfather’s death in 1978 is not social welfare, but making certain others jump through hoops to receive a paltry amount of food stamps, for a limited period of time until they get a job, dammit, is.
Perspective and definitions are interesting, aren’t they?
Quote of the day
Glenn Greenwald, on being called “shrill” by David Brooks Tobin Harshaw:
One is guilty of the sin of “shrillness” if one: (a) argues that there is something fundamentally — rather than marginally — wrong with our political and media establishment and/or (b) fails to use suitably restrained, muted and respectful language when expressing those critiques. Thus, one is “shrill” if one says that George Bush committed felonies by spying on Americans without warrants and torturing people and should be treated like any other accused criminal (rather than saying: “Bush might have circumvented some legal constraints and gone a little too far in trying to keep us safe”). One is “shrill” if one says that establishment journalism, at its core and by design, is principally devoted to serving the interests and amplifying the claims of the Washington establishment (rather than saying: “Journalists could do a better job of reporting some stories”), etc. etc.
“Shrillness” – the first cousin of “Unseriousness” – is the conceptual instrument used to deter and (when that fails) demonize those who view the political and media establishment as corrupt at its core. It’s a way of demanding that everyone just calm down, avoid impetuous and inflammatory language, and stop acting as though there’s anything seriously wrong with our political and media elites.
Via Aspasia, who points out the feminist connections and is right on the money when she says:
Switch out the journalistic/Washington specific terms for those of feminism (including sex work activism), our society, et. al. and it fits, doesn’t it?
Fragments of longer blog posts, condensed
- Almost the whole office watched the inauguration yesterday, packed into the two conference rooms to watch it on the big screens. Right when Obama was taking the oath, the CNN.com live feed crapped out and, in something not unlike irony, we had to switch to the FoxNews.com live feed.
- Inspired, etc.? Yes, I am all that. I just hope people don’t continue w/ their deifying of Obama. It unnerves me.
- White male progressive-identified bloggers will fall all over themselves to call out the most obvious forms of racism. But sexism? Now don’t be silly. No need to call that out, we can look past it, there are more important things, it’s a “difference of opinion.” Don’t go being some histrionic feminist about it, they’re pro-choice, what more do you want??
- Back to inspiration for a moment so I can try to focus on positive stuff – Lia inspires me. Check out her new blog. She’s been posting some of her sermons, and they rock. Who would have thought I would be saying such things about a Baptist minister? Funny how life is sometimes. I enjoy being proven wrong in such things.
- And here’s a question Lia might be able to answer – what is the difference between pastor, preacher, and minister? Is it just semantics? Are they synonyms, or is there an actual difference? If there is, I want to know when to use each one, so I don’t sound ignorant!
- I’m trying chamomile tea in lieu of Ambien. It definitely makes me feel sleepy but last night I still had a hard time falling asleep – it probably took me 2 hours. Rusty thinks I have subconscious performance anxiety about it. He’s probably right; just wish I could get rid of that.
- Rusty and I have a gift registry at Target. I linked it in the sidebar. After we move into our house we’ll have a big housewarming party where we invite people we know from different places and it’s awkward for everyone.
- Aspasia is still on a roll. Her blog just freakin’ rocks.
- And finally, speaking of people who rock, read this post by Jill Brenneman at Bound, Not Gagged. Now.
ETA: Dammit! Left out one other link I was going to add. I am loving this post by Ginmar. (Yes, Ginmar! She and Ren recently laid down arms and acknowledged a common ground, which I find pretty darn cool.) She said I could quote from it extensively so here’s a big blockquote of truth-telling:
Here’s how a rape culture is constructed. A boy is born, and his dad hands him a football before the umbilical cord is cut and freaks out if anybody mistakes his kid for a girl. He teaches him how to be a ‘real man’ which means better than women, because to be a ‘pussy’ or a ‘fag’ is the worst thing in the world. The cartoons he watch features heroes and the stupid girls they rescue. The books he read feature boy heroes. The TV shows he watches are all about men, with women stuck cleaning house—just like Mom!—-or acting sexy and stupid. Sometimes he watches movies about how evil women are. He sees how his dad won’t do housework and leers at women, and hears how his dad’s friends joke about women, and ‘getting some’ and ‘gettng laid’ and winking and laughing at sexist jokes. When he gets to school, he’s surrounded by boys who have been taught the same lessons, and who teach him more. Girls ain’t shit. Girls are stupid, hos, trashy, slutty, easy, lying, worthless, whores, and the enemy. His coaches call his team ‘ladies’ and ‘pussies’ when they don’t perform well. He sees TV shows full of the same messages about women. Magazines are full of naked women. Everywhere he hears the message that women are sluts and it’s stupid for them to pretend otherwise. His friends talk about nailing women, getting a piece, and when they do have sex, they boast about it later and denigrate the girl. He learns lessons about getting girls drunk, working a yes out, and trains.
He never learns about the word ‘rape’ unless some dried up ugly bitch gives a talk about it in some assembly. He learns how to pinch and grope and fondle girls, and how teachers always yell at the girls for reacting or just ignore it. He learns how boys get to do what they want, because they’re boys, and girls have to obey the rules. Girls that resist are dykes, losers, queer, ugly, bitchy, need to get laid, and need to watch themselves.
His parents divorce, and his father calls his wife ‘that bitch’, and tells him never to get married. His dad says the gold digging bitch is trying to bleed him dry, but he was too smart for that. By the time he graduates from high school, he knows of at least one guy who’s put something in a girl’s drink, or forced a girl, or manipulated a girl, or threatened a girl. In college he learns how fraternities score with chicks, and how the key to success is knocking her out. Er, getting her drunk. He might study civil rights as a part of history—and maybe womens’ rights. Men are people. Women are…something else. He might respect other men, but women are just something to fuck. What do they need rights for? Why do they have to bitch so much? They’re only good for one thing.
And then we wonder why they sit there and watch a man set in motion his plans to rape a woman. He grows up learning how to rape but the only rape he knows is when a stranger jumps out of alley with a gun. He knows that women are stupid bitches who need to shut up already, and stop going to parties or wearing short skirts or drinking if they don’t want to ask for it, but what else are they good for? Fat chicks, ugly chicks, hairy-legged lesbos….those are worse than ordinary chicks.
If he doesn’t force women himself, he knows guys who have. He sympathizes, gets defensive, gets angry—at women. He makes excuses. He lines up with other guys at Take Back the Night and shouts slurs at the marchers. It’s a great joke. Bitches need to stop taking themselves too seriously.
Okay! Good night for real now.
ETA #2: Geeeez. :P I guess I had more stuff built up to post about than I’d thought! The latest GA Politics Podcast is up; listen here. Now, that’s it! If I think of anything else, I’ll do a separate post tomorrow. Or maybe get off my ass and right a full post about any of these half-formed fragments!
Life notes as of Jan. 1
Since it’s New Year’s Day, I’ll start this post by saying I have a new resolution. I got the idea from US News & World Report, of all places. They had a cover story called “50 Ways to Improve Your Life in 2009,” which I read in the bathroom at my mom’s house. One of the suggestions was this:
Distill your day’s experiences into a single sentence each day. Call it a “clothes hanger” journal: It provides a framework on which to hang the larger raiments of memory. A few well-chosen words can transport you back to where you were days or years ago. And—if you’re persistent—it can show you the shape of your life over time.
Luann Robins, a 79-year-old grandmother of five who lives in Rhinelander, Wis., has kept such records for most of her life, storing her five-year diaries in a cedar chest at the foot of her bed. “Sometimes they bring back great memories that I might have forgotten,” says Robins. Her journals are filled with comments on the weather, odd events, and her children’s and grandchildren’s news.
This is something different from blogging. I’m going to try to write a few sentences every day – just mundane stuff about what I did that day. This is not to say that mundane stuff won’t appear on the blog, too! But my point is, this is just more of a straight-up record. Like today, I wrote, “Took my car to Nalley Nissan for a routine service appt. Last night watched our friends’ wedding webcast online.” The particular book I’m writing in, I started in September 2003 but sometimes went years between entries. I used to be a prolific journal-keeper, and then I started a blog and moved some of that stuff online. I tried to keep up both, but it was never really the same. I think this is a good balance.
~*~
As much as I’m making my best effort not to be one of those people who, when looking for a house, is totally consumed by it and that’s all they talk about and everyone gets sick of hearing about it, as if they think they’re the only person who ever bought a house – well, I’m going to blog a little about our house hunt!
Monday and Tuesday morning, we went out with our Realtor and looked at houses. In total we’ve seen 15 houses – not including three we didn’t bother going in for various reasons. We’ve been, in our Realtor’s words, “copious note takers” and in typical nerd fashion made a Google document with all the notes and info for the houses we like. We originally had six houses on that list, but after much thought it’s been reduced to three. Here they are:
If these pictures look familiar, it’s because the houses were on the market when we were doing our “driving around and looking” routine in November, and I posted pictures then.
The first one is by far our favorite. When we walked in, we both had that “gut feeling” my mom talked about. But, there’s a problem: the next door neighbors have two big dogs which barked their fool heads off the entire time they were there. Yes, even when we were inside the house, and yes, you could hear them inside; and the master bedroom is on that side of the house. Long story short, we had basically scratched it off our list with much gnashing of teeth. The listing agent emailed our agent and said she and the seller had never heard the dogs bark like that; “yeah right,” we thought, taking it with the appropriate serving of salt. But since then, we’ve driven by the house three times at various times of day and haven’t heard the dogs. I got out and walked around the yard one of those times. Apparently, according to a second email from the listing agent, the neighbors are a nice gay couple who were “mortified” to hear that their dogs were making so much noise. So we’re wary, but haven’t abandoned all hope. We’re going to see the house again tomorrow and knock on the neighbors’ door; hopefully they’ll be home and be reasonable people we can talk to. Cross your fingers for us!
The other two houses are good, too; I could see myself living in all three of them. But the top one is definitely our fave, minus the possible dog situation. :P
Why do people have dogs if they aren’t going to take care of them properly and make sure they have proper obedience training? Who the hell thinks it’s okay for a dog to bark all the time? Like the guy who lives next door to my grandmother, he has a big dog that he leaves in the backyard all the time and it’s always barking – scares my grandmother half to death every time she walks outside. And yes, she’s called the police, and no, there’s nothing they can do. One police officer who came out just made it worse by antagonizing the dog and getting it even more riled up. Recently some teenagers broke into the house on the other side, and the owner was like, “Your dog was barking the whole time and you didn’t think to come see if anything was the matter??” The guy’s answer? “My dog barks all the time” – said with a shrug.
The phrase “defeating the purpose” comes to mind.
But back to house-hunting in general, this reminds me of at Sara’s (awesome, impressive, delicious) Christmas party, when Garrett and I were chatting and I said, “When did this happen? When did we become grown-ups? We’re sitting here talking about mortgages and babies!”
~*~
It will show up in my del.icio.us auto-post tomorrow morning (which, btw, I’m glad to know at least someone reads!) but I just wanted to reiterate how much I love this post by Kim. With the Rick Warren stuff, I’m trying really damn hard not to say “I told you so” to some of the more obnoxiously zealous Obama supporters. Now, if anyone wants to construe this as support for McCain or overt Obama-hate, all I can say is stop being an idiot. I made no secret that I was an Obama supporter in the election, BUT I was really bothered by the groupthink/lock-step mentality I saw among some of his supporters, where you couldn’t question him at all or else you were CAST OFF THE ISLAND. Construing someone as so perfect and flawless unnerved me from the beginning, because it’s just not realistic, and should be especially red-flag-worthy for a candidate who’s trying to run on a platform of being accessible, transparent, and bringing change to the political process.
~*~
Niki sent me this e-card right before I was planning to send it to a bunch of people. By now it’s been all over Twitter so I’m sure it’s old news, but I still find it amusing in the way only someone who takes anti-depressant meds can.
~*~
I have some partially written posts saved in draft mode about things like Peggy Denby of the Midtown Neighbors Association comparing prostitutes to cockroaches; the royally fucked-up situation with Dymond Milburn; and the gang-rape of a San Francisco woman who was attacked for being a lesbian. I will try to finish them when I have the energy. These are important issues and I am, as usual, struggling to find the balance between taking care of myself/not drowning in the mire of upsetting news, and giving these things the attention they need, especially to people who are blissfully ignorant. In the meantime – if you’re a British citizen, please be sure to sign this petition calling to defer any bill on prostitution until after the next general election; and if you’re not a Brit, spread the word!
Tuesday stuff (yet another in a long tradition of non-SEO-friendly titles)
This weekend I saw the movie Milk, commemorating the life of Harvey Milk. It was excellent all around; however there were two things that really stood out to me.
At one point Harvey Milk is talking to Dan White, who showed up at a party drunk. White says something like, “You’ve got an issue!” and Milk replies, with restrained hostility, “This isn’t an issue; this is our lives.” (I’m paraphrasing here; I can’t remember the verbatim quote.)
I was so, so, so glad to hear that sentiment expressed in the movie. it’s something I’ve written about before; but I really don’t think it can be stressed too much, and I also think it’s something that some people just don’t get. (And guess what that is? Ding ding – privilege!) Also, unfortunately sometimes the people who are marginalized and who have their lives cast as “issues” end up adopting the same rhetoric in an attempt to argue their case. It’s understandable, since it’s reactionary – but I think it misses an opportunity to address this very important point. Whenever someone talks about, say for example, abortion being “an issue that divides voters,” this is exactly the point I make if it’s a situation where I’m able to make my voice heard. That sort of dismissal (and really, “dismissal” is not a strong enough word – erasure is more appropriate) is so incredibly offensive that I can’t even articulate it. My life, reduced to a “divisive issue.”
All these various “issues” – they are NOT issues to be debated. I am not an issue. Don’t you dare call me a “single-issue voter” in that sneering holier-than-thou tone.
It also occurs to me that some people really do not have any idea how it feels, on a deep level, to be told that your life is worth less than someone else’s. Stories like this one can help drive it home for some people but that’s mainly on an individual basis (the importance of which I am not denying); how do we make EVERYONE “get it?” It’s a feeling that words cannot convey, so I won’t even try. But if you know what that feels like, there’s no way in hell you can prattle on about “issues,” I don’t believe.
The other part of the movie that stood out to me was this… I’ll quote Melissa’s tweet:
Still stuck on the Anita Bryant bit of MILK where she complains that prostitutes will have to get civil rights, too, if the gays do.
When the clip of Bryant saying that played, I muttered under my breath, “Yeah because that would be soooo awful.” No, we can’t give prostitutes CIVIL RIGHTS! God no! What bothers me is I wonder how many of the other movie-goers even gave it a second thought.
See also: Susie Bright’s reflections.
~*~
I hope Daisy doesn’t mind that I lifted the little tilde-asterisk-tilde divider from her. It’s just so much more visually appealing (yet not overly distracting!) than three plain dashes. I think I’m going to start using it from now on in posts that contain numerous unrelated thoughts. (In other words: old-school blogging!!)
Coming back to privilege for a second… last week I promised GriftDrift and Sara I’d blog about it, in response to this post. Once again it is glaringly obvious that there is a lot of misunderstanding about the definition of privilege. It’s so frustrating. And I know I said I’d write a post, but I just haven’t had the energy. I don’t know how many times I and so many others can say the same thing. I know it’s important to keep saying it, for people who haven’t heard it yet; but at the moment I feel depleted. As I said in the comments on that post, privilege has nothing to do with intent. Once you start talking about intent it’s a completely different thing. Also privilege is not a personal failing, or something you can renounce. It is granted externally and you benefit from it, without knowing there is anything there to benefit from. That’s why Peggy McIntosh called it the invisible knapsack. No, there is not some grand white supremacist conspiracy dictating that most clip art, advertisements, media, etc. features white people – and that’s the whole point.
Sometimes I am just out of energy, I don’t have the energy to engage. Sometimes I’m able – usually on a one to one basis, in person. Sometimes online – it just depends. Once in a while it is really beneficial. I know it’s an important thing to do. I just can’t always do it myself.
Dacia wrote a post that mentions the importance of engaging rather than just lashing out. I totally agree with it. I also think that sometimes lashing out is okay, too. You can’t expect people to be totally patient saints 100% of the time when we’ve heard the same lines over and over regardless of anyone’s “intentions.” I guess it’s a balancing act. (See also Renee.) If you’re completely hostile all the time then nothing gets done, no one is reached, no alliances are made. But if you’re completely accommodating all the time then nothing gets done, no one learns, you’re basically a doormat. People have to take responsibility for their shit at some point, whether intentional or not. If you’re a true ally that means you listen instead of dismiss when you are called out on an -ism.
Really what it boils down to for me is, so much of this stuff has to be taken on a case-by-case basis. And it depends on many people fighting the fight in various ways.
~*~
The winner of Miss Pole Dance Australia 2008 is the same woman who won Miss Pole Dance Australia 2006. As before, to say she is amazing is an understatement. However I think her performance this time is even better. It has more grace and fluidity in addition to the awe-inspiring pole work. And, this time she has short hair like mine!! :D
I hope to one day be this good. I have my doubts that it’ll ever happen, but it’s good to have goals. There is always something else to learn with pole dancing!
~*~
I am annoyed by male hip-hop artists who mess up female hip-hop artists’ good songs. Examples: Nas to Kelis, Jay-Z to Beyonce. Stop messing up “Let’s Get It On In Public” and “Upgrade U.”
~*~
In meta news, I realized I can’t redirect amber.tangerinecs.com to beingamberrhea.com like I was thinking about doing, because all my images live on amber.tangerinecs.com (and I don’t feel like moving them). Oh well. The pre-April 2007 blog archives will just continue to live in two places.
So annoying
I said it on Nikki’s blog but the comment is currently in moderation; and I know I’ve said it here and elsewhere before, but it bears repeating: I am absolutely fed up with people who think they get a free pass on assholery just because we both oppose the Iraq War, or we both voted for Obama, or we both think Saxby Chambliss needs to be ousted from the Senate. BFD! No, you do not get a free pass on sexism, racism, homophobia, transphobia, anti-sex worker bullshit, ableism, ageism, classism or any of the rest of it just because we pulled the same (metaphorical, at this point) lever on election day. That shit is never okay, no matter who’s saying/doing it, no matter if you agree or disagree on certain political issues with the person… NEVER. And sitting silently by and tolerating it is basically just as bad as saying or doing it yourself. Your silence is complicity. And if you want to be ANY kind of ally then you damn well better be ready to listen if someone calls you out on any of this shit.