In the interest of making this blog more pleasing to my eye, I tried on some different templates.
And lost all my links...
So...does anyone remember what I had, even?
Sunday, March 27, 2005
Friday, March 18, 2005
An Open Letter to the Young Women Of North America...
(Or how I learned to stop worrying and love Gloria Steinem)
Britney Spears lied to you. At least her handlers did.
I guarantee that, if you're the average North American 20-something, you don't have as much time in your day to spend on appearance as Britney does. Ergo, unless you've been genetically blessed to the point of being Naomi Campbell or her ilk, you don't have the body to pull off Britney's clothes. Besides, she's taped, pushed, pulled, and posed to look reasonable. You don't have a stylist following you...well...most of you don't, so stop it.
The truth is that those super low tight pants you're wearing...they push up your hip fat and make your butt look really tiny. So...what you've ended up with is a bottom half that looks like your top half is being poured through a funnel. Into big shoes.
Say that I am aging and jealous. Say that I'm jiggly in the buttock and thigh region. Say that I long for the days I could go out barely dressed and look reasonable. All those may be true. Whatever. They all pale next to the fact that I'm telling you the truth. You all look like freshly scrubbed whores.
Those outfits may get you laid at the bar. And if they do, good for you! You accomplished your goal and far be it from me to tell you what to wear when you're on the prowl with your heavily perfumed compadres. However, is it too much to ask that you don't serve my lunch with your gut hanging over your pants? Because, the amazing part is, you don't ~have~ a gut! By any woman's standards, you're usually a tiny little thing. It's the pants! There is magical pixie gut-dust in the fibers! Look in a damn mirror!
Which brings me to restaurants, since it was a girl like that who served me my food the other day.
I work downtown. The old, rich oil men in my city who like to look at women that have barely been weened from their mother's teat go to restaurants downtown. I know 1 + 1 makes 2 and I know that the board meeting to decide to hire pretty young girls dressed in clothes that don't really cover ~anything~ probably didn't go like this:
"We need more traffic. Research shows that oil men have lots of money. Now, if you look at this pie chart, research also shows that these oil men are centered around the downtown area, near our downtown location. If I may direct your attention to this diagram, the X-axis shows the age and wealth of the average oil man. The Y-axis shows the youth and hotness of women. You can see at this point here *smacking chart* that young hot women in very little clothes really interest old, balding men with lots of money. I mean, it skyrockets. What do you make of this? Jenkins?"
"I know, Sir! We need to hire young, pretty women who will wear slutty clothes to serve our rich oilmen customers."
"Dagnabbit, Jenkins, you're gonna go far in this company. Now go to the highschools and see if any of those pretty young things are looking to buy a car. And while you're out, pick up my drycleaning. And stay away from my daughter!"
When I was that age I worked at a coffee shop and we girls learned purdy quickly that the tighter our shirts were, the higher our tips would go. It would make the difference between leaving with $2.45 or leaving with $15 extra in our pockets. However, we ~did~ have to dress reasonably and not as if we were Las Vegas showgirls. And we weren't ~encouraged~ by our management. We weren't ~deterred~ either, and lets face it, even we knew why our bosses hired almost all young women but this wasn't a situation in which we were all dressed uniformly in a chain restaurant.
I could now launch into my rant about the backlash that has occured against feminism, but....well...hell, I'm gunna:
Over the past decade or so, I've noticed a serious reaction to feminism in North America in which, like a Phoenix from it's ashes, "The Lout" has risen to become profitable and sexy once again.
Women my age (early 30s) might recall the feminism of our mothers that wound itself into our every thought when we were coming of age in the late 80s/early 90s. But it was ~their~ generation's brand of feminism and when Camile Paglia came out kicking, screaming and foaming at the mouth we all rushed out to buy her book because it was what we needed. We felt we had been denied our sexuality and resented the 'earth mother' that morphed from the feminism we had known. Camile Paglia liked porn, she liked loud noises, she was unreasonable and we felt redeemed.
Not sure when the Riot Grrls came into the scene...but it was about this time. So, them too.
Anyway...so, we finally got to hold our heads high and march, arms linked and heeled high, out into the night to get drunk in our miniskirts, pick up (or be picked up by) whomever we wanted and call it 'reclaiming our control'...or whatever we said it was at the time. We refused to be 'victims' anymore...we were taking responsibility for our choices. We became aggressive, garish, loud, obnoxious, blatant...and other adjectives. We became lout-ish...but with eye makeup and a purpose.
I think men liked it...but mostly because we were being brash with our sexuality. When we used to yell at them, I think they liked it less.
What happened, though...the Spice Girls. They took it, put a bit more sugar in to counter the spice (no pun) and we had 'Girl Power (tm)' . *Whammy!* it was marketable. Girl Power (tm) is cutesy nauseating, but sorta useful, I guess. It's good that young girls and women wake up in the morning with the 'girl power' mantra floating in their heads. Whatever makes them feel powerful is a good thing. But...ugh.
On the other foot, though, the male backlash to all this feminist activity swirling around them was to take the sexuality but ditch the aggression. So, now the pinups they've always loved of Pam Anderson...they were nothing to be ashamed of. And strip clubs were something to be celebrated. Women get the message that no matter how much you work, how much you try to educate yourself , how much yoga you do or how much herbal tea you drink, a man with whom you are in love actually ~wants~ to be with his buddies being served cold beer by chicks with big tits and have nothing more to say than, 'Want more?', 'Bet your wife doesn't do this.' and 'Have you met my twin sister?'
Let me say here that I actually have no beef against strippers or anything. These women choose to do what they're doing and it's profitable...so whatever. My problem is that it went from 'just a thing' to a celebration of men's rights to be pigs...and pride in chauvinistic attitudes.
I used to believe it, too. The Lout's lie. That men had base instincts that had been denied them and now they can fulfill them to their hearts content. Men ~are~ visual creatures and ~do~ gawk a little more than women do, but I've come to understand that their lack of grace and manners are their ~own~ fault. Men don't ~have~ to be The Lout. Men don't ~have~ to watch strippers with their buddies and try to feel up the waitress because they have the choice to be decent and mature. And not all men choose that for their entertainment. Men don't ~have~ to go glassy-eyed and drooly and don't have to 'juggle women' (or pretend to) to feel masculine. Men can ~want~ to be with their imperfect girlfriend/wife and appreciate her thoughts and actions ~without~ stating loudly their right to go out with the boys, get drunk and dump water on some girl in a white t-shirt.
The Man Show, beer commercials, Spike television, Maxim...everywhere you look there's men reclaiming the reclamation women celebrated just years before. The difference is, we celebrated a furtherment in our emancipation. The Lout celebrates taking that back.
And ~that's~ why these restaurants gave themselves the green light to hire an almost exclusively young, hot, and female serving staff, clothed in garments that are irritatingly slutty, and encourage them to be cute and flirty with the customers. The Lout is a big spender and now he feels he's owed.
I went to one of these places with my mother for dinner recently and the waitress interrupted us, in her cute and flirty way, a few times during a very indepth mother/daughter conversation. My god! At least review your customer profile! Flirting with my mother isn't going to get you any more tips!
I'm not sure this is what the Suffragettes had in mind.
Britney Spears lied to you. At least her handlers did.
I guarantee that, if you're the average North American 20-something, you don't have as much time in your day to spend on appearance as Britney does. Ergo, unless you've been genetically blessed to the point of being Naomi Campbell or her ilk, you don't have the body to pull off Britney's clothes. Besides, she's taped, pushed, pulled, and posed to look reasonable. You don't have a stylist following you...well...most of you don't, so stop it.
The truth is that those super low tight pants you're wearing...they push up your hip fat and make your butt look really tiny. So...what you've ended up with is a bottom half that looks like your top half is being poured through a funnel. Into big shoes.
Say that I am aging and jealous. Say that I'm jiggly in the buttock and thigh region. Say that I long for the days I could go out barely dressed and look reasonable. All those may be true. Whatever. They all pale next to the fact that I'm telling you the truth. You all look like freshly scrubbed whores.
Those outfits may get you laid at the bar. And if they do, good for you! You accomplished your goal and far be it from me to tell you what to wear when you're on the prowl with your heavily perfumed compadres. However, is it too much to ask that you don't serve my lunch with your gut hanging over your pants? Because, the amazing part is, you don't ~have~ a gut! By any woman's standards, you're usually a tiny little thing. It's the pants! There is magical pixie gut-dust in the fibers! Look in a damn mirror!
Which brings me to restaurants, since it was a girl like that who served me my food the other day.
I work downtown. The old, rich oil men in my city who like to look at women that have barely been weened from their mother's teat go to restaurants downtown. I know 1 + 1 makes 2 and I know that the board meeting to decide to hire pretty young girls dressed in clothes that don't really cover ~anything~ probably didn't go like this:
"We need more traffic. Research shows that oil men have lots of money. Now, if you look at this pie chart, research also shows that these oil men are centered around the downtown area, near our downtown location. If I may direct your attention to this diagram, the X-axis shows the age and wealth of the average oil man. The Y-axis shows the youth and hotness of women. You can see at this point here *smacking chart* that young hot women in very little clothes really interest old, balding men with lots of money. I mean, it skyrockets. What do you make of this? Jenkins?"
"I know, Sir! We need to hire young, pretty women who will wear slutty clothes to serve our rich oilmen customers."
"Dagnabbit, Jenkins, you're gonna go far in this company. Now go to the highschools and see if any of those pretty young things are looking to buy a car. And while you're out, pick up my drycleaning. And stay away from my daughter!"
When I was that age I worked at a coffee shop and we girls learned purdy quickly that the tighter our shirts were, the higher our tips would go. It would make the difference between leaving with $2.45 or leaving with $15 extra in our pockets. However, we ~did~ have to dress reasonably and not as if we were Las Vegas showgirls. And we weren't ~encouraged~ by our management. We weren't ~deterred~ either, and lets face it, even we knew why our bosses hired almost all young women but this wasn't a situation in which we were all dressed uniformly in a chain restaurant.
I could now launch into my rant about the backlash that has occured against feminism, but....well...hell, I'm gunna:
Over the past decade or so, I've noticed a serious reaction to feminism in North America in which, like a Phoenix from it's ashes, "The Lout" has risen to become profitable and sexy once again.
Women my age (early 30s) might recall the feminism of our mothers that wound itself into our every thought when we were coming of age in the late 80s/early 90s. But it was ~their~ generation's brand of feminism and when Camile Paglia came out kicking, screaming and foaming at the mouth we all rushed out to buy her book because it was what we needed. We felt we had been denied our sexuality and resented the 'earth mother' that morphed from the feminism we had known. Camile Paglia liked porn, she liked loud noises, she was unreasonable and we felt redeemed.
Not sure when the Riot Grrls came into the scene...but it was about this time. So, them too.
Anyway...so, we finally got to hold our heads high and march, arms linked and heeled high, out into the night to get drunk in our miniskirts, pick up (or be picked up by) whomever we wanted and call it 'reclaiming our control'...or whatever we said it was at the time. We refused to be 'victims' anymore...we were taking responsibility for our choices. We became aggressive, garish, loud, obnoxious, blatant...and other adjectives. We became lout-ish...but with eye makeup and a purpose.
I think men liked it...but mostly because we were being brash with our sexuality. When we used to yell at them, I think they liked it less.
What happened, though...the Spice Girls. They took it, put a bit more sugar in to counter the spice (no pun) and we had 'Girl Power (tm)' . *Whammy!* it was marketable. Girl Power (tm) is cutesy nauseating, but sorta useful, I guess. It's good that young girls and women wake up in the morning with the 'girl power' mantra floating in their heads. Whatever makes them feel powerful is a good thing. But...ugh.
On the other foot, though, the male backlash to all this feminist activity swirling around them was to take the sexuality but ditch the aggression. So, now the pinups they've always loved of Pam Anderson...they were nothing to be ashamed of. And strip clubs were something to be celebrated. Women get the message that no matter how much you work, how much you try to educate yourself , how much yoga you do or how much herbal tea you drink, a man with whom you are in love actually ~wants~ to be with his buddies being served cold beer by chicks with big tits and have nothing more to say than, 'Want more?', 'Bet your wife doesn't do this.' and 'Have you met my twin sister?'
Let me say here that I actually have no beef against strippers or anything. These women choose to do what they're doing and it's profitable...so whatever. My problem is that it went from 'just a thing' to a celebration of men's rights to be pigs...and pride in chauvinistic attitudes.
I used to believe it, too. The Lout's lie. That men had base instincts that had been denied them and now they can fulfill them to their hearts content. Men ~are~ visual creatures and ~do~ gawk a little more than women do, but I've come to understand that their lack of grace and manners are their ~own~ fault. Men don't ~have~ to be The Lout. Men don't ~have~ to watch strippers with their buddies and try to feel up the waitress because they have the choice to be decent and mature. And not all men choose that for their entertainment. Men don't ~have~ to go glassy-eyed and drooly and don't have to 'juggle women' (or pretend to) to feel masculine. Men can ~want~ to be with their imperfect girlfriend/wife and appreciate her thoughts and actions ~without~ stating loudly their right to go out with the boys, get drunk and dump water on some girl in a white t-shirt.
The Man Show, beer commercials, Spike television, Maxim...everywhere you look there's men reclaiming the reclamation women celebrated just years before. The difference is, we celebrated a furtherment in our emancipation. The Lout celebrates taking that back.
And ~that's~ why these restaurants gave themselves the green light to hire an almost exclusively young, hot, and female serving staff, clothed in garments that are irritatingly slutty, and encourage them to be cute and flirty with the customers. The Lout is a big spender and now he feels he's owed.
I went to one of these places with my mother for dinner recently and the waitress interrupted us, in her cute and flirty way, a few times during a very indepth mother/daughter conversation. My god! At least review your customer profile! Flirting with my mother isn't going to get you any more tips!
I'm not sure this is what the Suffragettes had in mind.
Monday, March 14, 2005
Saturday, March 12, 2005
the play's the thing
Last night I went to see my dear friends in their performance of a one act play as part of a 'one act play' festival at the Pumphouse Theatre. They chose the play No One Will Be Immune by David Mamet.
1- I was really impressed since the man who took the main role is a dear dear friend with very little acting experience compared to many other (non-doing-anything) actors in this city. I know next to nothing about theatre, but I do know this...g-damn that was hard stuff! He did a great job of it.
2- Turns out I love David Mamet. What a great piece and upon a little research, he's done a bunch of stuff I've enjoyed (Wag The Dog).
All in all a great evening. Nice work Scott and Erin!
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
Saturday, March 05, 2005
time travel
Tonight I sat on my balcony (since I won't have a balcony soon) with my portable barbeque, a lighter, and two of my old journals.
However cleansed you felt having written a journal in your late teens/early twenties...let me tell you, you'll feel ~more~ cleansed the moment you rip out a page you just read and watch it smoulder on the ashes of it's fallen comrades.
Wow.
I read two journals from about 11 years ago. I probably spanned ages 21 and 22.
I'm happy to report I've learned a lot since then.
I am embarrassed to report that I was a complete nitwit...and probably still am in some arenas.
Know what else? I found half a tab of acid, wrapped in cigarette foil, stapled to one of the pages. A little journal detective work leads me to the conclusion that I ate the other half of that tab on Bermuda Shorts Day during my 3rd year of university.
I had no idea I had that. I don't think I've touched the stuff for at least a decade.
It went in the toilet.
Friday, March 04, 2005
Proverbs
I heard this somewhere a long time ago. I think it was Stephen Fry, but if it was, I have no idea if he was quoting someone else or if he made it up.
I love Stephen Fry.
Anyway...
"There are two types of people in this world. One who thinks there's two types of people in this world and the other that knows better."
I know it sounds trite, but I think it does us all well to remember that.
I love Stephen Fry.
Anyway...
"There are two types of people in this world. One who thinks there's two types of people in this world and the other that knows better."
I know it sounds trite, but I think it does us all well to remember that.
Thursday, March 03, 2005
Move over Oprah
....there's a new book club in town.
Simon Le Bon's book club, thank you very much.
Say what you want, the man has written some fantastic lyrics.
(He wrote those, didn't he? I always assumed.)
The least I could do is consider his opinions on books.
Simon Le Bon's book club, thank you very much.
Say what you want, the man has written some fantastic lyrics.
(He wrote those, didn't he? I always assumed.)
The least I could do is consider his opinions on books.
With a step to the left and a flick to the right...
...you caught the mirror way out west, Simon.
I'm going to the Duran Duran concert on Monday.
I have waited my entire life to say those words.
I'm being accompanied by my dear and oldest friend Julie. She is a woman with whom, many many years ago, I made the informed and conscious decision to fall utterly and hopelessly in love with Simon LeBon. In truth, I had no real choice since the only other Duran I would have been even slightly interested in was John and Julie let me know in no uncertain terms that he was hers and hers alone and if I wanted to be a Duranie that discussed the latest Tiger Beat interview with ~her~, I was to pick from any of the remaining 4. Andy was too rocker, Roger too shy and Nick far too gay...so Simon it was and I never did regret that decision.
We also attended a very small school...there wasn't that many 'friends in Duran Duran' partners to go around. 'Specially since everyone besides us wore their older brother's old Nazareth t-shirts to give their unique statements on fashion.
That same older brother was usually still in our grade.
So...I began collecting posters. At one stage of my obsession, I'm certain I had over 200 posters and pin-ups of Duran Duran on my walls, each one lovingly torn out of teen mags or bought, with my weekly allowance of $5 a week, from the closest record store I could reach by bus.
I even asked pen pals to send me what they had and received a Swedish fold out poster which filled me with so much pride it, apparently, made me impossible to be around for at least a week.
Wow did those stars look like girls back then, hey?
I wonder why in the 80s the feminization of men was such hot stuff. I mean, I understand the 70s Ziggy Stardust androgynous chic. That was all about sex and breaking gender boundries. It was naughty and decadent. It seems to me that by the eighties it had been watered down to a non-threatening 'pre-teen girl's best friend' look. And boy, did I fall for it. I even had a Micheal Jackson poster of him looking ~almost~ as girly as he does now.
Little did I know way back then that he was targeting my age group, but not my gender. I was one X chromosome away from the danger zone.
Allegedly.
Anyway...I'm excited. I've remained a Duran Duran fan, though I've done away with the posters and I just recently saw a photo of Simon sunning the back side of himself nude. The emotions I felt upon stumbling across ~that~ little gem weren't so much positive as they were negative so I'm guessing the ~crush~ part of my patronage is over.
I'll tell ya how it went.
I'm going to the Duran Duran concert on Monday.
I have waited my entire life to say those words.
I'm being accompanied by my dear and oldest friend Julie. She is a woman with whom, many many years ago, I made the informed and conscious decision to fall utterly and hopelessly in love with Simon LeBon. In truth, I had no real choice since the only other Duran I would have been even slightly interested in was John and Julie let me know in no uncertain terms that he was hers and hers alone and if I wanted to be a Duranie that discussed the latest Tiger Beat interview with ~her~, I was to pick from any of the remaining 4. Andy was too rocker, Roger too shy and Nick far too gay...so Simon it was and I never did regret that decision.
We also attended a very small school...there wasn't that many 'friends in Duran Duran' partners to go around. 'Specially since everyone besides us wore their older brother's old Nazareth t-shirts to give their unique statements on fashion.
That same older brother was usually still in our grade.
So...I began collecting posters. At one stage of my obsession, I'm certain I had over 200 posters and pin-ups of Duran Duran on my walls, each one lovingly torn out of teen mags or bought, with my weekly allowance of $5 a week, from the closest record store I could reach by bus.
I even asked pen pals to send me what they had and received a Swedish fold out poster which filled me with so much pride it, apparently, made me impossible to be around for at least a week.
Wow did those stars look like girls back then, hey?
I wonder why in the 80s the feminization of men was such hot stuff. I mean, I understand the 70s Ziggy Stardust androgynous chic. That was all about sex and breaking gender boundries. It was naughty and decadent. It seems to me that by the eighties it had been watered down to a non-threatening 'pre-teen girl's best friend' look. And boy, did I fall for it. I even had a Micheal Jackson poster of him looking ~almost~ as girly as he does now.
Little did I know way back then that he was targeting my age group, but not my gender. I was one X chromosome away from the danger zone.
Allegedly.
Anyway...I'm excited. I've remained a Duran Duran fan, though I've done away with the posters and I just recently saw a photo of Simon sunning the back side of himself nude. The emotions I felt upon stumbling across ~that~ little gem weren't so much positive as they were negative so I'm guessing the ~crush~ part of my patronage is over.
I'll tell ya how it went.
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
bloody red tape, hey?
Monday, February 28, 2005
Play the Peace Doves Game...
Kinda fun, and you'll learn a little, too.
Check out the nobelprize.org site. Lots of interesting stuff to read and the games are pretty neato.
Check out the nobelprize.org site. Lots of interesting stuff to read and the games are pretty neato.
Sunday, February 27, 2005
I'm cukoo for shirley temples...
It's true...I've been sucking Shirley T's back like there's a grenadine shortage.
So, these days, after two Strongbow I start pontificating like...well...the pope.
Sans the trach tube.
This is why I no longer go out drinking with work people. Luckily, my drinking was limited to two ciders and it was mostly bumf that heard me...no harm done. But if it were 5 and I was talking to others....well...
Anyway...
I'm moving.
Totally excited, too.
I finally got up the courage to tell my mother I was shackin' up with my super duper loverboy and after a 2 hour experience that was the conversational equivalent of a pap smear, I feel like I'm all set. I'm an only child..my parents have a HUGE influence on my life. Quit buggin' me.
Actually, for the first time in a situation like this, I feel like I handled things like a mature and healthy adult.
Good girl, Himbly.
So...in a couple of days I'll be giving my notice here and packin' to move to his apartment. And not a minute too soon, I might add. I've had trouble with asshole neighbours and their parking and just last night there was another 'domestic dispute' next door and the cops had to come at 4am. This happened to the last people who lived there.
Must be all the Oz we've been watching. Maybe they can hear it through the walls.
So, these days, after two Strongbow I start pontificating like...well...the pope.
Sans the trach tube.
This is why I no longer go out drinking with work people. Luckily, my drinking was limited to two ciders and it was mostly bumf that heard me...no harm done. But if it were 5 and I was talking to others....well...
Anyway...
I'm moving.
Totally excited, too.
I finally got up the courage to tell my mother I was shackin' up with my super duper loverboy and after a 2 hour experience that was the conversational equivalent of a pap smear, I feel like I'm all set. I'm an only child..my parents have a HUGE influence on my life. Quit buggin' me.
Actually, for the first time in a situation like this, I feel like I handled things like a mature and healthy adult.
Good girl, Himbly.
So...in a couple of days I'll be giving my notice here and packin' to move to his apartment. And not a minute too soon, I might add. I've had trouble with asshole neighbours and their parking and just last night there was another 'domestic dispute' next door and the cops had to come at 4am. This happened to the last people who lived there.
Must be all the Oz we've been watching. Maybe they can hear it through the walls.
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Global Blogger Action Day
Monday, February 21, 2005
rethinking
We rented the 4th season of Oz...
...and I've realized how much I overlooked while pontificating about the goodness vs badness of mankind.
My first mistake is to define anything like that at all. But, I think it's part of the human condition to try to make sense of all...
*waving hands around*
...this.
The point I was overextending earlier was this. We look at how people act in different cultures and situations and tend to judge them with the tools our own experiences have given us. We, as middle class Canadians, are largely not equiped to judge actions taken by people in such different conditions than the ones we live in.
But...there is simply evil acts performed by evil people. Here, there, all over the dang place. Why? Who knows...
I'll think about it.
...and I've realized how much I overlooked while pontificating about the goodness vs badness of mankind.
My first mistake is to define anything like that at all. But, I think it's part of the human condition to try to make sense of all...
*waving hands around*
...this.
The point I was overextending earlier was this. We look at how people act in different cultures and situations and tend to judge them with the tools our own experiences have given us. We, as middle class Canadians, are largely not equiped to judge actions taken by people in such different conditions than the ones we live in.
But...there is simply evil acts performed by evil people. Here, there, all over the dang place. Why? Who knows...
I'll think about it.
Saturday, February 19, 2005
Thursday, February 17, 2005
Stag O'Lee was a bad man
I've been thinking lately about good and evil.
I've especially been pondering, over my chocolate milk, whether human beings are innately good and learn to do evil things or are innately evil and learn to do good things.
Of course...like all things...it's both and it's neither. Damn enigmatic universe.
But...how to squish it into my hard little skull in a way I can understand?
From what I've seen of this world (which, frankly, 32 years is not that long to have looked around and come up with any real answer) there really isn't as many ~evil~ people out there as there is regular people backed into a corner. Desperation brings the average Joe to commit the most evil acts. So does insanity, but that's a whole other kettle of fish. Terrorists, often, are people who feel they have no alternative...that they have no other choice but to fight the only way they can against someone who's far stronger than they are. Insurgents are doing what they can to keep fighting for what ~they~ believe is right. In the case of Iraq, it just happens we (in the western world) don't agree with them. That doesn't make them evil...it makes them scared. Think about the change their country is undertaking. Change, as we all know, is frightening when, say, we're changing careers or our clothing style. Imagine what this change feels like to someone who's life has been determined by a man in the US deciding it was time...and sends in troops to prove it. The acts of the insurgents have been evil but the people performing them are terrified (and seen violence brought to them) and feel there is no other course. We all know they'd get creamed if they even stopped for a second to ~think~ about 'playing fair'.
(...while writing this, I'm considering the questions, "Is Bush and evil man? Is Bin Ladan? Is Hussain? Was Hitler?" and the answer is 'I don't know'. Well, I mean, of course I don't. All have made evil decisions...but I it's far beyond me to declare if an individual were to be evil or not. Yup...I think the wisest thing here is to leave individuals out of it, no matter how tempting it would be...)
Even so, there plainly are evil people out there. It's often the job of evil people to reign in the confused ones, so they can be found sometimes in positions of power. And really, I'm sure we've all met someone who's just plain mean to the core. Not 'rebels'...not the typical brawlers and hooligans you see at the bar...but the ones you've met that you know haven't had one thought as to the wellbeing of anyone else ever. I'm thinking of a girl I used to know in high school who's life's work revolved around making others miserable. If that girl is the same person now...she is f-ing evil.
However, I'm the same person that marvels over the average person's behaviour during different stages of anonymity. Have you noticed how the internet can really bring the a-hole out in someone? It is more comfortable to be meaner in an email than it is the phone....and more the phone than in person. In person you have to really be angry to be mean to them...as mean as you would be behind your computer. And even then, you can be meaner to a stranger than to someone you know.
(Of course, we all know that we can all be super mean to the people we love the most, but that's not anonymity, that's just knowing they will accept you for who you are.)
So..what's that all about? I've had people give me the finger in cars that I ~know~ would't do it if they had to talk to me face to face about the same incident. And I'm not particularly scary. Why, then? The more anonymous, the less chance you'll have to suffer repercussions...so we go ahead and do it.
Where does that all sit in the humans = good vs humans = evil debate? Because even though most people will mouth the words 'fuck you' to the guy in the car in front of them or type furiously that someone 'can't get laid' in an internet chatroom, I would be hard pressed to call it all 'evil'.
Perhaps we're all innately selfish?
Perhaps we're all caught up in our own heads and we really have to work to understand other people.
That would make sense. As babies all we do is think about ourselves. We wake our parents at all hours to get what we want and when we want it. Our mothers could be suffering a nervous breakdown while we want a cookie and unless we're ~taught~ to give a crap, we won't.
So..maybe that's it. We're just all born selfish.
That would explain why my neighbour is an asshole when he parks.
I've especially been pondering, over my chocolate milk, whether human beings are innately good and learn to do evil things or are innately evil and learn to do good things.
Of course...like all things...it's both and it's neither. Damn enigmatic universe.
But...how to squish it into my hard little skull in a way I can understand?
From what I've seen of this world (which, frankly, 32 years is not that long to have looked around and come up with any real answer) there really isn't as many ~evil~ people out there as there is regular people backed into a corner. Desperation brings the average Joe to commit the most evil acts. So does insanity, but that's a whole other kettle of fish. Terrorists, often, are people who feel they have no alternative...that they have no other choice but to fight the only way they can against someone who's far stronger than they are. Insurgents are doing what they can to keep fighting for what ~they~ believe is right. In the case of Iraq, it just happens we (in the western world) don't agree with them. That doesn't make them evil...it makes them scared. Think about the change their country is undertaking. Change, as we all know, is frightening when, say, we're changing careers or our clothing style. Imagine what this change feels like to someone who's life has been determined by a man in the US deciding it was time...and sends in troops to prove it. The acts of the insurgents have been evil but the people performing them are terrified (and seen violence brought to them) and feel there is no other course. We all know they'd get creamed if they even stopped for a second to ~think~ about 'playing fair'.
(...while writing this, I'm considering the questions, "Is Bush and evil man? Is Bin Ladan? Is Hussain? Was Hitler?" and the answer is 'I don't know'. Well, I mean, of course I don't. All have made evil decisions...but I it's far beyond me to declare if an individual were to be evil or not. Yup...I think the wisest thing here is to leave individuals out of it, no matter how tempting it would be...)
Even so, there plainly are evil people out there. It's often the job of evil people to reign in the confused ones, so they can be found sometimes in positions of power. And really, I'm sure we've all met someone who's just plain mean to the core. Not 'rebels'...not the typical brawlers and hooligans you see at the bar...but the ones you've met that you know haven't had one thought as to the wellbeing of anyone else ever. I'm thinking of a girl I used to know in high school who's life's work revolved around making others miserable. If that girl is the same person now...she is f-ing evil.
However, I'm the same person that marvels over the average person's behaviour during different stages of anonymity. Have you noticed how the internet can really bring the a-hole out in someone? It is more comfortable to be meaner in an email than it is the phone....and more the phone than in person. In person you have to really be angry to be mean to them...as mean as you would be behind your computer. And even then, you can be meaner to a stranger than to someone you know.
(Of course, we all know that we can all be super mean to the people we love the most, but that's not anonymity, that's just knowing they will accept you for who you are.)
So..what's that all about? I've had people give me the finger in cars that I ~know~ would't do it if they had to talk to me face to face about the same incident. And I'm not particularly scary. Why, then? The more anonymous, the less chance you'll have to suffer repercussions...so we go ahead and do it.
Where does that all sit in the humans = good vs humans = evil debate? Because even though most people will mouth the words 'fuck you' to the guy in the car in front of them or type furiously that someone 'can't get laid' in an internet chatroom, I would be hard pressed to call it all 'evil'.
Perhaps we're all innately selfish?
Perhaps we're all caught up in our own heads and we really have to work to understand other people.
That would make sense. As babies all we do is think about ourselves. We wake our parents at all hours to get what we want and when we want it. Our mothers could be suffering a nervous breakdown while we want a cookie and unless we're ~taught~ to give a crap, we won't.
So..maybe that's it. We're just all born selfish.
That would explain why my neighbour is an asshole when he parks.
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
An open letter to Heavy Metal...
I was reading the most recent issue of Rolling Stone magazine yesterday.
They had a short interview with Nikki Sixx of Motley Crue fame.
Eff off!
I am SO tired of ancient ex-partier rockers in their leathers STILL on about how damn hardcore they are.
Nikki was lamenting the situation popular music is in. He asked where the Johnny Rottens were? The Joey Ramones? The Ozzys? He wondered who was going to get out there and 'wave their dicks'.
(I'm paraphrasing here because the article isn't in front of me. I remember he said Johnny Rotten, but I think I can fill in the rest even if he didn't use ~those~ particular names.)
Anyway...last I checked they (the ~same guys~) were ~still~ waving their crusty and old dicks during their last 'reunion' tour. Or they died trying.
If you want a new breed of rock and roller to explode onto the scene and take their place in the rock and roll legacy...move over! And while you're at it, here's some eye lotion and baby powder for the chaffing those leather pants are bound to have caused after all these years. You've grown up now...or at least you should have. And stop trying to sound super hard by relating over and over how many drugs you ~used~ to do! Yes, I'm talking to you Velvet Revolver. If you're going to play music, then play music. But -for the love of Christ- shut up or at least say ~something~ new while you're doing it. Anything that doesn't start with, 'oh fuck, I fucking can't believe I'm still fucking alive, maaaan....'.
And...as a personal favour...please don't tell me about your ex-porn star wife and her 'abilities'. 'Cause Tommy wrecked it for you and now it all sounds like, 'awww..fuck, Pam...you're so fucking hot'.
But if you're not going to do that, please don't whine and moan that there just simply is no one out there to replace you. Why would they want to? Why would they try? You're still here! You're still here pleading with your audience to remember you the way you ~were~ so you don't feel so ridiculous up there while you're sober. Ahh...you don't look as good as you thought you did under the influence, hey? Well, don't feel too bad. It worked for you in the 80s.
And another hint for aging rock stars: It's hard to take you seriously after we've seen you strutting (or stuttering, in some cases) your stuff on a reality TV show. Try to grow older with a bit of dignity.
They had a short interview with Nikki Sixx of Motley Crue fame.
Eff off!
I am SO tired of ancient ex-partier rockers in their leathers STILL on about how damn hardcore they are.
Nikki was lamenting the situation popular music is in. He asked where the Johnny Rottens were? The Joey Ramones? The Ozzys? He wondered who was going to get out there and 'wave their dicks'.
(I'm paraphrasing here because the article isn't in front of me. I remember he said Johnny Rotten, but I think I can fill in the rest even if he didn't use ~those~ particular names.)
Anyway...last I checked they (the ~same guys~) were ~still~ waving their crusty and old dicks during their last 'reunion' tour. Or they died trying.
If you want a new breed of rock and roller to explode onto the scene and take their place in the rock and roll legacy...move over! And while you're at it, here's some eye lotion and baby powder for the chaffing those leather pants are bound to have caused after all these years. You've grown up now...or at least you should have. And stop trying to sound super hard by relating over and over how many drugs you ~used~ to do! Yes, I'm talking to you Velvet Revolver. If you're going to play music, then play music. But -for the love of Christ- shut up or at least say ~something~ new while you're doing it. Anything that doesn't start with, 'oh fuck, I fucking can't believe I'm still fucking alive, maaaan....'.
And...as a personal favour...please don't tell me about your ex-porn star wife and her 'abilities'. 'Cause Tommy wrecked it for you and now it all sounds like, 'awww..fuck, Pam...you're so fucking hot'.
But if you're not going to do that, please don't whine and moan that there just simply is no one out there to replace you. Why would they want to? Why would they try? You're still here! You're still here pleading with your audience to remember you the way you ~were~ so you don't feel so ridiculous up there while you're sober. Ahh...you don't look as good as you thought you did under the influence, hey? Well, don't feel too bad. It worked for you in the 80s.
And another hint for aging rock stars: It's hard to take you seriously after we've seen you strutting (or stuttering, in some cases) your stuff on a reality TV show. Try to grow older with a bit of dignity.
Monday, February 14, 2005
In response to Bumf's Book Blog challenge...
Excerpt from Bumf's book blog post:
1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.
5. Don’t search around and look for the “coolest” book you can find. Do what’s actually next to you.
HAHAHAHA...okay, this is my bf's book but it's the closest to me:
From the World of Warcraft Official strategy guide:
*ahem*
"Consecrates your weapon, inflicting 80 to 112 additional damage on your next attack. All damage caused is considered holy damage"
Geeky enough for y'all??
1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.
5. Don’t search around and look for the “coolest” book you can find. Do what’s actually next to you.
HAHAHAHA...okay, this is my bf's book but it's the closest to me:
From the World of Warcraft Official strategy guide:
*ahem*
"Consecrates your weapon, inflicting 80 to 112 additional damage on your next attack. All damage caused is considered holy damage"
Geeky enough for y'all??
Friday, February 11, 2005
and other gay penguins....
Effing YEAH!
check this:
slippery
I heard about it on As It Happens coming back from Safeway this evening and simply ~had~ to tell you about it.
I ~love~ these moments because you can take THAT 'it's-an-abomination-ists'! Plus, I think the thought of 6 male penguins humping each other is really cute.
I think I'll go hang outside my apartment and kiss a girl if one walks by (and if you've seen the people walking by my apartment at 10:40 on a Friday, ~that~ would be a funny joke).
check this:
slippery
I heard about it on As It Happens coming back from Safeway this evening and simply ~had~ to tell you about it.
I ~love~ these moments because you can take THAT 'it's-an-abomination-ists'! Plus, I think the thought of 6 male penguins humping each other is really cute.
I think I'll go hang outside my apartment and kiss a girl if one walks by (and if you've seen the people walking by my apartment at 10:40 on a Friday, ~that~ would be a funny joke).
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