sundries

[rm]

Last night we had a lovely dinner with friends of Patty's. Unfortunately, Patty now also has a terrible cold. Between that and being assailed by a mosquito last night, we're not as rested as we could be.

It also looks like much if not all of my upcoming corporate time in Europe may be resolved today, which is also good in terms of making plans and knowing what's going on.

Last night when I got out of the subway, Union Square was filled with sukkaths made by artists and there was a random band unrelated to that playing old time music. It was New York at its finest.

I know I'm supposed to be reading the Cyteen sequel right now, but Exciting Academic Film Text just arrived, so that's my subway reading first.

cleolinda is having a discussion about grief, mourning and character death at her journal. It is a bucket of spoilers.

Stories of the bacha posh, girls presented as boys in Afghanistan to increase a family's status and luck. Everyone knows they are girls presented as boys, but this is still better than having no boys at all. At puberty, their status reverts back to their female sex, and the change in social freedoms and expectations can be jarring.

yesthatjill is compiling a list of gluten-free products.

Offensive, but also mostly smart and very funny: stereotype-based maps of Europe from the perspective of different nations (and gay men). It mostly stays this side of taste (because it makes fun of everyone both the observer and the viewed) in each map. On the other hand, there were a few where I raised an eyebrow and said "you went there? Really?" Anyway, it is interesting.

Hey, watch out for the porny Twitter bug.

The return of the nutcracker. In this case, a drink in Harlem that's part of the underground economy. Article is both interesting and full of the New York Times being appalling in that way only the New York Times can be (sellers include "young and older women" -- er? how about "women"?)

The senate is having a vote on whether to discuss a bill that contains DADT repeal language. The outcome is unclear. The whole thing is depressing.

In reading this batch of letters in the New York Times I got thinking about how people get really freaked out by this idea of apologizing as a society or group for wrongs done. "I didn't own slaves, so why should I have to when I didn't do anything wrong?" or "I'm a guy, but I don't hate women, why should I have to deal with women mistrusting me?" Now, there's a lot of things at play in there, but aside from the obvious, one of them is about the nuance of words.

Collective apology is not the same thing as collective guilt is not the same thing as collective mandated self-hatred is not the same as individual expressing regret/remorse/apology for wrongs done by the society in which they live regardless of their level of personal complicity in them. And yet many of us, especially those of us in privileged positions tend to engage in the discussion in a way where we're obviously not seeing these distinctions. We talk a lot in these discussions about sitting down, shutting up and listening to what other people have to say; that's good stuff. Sitting down, shutting up and thinking about the nuances of words, however, can also be a big help.

Btw, when I post stuff like this it's because I've been thinking about my own impulses towards defensiveness and seeing the ways in which they don't make sense or aren't fair to other people or actively harm me as well.

Hey, can I ask you all to try to keep sizeism down in comments? It's an ongoing problem. Exercise won't make everyone thin; some skinny people just come that way; fat people aren't stupid; and a real woman isn't determined by her BMI or her genitalia. HAES, the evils of HFCS, dieting if that's your choice, eating better, our nation's increasingly sedentary lifestyle, beauty standards, etc. are, however, all welcome topics. But try to pause before you type it.

Comments

[gwyd.livejournal.com]

Well, I had an extra shitty time, as i got into a war with admin my first winter because they wouldn't fix the heat in my dorm. We had to pile all our clothes on the bed so as not to freeze in the night and our toilet would film over in the night. The man in charge of housing insisted the heat wasn't broken and was to lazy to cross 40 feet of parking lot to check. We eventually won as he wrote a letter to my parents saying if I didn't stop demanding heat, they'd refuse me housing next year. My mother sent copies with a cover letter to admin saying that denying heat in winter and housing discrimination both being illegal, the next letter they'd be getting would be from our lawyer. They fixed the heat, but punished me in a variety of other ways.

This doesn't even get into the hypocrisy of asking me not to speak in seminar. This doesn't get into being stuck in the same core with two people I couldn't stand two years in a row. This doesn't touch us having to discuss solipsism for the first hour of seminar every seminar the spring of my first year. And on. And on . And on.

The final straw was me looking at my seminar mates two weeks into junior year and knowing what everyone would say before they opened their mouths. It dawned on me that the only class I was actually enjoying was french and the situation was rapidly deteriorating there due to the Proffessor's determination to bed me. I thought about all the upperclassmen I'd known over the years and I realized that, while some of them were cool people, I didn't want to be like that.

I left annapolis in the fall of '90. You?