I etn't dead

but, I'm not sure if/where this blog is going at this point. I have some vague thoughts of clearing out the blogroll and redesigning this as a writing/fan blog, with some food, or something along those lines. Maybe.

Basically, I'm busy with real life, and I've been rethinking a few things. I'm not posting about them because, bluntly, in the inchoate form I'm in it'd basically come out as a lot of wank. And, I'm trying to cut down on wank. That kind, at least.

Politically, it's kind of...a combination of laziness and denial, and depression at least wrt U.S. political headlines, which can basically be summed up as something like:

"Republicans: 'NO!! Suck our teabag.'"

That's not even it, though. It's not this subject either, although I thought about a response to this post (and seq. linked) at various points these last few weeks. Briefly. Maybe I will at some point. Maybe.

Mainly though I'm in a different mood, and I would just...like to talk about something...else. Mostly I've been doing that somewhere(s) that's else, but I have a certain reluctance to throw shit away, and I put a lot of energy into this blog. So, we'll see.

Meanwhile: I'm never going to be an adult either, but I need to have this woman's little cartoon children.

Gender and color survey results the xkcd way

I WILL EAT YOUR HEART WITH A FUCKING SPOON IF YOU ASK ANY MORE QUESTIONS ABOUT COLORS

On a related note:

"Women like pink things, possibly because of berries in a forest."

Fucked up books of my childhood

Respectively, the Sweet Valley High (and satellites) books, as examined at The Dairi Burger

and VC Andrews (Inc), Trapped in the Attic.

If you, too, had your formative years at all warped by these literary classics, and had blissfully put most of the details out of your consciousness, now's your chance to have it all come flooding back to you, with hilarious commentary.

If you don't know what I'm talking about...check the sites out anyway. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll spork. Most important, you'll realize "Twlight" had nothing on the 80's for professional Mary Sues. Tragic orphans! Terrible accidents! Murder, even! Ghosts, werewolves, and vampires! And that's just the Sweet Valley series.

Perfect size six suburban twins with sparkling blonde hair! Perfect helpless heroines locked away in secret-and-spider-riddled garrets! With sparkling blonde hair! Many, many lovingly described outfits and other material details, which were of course in no way why I read the things in the first place. And of course, a whole shitload of men, some of whom are teh sexxy and buy pretty things before revealing themselves to be as bastard-y as all the others, not that there is ever any other ultimate goal besides landing one.


******

Edited to update:

A conversation elsewhere got me thinking more seriously about this essay by Joanna Russ in To Write Like A Woman on the modern Gothic, "Somebody's Trying To Kill Me And I Think It's My Husband." It's basically second-wave feminist analysis applied to lit crit, but she's by far one of the better ones out there.

More details and quotage shortly, but essentially her point is that in the Gothic the female "subject" position isn't really much of one; the protagonist doesn't really initiate plot, she stands there and things happen to/around her. Her main task is figuring out the "mystery" of what the hell is going on around her. Much of which involves figuring out other peoples' feelings
(especially the Man, natch).

It's interesting because her thesis not only fits the gothics she was writing about as well as the more sensationalistic VC Andrews books that probably came out after she wrote the essay, but also applies to True Blood and of course Twilight, no doubt among other contemporary hits.

As far as that goes, I was snarking when I first noted that the Sweet Valley Books, once they started not just jumping the shark but doing trapeze acts with it, eventually have all the elements associated with more standard "gothic" books like the VC Andrews books, but actually, it's not that dissimilar. There *is* no real action in SVH as such-the girls don't really *go* anywhere, despite having cunning plots to defeat rivals and hook boys and career aspirations and such-they stay forever frozen at a perfect age, and they don't ever really set anything in motion. So in order to be "exciting" it has to get soapier and soapier...

I had figured that the reason for this in the SVH books was more because having them actually change and grow would defeat the magic fantasy stasis of Perfect Teen Suburbia, but actually the Mary Sue-ism isn't at all unrelated to that fetish. I mean, it's specifically a woman's fantasy Perfect Teen Suburbia (Francine Pascal, more or less, via her many ghostwriters), a retro one, I mean. So the "waiting for something exciting to happen, which will almost certainly come from a Man" is probably kind of implicit in that.

Anyway, here's Russ in her own words:

The Modern Gothic is episodic; the heroine does nothing except worry; any necessary detective work is done by other persons, often the Super- Male. Whenever the Heroine acts...she bungles things badly. [Hi, Bella!] There is a period of terror, repeated sinister incidents, ominous dialogue spoken by various characters, and then the sudden revelation of who's who and what's what. In terms of ordinary pulp technique, these novels are formless. Even so, they obey extraordinarily rigid rules. There must be a reason for these rules.

I would propose that the Modern Gothics are a direct expression of the traditional feminine situation (at least a middle-class [white] feminine situation) and that they provide precisely the kind of escape reading a middle-class believer in the feminine mystique needs, without involving elements that either go beyond the feminine mystique or would be considered immoral in its terms.

...and here she puts a finger on the Mary Sue phenomenon in all but name:

Most striking about these novels is the combination of intrigue, crime and danger with the Heroine's complete passivity. Unconscious foci of intrigue, passion, and crime, these young women (none of whom are over thirty) wander through all sorts of threatening forces of which they are intuitively, but never intellectually, aware. Most of all, *they are of extraordinary interest to everyone*-even though they are ill educated, ordinary, characterless and usually very hazily
delineated (as one might suspect) as a stand-in for the reader.

Sometimes Heroines are very beautiful (although they don't know it) or heiresses (which they don't know, either) or possess some piece of information about the Secret (which they are incapable of interpreting). Their connection with the action of the novel is always passive; they are focal points for tremendous emotion, and sometimes tremendous struggle, simply because they exist...

In the face of this really extraordinary passivity-for if the protagonist of a novel is not active in some way, what on earth is the
novel about?-it is tempting to see these books as genuine family romances, with the Heroine as the child who is trying desperately to figure out what the grownups are up to...At their best Heroines merely stand (passively) for love, goodness, redemption, and innocence. They are special and precious because they are Heroines. And that is that."

This becomes a lot more evident with VC Andrews, who made the "family romance" part way more explicit than any of the earlier goffics Russ was examining.

As per the Mary Sueism, passivity and all, I think that's what had irritated me so much about True Blood, more so in the first season. Sookie is a *classic* of the type. And she only gets more special and precious and besotting of others as it goes on.

BTVS, whatever its flaws, was satisfying because it explicitly *doesn't* do this: Buffy really is a true protagonist, a Hero with a journey, not just someone who radiates goodness while all the fighting takes place all around her.

That said, I'm digging True Blood more in its second season probably precisely because there's so much more focus on all the subplots and secondary characters, most of whom have a more interesting "story" imo than Sookie.

So Russ concludes:

"The Modern Gothic, as a genre, is a means of enabling a conventionally Heroine to have adventures at all. It may also be a way that conventionally feminine readers can see their own situation...validated, justified, and glamorized up to the hilt, without turning Heroines into active persons or into sexually adventurous persons, both of whom violate the morality of conventional femininity.,

[It'd be interesting to see her take on the later Judith Krantz and such genre. wherein the Heroines do become much more sexually adventurous-within certain strictures-and nominally have careers, but a lot of this still applies. The "Lace" books as I recall them could be termed the Cosmo Gothic. More sex, more designer name dropping, the women become successful fashion designers or that sort of thing, and the rest is still pretty similar]

...

1. Housework, etc. is banned. I'm on holiday.

2. I'm upper-middle class, not lower-middle class.

3. My upward mobility is achieved through marriage.

4. I'm a good girl-modest, not too pretty but quite pretty, not too rich but rich enough, womanly, loving, dependent, and somehow "average" (even though I am uniquely precious)

5. The Super-Male *really exists* (all evidence to the contrary)

6. He really loves me, even though I am not strikingly beautiful, brilliant, talented, famous, or rich. I do not see why he loves me, but he does. He may appear to treat me badly or brusquely; still, he loves me.

7. I do nothing. I do not have to do anything. Merely because I exist, violent emotions and acts spring into being.

8. I am rewarded for being good. Aggressively sexual, beautiful, worldly women are wicked and are punished accordingly. Men don't *really* like them.

9. I have intense emotional relations with places-houses, weather, nature. (Scenery-painting is often the best-written part of these books).

10. I have pretty, romantic clothes (but not sexy or flamboyant ones). Clothes really are very important.

11. *My sexual value is my personal value and is respected by all but villains and villainesses.* Men's desire is a testimony to my personal, individual worth. I have no character, interests, or achievements, but those who do come to a bad end (if female).

12. I am a virtuoso at interpreting faces and feelings. [Sookie in True Blood takes this one further by being actually *psychic.*] This ability is not "wasted" on the everyday drudgery of infants' needs or husbands' grumpiness-it is vital in saving my life and the happiness of all about me. (Even if I come to the wrong conclusions, my intense over-reading of everybody else's emotions is still justified).

13. If I don't know what's happening, that's all right: my man does.

14. I can't save myself, but my man will do it for me. [More often torqued these days, if not consistently; Sookie's killing Rene in self-defense has shades of Final Girl, but she still has the men running to her aid, the distraction helps enable her to defend herself, and they do outright rescue her on many other occasions]

15. Life with the Super-Male is *really satisfying.*

Sookeh! SOOKEH!!!...

annnd

*sparkle out*

Quote of the day, 12/9/09

Speaking of love, one problem that recurs more and more frequently these days, in books and plays and movies, is the inability of people to communicate with the people they love: husbands and wives who can't communicate, children who can't communicate with their parents, and so on. And the characters in these books and plays and so on, and in real life, I might add, spend hours bemoaning the fact that they can't communicate. I feel that if a person can't communicate, the very least he can do is to shut up.

—Tom Lehrer, That Was The Year That Was

"Sometimes...you just need to stand around in a massive gyroscope and this is one of those times."

(h/t Queen Emily)

"Having been purchased, Lady Gaga is on her way to The Rumpo Area wearing a frock with a polar bear hanging out of the back of it. You may laugh but we've all at one point or another been out in a bar or club and started walking out of the toilet with a bit of loo roll stuck to one of our shoes, and this is exactly the same except with a polar bear."

Oh if only wank were a fossil fuel

Indeed.

(h/t Ilyka)

"YOU'RE NOT LISTENNNNNNINNNNNNNNG!!!! I DON'T WANT IT NOW!"

It's the PRINCIPLE of the thing, and DON'T YOU FORGET IT, BUB.

Watching this about six times a day

Its simple profundity of obseration and commentary makes me weep.

and lest we forget:

The Internets IS Srs Bzns. As is Life, the Universe, and Everything. And where better to go for a healthy reminder of this Truth than the fanwank community. Maud bless us, every one.

p.s. my ponies hate you, too.

"But Doc, it feels so good when I stop."

Harold Bloom IS my sister!

From everything I've read, from the anecdotes that I've heard, from the fanvids I've watched, from the dreams I've had, especially those that involve my going back to school and/or losing teeth, Harold Bloom is an intellectual who cares deeply about maintaining standards. He is one of the few people in academia that has the courage to say that JK Rowling is cliched, and that is a message that benefits all writers, including JK Rowling, because it gives her something to strive for. It does not surprise me that there are many so-called writers unable to respect the integrity of their Structure. It does not surprise me that there are many academics who are unable to hear what Harold has to say when being against the decay of everything good and pure about the Canon and Civilization is called ""pompous" and "reactionary" and "chode-esque." When people who read Harry Potter can only defend themselves by saying "well, at least it's better than 'Twilight.'" When four out of five absinthe-addled penguins can write better than Stephanie Meyer with one flipper tied behind their backs. As if there is any logic in that. As if Twilight is "literature." As if penguins would even drink absinthe if it weren't for the international cartels flooding Antarctica with the stuff. It is saddening but not surprising.

Anyway, I think we've all had our say here. I am not interested in continuing this conversation. In fact, I'm not even interested in starting a conversation. I don't care to be "deconstructed" by the posties, thank you VERY much. This conversation is over. Over! LALALALALALALALALALALA ---beeeeeeeeep--

Sex With Ducks: The Music Video

"It's a feeling I can't name/When sex with ducks and gay marriage are one and the same..."

"Everyone in favor of dissolving the Gunderson marriage? Motion carried."

If only. If ONLY.






ETA: "Where are your goats?"

The RETURN of Engineers And Cats (Yodeling)!

You don't want to get left behind.

Orestes pursued by the Furries

(suddenly wishes she had the Photoshop skillz to similarly conceive a new take on "exeunt, pursued by a bear.")


h/t fastlad.

ETA: also thanks to fastlad, who really needs to update more often: wow, this DOES explain everything!

"'Dear American Blacks': Join The Republicans, It's For Your Own Good"

And this hurts me more than it hurts--oh, wait.

How Not To Win Friends And Influence People, I mean, I'm -pretty- sure, over at Redstate as documented (and linked, so I don't have to) by Alicublog:

Dear American Blacks:

Sometimes the very best act of friendship I could do is tell you that the person you think is your best friend actually works against you behind your back, laughing at you, mocking your hardships, secure in the knowledge that you need him too much to ever leave him.

Sometimes — no, actually always — the true friend is the one who tells you what you don’t want to hear. The one who does not indulge you, the one who will neither promise you nor give you candy and other bennies. Instead he tells you to sit down and eat your green beans and spinach — and if you want that nice car, then quit whining, get an education, earn a good job, and earn that nice car.

The really ironic thing is that the slick, good-time “friend” will tell you what a jerk your true friend is. And you will believe him. You will believe him, that is, until you grow up, or until your good-time friend sells you up the river so far that your life is wrecked, and your future is ruined. Your wisdom will have been gained at a steep price.

But your true friend will still be there. And eating your green beans, securing an education, and working hard are still the path to success.

American Blacks, the Democratic Party is that good-time, lying, back-stabbing excuse for a “friend”. The DC Voucher story is an illustration — hardly a unique story — of how Democrats continually seek to set you up as a permanent underclass, so that you’ll depend on them to throw you scraps and believe their lies, in order to secure your votes to keep them in power...

...So while the Democrats toss your children’s hopes and dreams aside, secure in the knowledge that you’ll always vote for them, remember that your true friend is still here.

I ask you to consider, why is it that you hate Republicans so much?

Republicans do not know how to approach you. Democrats and the Democrat-dominated press have misled you and stoked up your wrath to the point that you will not listen to us.

So I propose this: how about listening? How about listening to what Republicans have to say, instead of what the Democrats say we say? How about listening to what we have to say before booing us out of the building?

...Want the opportunity to escape poverty, crime, and poor schools? Then quit voting for the Democrats that put you there.
Tired of 15% unemployment in your areas? Then quit supporting the Democrats who raise taxes and force increase regulations on employers. [oh yeah, the Democrats call them the 'rich', but when was the last time a poor man gave you a job?]

Eat your green beans! Do the thing that frees you!

It’s tough love, but I assure you, friend, it’s love. That’s why we fought like hell to restore the DC School Vouchers. That’s why we fought like hell to lower taxes on businesses, so employers could hire more people and create more success for everybody.

We received not one ounce of gratitude from you, but we did it anyway. And we will continue to do what is right for America, for whites, for blacks, for Latinos, for Republicans, for Democrats, for today, and for the future.

Join us. Consider it, anyway.

yes, it's really real. Really.

I was going to say something snarky about someone having watched too many episodes of "boot camp for recalcitrant minors" on the talk shows, but then something stirred in my heart, and or/bowels, and I was moved to respond in like spirit.


Dear Republican Whites,

As a true friend, your only REAL friend, really, I must tell you that the only cure for the shrinkage you're currently suffering is to slam all of your various bits and extremities very hard in a car door, followed by a roll in coarse salt and a bath in a tub full of live herring and miniature crabs. You should achieve immediate growth, or at least swelling.

Consider it, anyway.

I realize I will receive not one ounce of gratitude for this heartfelt (and free! let it never be said that there is no such thing as a free lunch. although you -will- have to pay for the herring yourselves, I'm afraid) advice. But, I'm giving it anyway. Such is the overflowing bounty of my care and compassion. My poor misunderstood bleeding heart, it even bleeds for you. ESPECIALLY for you.

See, I don't hate Republican Whites. Black Americans don't hate Republican Whites. Democratic Whites don't hate Republican Whites. -No one- *hates* Republican Whites. That's where you've gotten us all wrong. We LOVE you. Deeply. And sincerely. Everyone loves Whites! And especially Republicans!! Seriously, how could anyone hate -you?- What would anyone ever do without you? Can't you feel the love, tonight?

Bless you, Republican Whites. BLESS YOU. And, thank you. For...you know. Everything.

Yours in Supply-Side Jesus,

Marie of Romania.

Okay, there's some kind of Universal Principle Of Something here, just can't quite name it yet.

Am belatedly zeroing in on the comments of a random troll Queen Emily had and was later mocking, because, well...look at this:

I really would rather be the loneliest person in the world than adapt my opinions (which you missed, by the way) in order to have friends. Fair weather friends, and those who demand compliance to some view before they will be "friends" are such a waste of time, wouldn't you agree? I'd rather have enemies than friends like that. At least with enemies, you know someone hates you. With friends who demand some adherence to a principle, you have no way of knowing where their loyalty and friendship lie. Such a lonely existence. Friends! Who cares if I do or don't? At least my friends aren't required to pass an ideological test!

I really would rather be the loneliest person in the world than adapt my opinions (which you missed, by the way).

Ayn Rand, is that you? Camille? Bueller? no, not that...

Dear Person(s): "adapting your opinions" is part of -life.- There's a fine line between "being true to oneself" and "being so ego-invested that the slightest hint of the gentlest disagreement threatens the entire fragile structure." Bless your heart.

It is an excellent distillation of the crucial ingredient in 90% of arguments (on the Internets and elsewhere) that have put these fine permanent dents in my forehead, though, so thank you.

Derailing for Dummies!!

It's So Easy! Just Add Assholery And Stir!

(found via helen-bop, dilettante, Ren Ev)

I had often pondered attempting something as erm multi-purpose as this. Closest I got was here, I think. This is way better.

My favorite bits:

You're Arguing With Opinions Not Fact

If you really want to excel as a Privileged Person® you need to learn to value data, statistics, research studies and empirical evidence above all things, but especially above Lived Experience©.

You can pretend you are oblivious to the fact most studies have been carried out by Privileged People® and therefore carry inherent biases, and insist that the Marginalised Person™ produce “Evidence” of what they‘re claiming.

Their Lived Experience© does not count as evidence, for it is subjective and therefore worthless.

and

A In B Situation Is Not Equivalent To X In Y Situation

Your Marginalised Person™ may put in a last-ditch effort to be patient and reasonable by using an analogy. If you are yourself a member of a Marginalised Community™ exercising privilege over the group you’re arguing with, the Marginalised Person™ may use an example of discrimination towards your community and how there are parallels in discrimination towards theirs. This will be to try and appeal to your basic humanity and provide you with an experience you can relate to, hoping you will use that relation to apply compassion.

Don’t worry! You can still get out of this one!

Simply become indignant and be very sure to emphasise that your experience is absolutely and one hundred per cent unique and there are no similarities whatsoever between the two situations. Be sure that you are very derisive of their experience, thereby indicating you believe it unworthy of consideration. You must also behave insulted, so as to indicate their issues are so worthless that it's deeply offensive your own would be compared to them!

Of course, the Marginalised Person™ was not trying to equate the two, simply trying to provide grounds for commonality. It’s very important not to give an inch, however, so feign utter ignorance of this at all costs.

Remember: you want them to feel they really are less than human. It weakens their position and that’s important if you want to win.

and

You Have A False Consciousness

In conversation, there are few things as degrading, enraging and hurtful than to tell someone their experiences are false, or that their perception of them is.

The idea behind this one is usually that oppressed people are simply too oppressed to know they’re oppressed and therefore Privileged People® have to share their wisdom and insight with them.

This one crops up a lot in issues that affect women: women who enjoy dressing in conventionally feminine ways (they’re engrained in the patriarchal construct of femininity and therefore are incapable of making a choice), women who are kinky, regardless of the gender of the person they play with (they’re engrained in the patriarchal construct of gender roles and therefore are incapable of making a choice) and sex workers who claim to enjoy their work and/or practice it with autonomy (they’re engrained in the patriarchal construct of female sexuality and therefore are incapable of making a choice).

But this also affects People with Disabilities who are routinely told they simply don’t understand what is best for them and need a Privileged Person® to make decisions for them. People with Disabilities are not able to make any decisions for their own protection. Remember to stress that: it’s for your own protection.

With the trans community, you must routinely deny their gender identity by equating their experiences as having happened to someone of the gender they were designated at birth. For example, denying the reality of gender dysmorphia means you can tell a trans woman her childhood experiences happened to a little boy, because that's how she was being raised, and so communicate your belief her reality as a little girl was false, thoroughly undermining it.

In arguments about race, it takes a slightly different form, generally in white people telling People of Colour that they’re “seeing race where none exists”. You, on the other hand, are “colour blind” and we live in “post-racial” times. It’s them who are making everything about race and their experience of racism in their daily lives is simply imagined. If only they could let it go, the whole world would live in post-racial harmony!

You really want to ignore any claims the Marginalised Person™ may make about having done thorough research, deconstructing and unpacking of these issues. You also really want to deny their autonomy. There are few things so infuriating as infantilising an adult and telling them they’re delusional about their own reality. But they need to understand that, no matter what, you know better.

random general thinky thoughts about conflict and school and spirituality and life and shit

So, I'm reading these books on conflict resolution, one entitled "The Leader as Martial Artist" (look, Maw, I'm a Badass Ninja! (TM) (et seq), you're a ninja, he's a ninja, she's a ninja, wouldn't cha like to be a ninja too...)

...which is very much in line with the sort of schooling I'm getting right now, trying to wed the personal ("innerwork") with the political ("worldwork") and the spiritual/metaphysical (he speaks of "timespirits" as a concept, which sounds pretentious until you realize o yeah it's just the translation of "zeitgeist," I guess that works),

...and doing the work at school, and it's all very nice, and i think i'm like getting all evolved and shit, you know.

and so then I'm talking on the phone to the best friend, and he's betching about his asshole boss, and I was all, "You should just, like, kill her."

and then I was all, y'know, at the same time I'm theoretically and - hopefully- practically learning to be this more wise and compassionate etc. etc. etc.? increasingly and more quickly I find myself coming to the conclusion in various given dwamas:

"Fuck, no, I don't want to deal with that bullshit. Where's my brick?"

OI LOVE MOI BRICK!!!1!!

"Maybe we're seeing another side to belledame. A more caring, considerate--" *thunk*

"AHHH, FECK IT!!"

More good advice

Trollspotting: a book-length guide

No direct link, you have to click on "Trollspotting" once there. Geared toward neopagans but fun for the whole family. (h/t Sunflower)

"Well, the troll started demanding food from everyone in the village. Trolls are very hungry creatures, you know. So, we all started feeding the troll."

"Couldn't Mr. and Mrs. Mayor keep up with its appetite?"

"Not after a while, no. The troll always complained that they never gave it enough food. They were always starving the poor thing!"

"You just said trolls are very hungry creatures. Do you imagine anyone could have kept up with the appetite of this troll? All by themselves?"

"Ummm... Probably not."

"So the troll's complaints were blatantly unfair. Just like with the sunglasses, and the bath."

The sheriff looked uncomfortable. "I guess so."

"Kind of a lie, you think?"

"Well, the troll explained how reality is subjective anyway, and it felt like they were starving it."

"I see. What did Mr. and Mrs. Mayor say about the complaints?"

"Uhm, well, the troll asked us to keep the complaints quiet. Afraid of beatings, you know. And then, next election, we got us a new mayor. One who wouldn't be so mean. You know?"

Jack sighed. "Doesn't seem quite fair. You got rid of the Mayor, on the word of a troll whose tales just don't add up, and you never even bothered to check those stories out with the Mayor or his wife. Sad case. So, whatever happened to them?"

"Well, after a while, uhm, the troll, uhm, well, sort of ate them."

"Ate them?"

"Uhm, yes. Ate them. Mr. and Mrs. Mayor. Both."

"I see. Did you get rid of the troll after that?"

"Certainly not! It was so cute! And besides, can you blame it, after the way they'd treated the poor thing? No, it moved in with Old Isobel."

"Why in the world would Old Isobel let a person-eating troll move in with her?"

"The troll explained that no one has the right to impose their system of ethics upon anyone else."

"I see. How did Old Isobel get along with the troll?"

"Pretty well. Uhm. Until it ate her."