Date a geek today

Can I say it? I feel really sorry for people who are dating now.

A whole generation has gone by since I last shopped for males. (In November, we will celebrate our 24th anniversary.) And from the looks of things, it's gotten kinda ugly out there.

I think it must be terrible for people to look you up and down, talk to you for five minutes, then press the buzzer: NEXT. Back in the day, before the internet, things were slower. You usually didn't press the NEXT buzzer until you knew the person fairly well and were CERTAIN it was time to press the NEXT buzzer. And even then, you might keep that person around as a good friend, the way Chris Rock says women keep a man in the wings: "In Case of Emergency, Break Glass." (Yes, she admitted, head hung low, I did that for years. Because as Chris Rock says, you never know.)

This post was inspired by a geek-hating tirade, and I just had to say something.

As an old lady married to a geek, let me say, geeks are the greatest. AND the smartest. (I admit, being married to a genius is important to my self-image.) But I understand that not everyone feels that way. Big Blogdonia hoopla over this intended-humorous post over at Gizmodo. (I thought Gizmodo was a geeky-site, so I was surprised that they would run an anti-geek piece.) Trendy young woman dates a geek, and suffers extended apoplexy:

The next day I Googled my date and a wealth of information flowed into my browser. A Wikipedia page! Competition videos! Fanboy forums! This guy isn’t just some professional who dabbled in card games at a tender age. He’s widely revered in the game of Magic that he’s been immortalised in his own playing card.

Just like you’re obligated to mention you’re divorced or have a kid in your online profile, shouldn’t someone also be required to disclose any indisputably geeky world championship titles? But maybe it was a long time ago? We met for round two later that week.

At dinner I got straight down to it. Did he still play? “Yes.” Strike one. How often? “I’m preparing for a tournament this weekend.” Strike two. Who did he hang out with? “I’ve met all my best friends through Magic.” Strike three. I smiled and nodded and listened. Eventually I even felt a little bit bad that I didn’t know shit about the game. Here was a guy who had dedicated a good chunk of his life to mastering Magic, on a date with a girl who can barely play Solitaire. This is what happens, I thought, when you lie in your online profile. I was lured on a date thinking I’d met a normal finance guy, only to realise he was a champion dweeb in hedge funder’s clothing.

I later found out that he infiltrated his way into OKCupid dates with at least two other people I sort of know, including one of my co-workers. Mothers, warn your daughters! This could happen to you. You’ll think you’ve found a normal bearded guy with a job, only to end up sharing goat cheese with a world champion of nerds. Maybe I’m an OKCupid arsehole for calling it that way. Maybe I’m shallow for not being able to see past his world title. But if everyone stopped lying in their profiles, maybe there also wouldn’t be quite as many OKCupid horror stories to tell.

This post exploded onto several blogs, as the geeks and geek-defenders came out in force. Gizmodo even replied semi-officially and took the guy's name out of the piece. (But with the multitude of information the author has provided, it would be really easy to locate him and his name.) Sady Doyle takes up the charge and defends the initial poster and her account of the shitty date. (NOTE: Sady is far funnier.) Eventually THAT thread has to be closed down too. The whole thing has caused a near-riot in Blogdonia.

Meanwhile, I am rendered mute and remain utterly clueless about the whole thing. Really? A game? Really?

And what's wrong with goat cheese?

See there, I am already hopelessly uncool. I don't even understand the underlying premises of why this man is bad. As far as I can see, he didn't insult her or women in general, did not grab her tit or pinch her ass, was reasonably literate and dressed inoffensively. (She offhandedly says they discussed "normal stuff" and includes "college" as one of those "normal" things... obviously, a man who had not been to college at all would not have been regarded as "normal" or good enough, regardless of his interests or intelligence. In virtually all angry replies to the post, this casual elitism was unremarked upon.) Is it supposed to be bad or good to dress like a hedge fund guy? And why? Is capitalism considered an unbridled good by this person? If the guy had oodles of money (if his card-game-of-choice was the World Series of Poker rather than Magic: The Gathering), would she have been impressed?

Feminism is not just about women. Feminism is also about men. We cannot expect men to transcend their base desires and like us as people, if we are not willing to do the same to them. If we judge men solely by their wallets or their hobbies, we can hardly be angry when they judge us by our boobs or our weight.

Does it shock you when I tell you I married AN UNEMPLOYED PERSON? Of course, now, he has had his job longer than everybody, but when I met him, this was certainly not the case. Sady says there is no such thing as the Frog turning into the Prince and sees this as propaganda for girls to accept Frogs and to be happy with them:

We get a lot of sexist narratives about love, but none of them are more pernicious and subtle than this: The Frog Prince story. You could call it “Beauty and the Beast,” too. Or you could call it “Twilight,” or “Knocked Up,” or “Rory Williams Won’t Stop Whining;” it’s always the same story, anyway. Girl meets guy. On the surface, this guy is unappealing! Because he’s a frog! Or he’s not sexually attractive to her, or he treats her badly, or he’s immature, or he’s Rory Williams and he won’t stop whining; all of these are frog-like states, generally considered unkissable. But only a bitch would think that frogs don’t deserve our sweet, sweet kisses, so the woman doesn’t leave. Instead, she looks for the guy’s good qualities. She lowers her standards; she changes her expectations. She gives up on her silly little “ideas” about “attractiveness” or “compatible lifestyles” or “having fun with her partner.” Finally, she loses touch with her own desires to the point that she winds up making out with a fucking frog. At which point he becomes a prince. Or a loving husband, or a responsible person, or a whiny little Roman Centurion; the point is, in these stories, once you give up on wanting things from men, men magically become what you want.

Here’s the secret, though, if you are the girl in this particular story: That guy never became a prince. At all. He’s still the same guy; he still possesses all those qualities you initially found unappealing, for all sorts of valid reasons. People don’t go from frog to mammal overnight, and they particularly don’t do so because you ask less of them; you are still making out with a frog, in the long run. The only reason he looks like a prince nowadays is that you lowered your standards to the point that you literally could not tell the difference between frog and mammal.

First of all, I was an alcoholic very active in AA when he met me, a single welfare mother with a three-year-old child, so I was not free of my own amphibian tendencies. And maybe those flaws are pretty glaring, but you know, everyone has them. Everyone. But because mine WERE so glaring, I could not lie about them or hide them, and had to face them up front. I was not a terrific bargain, and I did not present myself that way. Perhaps everyone should consider that? (Aside: Working-class and poor kids are frequently asked by their peers, Who do you think you are?, and I often wonder if the middle-and-upper-class kids are ever asked that question, because they sure don't act like it. But I digress.)

And second, I find it interesting Sady thinks the Frog tale is a propaganda story for women... when I think women wrote the story, out of personal experience.

In short, we SAW the prince emerge, so we know. For sure.

As one who has been married three times, let me share something crucial: you do not know who men are until the shit hits the fan. (Yes, I'm afraid the military is right about that one.) Our characters are forged in crisis. Will this man stand by you when you go to court with the ex? When you are sick? Been fired? Lost your mother? How will he respond? What kind of father will he be? You don't know any of this ahead of time, even if you think you do. One of the worst things that can ever happen, is finding out that you married someone who can't deal with emotions or reality, who subsumes himself in work or TV or porn. When you are young and carefree and everything is fun, you can easily handle things. But the first time something HAPPENS (i.e. somebody becomes an alcoholic, okay: ME) and this person can't deal? They will cut you loose and move on. It turns out they are not someone cut out for the long haul, and you had no clue. (How could you have had a clue? Nothing BAD had ever happened before.) You could go years and never know this about a man. And it happened to me.

What you want is a man who understands what true partnership means. These men are rare, so rare in fact, that you shouldn't turn them away just because they play the wrong game. Really, that is the least of it. (Some hints I can offer in retrospect: during the dating period, does he keep his distance when you are upset or yowling? Does he say, "call back when you have calmed down"? Move on. When you have children together, he will treat them like shit and refuse to deal. Because as you probably know, kids yowl all the time.)

The secret to being married a long time is: Your souls merge. Your MINDS merge. You may not like his games, but you will learn about them nonetheless. Even more than that: you will learn what traits he displays while playing said game, and why it makes him so happy. Similarly, he may not like your stuff either, but he will learn the lyrics of Who songs anyway. Eventually, you hear him tell someone else that the Who was great, and you privately preen. Just to yourself.

At this point, we finish each other sentences, or don't even bother with whole sentences.

Example: TV commercial comes on.

Him: "That reminds me of..."

Me: "Yeah, but that was a different actor."

Him: "No, same guy."

Me: "You sure?"

Friends: stare at us dumbfounded, and we don't even know why, until they tell us.

And I like it that way. :)

So here I am, defending the geeks. Because I am happily married to one, and have been for a long time. And girls, if you overlook them as a category, you are cheating yourselves. You really are.

But then, I occasionally eat goat cheese too. You might want to disregard my opinion.

This is the way the world ends

At left: Street preacher at Bele Chere unequivocally informs us we are destined to hell, as the fellow at right advertises "Sexy Man Dance $2"... and do I have to tell you what kind of huge wad of bills he had by the end of the day? Priceless entertainment, my friends. (More of my Bele Chere photos HERE.)



Yes, I have numerous excellent excuses for why it has taken me two weeks to update. ((hangs head in shame))

But damn, I am not sure why I should feel guilty for not updating a blog that it appears no one reads any more (according to Sitemeter, et. al.) Lately, whenever I go to the library, I make sure to give my own blog a hit, that's how pathetic the situation is. Beyond that, I have been thoroughly confused regarding which writing goes where.

For example: I have been chastised many times here on DEAD AIR that ____ (whatever it is I wrote) does not belong on this blog, but on a (pick one) 1) Livejournal 2) Tumblr 3) Dreamwidth 4) Facebook, Twitter or MySpace (etc etc etc). It does? And who decided that? I am afraid I simply do not understand the protocol, as usual.

Roughly speaking, the guidelines are that "personal" stuff is not supposed to be on a blog, unless you have a "personal blog"... but then they get upset with personal bloggers when they blog about politics or religion. If you have a "political blog"--then you are not supposed to write about "personal" issues. Further, if you have a quarrel with someone within Blogdonia, you are supposed to go to Tumblr or one of those, to air your differences. (Got all that?)

As I said, I am unaware of who wrote all these nosy-parker rules, and when. But they have left me confused, wondering if I am doing it wrong (again) and so forth. Even after four years of blogging, I become hesitant, but of course (as you see!), not for long. But I absolutely hate the fact that all of these dumbass, informal "rules" have wormed their way into my head. Bah.

And so, the personal and impersonal will continue to be all mished-mashed together on DEAD AIR. Sorry about that, rule-keepers and protocol-enforcers of Blogdonia!

~*~

I devoured Margaret Atwood's "The Year of the Flood" (2009) in one sitting. I did not realize this novel was contemporaneous with the totally-fabulous "Oryx and Crake" (2003)--I had mistakenly believed it was a sequel. And I refuse to read sequels to end-of-the-world tales... either it's the end or it isn't. I have always found "Oryx and Crake" to be the most believable and realistic version of the End of Days--and I have read a parcel of em.

Yes, this is the way the world ends.

I loved "The Year of the Flood"--the apocalypse as told from another group within the same time-frame and using the same motifs (and some of the same characters) as "Oryx and Crake." The religious cult in the novel, God's Gardeners, is the best fictional religious cult I've ever come across; I would most assuredly be joining if I was there. The sermons and hymns in the book are fantastic. Atwood's idea that in the future, rather than the Litany of the Saints, we will have litanies of extinct species, is one that will stay with me forever.

Margaret Atwood is a genius, straight up. If she wrote a bunch of these books, I would read them all; she needs to set up shop and do a whole series, like Narnia or something. It would turn a lot of us into junkies, and she would get very rich.

Okay, but what, you sensibly ask, does this have to do with not updating your blog?

Well, because as with JG Ballard, I started thinking seriously about the end of the world and how it would happen. And then, the Tea Party began (continued?) their major economic fuckery, and it was suddenly as if the book was being acted out right in front of me, or at least the earliest stages. Are we going to end up privatizing the police forces and prisons? How can we pay for government if these "budget cuts" keep continuing? Will a huge multinational corporation, Manchurian Global or one of those, run the world at last? Will we put the worst criminals into something called "Painball" (possibly a nod to ROLLERBALL), organizing them into gangs and providing them with laser-like weapons and then broadcasting their deaths on TV? (And WHY shouldn't capital punishment be profitable also?)

In short, the President has surrendered on the Debt Ceiling issue, putting all of our futures at risk... this is crucial not just to us oldsters who are rapidly approaching decrepitude, but to the future of our environment as well. Nero fiddles, as The Tea Party continues to mouth their well-calculated fibs. My favorite article-title in this debacle, hands down, quoted Missouri's Democratic congressman Rep. Emanuel Cleaver: The Debt Ceiling Deal: 'A Sugar-Coated Satan Sandwich'

You just can't get any more to the point than that, now can you?

I dunno about yall, but I am thinking of starting a God's Gardeners parish, or cell, or whatever they are going to be called.

Dear Netroots Nation

Why did your fabulous, hoity-toity blogger conference cost $335 to attend (NOT including travel and lodging costs) when you are supposedly allied with the LEFT?

Do you see the irony here?

Is there some reason it has to be so expensive? Exactly where does all this money GO TO? You aren't paying rich people to give speeches, are you? As leftists, why aren't you paying poor people to give speeches instead? (PS: Do you know any? Do you need a list?)

If the RightOnline conference is in the same venue, how come they could charge $49 for their conference? Why does the right wing understand that these are harsh economic times, but you don't?

Do you see the irony here?

And yes, I realize there are "scholarships"* for us unfortunate poor schlubs who can't afford your exclusive, cool-kids conference. (Do we have to officially certify our poverty, as when applying for welfare?) My question: Why can't you charge $49 so you won't need to peddle "scholarships" in the first place?

Do you understand there is a very serious problem, when LEFTISTS (who supposedly care about the poor) cannot afford to attend a leftist conference of elitists who have deliberately closed them out? Do you understand there is a very serious problem, when the RightOnline conference WANTS to include the poor people that you have deliberately excluded? What do you make of that?

What does it mean that I can afford the RightOnline conference and not Netroots Nation? It means they care about me and welcome me, and you don't.

Why don't you? And where do you get off calling yourselves progressive, when in reality, you are exclusionary, exclusive elitists?

THIS is why the Tea Party is winning. THIS. IS. WHY.

And when they say the Left does not care about regular Americans? When they say that you only care about identity politics and theory? What is your answer to them? Your answer is: The difference between $335 and $49, which to you probably doesn't amount to much, so you don't get it. Its the difference between Banana Republic and Walmart. Your conference attendees will wear the first brand, the RightOnline attendees will wear the second.

And you still think you are the compassionate ones.

~*~


(*) Who thought up this offensive terminology? "Scholarships" are for kids going to school. The juvenile term "scholarship" reduces the seeker of charity to being a child. Why don't you just call it a voucher and show poor folks a wee bit o' respect? (Of course, true respect would be to make it affordable and accessible to everyone, and I think we know you have no such intention.)

Yes, I've written about this before. (sigh)

Fun with anti-feminists

At left: Falls Park hydrangeas! Purty!



Big news today: In case you didn't know, the skinnier a woman is, the more money she makes. By contrast, overweight men have higher salaries than thinner men. Go on, you say, they actually required some sociological study to prove that?

Apparently so:

A new study reveals that thinner women -- and larger men -- tend to make the most money.

"Early Show" Contributing Correspondent Taryn Winter Brill reported new research from the University of Florida (pdf) finds that, for women, corporate America is just like a catwalk -- the smaller your waist -- the bigger your paycheck. But if you're a man looking to snag that corner office, don't worry about skipping dessert. Thinner men actually make less money.

According to the study, women who weighed 25 pounds less than the group norm earned about $16,000 more per year. A woman 25 pounds above the group norm earned about $14,000 less. Thinner men, on the other hand, made almost $9,000 less than their average male co-worker.

One of those things I didn't need a study to tell me. But the right-wingers and anti-feminists demand copious data for every single political assertion, therefore DEAD AIR will carefully tuck this one away for the next unpleasant occasion one of them attempts to argue that women have it made in the shade, sitting at home and madly munching on bon-bons.

Speaking of which...

Ballgame, annoying moderator at the contentious anti-feminist blog FEMINIST CRITICS, self-righteously howls in indignation when he believes he is banned by a pro-feminist men's blog. Positively bug-eyed over his ill treatment, he writes:

Still reluctant to believe that a critical-but-respectful comment had been purged, or that I had been banned on the basis of that comment, I scoured the site’s comment policy and discovered two things. One, TGMP [The Good Men Project] bars “comparisons to genocidal dictators and their brutal regimes.” Two, the site apparently has a ‘one strike and you’re out’ policy.

That's pretty funny, since Ballgame banned me for "critical-but-respectful comments"--but I guess that's somehow different.

The difference is: one standard for men, another for women.

Ballgame banned me simply for disagreeing (loudly) with him and refusing to pinky-swear that I was arguing in "good faith"--when no such promise is extracted from the dozens of offensive Men's Rights Androids that frequent his blog. In fact, these reactionaries can attack feminists with gusto and it's all regarded as hunky-dory by Ballgame. Feminists, however, can not attack back in the same disrepectful tone.

So now Ballgame's karma catches up with him. (giggle)

Oh wait... not to worry, after howling and (most especially) reminding the guys at TGMP that he is an important blogger, they have unbanned him. But of course! Boys will be boys, bros before hos. Etc.

And BTW, exactly WHAT is Ballgame disagreeing with at TGMP? His blog post title says it all: Questioning Sexual slavery. He demands DATA, because simply passing all those female junkies in the red light district and watching Frontline isn't enough for him. (Amnesty International, Shamnesty International!) He is skeptical. Skeptical of what? Women's words, of course.

Might this be an example of "bad faith"? Running a blog called "Feminist Critics" that you pointedly ban feminists from and then writing posts demanding readable DATA before you concede that sexual slavery exists? Uh-huh.

Bad faith = anti-feminism, in its entirety.

The static hurts my ears

As stated in previous comments, I don't know from tumblr, despite various net-savvy people attempting to explain it's sacred mysteries to me. Therefore, I couldn't respond to the latest charges being lodged. So, I will have to do it here.

For the record, I'd really rather not, but it does appear necessary, at this point. (sigh)

This is from the tumblr blog The View From My Brain:

I didn’t read the post when you linked it before, so I didn’t realise who it was. Daisy Deadhead of Daisy’s Dead Air is a hateful bigoted and privileged asshat.

She is the feminist who literally told me to go die, because my coping methods for my autism issues were not approved by her holy vegan standards. And she did this in a discussion about something completely irrelevant, rather than on the post where my coping method was actually mentioned.

Good God, yall.

I have no idea at all what this refers to. I do not know Jemima Aslana, although I have seen her name before. I have never interacted with her, although I think she may have commented here once or twice. I have commented (in the past) on lots of blogs, but as stated above, have not figured out how to "do" tumblr and Aslana's blog is a tumblr blog. So the comments she refers to could not have been made on her blog. I'd like to know where this (mythical) exchange took place?

As regular readers know, I am not vegan and could not live more than 72 hrs (at most) without cheese--preferably smoked gouda or Tillamook aged cheddar. I think she has me confused with someone else.

Further, "literally" telling people to "go die"--that just isn't me. That is somewhat ungrammatical and unpoetic; I am more likely to quote Lou Reed, "I'm just waiting for [them/you] to hurry up and die," which I've been saying since the release of Sally Can't Dance. Old habits die hard. (I have never quite broken the habit of saying "far out" in, well, far out circumstances.) Simply put, I am not a person who tells people to go die, all while upholding holy vegan standards I don't have.

Of course, Jemima Aslana didn't bother to link to this very incendiary accusation. She was so eager to join the junior-high-school pile-on, she couldn't be bothered to check the facts. And said pile-on does get ugly, as I am enthusiastically called a "total shithead" and suchlike, by people who have never met me... including an individual I once foolishly complimented for their writing. (For some reason, I especially feel like the archetypal dumb hillbilly when someone I have lavishly complimented turns on me.)

As for the other spin-offs from spin-offs from Tweets and Twats and alllll the rest? I can't keep up. It all started here, but I am now getting links from strange corners of tumblrville and beyond. It's like that child's game "Telephone"--now they are writing about the writing about the writing about me, not writing about what I exactly wrote. If that makes sense. This is why I decided to address Jemima's accusation, since it seems to have taken on a life of its own and is getting repeated even more than anything I wrote on Renee's blog [Womanist Musings].

And it simply isn't true.

But I saved the best for last! Jemima's last paragraph:

Believe me, sweetheart, you aren’t getting anywhere with Daisy. She will first derail and if that doesn’t work for then she will assault your mental health until you become suicidal. I advise you to pull out now, because it can never end well with her. Never.

Jemima darlin, I have to say, that paragraph is one of the most bad-ass things ever written about me, and I love it! Thank you!!!

Am I a bad bitch or what?! ((((preens))))

My mother (who would have happily slit all their tires by now) would be so proud of me. Seriously, I wish she had lived long enough for me to read that paragraph to her, since she often considered me a silly, bubbleheaded peacenik and believed I let people walk all over me. Wouldn't she be thrilled to learn that the apple didn't fall far from the tree?

I must end here, on a decidedly positive note. :)

~*~

When the world is running down - The Police



turn on the radio
the static hurts my ears
tell me where would I go?
I ain't been out in years
turn on the stereo
it's played for years and years
an Otis Redding song
it's all I own

when the world is running down
you make the best of what's still around

Ain't this boogie a mess?

I need some soundtrack to getting tarred and feathered over at Womanist Musings. Comments welcome, here or there.

I am told there is something... off... about the language of my post, according to one gentleman-commenter. I told him, it is likely because I use the language of his mother, rather than his friends.

And a story from the 70s gets translated into a story from NOW, and found weirdly wanting. Well, that was then and this is now, could be why. (I am very, very weary of today's standards being applied to the past. Yes, we all know better now, but that was not the point of the story.)

(sigh)

See, this is why I am so reluctant to guest-blog. HERE at DEAD AIR, yall know I am an old hippie, and I am not taken to task for calling someone ELSE a hippie. Jesus H.

If I recount a story from the 70s, some of yall can even REMEMBER the 70s. ;)

Anyway, speaking of old hippies, Frank on Friday to the rescue! What would I do without this show, centering me every Friday at noon?

This one contains one of those incomparable Zappa guitar solos... and of course, Frank's famous dissertation on the meaning of the apostrophe, containing today's blog post title. (It sure is!)

Frank Zappa - Stinkfoot

Plain(s) Feminist R.I.P.

I have tried several times over the past couple of days, to write a decent obit for my friend, Plain(s) Feminist. Her blog is listed below, not updated since February. I had not known that her breast cancer returned, or I would have called, written, anything. Our modern life rushes on, and it stuns us when someone is here today, gone tomorrow, in a scant six or seven weeks. Say what? But, but... she was so vital, so funny, so real, so aware, so present.

And now, she is not.

When I heard, cried my heart out. Got to work, sobbed there too. Good lord, Daisy, get a grip.

I have realized that my various existential crises are all bound up with death, my fear of death and my anger at death for taking the wrong people. I just wrote about awful individuals like Michele Bachmann and Newt Gingrich... they are still in this world and beautiful, kind, selfless Plain(s) Feminist (herein referred to as PF) is gone. This is not justice; this just makes me so upset. I ask God, as I often do: Excuse me, but WHAT IS THAT SHIT?!? I never get an answer, just the reminder that sooner or later, you, me, Michele Bachmann, Newt Gingrich and everyone else in the world, will hear from the Grim Reaper as well. But why so soon... why interrupt her work, her social activism, her writing, her teaching, her motherhood, her PLANS?

Rage, rage, against the dying of the light.

~*~

Once upon a time, I was devastated and confused beyond telling, and there are times I unwillingly return to this state when I cruise around Feminist Blogdonia. I once had many friends there, and happily, proudly populated my blog-roll with them. Most are still there, even as they have exiled me. A major fallout on a fairly-large email list, left me persona non grata among many of these people... all (but one) much younger than me. Most had college degrees (even advanced degrees) and there was no question that I was waaaay out of my league. Blundering in with my uncouth redneck sensibility and using the wrong language was bound to happen. When it did, and I was tarred and feathered in short order (leaving me dazed and confused, even now), PF was one of the people who comforted me and explained things (see link above). This is part of being a woman, this is also a struggle of feminism... that women should learn to work together. It is not surprising that we don't know how; that instead, we savage each other. We have been raised to do that, after all. She wrote to me, "When a friend of mine tells me I've misunderstood her, I listen to that." And she did.

How precious to find the person who listens. Her students were so lucky.

I can't add much to what others have written... please read Kittywampus, since she knew PF better than I did and has also collected obituary-links. Some have used her given name and some have not, and I am confused about whether that is acceptable, so when in doubt, I don't. But other people have, and if you are in the Women's Studies field, you may have known her. Please go check out the links and pay your respects.

I once told PF that I believed the advent of Women's Studies was the death of activist feminism, an (honest) opinion I lob every now and then, to see what the professors will say. (It's a dead horse, so I no longer beat it, but I did for years.) Most of them have just sneered back, huh UH! and shook their heads forcefully, nary missing a beat. But none took the charge seriously. When I said it rather offhandedly to PF, she emailed me specifically and asked me to elaborate, and kindly asked for evidence. Wow, really?! Nobody every did that before, so I chronicled some of my decades-long observations. She emailed me and said yes, those are great points (!) and we need to CONNECT women's studies to activism, always, or it is just an academic thing, no different or any more enlightening or important than other academic pursuits. And in her life, she did this... she belonged to all kinds of activist groups and also supported many activist women. She walked the walk and talked the talk. And how RARE is that? (Unfortunately, this brings me back to my anger that the rare jewels are taken from us, while the baddies are here in full force--gahhh!!!) PF asked me to have patience with the Women's Studies grads and see them as having been "prepped" by her and others, for the activism that I might teach them... a hand-off, if you will. The idea that we were working together was such a radical one, such a great concept. We would all, gladly, work for PF, and make sure her newly-radicalized students fulfilled her dreams.

PF leaves a life-partner and son.

Goodbye, my friend. We should all have your zeal, your energy, your drive, your love, your essential decency and morality as applied to women... well, your feminism. Just plain feminism.

Blogger gets fancy

Techies and other blog-geeks may have heard: Blogger/Google has rolled out the fancy new "perspective changes" for Blogspot blogs. The official PR says these new and nifty layouts are "stunning examples of CSS3 and HTML5 Technologies"--whatever that is!

Here are the five new perspectives, and an example of my blog in each one. Which one do you like best?

Flipcard

Mosaic

Sidebar

Snapshot

Timeslide

I am somewhat partial to Mosaic, but Snapshot is also kinda cool. (However, it must be admitted that Sidebar is easiest to read.)

Would you prefer reading blogs in these formats?

Your Friday Blogdonia Soap Opera

You know you've needed one.

I really, really, did not want to address this nonsense here. Really. But when people write entire posts about me, calling me out for my transgressions, well, whatcha gonna do.

What is really funny is that I responded. Like, 12 times, and I was moderated. And they keep asking questions. I answer...incredibly long-ass, intricate replies, and the answer is moderated.

No other choice, but to come here and settle it. (sigh) Like sands through the hourglass, so are the days in Feminist Blogdonia.

~*~

The brawl, we see, starts here and here. (Trigger warning, transphobia)

Background: The so-called radical feminist blog AROOO, aka "A Room of Our Own" (I say "so-called" because they always seemed rather ignorant of Second Wave feminist history, all while claiming it as their own), has a history of extremely nasty transphobia. I was banned from the blog after I objected to (trigger warning, viciousness and bullying) a post in which they (seriously) posted a photo of what they claimed was the genitalia (!) of a trans woman, and made fun of how weird it looks. To me, this was over the top, even more over the top than usual. As regular readers know, I react strongly to making fun of people's appearance, for whatever reason.

I also found it pornographic and deranged, but that's probably quibbling.

Margaret Jamison, the (apparently former) blogger in charge of AROOO, seemed to become more and more obsessed with trans women over time. There was less and less posting about feminism and racism (subjects she was keenly insightful about) and more and more hate speech directed at "tyrannies" (her word for "tranny") that she claimed sent her all manner of threats. This posting-genitalia nervous-breakdown was virtually inevitable. I had believed the general hate speech and turning trans women's attempted-replies into monkey-photos was bad enough, but the genitalia-photo, to me, was the real turning point. I objected, was banned in due course, and went away.

The End. (Or possibly one of those American International horror movies from the 60s: The End?)

Nah, you gotta be kiddin.

Joan Kelly, whom I love, recently met Margaret Jamison in the flesh and became unaccountably besotted with her wonderfulness. Perhaps Margaret is utterly fabulous in person, despite her increasing obsession with trans women, accompanying hate speech and photos of monkeys and genitals, I don't know. I suppose it's possible.

And rather suddenly, Joan has started running all kinds of anti-trans nastiness on her blog (see links above), when she did not used to hold this position. I assume it's to impress Margaret or in solidarity with Margaret, something like that. Unfortunately, these posts are becoming as embarrassingly obsessive and frequent as Margaret's posting at AROOO, which by the way, has ended. Now her co-blogger, Kitty Glendower, has taken over, posting about movies. (?) Huh? What the hell happened?

What happened is that some of Margaret's wack-ass transphobe "friends" (gotta watch those hater-friends, they tend not to be such stable personalities) turned against her (nah, say it isn't so) and posted her private business on the net. I haven't seen any of this private business, but I am assured it exists. (Paranoia will destroya) In fact, I have not seen much discussion AT ALL about Margaret, frankly, except for what I linked above by Suzan Cooke, which is from almost a YEAR AND A HALF AGO (and that tells you how long Margaret has been fulminating non-stop over the evilll trans people, Jesus H Christ).

In one of my offhand snipes in one of the many unpublished posts to the many rants Joan has published over the last few days (including threats to hunt down and shoot whoever outed her dear Margaret... I TOLD you it was bad, people), I mentioned something I've known about Margaret for a long time: the elite school she attended. As regular DEAD AIR readers know, I never forget stuff like that, and if you are going to get all self-righteous with me about 'oppression' -- you'd better not have a major privilege like that stashed away somewhere, or Daisy will drag it out of your privilege-closet and wave it right in your fucking face. Which I did.

And in so doing, I caused Joan and Margaret and the whole Hee Haw gang to have apoplexy. That is PRIVATE INFO!!!! WHO OUTED MARGIE AS A RICH KID!!!???!!! Heads will roll, baby.

Another blog informs me that this so-called "private" info was posted right on Margaret's Facebook page, so I think this is just another excuse to clutch one's pearls, squeal and holler, that the evilll trannies are at it again. I don't remember where I read it, but it didn't seem private... actually, I think Margaret was bragging about it herself when I first read it. (NOTE: people who went to rich, important schools can usually NEVER keep this to themselves for long.)

Anyway (cut to the chase; I am SO SORRY it takes awhile for soap-opera catch-up!), I stand accused of being a racist for comparing the use of the n-word to the use of anti-trans insults (see first link above). I was read the riot act, probably by someone who lives in an all-white neighborhood and never once helped beat up a klansman. Figures.

And I replied, for what, the 12th time? One part of my comment was allowed, the rest was edited. I told Joan, I would print it here if she censored me again. It is really unconscionable to call people out for racism and then not allow them to reply WITHOUT CENSORSHIP to your accusations. I am a lifelong activist who takes such accusations very seriously, not some dilettante who throws words and posts around recklessly. So, here is my complete, unedited reply, which Joan would not publish:



I should be very clear about one thing.

I do think racism and transphobia are analogous. You betcha. Amen. I believe is transphobia/racism are horrific, mindless, oppressive, repressive, evil hatreds of whole groups of people around the world, throughout history, that the haters have NOT EVEN MET. (That’s the part that I find so bizarre and even psychotic.) I grew up with this mindless, obsessive hatred of entire groups of people… and in my piece about my father, I made the analogy between racism and transphobia; I’ve done it before. This isn’t new.

http://daisysdeadair.blogspot.com/2008/09/brute-heart-of-brute-like-you.html

My point was badly made, n-word and ‘transgendered males’–I should not have compared these words, but the hatred they represent. This is what I meant to say, which I only now realize. (my real excuse: exhaustion, lack of education, no time to read over what I type in a hurry, which is almost everything these days. As I have said over and over, I do not have internet access to blogs, email, etc at work.)

A crucial aspect of hating people you have never met, is letting them know, so they will stay away from you. Haters proudly announce hate, by using insulting terms that will hurt. Example: N-word, misgendering. I think the intent to insult is the same. The. Same. And of course, the overall hatred and obsession is VIRTUALLY IDENTICAL in advanced cases like my father and Margie and m_Andrea. And that is what I meant to say, or should have said.

This is what I find analogous, the intent that would cause anyone to say these words after being nicely asked to stop. Words that have prefaced lynching, rape, murder, and thus, deliberately push buttons. NO, by God, you will not spare their feelings.

Neither would my dad, in fact, like Margie, it just made him worse.

Hate is hate and I will never countenance it. Sorry, Joan. But this is what you are trafficking in.

Now, if you cannot post this, as I suspect you can’t, please do your readers the courtesy of letting them know I have responded and delivered the sought-after mea-culpa.

I really hate the ‘putting words in my mouth’ and (I feel you have) incorrectly paraphrased me in this post and find it a hostile act. You can make this up to me by printing this comment. (I guess that will happen after the second Tuesday after the third Wednesday hell freezes over, yeah?)

But you asked, and you got.

~*~

Comments welcome, but rudeness and anti-trans bigotry will get the trap door, as well as a dose of redneck justice, which makes Margaret's [rich school] games, look like a tea party. Be advised, boyz and girlz.

Does Arianna really need the money?

Another great one via Yellowdog Granny!



NPR asks a question I am also asked from time to time: Is Writing Online Without Pay Worth It? I usually answer, well, is listening to music worth it? Is TV worth it? Are movies worth it? Is any form of entertainment "worth it"? Obviously, the intrinsic "worth" of these activities depends on who you are and what you enjoy. And let's face it, if one enjoys writing, we are basically entertaining ourselves by blogging. It's very nice to have readers and to feel appreciated, but many of us would do it even if we didn't have any (and have gone for long periods with negligible numbers of readers/feedback).

My late mother, a singer, used to tell me that the world was filled with good singers and good writers, so get used to it. She was right, and I have.

But the NPR piece pointedly reminds us who benefits from our work, for whatever reasons we decide to do it (hint: not us):

Last week, AOL agreed to buy The Huffington Post for $315 million. The sale will undoubtedly make some people rich.

But David Carr, the media columnist for The New York Times, posed this observation in his column on Monday: "The funny thing about all these frothy millions and billions piling up? Most of the value was created by people working free."

Thousands of unpaid writers' work fills the Internet — on websites and social networking platforms.

"As we all twitter away and type away and update our Facebooks, we're creating the coal that sort of fires this oven," Carr tells NPR host Renee Montagne. "And they continue to own the land."

Aye, that's kinda brutal.

What to do?

Sree Sreenivasan tells Renee Montagne of NPR that the important thing in the ongoing media-upheaval is to "stand out":

In a very crowded Internet space where there's so many voices, I think the voices that have some specific point of view, as well as, you know, a reputation that they've built online or elsewhere are going to stand out. And this is - can be a development seen for better or for worse, but that's the situation. So you're seeing that the importance of being able to standout among many, many voices, commentary is one way to go.

I suppose so, but as many of you already realize (since you are on the net reading blogs, and you are here reading mine)--any fool can "stand out"--and some online folks have sold their souls to "stand out" as surely as any rock star ever did. Bloggers traffic in eyeball-time and numbers of page-views/hits, and if an ugly brawl or something dirty brings the traffic? Well, who cares, it's still traffic and it still translates into popularity.

My question is, who is going to do the "real" journalism? Meaning, who will "pound the pavement" and do all that is necessary (and time-consuming) to bring us FACTS and news stories from "on the scene"? Many bloggers try hard and perform splendidly, but simply don't have the resources and/or connections to follow stories around as a paid journalist can.

And why IS mainstream journalism on the skids? What is it about commentary that is so intoxicating to us, vs those boring old 'facts'? Are 'facts' in jeopardy, as a result?

Is it going to be harder and harder to find out what is REALLY going on? Will there be more and more words (from bloggers and TV-busybodies) spilled over fewer and fewer available facts?

What do you think?

Patched back into the world's mixing board

The battle for the mind of North America will be fought in the video arena: the Videodrome. The television screen is the retina of the mind's eye. Therefore, the television screen is part of the physical structure of the brain. Therefore, whatever appears on the television screen emerges as raw experience for those who watch it. Therefore, television is reality, and reality is less than television. --Brian O'Blivion, Videodrome


In David Cronenberg's groundbreaking film Videodrome, Brian O'Blivion's Cathode Ray Mission allows homeless people the chance to watch lots of TV, which O'Blivion believes is just as crucial as providing food, clothing and shelter. By watching endless TV-blather, homeless persons relearn social-interactions and regain the necessary media-awareness and abilities they have lost by being disconnected.

Watching TV will help patch them back into the world's mixing board... Where else do we learn how to act in a socially acceptable way?-- Bianca O'Blivion, Videodrome

~*~

I didn't have internet service for 5 days. I would almost compare it to drug withdrawal. No doubt, it's as bad as television withdrawal. Brian and Bianca (see above) were right; I felt as if I had been disconnected from the world's mixing board. I took necessary refuge in my second drug of choice, Law and Order reruns.

After the third day (suitably biblical), I felt better, actually more at peace and thinking in whole chapters, rather than in sentences or paragraphs.

When is the last time you took an extended internet break? For how long? I've taken blog-breaks for sure, but few wholesale internet breaks, usually only for a weekend at a stretch. None for as long as 5 days! (I have often wondered if I COULD, frankly; this was totally without my consent, or I probably wouldn't have taken this one!)

What did you notice, whilst disconnected?

Deadheading

When the blue meanies in Blogdonia get nasty with me, they make fun of my official Blogdonia name. :(

Airhead, Deadbrain, etc. "Your name is perfect!" they like to sneer at me. *sigh*

And so, my first short post for the new year (getting in shape for my new blog-habits, shorter posts! more often!) will be to EXPLAIN "Deadhead" (noun) and "Deadheading" (verb).

Deadhead (noun): Fan of the Grateful Dead. (whom I hope need no introduction!)

Deadheading (aviation):

term used for a return flight made by a commercial aircraft without any cargo or paying passengers on board.

By extension, a member of an airline's flight staff carried free of charge but not working is known as a deadhead. This most often happens when airline crew are located in the wrong place and need to travel to take up their duties. This is also known as 'positioning.'

Deadheading (gardening):

refers to the removal of dead or spent flowers either to encourage more flowering or to improve the general appearance of the plant. Most annuals and many perennials will continue to bloom throughout the growing season if deadheaded. Rudbeckia and Echinacea are good examples of perennials that benefit from deadheading.

Deadheading (railroads):

when a crew is transported from one terminal to another, or needs to be transported to pick up a train. When deadheading they may travel by train or auto.

It also refers to the empty, non-revenue-generating movement of a passenger train to a station or yard as required by the schedule. These moves are usually performed to position the equipment and crews for an ensuing, scheduled revenue (passenger-carrying) run.

I like all those definitions!

Admittedly, the floral reference is especially appropriate for me right now; we need to prune the tops of flowers to make the overall plant stronger. Indeed, we certainly do! The roots also benefit from generous deadheading. And what a coincidence, that I am in the process of doing this in my own life.

The name is still accurate and always will be.

Happy New Year, everyone!

Why the Right wing is winning, continued

...because the left no longer tolerates dissent.

I just realized I have been banned from a good half-dozen lefty-blogs in the past few weeks. And not a single right-wing blog has banned me.

I have been as much of a pest at the conservative right-wing blogs as I have been at the liberal-lefty-radical blogs; I have in fact been far more rude and nasty to the Tea Partiers. I have (more or less) minded my manners at all of the lefty blogs, but that hasn't helped me. After all, I AGREE in principle with the lefty bloggers.

All arguments at left-leaning blogs centered on various minor points of dogma, or about the fact of confrontation itself (something the right-wing welcomes and enjoys). The Left will have none of it. It seems the good people of the Left cannot even answer ME, one of their own. How on earth could the Left realistically respond to the Right? Looking at the liberal blogs in question, I see that no outright conservatives are allowed to participate. Looking at the conservative blogs, I see a willingness to take on the liberals, even a zeal to do so.

This is how we know they are on the ascent; they are unafraid.

Meanwhile, the Left cowers and censors some old hippie grandmother who already agrees with them.

Good lord, what's wrong with this picture.

~*~

Standing around in a cozy Christmas huddle with several female customers, chatting/worrying aloud about mercury content in fish, when one of them emphatically remarked: We need to be MAMA GRIZZLIES for the environment.

What?

Oh dear.

Does she know that Sarah Palin, Mama Grizzly of the Mama Grizzly movement, just shot a reindeer, which she will likely roast out on the snow-covered Alaskan tundra, and serve for Christmas dinner? I do not trust rich caribou-killing politicians/reality-TV whores to take care of the environment. I do trust Sarah Palin to be a bloodthirsty warmonger, mindless Republican talking-head and overall narcissistic swine.

Why, I wondered, do I come to such different conclusions than my customer... a very nice lady who speaks to me every day and cares about the poor fish filled with mercury? (She really does, too.)

Is it because of our different backgrounds that we have come to different conclusions? We don't seem that different to me.

That's the scary thing.

~*~

Another reason is that certain dark corners of the Left seem to have no sense of decency these days.

For example, Todd Pettigrew just wrote a spirited defense of incest on Macleans. Not just any incest (of course!) but the gold-standard of incest: father/daughter incest, the sexy kind that gets middle-aged guys excited. All those hot-young-daughter stories on BARELY LEGAL have finally made a cultural impact, and you can almost hear the drooling. These are porn-fantasies come to life, and various men on the left can barely restrain their enthusiasm. If I were Pettigrew's daughter and I lived in his house? I'd be making plans to move. Unless I was too young to move. And then I would have nothing to worry about, needless to say, since this is all about CONSENSUAL incest; this is a defense of incest only AT THE AGE OF CONSENT. Dad only makes the moves on his daughter the DAY SHE TURNS 18. Yes, we all know that's the way it usually happens, huh? It's all very RESPECTFUL and MINDFUL OF THE AUTONOMY OF WOMEN. Sure it is.

Feminists write epistles the length of the Summa Theologica about incest and how it is an abuse of familial and patriarchal power; how it amounts to men creating and brainwashing sexual beings for their own use, and it all comes to this? Some hotshot professor (David Epstein) is busted for "having an affair" with his 20-something daughter, and well... we obviously need to rethink things. I mean, this is a COLUMBIA PROFESSOR! It MUST be okay.

After eons of redneck jokes about southerners banging their sisters and their kids, the people on Central Park West DIDN'T REALIZE that important people of the upper classes want to bang their kids too! They have just received the memo, and they are on the case. We'll have your reputation restored in no time, professor Epstein!

They are now comparing incest to homosexuality, which incidentally, is an argument I first heard from William Donahue of the Catholic League: First they'll say homos are okay and next thing you know, they will be championing incest.

Oh, don't be ridiculous, we replied.

And now, the fashionable liberals are saying just that. They are comparing same-sex peers who have attractions to each other, to someone who RAISED A CHILD to be his sex partner.

Needless to say, this is all guys excusing/defending this behavior... and this is all about David Epstein and Woody Allen and other MEN. I don't see anybody advocating moms diddling their sons (of whatever age) which I think would TERRIFY these men in a way they could not even discuss rationally. All of the examples they offer are about MEN MEN MEN... and their daughters.

Jesus H, has the Left lost all sense of morality? We have 9.8% unemployment (not nearly as sexy a story) and lefty writers are wasting valuable political net-space defending a perverted professor who can't keep it zipped around his own kid.

I figure these sicko defenses of sicko Epstein brought at least another thousand people or so over to the Tea Party side.