Just after sunset

Short blurb to get the bloggin' mojo back, but

As a little Xands, I was quite afraid of the dark. That's not so abnormal, neither is my paranoia about checking under my bed nightly and not having limbs hanging off the edge.

...what?

Well anyway, when I was a wee one I rarely had a reason to actually be afraid, except for boogeymen and shit. Now, of course, I can't much stand the light but I actually learned there are very good reasons to be afraid of the dark.

I try to live a life without fear--well, MUCH fear. I wondered a few minutes ago why I tend to get irate when Danzy talks about his ability to just flounce about well after dark whether it's going to work or walking...on Bourbon St in New Orleans (see his blog for details). Not really upset but just annoyed. Maybe jealous that he has a job. Maybe mad that he keeps wasting my limited texts so flippantly and I have to pay my own verizon bill now.

I wonder why I can't stand being out past, oh, 7 or 8. It dawned on my a few moments ago that, maybe, maybe I'm afraid.

Afraid of violence. Afraid of being killed or lost or raped.

My campus so happens to have a low crime rate, but that's only reported crimes. If all crimes got reported, well...

I may be afraid. It's not that those bad things can't happen to men, they do. But being a girl, you know, puts me at a severe disadvantage in life, which is sad. As masculine as I like to be it freaks me right out, it doesn't help that I lived in a freaking drug neighborhood that nearly fecking killed me. You learn those instincts and they don't go away. I don't trust the men, the, ah, lighter complected men that feel it's their right to tell me ____, as in the racism talks we often find ourselves having. The reasons I've excused myself from the company of many of my former associates. Who's to say they won't physically try to put me in my place.

You might say it's a healthy paranoia, I beg to differ. I wish I could just...stroll along Bourbon St without having to clutch my cell phone and look around every corner extra hard because you just never know. I wish a lot of things too though.

Random movie flashback: Tales from the Hood

Or: Get your activism on...or else.

Part I of II, I felt it was getting a little long as it turns out I had more to say about the movie than I originally thought. Oh well! Gives me something to do.

So, I believe Saturday or Sunday morning according to my Twits, I had a random movie flashback and found myself watching Trilogy of Terror. You know what the fuck I'm talking about, what with the frightening dolls and Karen Black. Unfortunately, it still terrifies the life out of me, it seems. I was eating my grapes aghast the whole time. Just...uuuugh.

I really like anthology movies & TV shows done right, unfortunately they rarely are *sigh* I think the last good anthology type I've seen was Three...Extremes, and that fucked me up for some time as only asian horror can do.

Anyway, while I was feeling nostalgic, I drifted over to my another movie from my childhood. I kid you not, I think just about everyone I knew had this movie on tape somewhere in the house to unleash upon unsuspecting victims. And again it still scares the bejeesus out of me without much effort. If you didn't notice the title I'm talking about 1995's Tales from the Hood (as in, not the crypt you know). Goddamnit, it's something about little black dolls running after you that's just...unsettling as hell.

I've seen the movie again at different stages of my life, from being sheet-pissingly frightened as a child to being so-so apathetic towards it as an adolescent, to...being afraid of it again, I have no idea why. Umm...

I will tell you that there's something way deeper here besides little black dolls running after the KKK dude...the stories. Rusty Cundieff, who also directed Fear of a Black Hat and somehow found his way onto Chocolate News (I guess it's the David Alan Grier connection) and...just believe me when I say you know this dude--he manages to successfully, I think, combine supernatural horror with the horrors of reality.

What do I mean? Well, I mean the stories. Other than being a completely black cast (which is pretty rare for a horror anthology--shit, did I say rare, I mean never) I think this is what truly makes the movie stand out. If you haven't actually seen the movie before I won't spoil it too much for you, even though for the most part they're pretty straight forward. BUT...I just...weirdly contradicted myself, anyway--

The movie juggles several prominent & horrible aspects of the black community like gang violence, domestic abuse, drug abuse, and, of course, racism in different forms. The wrap-around story is that of three gang members on their way to pick up drugs from a funeral home (and they didn't question this, for real) and they get roped into hearing the mortician--played by the naturally frightening Clarence Williams III--and his strange tales. It's a weird set up that will have you either rolling your eyes half way through or still wondering WTF to the end but oh well. It's not a great movie or a perfect movie, but by damn it's original and pretty successful at being both scary (well, to me...dolls) and thought provoking.

The first story, Rogue Cop Revelation, is about extremely crooked white cops who take their new black recruit Clarence on patrol and the white cops end up beating a known (fictional) black civil rights activist to death and smearing his name posthumously. Clarence, who only sat by and watched this brutal beating and never reported it, ends up resigning and turning to demon booze to cure his, well, demons. Until a mural of the slain activist, Martin Moorehouse, compels him to bring his murderers to his grave for revenge, and zombie hijinks ensue.

I think this story probably ends up being the most successful because it's so damn close to life without going over the top, except for the, uh, zombie. Corrupt white cops killing a black man trying to make change? Minus the whole undead revenge thing (and the, uh, creative way in which one of the officers is killed) you can't tell me that shit doesn't sound awful familiar. The ending is also rather unexpected, in a good way...let's just say that no one really escapes Moorehouse's revenge, and it leaves you just thinking about it. It's not so much the undead soul that gets you, it's the fact that this DOES happen, sometimes right under our noses, always unfairly, and will unfortunately probably continue happening unless some serious change comes about *sigh*

The second story deals with domestic abuse and child abuse in a way I think is pretty damn believable. It's called Boys Do Get Bruised and it's about a little boy, Walter, dealing with a "monster" in his life. Well...I take that back, the story's believable but the way it's carried out kind of made me cringe at times. Mostly the teacher, I was wondering a few times where the hell he got off. And...yeah those signs of abuse were pretty damn obvious I thought. Goodness. The acting also just took a random dip in this piece. There's also a little not-totally-obvious hueism going on (dark skin=bad light skin=savior). Anyway, Walter finds a way to express himself through art, which proves to be deadly. Pretty good, but deadly. Boy musta had weak bones.

Aside from the annoying ass acting I found this also pretty successful in conveying its message. It's about a boy dealing with his abusive home life the only way he can--he draws the "monsters" he wants to destroy then crumples the paper up, effectively mangling them it seems. First he takes his vengeance out on a bully then on the real monster in his life. I felt particularly close to it because art & stories is the way I tried to express what was going on in my life at various times. I still remember the rather gruesome pictures of women and heads on stakes that I used to conjure *shudder* it's disturbing. The only place this fails I think is length. It's probably the shortest story and doesn't really bother to get all into the story, just abused boy & savior teacher. Not a lot to go on and it makes it pretty cliche. And the...uh...fight scenes. David Alan Grier was apparently using the force on people.

That's the first two stories...I'll talk about the other two later on in the week.

Sex Doll jackets

Still doing that thinky post...but I hate it when I get weak and browse D-Listed. I find shit like this:

Sex Doll jackets for the discerning...never mind.

I can't save you from that link. You'll just have to click it and join me in cleansing. But before you do, I want you to know that it's exactly what you think it is and probably worse than you can imagine. Those colors don't even freaking WORK let alone reducing women to bits and pieces (uh, nipple clasps is all I can say) for you to wear.

...Did you see those fucking colors? Eeeeuuugh.

To save this from descending into madness, can I say that I've always been creeped out by male & female sex dolls? I don't mind--care, really--if folks use them but I can't...I dunno, get my head around them. I guess it's the same reason I'm not fond of regular dolls except now it's on a whole different level...the...fakeness and disposableness I guess. When I saw my first RealDoll I was totally done for life yo.

Sigh. Today would be a good day to eat breakfast, non?

I see you don't quite get shit: Anthropology Edition

You know what, I'm bout to pop people in the face.

If you're unfortunate enough to follow my Twittering Train you may have heard that yesterday I'd gotten zero hours of sleep and proceeded to class hopped up on sugar and caffeine. Needless to say that day ended in a 10 hour marathon nap.

I tell you that to explain that I've officially been up 13 hours today about about 3 o'clock because thanks to that long kiss goodnight, I've been up since 2 this morning. Hopped up on even MORE sugar¹, AND it's sunny outside. So I'm rather hyper today :D I'm typing this blog post from upside a wall.

AHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

So proceed to my cultural anthropology class were we're a-talking about gender. I usually love my anthro class since we're such a talkative bunch and today was no different. For extra fun, our regular prof had hear graduate assistant, a sociologist, teaching instead! YEYUH!

Now...uh...here's where the title of my post comes in. I sometimes feel--while I don't like to toot my superior intelligence²--that self-identifying or belonging to not one but a few minority groups (black. female. unstraight. *shatner*) sometimes it feels like I just get shit more. I read a lot. I blog. I'm in Bloggity Blogland where I learn. And let's just say that when I hear women make way less than men for doing the same job, I don't question the validity of that shit, I can tell you it's true and I can tell you a few other things that are true.

Being "outside the box" as in neither white nor male nor straight, it seems that I can grasp the conflicty things that perhaps gender, being a social construct, isn't static. It's dynamic, it changes from culture to culture. If you tell me that some Native American tribes believed there were 3 or even 4 genders I'm past the stage where I'll boggle at you like "NUH UH THAT CAN'T BE POSSIBLE COZ THERE'S ONLY MALE AND FEMALE", I will say, "Oh really? Do tell." I think they call that open minded.

Now, that doesn't make you dumb for not understanding that gender all over the world isn't what you think it is. That doesn't mean you aren't open minded either. In all reality it probably just means you didn't know that little fact, and that's fine. I just found it hilarious watching a handful of people struggle (I guess they were struggling) with the concepts of gender vs sex and how you really have to SEPARATE THE TWO.

BUT

I'm an antagonistic bastard so I passed around some sarcastic hand claps whenever I felt someone had either grasped a concept or failed to utterly. It didn't matter to me! I had lots of fun.

The best one was, while talking about the two spirits concept, which is something I'm admittedly not that familiar with, we talked about what WE, as, uh, Americans, would call "homosexual" marriage. The thing about the two spirits concept is that, there were in some tribes males born with female characteristics, and females born with male characteristics. I mentioned in class that this might tie in to what we would call intersex but I don't know if I explained myself adequately. What happened was, though, a few folks seemed to have trouble with grasping the fact that the two spirit males & females could get married to OTHER males and females respectively and it wasn't considered homosexual because the two spirit people displayed the opposite characteristics.

Got it? Good. Because that had shit to do with anything, it wasn't a "straight" marriage or a "gay" marriage, it was a socially accepted union, or a MARRIAGE. One guy seemed to have the most problems with accepting that there was something outside the heteronomitive and our regular teacher told him that he was equating sex with gender even though we had established that you need to separate the two. He eventually seemed to get it. I clapped.

What got my blood boiling towards the end of class--and I discussed this with another girl later because it was really funny--was the GA talking about possible solutions to the fact that women DO make less money than men for doing the same work even with the same education or better, for various reasons (and I will just sum it up with my favorite buzzword PATRIARCHYYYY). What can we do about the gender discrepancies in our country? Is this a problem?

One guy in the class answered with basically (I'm paraphrasing but you can trust me here): it's not really a problem, it's been this way for years and it's going to be hard to break old attitudes.

Class: *chirp*

I clapped. And lol'd. And BANK'd my first amendment rights to call someone's opinion foolish, but I didn't actually voice this with words because GA answered too fast.

Regular teacher gave a much better and not stupid answer, and thus class ended not too long afterwards. We're going to be on this subject for a few more weeks. Goodness I cannot wait until Thursday.



_{Note¹: Sugar doesn't actually make you hyper. Fun fact!
Note²: Momma says I'm smart. Cite!}

Watching Sita Sings the Blues, take 1

You may have heard of this going around el blogosphere, a short animated movie called Sita Sings the Blues. This is the movie here and the page about the movie here.

So I know ABOUT it and I have a general idea of what it's about, and I'll tell you. It is the story of Nina Paley, who, using the story of the Ramayana and jazz singer Anne Hanshaw, relates the story of her divorce.

Now, I started writing this post a while ago because I wanted to give the movie a fair shake. It's not even that long, bout an hour and thirty. I took off my special Gender & Race goggles and watched it like any ol' thing. I should have put them on.

But in a week I have not been able to get past 30 minutes into this movie. Uh when I do I'll let you know, but first let me explain why:

Animation

This has been irritating me to death. The posters I saw showed a pretty cute, simplistic, geometric style & it was colorful, I thought, "Mkay I can work with that". But it's not like that throughout the movie...and I'd be okay with that if it weren't for the fact that while we're looking at Nina's real life it's this weird sketchy style that reminds me of a child's drawings. Fine. Then it switches up again with the shadow puppets and their narration to a sort of cut out style. THEN the cutsey geo look. I was fine with this for most of my time watching but due to the structure the animation changed up so much that I just found myself getting irate.

But that wasn't as bothersome as the

Structure

Okay so I said I only watched 30 minutes of it so I can't say too much other than...damn this irritated me. It didn't flow. After about 10 minutes I ceased completely to feel the shadow puppet Greek Chorus. The way they explained the Ramayana--already in a dumbed down form anyway--just didn't work with what was happening. Holding up the story every now and then to have amusing banter and commentary quickly became unnecessary. And switching back and forth between the Ramayana story and Nina's story...I just thought it could have gone better. At some points if it weren't for the music I'd have been lost on what Nina was trying to get across exactly and I don't think that would have happened if the stories had just been able to intertwine without the excessive use of our little shadowy greek chorus.

Then there's the

Story

Ehh. Again I didn't watch the whole film so I can't go all up into this, but I felt a little weird seeing the Ramayana being related to this divorce. That's on a really basic level and I see where she's going with this, and I think it's a pretty interesting idea, it's just the execution that's making me want to cut someone's face up. With a razor.

So in all...I want to try to get through the rest of this over the weekend and hopefully my feelings will change, because I WANT to like it. Plus, apparently I'm grounded now so I'll need something to do *blink*

Yes, you heard me. Grounded. GROUNDED.

Women in Planetary Science, hooray!

So, you may not be able to tell right off but I lurve astronomy. It's one of the few things, scientifically I can get my head around (besides biology and botany...yes botany), which is just weird considering how damned complex it is. I love astronomy, planetary science, cosmology...it's been an affair since I was a child and strayed away from paleontology. I still dream of having my own observatory *sniffle*

Sadly, like so many things I love *side eye* astronomy for all outward appearances is still a boy's club. I think it's great that it's shifting from a white boy's club and I'm willing to be you can name 3 or 4 non-white men in the field. And you could probably name some women too with a little thought BUT I still hold that it's a boy's club. Because women just don't get into science like the menfolk. I GUESS.

So I was incredibly happy (I think I squee'd) when, due to the magic of Twitter, I found out about Women in Planetary Science. Oot-oot! Women in science AND it's something near and dear to my heart.

Planetary science, if you're wondering, is...pretty much just that. Studying moons, PLANETS, asteroids, comets...meteors...cosmic dust...if it's not a star and it's not the earth (that'd be *drum roll* geology :D) and it's not trying to attack us with lasers a planetary scientist is probably on it.

_{and cosmology is the study of the make up of our universe, so there}

Wheee! Go women!

Random musings on women's studies

You know what, in retrospect, my Intro to Women's Studies pissed me right off.

Backtrack. You see, I was aiming to minor in women's studies (now I'm an undecided/film studies minor). I do still want to take further courses if I'm able, though. This is also the first year, I believe, that a women's studies major has been offered.

The teachers participating in the course are basically doing it because they wanna. They already come from other departments like English and Sociology and are just teaching the course because, damnit, they wanted to. And that's great.

Going a little forward, Chally from Zero At The Bone tweeted a quizlet over Twitter and I took it, and turns out I'm Judith Butler. I was ecstatic, then paused, and an ellipsis appeared over my head.

So naturally I typed in Judith Butler in my handy dandy address bar and a Wiki article appeared. And I went through it and said, "Oh, I know her". What I meant was, I knew her theories, but not specifically her by name. Eh, that happens a lot. I have an unfortunate domino memory though and thought back to some musings I had over Christmas break about me first semester.



Now, I loved my Women's Studies course. It was great. It was one day a week for 2 hours in the evening so that meant I didn't eat dinner Mondays but it was still great. We had a great teacher and the class discussions were usually pretty good. I enjoyed taking it. So I guess "pissed" is a strong word, more like "miffed a lot". That's a phrase.

BUT

Miffed a lot it is. I was miffed. For one thing, yeah we had discussions but it never felt like we talked about anything...specific. Our book was full of influential articles and we read just about all of them, and we talked about plenty of intangible theory *sigh* but rarely ever the women themselves. It was kind of weird, now that I think about it (or thought about it a few months ago). Also, besides the odd Audre Lorde piece and mentioning bell hooks & Gloria Anzaldua literally at the very end of the class race was conspicuously absent. Uh, I was the second black student in the class and I think in total there were about 5 people of color (we had a small class note) so I never figured out if I was the only one that noticed that.

Back to talking about specific women, our final exam was to do--we chose a woman to write a short report on and presented it to the class. I did Simone Beauvoir and Gloria Anzaldua. That was as specific as we got even though, as I said, we talked about plenty of articles and women's issues and that was fine.

So I guess "miffed a lot" doesn't work either, maybe "unsatisfied" is best. It was an intro class so it's unfair for me to expect to be given a full blown course on err'thang but it just feels like even in our short amount of time we could have gone so much more in depth, not just...theory. Oh well, I guess that's what more specific courses are for.

The Great Masturbate Debate Continues

Say it in your Obama-voice. Say it! Omgomg.

So I told you about me & mom's little masturbation incident. Yeah it went over very well right? Riiight.

So I held off a couple of days calling her, mostly because I just couldn't get around to it, but also because I was going to let her stew in her own conservative guilt thoughts. I stewed in my own which mostly consisted of napping.

I finally called her because I got lonely & bored at meal time, and we ended up briefly talking the incident over. I finally explained to her that I was fucking kidding for frick's sake (I didn't say fucking) but also made it clear that what I do with my body AND MY MONEY is my business. Thus even in the event that I actually wanted to pay $60 dollars for a sex toy, I just hope--REQUIRE that she respects my decision. I mean, dad almost after 10 years got over it, why won't she?!

She agreed, begrudgingly, and normally that'd be the end of it--but, again, I can't let shit go. She said something that has bothered the hell out of me since Monday abouts. Apparently she told the incident to her co-workers--who I guess she likes this week, for now--and one of them remarked to her something along the lines that she raised me a lady and I wouldn't do anything like that to her.

Now...that's about half true. Yes mom did more or less raise me a lady, even though I thwarted her every attempt. And yes, I wouldn't ask my mother to buy me a sex toy (I did offer to buy her one though, but I'm rich). In fact, if you look at it like that it's completely true.

BUT

I get the feeling the gentleman was trying to imply that I wouldn't masturbate because I'm a lady. And even if that's not what he meant, let's not kid ourselves and say some people don't hold that outdated thinking. I'm pretty sure mama holds that sort of thinking true which I think is silly. It's all goddamned silly and that thinking sort of went out completely about 40, 50 years ago. Damnit why are we still so backwards. Ladies don't touch themselves and get to know their bodies, we just lay on the bed and hope the man trips so our purity can't be taken for another day or so. I just don't get it.

Also, that statement is true but it's not a...linear thing. It doesn't connect. Yes I guess I am a lady and no I wouldn't ask mommy to buy me a rabbit, but neither one is BECAUSE of the other. I wouldn't ask mommy to buy me a sex toy because frankly it'd be rather odd, she can't afford it and I can (barely), and it'd just be embarrassing to both of us in the end. As much as I want to have this conversation with her, I'm really not about to send her to the Hustler store to find me a purple bullet to match my tichel *blink*

Furthermore, also lady or not, fuck that, masturbation is good. For men & women. Stop being silly with your outdated thinking. Yes my vision is bad but I'm still blaming the television and genes (both my parents wear glasses & me and dad have the same prescription, somehow). Maybe my palms are a little itchy sometimes. But that doesn't mean touching your naughty bits is a bad thing, it's actually rather good for you.

And with that I think we've finally reached the bottom of this issue. And the moral of this story is, I like blasting family business in public a lot.

Run, don't walk, to the Tell It WOC Speak blog carnvial

Shit, I knew there was something I forgot to shamelessly advertise today.

If, at some point, you've ever thought for a moment that you love me, or at the very least don't hate me a lot, I implore you to drop by and stay a while at Tell It WOC Speak. Created by Renee of Womanist Musings it's a blog carnival featuring writing by women of color and allies.

To better explain, the opening paragraph why not:

Welcome everyone to what I hope will be the first of many blog carnivals dedicated to the voices of women of colour and our allies. In every sphere of life women of colour are marginalized and exploited. Often, when we attempt to engage to change our circumstances we are silenced.

This carnival is our attempt to give voice to our shared issues. We have a strong history of activism and organizing and it is in this vein that we have chosen this space to highlight the various ways we have attempted to carve out a niche in the online world. We shall not be silenced, and our dreams shall be realized. We are women of quality and worth.

I'm so ridiculously happy that this came about and all the topics covered & authors covering them are looking excellent. So let us run, not walk and go get ourselves some of that elusive awareness.

Masturbation: it's not a big deal...

...or is it?

So, my dear mama reminded me of why we can't talk about shit with each other. Earlier in the year I told you we tried to have the dreaded sex talk and it went...alright. For a minute she seemed okay talking to me about sex. For a MINUTE. Then I went back to school and she must have been so relieved that we didn't have to press the issue anymore. I guess.

So tonight I tried to talk about masturbation. And she FREAAAKED OOOOUT.

Now, I don't take much pleasure in making my mother cry over the phone. I wasn't even EXPECTING that. She can handle my jokes about masturbation, hell, she has quite a few toys of her own and it's sort of an open secret. She was even alright breaking her comfort zone to talk to me about sex if only briefly. But for some reason the subject of me touching my "naughty places" blew her miiind, maaaaan.

Let me explain the scenario and tell you why I don't really feel bad about it.

So we're talking on the phone, calling Danz a punk bitch and going generally well. Then she mentions going to Nashville's only Hustler Hollywood store outlet and how slammed the parking lot was with couples for Valentine's Day. It's around here that I make the joke of wanting a rabbit. She thinks I mean the animal, then Labbits, then finally she realizes I mean THOSE RABBITS. Ohhh nooo.

So she yells at me about it. I'm...taken aback. I didn't say anything about my own habits, just would she buy me a rabbit. Make note that I actually DO NOT want a rabbit vibe, I just used it as a generic term for a vibrator. I was completely joking about her buying me one but I didn't expect her to yell. Because I can't let shit go, I asked well what if I bought me own.

Well...yeah, that's about the time that I apparently upset her so much (because I "don't need anything like that") that she starts crying. Then sobbing. At this point I'm just blinking over the phone, flabbergasted. I had no idea why she was crying about it. Again, nothing about her or my own masturbation habits, just talking about apparatus. For some reason this is...distressing? I wasn't feeling it...

...But don't forget, I'm inexplicably pissed at the world this week, so I ask why it's okay for her to masturbate but not me. She doesn't give an answer. I press it gently as I can then she insists that I don't need anything like that.

Fine. No, it's true, I don't need a rabbit, or any "device" to masturbate with but my own hands and maybe the shower when I'm feeling fearless *shudder* _{oh god} But I still don't get it. I looked back over that "dreaded talk" and remembered that she was the one telling me to "save myself" for marriage, despite the fact that she didn't. She had me AND my brother out of wedlock so I suppose I'm supposed to get a "do as I say not as I do" vibe but I DON'T GO FOR THAT SHIT, and I've expressed this. Why is it so hard? I really don't get it. Masturbation's not a big deal to me. I don't think it should be to ANYONE. It used to be when I felt so guilty about it, to the point where I couldn't even enjoy an orgasm because I would freak out about not being "normal" (this is long after I went agnostic/atheist too) but seriously, who the hell am I hurting when I touch myself? It's natural and it makes you feel good.

I still don't get why she freaked out. Is it that her daughter might finally be interested in sex? (shock and horror) Is it the phallic nature of the rabbit vibe? (which is actually why I don't want one but I didn't tell her that *cough my fault*) What? I can't ask her any of this because our views on sex are so fundamentally different, and I wish they weren't. I want her to talk to me and it makes me sad that her bravery only comes in spurts. It's also silly.

I wouldn't call myself all that liberal on sex, but it seems that my mom holds such a strange, twisted "traditional" view on it that I'm honestly kind of confused on what I'm supposed to be doing. How can one acknowledge having multiple partners (not really poly) but still spin me some outdated shite on masturbation & sex? Seriously. Again I can't discuss any of this with her because, like this phone call, she will freak the hell out.

And this is why I really don't get in to it and just keep my views to myself. If she wants to do the "do as I say not as I do" thing, whatever. I try to be as honest and open as I can with my mom because she's like my best friend and she doesn't even have to hear about me having sex or masturbating--even I wouldn't go that far, to describe my habits to her. I just wish we could be more open about the possibilities that are so plainly there, ALL THE TIME, just not once every blue damn moon. Shit, living is damn difficult these days.

The battle is over, and as usual there are no winners

I told you all a little tale about a woman's family fighting for her right to die. Well, she died.

Italian coma battle woman dies

*Side note: If you don't like that headline I guarantee you I hate it more. Whaaaat?

Eluana Englaro, the Italian woman at the centre of a right-to-die debate, has died, the health minister has said.

Maurizio Sacconi made the announcement in Italy's Senate as politicians were debating a law that would have forced doctors to continue feeding her.

Ms Englaro, 38, had been in a persistent vegetative state since being injured in a car crash in 1992.

Doctors at a private clinic in the northern city of Udine had been withholding her food since Friday.

They had earlier said Ms Englaro might live for another two weeks.

Really, I'm more concerned with the family than these fuckheads fighting over this woman's body, on both sides. I understand that Italy has no euthanasia law (although patients can refuse treatment) so I suppose it had to become somebody's business. I still don't care. I just can't imagine how this family feels, having to watch their daughter for 17 years and, finally knowing that she would never wake again, have to fight tooth and nail to let her go.

In July, a court in Milan ruled that doctors had proved Ms Englaro's coma was irreversible. It also accepted that, before the accident, she had expressed a preference for dying over being kept alive artificially.

Perhaps you don't agree with euthanasia. I don't completely either. And we're fine with that. But you know, sometimes, at the end of the day it doesn't really matter what you believe in or in this case, don't, but rather, what's right for this woman and her family. I don't believe in suffering and that kind of overrides any personal queasiness I have about euthanasia, added to the fact that it's seriously no one's business but her family's.

And now she has passed on and you can believe this shit is nowhere near over. It will be taken to the streets (well, even more so actually). And that makes me sad and, dare I say, ill inside.

Hold on, she can still have babies, this is murder!

I'll admit, if I barely know shit about American politics I know next to nothing about Italian politics (other than they actually seem to have a lot of issues that very much mirror our own in a sort of Bizarro way). But there's this case I've been following about an Italian woman--Eluana Englaro--who's been in a coma for about 17 years after she was in a car accident. Now her family is trying to fight for her right to die peacefully as, according to her doctors, the coma is irreversible.

17 years in a vegetative state. 17 years watching your daughter lay there and show no signs of ever waking up again. The woman is, for all intents and purposes, dead. Keep that in mind because it's about to become key when you read what this article says:

Italy faces constitutional crisis over coma woman

The Italian government has been plunged into a constitutional crisis over the fate of a 38-year-old woman who has been in a coma for the past 17 years. Eluana Englaro was left in a vegetative state after a car crash in 1992. After a decade-long court battle, doctors reduced her nutrition on Friday in preparation for removing her feeding tubes, which her father claims would be in accordance with her wishes.

But in an extraordinary turn of events, the country's prime minister, Silvio Berlusconi, after consultation with the Vatican, has issued an emergency decree stating that food and water cannot be suspended for any patient depending upon them, reversing the earlier court ruling. On issuing the emergency decree, Berlusconi declared: "This is murder. I would be failing to rescue her. I'm not a Pontius Pilate."

Wait, hold on, I haven't gotten to the creepiest part yet:

Justifying his campaign to save Englaro's life, the prime minister added that, physically at least, she was "in the condition to have babies", a remark described by La Stampa newspaper as "shocking". Giorgio Napolitano, Italy's president, has refused to sign the decree, but if it is ratified by the Italian parliament doctors may be obliged to resume the feeding of Eluana early this week.

You are fucking kidding me.

This woman in a coma is able to have babies. Just what the fuck does that have to do with anything considering she's been in a COMA for 17 years? Signore, just what the fuck are you implying?

Everything is wrong with this. This is sick. First off, good job comparing yourself to Pontius Pilate--so I guess she's somehow your "Jesus"? Your Virgin Mary? Also, consulting the Vatican? They have no impact on this woman's life. Even if she were Catholic, dude, they have no bearing on her family's decision to let the Englaro die. It is not your right to come to her family and say they can't let their daughter have her dignity and die peacefully. You have no right to keep this woman hooked up in a hospital for, what, another 17 years? And for what? She isn't coming back, her family has realized this, and they are willing to let her go. I suggest Berlusconi does the same. Sir, it is not up to you, the decision had already been MADE.

A little more:

The case has deeply divided Italian society and raised concerns over the influence of the Vatican. Yesterday Pope Benedict indirectly referred to Englaro in a message delivered to mark the World Day of the Sick, stating that society had a duty to defend "the absolute and supreme dignity of every human being" even when "weak and shrouded in the mystery of suffering". But even some of Berlusconi's political allies, including the president of the lower house of parliament, Gianfranco Fini, have stated that the supreme court ruling should be obeyed and Englaro should be allowed to die.

Meanwhile, doctors are continuing to act according to the original supreme court ruling. On Friday morning in the La Quiete clinic in Udine, northern Italy, they began reducing the amount of food in Eluana Englaro's feeding tube, according to a precise medical protocol that will see nutrition gradually replaced with sedative and anti-convulsant medication. Experts say that within four to five days her condition may have deteriorated to an irreversible extent, though it might be two weeks or more before her heart stops. The process means the Englaro family and their doctors are now in a race against time as they try to end Eluana's life before the Berlusconi government and its backers in the Vatican halt the process.

This is just...sick. In a "race" to give this woman her final--or at least her family's final--wishes. It's true that people do come out of comas in months, years, decades...but this is what her family wants. They just want their daughter to go off peacefully. What is wrong with this? How is this a "crime against humanity" I ask you? Wouldn't it be more humane to end her suffering? Just because she can still have children--physically--but is not MENTALLY capable is that all that's required for life? That...is sick.

Iraqi woman had 80 raped for suicide bomb recruits...

Yes, sadly, I must ruin your morning/afternoon/day in general. For I think this story just about covers everything I hate in the world...about.

Iraqi woman had 80 women raped to recruit suicide bombers

A WOMAN suspected of recruiting more than 80 female suicide bombers has confessed to organising their rapes so she could later convince them that martyrdom was the only way to escape the shame.

Samira Jassam, 51, was arrested by Iraqi police and confessed to recruiting the women and orchestrating dozens of attacks.

In a video confession, she explained how she had mentally prepared the women for martyrdom operations, passed them on to terrorists who provided explosives, and then took the bombers to their targets.

"We arrested Samira Jassim, known as 'Um al-Mumenin', the mother of the believers, who was responsible for recruiting 80 women'', Major General Qassim Atta said.

"She confessed her responsibility for these actions, and she confirmed that 28 attempts had been made in one of the terrorists' strongholds,'' he said.

Now that's just fucking despicable. She has these women RAPED and tells them the only way to escape the shame of SOMETHING THAT WASN'T THEIR FAULT is to basically blow themselves up for their deity. There is no sense in suicide bombing itself but there's even less sense in this. She ruined the lives of these young women then TOOK their lives from them. And for what? Really, I ask you, for what?

And no, the men that actually carried out these recruitment rapes don't get a pass either. Everything around this is sick sick sick. Prey on women's fears to get them to do your bidding. I can't think of anything more awful.

What's up TN?: Gone Too Soon

So, if you live in middle TN and you're anything like me, you usually don't pay much never mind to the front page of the Tennessean. Or the back pages. Hell, you'd go straight for the funny pages or the TV schedule.

But, I came across this interesting series of articles by accident (the paper was about to be thrown away) entitled "Gone Too Soon". It's a look at the freakishly high--like third world country high--infant mortality rate in TN. This was something I had no idea about but the article also hits you with the fact that TN is fighting for the "most unhealthy state" position and it also dips into the issues of poverty and, naturally, race. Like racism.

So let's look at these articles (I'm warning you, they are rather depressing). First though, you'll probably want to read the series for yourself so hopefully this link will take you to the special. Then you can click on "skip to articles" and off we go!

When you read the articles you'll see two factors mentioned a lot: poverty and stress. Poverty prevents women from eating the right foods they need to ensure their child's health. Poverty also effects working women: women with low-paying jobs are less likely to either have insurance or be able to take off time from work (or both of these). Poverty can lead to stress which can negatively effect the health of the child, could lead to miscarriages.

The series also mentions genetics, especially in the third article on black infant mortality. I'll tell you that the first story I read of this series was the third article on black babies dying at a higher rate than white babies. And yeah mid TN does have a high concentration of black people but why do these infants die at a higher rate? According to the article doctors aren't totally sure: it could be genes, it could be environment, it could be neither of these. Add to that they aren't totally sure why white infants in the state die at a high rate than some countries way less developed than the US.

I have to admit that the theories of the third article concerning black women are a little problematic for me, when it starts delving into the "stereotypes" of blacks. Such as controlling the factors of drug abuse, smoking, drinking, lack of anything beyond a high school education. I mean, it's a little weird when you read it then read the story of the woman who lost her child despite fitting into none of these categories. That's where it mentions genetics as a possible theory then goes on to health care and lack of education.

Ah, now there's my pet thing: lack of education and access to health care. For one thing, I have no doubt it's lack of education like, oh, sex ed that's leading to the rise of teen pregnancies in this state. Of course they know how to do the act but what about the resulting pregnancy? What foods should you eat or which should you stay away from? What do you do when you're going into labor? You won't hear these things talked about in a class room and you damn sure won't hear them talked about between the parent and child.

And don't get me started on access to health care--or rather, I guess I will have to get started, but really health care in TN just seems to be...fucked. Hard to get to. If your job isn't insured you may very well be screwed. Medicare, Medicaid, TennCare...all those programs are so dipped in scandal, I'm not calling them completely worthless but they just aren't effective for everyone. Sigh.

Sigh again. You have all these potential factors: the fact that our state isn't healthy overall, lack of education, lack of community support, poverty, genetics, racism...and honestly I think I'll agree that it's ALL of these things that are effecting the high infant mortality in this state. In fact to me the biggest factor probably is a combination of lack of education and poverty if I was pressed. But, since I'm all solution oriented, now that we've written the article, read it and presented the facts, WHAT do we do about it?

In the third article and beyond you'll see costs mentioned a lot. At this point I wonder what the hell does a child's life cost. When I read these articles, while there are some factors that you just can't help, there is no reason for the infant mortality in this state to be so high. We should be more focused on saving these babies, not arguing on what millions of dollars this will cost. Of course I'm thinking ideally because realistically...well this is the truth. And it just makes me really upset but I am glad this series was written, to give these women a voice and to broadcast their problem on the masses who probably have no idea.

It's hard to wrap up an ongoing problem without thinking of what to do...what to do. We surely can address all of these things, it's just a willingness to do so I think. Willingness and ability, obviously. Just because we SHOULD spend money on this doesn't mean we can, which is a little scary to me. To me this also reflects a bigger problem in our country, that is our increasingly unhealthy lifestyles leading to these health problems. I may save a little existential rambling on that for another time, but for now I'll just let these articles speak for themselves a bit.

Xands needs to be a girl for a few minutes

Ugh. I need to be girly today and do several things, including getting some damn tweezers since I seem to have misplaced mine. I need some cereal and KitKats because my cycle has started *draws Xs over eyes* and I would really like some new nail polish. Really, really, really like some new nail polish. For winter and summer.

And I still need frackin' hair products. Man my scalp is thirsty as hell. I do rinse daily but that doesn't help much since I'm out of my deep conditioner (maybe for the best, it had a little more junk in it than I really wanted). In the winter my hair gets really dry really quick. I'm torn between trying Kroger/Rite Aid or maybe just ordering something online. I'm looking at the Treasured Locks website and they have some interesting stuff that I really doubt I'd find in Johnson City--that being because JC is really tiny mostly. You never know though...hmm.

I'm currently looking at Black Earth Herbal Hair & Scalp Strengthener because I'm always having issues with breakage & dry scalp. We'll see how my bank account looks in the morning, I might get magically paid again or something. Not that it's that much more expensive than what I'd buy in the store though.

What the fuck is femininty?

My room mate kind of irritates me with her concerns about her "femininity". She is a bit of a tomboy I'll admit, but what exactly is wrong with that? *blink* I remember I used to be concerned about my femininity but I gave it up when I figured that being female in general made me a girl (biologically at least, I mean I could go on about that but I won't right now).

Anyway, it's...annoying. She wants perfume that makes her smell like a woman--I ask, what exactly does a woman smell like? She wants to wear clothes that make her more girly. And yadda yadda yadda. It just makes my eyes roll. Even now she's going to the mall and trying to figure out what smells better on her.

WTF AUUUGH.

It's not that I don't put any effort into my appearance but damn. She's worried about her hair and her clothes and her scent and I'm just thinking, who exactly is she trying to attract and why? I can't tell her what to do with herself, of course, because it's her body and her self-esteem and also because she doesn't listen to me ~_~

Oh well. We obviously have different philosophies and different views--me, I put effort if I'm going anywhere in particular, she seems to want to make an impression everywhere. We have different views on what femininity is and that's fine I guess, even if it annoys me to no end. I guess maybe I'm the "tomboy" here and she isn't...ugh.

Boxing Helena take II

Wow, you never realize how layered and complicated a movie can be until you...you know, sit down and try to write about it in depth. Professional-like.

Not that this movie is horribly deep--in fact, I'll tell you the problem with it: It's not so much deep as it is see-through but at the same time it juggles so many damn things. The undercurrent that ties it together is obsession. Unfortunately, with all the blatant imagery and symbolism, the other themes running rampant and the asi-asi story line, just having the one thread tying the bundle together isn't enough to keep everything from spilling out, not just in terms of writing a paper but in terms of a movie *d'oh!*

Also, I have to be really careful not to give my best Ebert and give a 2 page review when I'm supposed to be examining. This is so easy it's hard...

You want to hear the weird thing? In addition to making a short outline of it, I also watched an episode of the Night Gallery called She'll Be Company For You. Starring Leonard Nimoy (yeah, he did other shit besides Spock y'all) and Kathryn Hays, it's the story of a lonely widower haunted by his wife's memory--and strange cat. He's driven to madness and you know, bad stuff happens.

Why did I watch this episode other than the fact that I love the Night Gallery? Comparison. Kept my thoughts in order, interestingly enough, comparing this surreal, bloated movie with this short, kinda-to-the-point if still odd episode. Both men are greatly effected by the women in their lives. Both men are eventually driven crazy as fuck with different results. It's interesting...and deserves to be another paper entirely! Hmph! I'm too brilliant for this!

Sailor Radicaaaalllss...?

Bahahaha. I've been wondering for a couple of days if I should elaborate here on a joke a friend and I made like a few weeks ago. Wondering because it was a joke (and a long running one at that) but at the same time it was kind of an interesting idea. Or...well, at least a joke I took too seriously while still remaining in good humor. So I think I'll explain and we can all laugh.

So...did anyone else rock the show Sailor Moon way back when? I took it one step further and immersed myself in the manga because the drawing was so much more beautiful, I didn't have to hear the annoying dub voices and some of the stories actually made more sense.

Sailor Moon has just become this...cultural thing. A good role model for girls (well, not really the anime) that you too can wear a skirt and heels, and pop open a can of whoop ass. Onto the joke me and a friend made, I...don't really know why or where, probably in my sleep deprivation, I some how came up with the idea of a Sailor Black Radical Feminist *blink* And he threw in Virulence Boy for the sake of doing it. We snickered and giggled then the next day I decided...why don't I DRAW this?!

You may not remember but I used to draw a bit :P and I've really been out of practice so I figure a few quick sketches would be fun. And it was. Then I did...more. Then...more. Then I started thinking up a back story. Weapons, all the shit that goes along with being a pretty soldier. Fast forward to a week later I'm thinking about adding to the army. Why not? Progress Soliders (not scouts damnit) eh? Eh? I randomly added Sailor Liberal Ally and that's when I started thinking about adding more. Creating is fun :D

So, if you're not comatose, I really did go through the "basic" form, then Super then Eternal (if you watched the show/read the manga you can groan now). And now for why I think myself so profound:

Sailor Black Radical Feminist, in her basic form, was a normal girl named Letitia. Letitia, like myself, was usually happy to vanish into the crowd and just be in her own little world, not thinking much of what others said or thought of her. Intelligent girl. Then one day through random Deus Ex Machina powers, she awakes to her femininity and inner strength; outraged by injustices against women & blacks world wide she becomes...Sailor Black Feminist! She's dressed a bit like a punk, with fingerless gloves & moccasins, some "stereotypical" black items like the door knocker earrings & the pick and a black pride fist on her outfit with a couple of gender-symbols. Her main weapon is the pick (nyah) and her main attack is Channel Two News...in which she beats your ass so badly you wind up on Channel 2 News.

Later, through more self-awakenings & education, Sailor BRF ponders a change and morphs into Sailor Black Feminist. No longer the punky Chan 2 News radical she's a bit more mature, her costume is rid of some of the gender symbols & black power paraphernalia for a more unified look even though she's still got the fingerless gloves and has traded her moccasins for flip-flops (my friend Daniel asked me why and I said "Why not?"). Unfortunately she's a bit more cocky but easily influenced by various ideals. Her pick has grown into a full-sized weapon & her new attack is "Native Hum" which paralyzes her enemies.

And finally, Sailor BF goes through a period of meditation and finally comes to a deep understanding about herself and the people around her; this is how she morphs into her final (good lord) form, Sailor Womanist :D most of her sailor trappings gone she wears a crown of pearls & wears a flowing dress, no shoes, and has a female-gender symbol shaped wand. And... a cape. Her main attack is "Peaceable Understanding".

I haven't quite figured out Virulence Boy and how he's going to evolve. Sailor Liberal Ally I think is kind of funny. Trina is blond, overly-eager and overly-anxious to "support the cause" but she usually falls short of totally understanding, although she is a pretty intelligent woman. She just can't see through her own privilege & race. She transforms into Sailor Liberal Ally to banish injustice where she "perceives" it. She looks very different from Sailor BRF, wearing a short tube top with her collar attached, a skirt and round rings on her ankles, wrists & neck. Her main attacks involve a small set of scrolls with the word "EXCUSE" written on them to make her enemies see the error of their ways.

Later, Sailor Lib Ally undergoes a drastic change in which she becomes Sailor Radical Mystique & her costume looks more like Sailor BRF's. After that she undergoes another transition but I'm still pondering...

Sigh. I've had so many slightly depressive entries I figure we all needed some cheer :P how the hell do I ever get anything done in the day anyhow? *daydream daydream*

Women's Studies assignment: Boxing Helena

For my Women's Studies class, our first major project will be to watch a film! Any film we like, she says. The thing is, we have to study women's roles in film so whatever film we choose, we watch it through a feminist lens in so many words.

For me, I was a little dismayed that I couldn't call upon my random list of Obscure Movies to give me a good woman's role--then, not even a negative role. How androcentric my movie list is, I thought. Wow. I could think of plenty of movies but not many with a significant female role--one that I could easily dissect and make a paper on anyway.

So I gave it some thought and with my burgeoning Clive Barker re-obsession, I said "Hey, Hellraiser is pretty decent and I could write a role on the two main female characters!"

Through fate and weird circumstance, I couldn't get hold of a copy of Hellraiser but I found something else--a little movie I'd seen long ago called Boxing Helena.

Ah, a cult movie after my own heart, directed by Jennifer Lynch, the daughter of the Master of Someone's Reality, David Lynch. Yes, Miss Lynch tried her hand at surreal film and it does ring of a knock-off of a Lynch film. If you've ever heard of this movie it was probably in a negative sense, as in many people--and I mean movie goers, critics, the box office--felt the movie sucked aloud.

And I saw it a couple of years ago and I say nay! it doth not suck aloud; but...silently. See, the movie is about a miserable creep of a doctor obsessed with a miserable bitch of a model. It's a love story that really gets rolling when the lovely model, the titular Helena, is run over by a truck (randomly, one day) and the doctor Nick winds up amputating her leg.

From here Nick gets a little...uh, crazy and takes off her other leg. Then both her arms. Then shit happens. I mean if you click the Wikipedia link and you're dismayed by the ending spoiler, believe me, that summary gives nothing away. You really have to experience the sheer creepiness for yourself.

So why choose this film? For one thing, I actually kinda liked the film. It's not the best damn thing ever but its tolerable. Also, Helena's role is an interesting one--she starts off as the stereotypical bossy bitch. She's beautiful and she knows it and she doesn't have the time of day, night or afternoon for poor Nick until she gets humbled by having no limbs and relying on him for everything.

I also like the theme of objectification in the film. Nick goes screwy and takes it too far with the cutting of the limbs and that interests me--it connects with how I feel about men objectifying women. Rendering the beautiful woman powerless so she can't control you anymore, and she's totally yours. It's wonderfully symbolic I think.

And I'm putting all this in my paper. Yep. I feel an A!

lawl @ Male Privilege

For my Women's Studies class in...an hour, I have to read an article in our book that discusses male privilege. She kinda delves into white privilege too but I'd rather focus on the male privilege ~_~ well, that's actually kinda hard because it seems that--in this article and I think it's true to an extent--male privilege is intricately tied to white privilege.

The article discusses how most men won't recognize their "inherent" privilege. Like, not can't but WON'T. It's totally unknown to them, apparently, like how I guess most white people can't/won't/don't acknowledge their own "white privilege".

But the article swaps back and forth between the author facing her own white privilege while trying to get men to acknowledge their own male privilege. It's a little dizzying; it's this that makes me think that, somehow, all society privileges are just tied to white males in general? I mean--if you'll stick to my rambling--it kinda makes sense to me considering that this country was basically meant for white land-owning males no?

But my real question is...because I don't know how old this article is, I wonder how many men--white men specifically I suppose--don't acknowledge their advantages in society. I mean...I don't know if it's the fact that I'm female (and black) but I figure it's pretty obvious. No matter how men & women are supposedly equal now women always seem to be a step or three behind. Despite how many facts & stats you throw about how women earn more/equal pay compared to men and have jobs and blah blah etc, women, I feel, are still kept a step behind the game *shrug*

So, I dunno, I figure men must at least vaguely recognize their privilege? And I reckon surely white people recognize their privilege by now? I mean if you don't you're...blind. That's it *blink* seriously...it's kinda weird.

This is just my response to the article btw, since I have to do this in group discussion anyway...more of a way to get out my thoughts.