Moment of Joy

I stumbled across this randomly today, and it made me smile. For that reason alone I think it's worth sharing with others. Be a happy bird! Find your french fry!

Now this is culture!

I recently downloaded all of Shakespeare's sonnets from the Listening Library for free! So obviously I am revisiting my glory days of Shakespeare plays and Ms. Czekaj's class, thinking about the annual "I Love My Willy... Shakespeare" performance.

Who says grad students have no class?

Can I live here?

 Anyone who's read this blog knows I am... reluctant at best to grow up. So the City of Isahaya is particularly alluring to me. I don't speak the language, have no friends or family there, and I'd have no where to live.

But look at this bus stop!

I mean how cute is this little strawberry hut? It's enough to make me admire public transportation. Even better? The city has a whole bunch of adorable fruit huts on bus routes all over the city. Check them out here to see all of the designs...

In a (word?)... SQUEE!

Project Hera: On Hold

Darn, and just when I was really getting into it, too! I'm sorry to say that Project Hera has been postponed for at least a few weeks, but at least with good cause.

It turns out that Weasel needed the book more than I do. As we pack her and her spinning wheel off to college, she's really worried that she won't make friends, won't fit in, isn't attractive... all fears I can debunk in about half a second, but let's face it: hearing it and believing it are totally separate things.

As much as I want to just sit Weasel down and tell her that in college there are no popular kids, and the people who were losers in high school meet all the other losers from high school and suddenly no one is a loser anymore and you have friends who know and love you. Hey, I met Super Boy the first day of college, so anything is possible!

But Weasel needs to learn all of this for herself. And I want her to feel as confident and self-assured as possible, so my copy of Seven Days to Sex Appeal is now (temporarily) in her hands. What does she hope to gain from it? Well, that's her business, but I get the feeling that, like me sadly, she just needs a boost in her assertiveness, self-confidence and just become more aware of herself in general.

So go forth and learn Weasel, and who knows? Maybe you can teach me a thing or two!

Go, Grandpa, Go!

The human spirit is an incredible thing. It survives and thrives through unimaginable horror, and yet in life you often see glimpses of triumph in tragedy. If you think  I am getting a little melodramatic, take a look at this video.

That sweet old man dancing to Gloria Gaynor with his grown grand-kids survived the Holocaust, and not only did he survive, he had a family who, many years later, joined him in a trip across Europe to visit camps and memorials.

And they danced.

Some critics have called this video offensive and disrespectful to the memory of these places. I disagree. In fact, I think this is a heartfelt, beautiful tribute to the joy of life, the power of faith and love, and the unconquerable human spirit...

"You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed 

my sackcloth and clothed me with joy..."   

Psalms, 30:11

Project Hera: Day 1

I have dubbed my experiment in assertiveness and gender signals "Project Hera." If haven't brushed up on your Greek mythology recently,  Hera was the wife of Zeus, the king of the gods, and had a reputation for both beauty and her temper. Unlike Aphrodite, the beautiful but vapid goddess of love, Hera was both beautiful and strong willed. Case in point: she had a history of turning her husbands many mistresses into farm animals to prove a point.

Not there's a lady to admire...

Anyway, today's adventures in sex appeal and confidence focused on something I am already very conscious of  and working hard to improve: my posture.

I slouched a lot as a kid because I was taller than most girls and I wanted to fit it, and now my bad habit, combined with a curvy figure, ends up making my look about 15 lbs heavier than I really am. So after reading the first chapter I put the lessons into practice... at the local Sam's Club.

Well, it could be worse...

What did I learn? Standing up straight, chin parallel to the floor with the pelvis forward (to make your bottom perky and tummy flat) is a lot harder than it sounds. I also felt very self conscious, as if curling my spine over myself makes me invisible somehow (hmmm... insightful, no?). It did, however, help me in some respects. Salespeople noticed me quicker than usual, and they were more willing to help me.

So today's results indicate that they way I carry myself might actually help to make favorable first impressions. It will take practice, however, until I am comfortable applying these techniques.

More adventures to come...

Note: there are also lessons in the first chapter on how different sitting positions can be sexy, assertive, feminines, etc... but it was way too complicated as far as I'm concerned. Maybe I'll revisit it later.

Because I am not sexy...

I have a confession to make: I am not hot. I am not particularly thin, my face is not particularly beautiful, and I don't know what to do with hair and clothing. Yes, I do have clinically diagnosed body dysmorphic disorder, but regardless, I am still convinced that, although I am told I am pretty, I do not see myself in that way and I do not think I attract positive attention.

It also doesn't help that I have low self-esteem or confidence.

In an effort to make me feel better about myself, Super Boy recommended  I buy this book, not so much as to be "sexier" but more assertive and confident in social situations, which, if you are a habitual reader, you know I am not.

So this is my seven day experiment: I will practice one of the lessons every few days and report my findings. If nothing else, this could be a fascinating read on the power of body language...

Moment of Joy

I don't know how I feel about this new pop culture fashion trend, but the UK's Daily Mail had a whole spread on dog dyeing. Retrievers become tigers. Chows become pandas. Pomeranian become... smaller pandas.

Hope you enjoy, because I'm not sure if these pups do...

Don't mess with my magic...

It's hard to believe but it's already been one month since Super Boy and I hopped on a plane and went to Disney. Everyone one who went, from (the now slightly more likable) Gavone to my sisters Lady Diva and Weasel, from my mom and dad to my cousin, Opossum, and Aunt Squeak, everyone still raves about how much fun it was, how incredible the adventures, and how soon we must return.

In fact, it was a frequent topic of discussion this weekend when we were all reassembled at my parents home for a family weekend celebrating Weasel's graduation. And in between looking at pictures (again and again) and reliving our glory days in the sun, we also had some rather philosophical discussions on propriety, manners, and what is appropriate when in public.

The conversation centered on the final day we spent in Disney, spent mostly in the Magic Kingdom. It was the appointed "Gay Day" at the park; LGBTQ individuals, family and groups  had spent the week in the surrounding area outside the park and help events in Disney and elsewhere, a sort of meet and greet vacation. That day it was a trip to the Magic Kingdom they planned, and thousands of people in red shirts (the color of the day, I assume, there's no other explanation) poured off the monorail and into the park.

Other than the increased crowd, it usually wouldn't have bothered my family in the least. When you live in a family like mine, you tend to have a very relaxed "live and let live" mentality about these kinds of things. It would even be worth mentioning if it hadn't been for the shirts.

Those red shirts. Some of them have really cute saying on them, like "I believe in fairies!" But others were, if not offensive, then at least incredibly inappropriate in a children and family friendly environment. Some said things like "Fag" and "Hag," which would be difficult to explain to a child, but others were outright and blatantly sexual, like "Single: form line in rear" and "Big Bear Boy" (not explaining that one, look it up yourself).

 Here's the issue: Your business is your business, but when you are out in public, especially at a place like Disney, which is specifically designed for children and families, you need to keep in mind what's appropriate for the situation. Night club? Wear the leather chaps. Disney? Stick to the glittery fairy wings and magic wands.

My biggest hang up about all this? I wish I had wings like that...

Words of wisdom...

As you go throughout life, remember that you'll have good days, you'll have bad days, and in the end things will probably be okay.

And some days you get the be the raptor, and others you're just the cheerleader...

Enjoy!

War is not a game...

Super Boy and I had an argument last night, over something many might consider petty. It was about video games, which Super Boy has been exposed to from a young age and enjoys playing in moderation. I, on the other hand, never owned a video game until this year when Super Boy and I bought a Wii, and I don't necessarily see what the allure is. To make matters worse, we don't see eye-to-eye on what games we want in our home, specifically one called "Call of Duty 3."

This video game puts the player in the middle of WWII, sending them on missions with weapons and comrades and enemies and lots and lots of blood.  Unlike many anti-video game people, it's not the blood and violence of the video game I object to, but rather the subject matter: how can people profit off one of the bloodiest wars in human history? Why is WWII reduced to a video game?

And why are we as a society okay with this?

 War is often treated as something remote and sterile in video games, making it more fantasy and fiction than a harsh reality. In addition to treating war as a game, society uses days set aside for remembering veterans and offering thanks as excuses for shopping. Memorial Day? Veteran's Day? They are now more about retail than remembering.

Think about it: would we treat 9/11 in this way? Would our culture look at these video games the same way if you could play the first-person role of a terrorist, or a passenger on Flight 93? Would we be okay if  retail stores offer 9.11% off all patio furniture for three days only? If these suggestions offend you, good. They offend me, too. And the treatment of WWII or any war as a source of entertainment or commerce is no different. I think we need to get our priorities straight.

And, perhaps most important of all, you can't restart the game if you are killed in a real war, and nobody throws a sale in your honor.

Moment of Joy

The day is near! It might seem silly or juvenile, but for my family Disney World truly is the happiest place on earth. And this Saturday we are on our way...

Super Boy and I are particularly  excited to go; it's not just a vacation to us. It's not just pop culture and cartoon characters. It's more than just hanging by a pool or going on rides. To us, it's symbolic in a way, as ridiculous as it may seem. It's about our families, and happiness, and laughing. It's about silliness, pure joy, and leaving stress and worries behind, if only for a few days.

For us, Disney brings together all of the best things of life...

So while we pack, beg our friends for rides to and from the airport, and checking and double checking our flight status, we keep one things in mind: we're going to the happiest place on earth, and for a few days, all the world is right!

Not many days left...

The Boss blew it…

Dear Mr. Bruce "The Boss" Springsteen,

So… what was the deal Friday night? Seriously… what happened? This was supposed to be an epic show, you know? We were shutting down the Meadowlands, this was the last night at Giants Stadium. You ever wrote a song about it! You know, "Wrecking Ball?" But, wow, what a letdown. No encore? Really?

Okay, yes, I looked at the set list online and you did play all the songs labeled "encore," but it's not an encore it your don't leave the stage and then come back. Then it's just… well, it's just more concert. Even Supre Boy was pretty disappointed, and he was beside himself with excitment for this concert. Don't get me wrong. "Born to Run?" Epic. I sang, I danced, I cried a little. Same with "Born in the USA," "Badlands"… awesome. But no encore? You just left us standing there, asking each other, "Was that it? Should we go? He's coming back, right?"

But you didn't!

I might be able to forgive all this if you hadn't left out three of my favorite songs. No "Rosalita," no "10^th Avenue Freeze Out," and no "Thunder Road." I love "Thunder Road!" Skipping that song was sacrilegious. Hearing that song live was the main reason I came to see you. And you blew it!

Look, you couldn't help that Bon Jovi never showed, although that would have been mind-blowing. But to leave the stadium for the last time on such an anticlimactic note… this should have been huge. This should have been the night you pull out all the stops and bring down house without the damn wrecking ball! And you end with a love song? Yeah, okay, a love song about Jersey girls, but… really? Who ends with a ballad?

No huge encore of "Born to Run?" Nothing extraordinary? I mean, hey, if this was a regular show I'd still be surprised, but ok with it, but this night… of all nights, this should have been the big one. And it just wasn't.

The rest of the night falling apart wasn't your fault. The brawl with the angry fans and security, the swarm of state troopers, the descending K-9 unit, the delayed trains and waiting in the pouring rain… that just pulled the night into a major tailspin.

All the people in the world, you should have known what that night mean to everyone there, and how special it could have been.

I'm sorry it just didn't happen.

Love,

One of your most (disgruntled) faithful fans

Llonely Llama Lluckily Lled Llower by Lloving Llady

You hear about lost dogs and cats all the time, see flyers posted around town with a picture and a phone number, begging anyone with information to bring Fido home. But what happens when a lost pet has no one looking for it? And what if that pet is a llama? Meet Homer, the llama who's had one heck of an "odyssey" in Colorado (witty, no)? It turns out that this llama has been wandering around Pike's Peak for over a month, living off the local vegetation and trying to make friends like bighorn sheep. But the folks who spotted this little guy worried that he might be attacked by mountain lions, coyotes or succumb to the upcoming winter. Lucky for him, a nice lady, her friend and their llamas went looking for Homer, who happily joined their little group and left the mountainside.

While this may seem like a fluffy feel good story, it actually highlights a little know and often ignored problem in our society. Every year, thousands of animals are discarded by their owners, most commonly because their owners do not know how to properly care for them and become overwhelmed. Go to any animal shelter and see the adorable kittens that grew up to be not-so-cute cats, the puppies that grew into much-too-big mutts, and the bunnies that graced Easter baskets and now just take up space. And these smaller animals are not the only victims. In rural areas (parts of Texas and New York State in particular come to mine) there is an epidemic of livestock abandonment. Horses are turned out to pasture and ignored, cows left in barn stalls with ankle deep manure, and sheep and llamas left to fend for themselves. Sheep and llamas are increasingly in this predicament, as their wool is highly prized for yarn (as a knitter, I can tell you good yarn is not cheap). Inexperienced owners buy these animals looking to make a quick profit, and quickly realize they are in for more than they bargained for.

When people take on any animal without understanding its needs that animal is doomed to suffer, and without people intervening on the animals' behalves, many will die from neglect. This doesn't have to happen. Before you adopt or buy any kind of pet, research it, find out what it needs to live a healthy life, and find out what kind of care it will need over its lifespan. Understand that you are taking on a life to care for; you would take a sick child to the doctor, why is your pet any different?

But Homer is one of the lucky ones. Not only did some very dedicated people search for him, they are working to find him a loving forever home. Now that is a happy ending.

For more on Homer the llama, follow this link: http://www.optimum.net/News/AP/Article?articleId=619278&categoryId=66

For more on animal rescue, click here: http://www.aspca.org/

And as for the title of this post…I had to do it. As corny as it is, it had to happen. Sorry. 

Role Models and Pole Dancers: the Miley Cyrus Dilemma

I would love to say that I am above this petty nonsense, but considering Super Boy has a 13 year-old sister, I know more about Miley Cyrus than I ever wanted to stomach. But she's everywhere, this happy, peppy, Disney manufactured icon; she's got her own clothing lines, toys, music, movies, even snack food. While I have my reasons for not liking her (she's got a voice like a choking mule), I can't say much. The future daughter- and sister-in-law is a very delicate position. And she's promoted as sweet, innocent and wholesome, but there is a darker side lurking. This seems to be a pattern that repeats itself every few years. Look at Britney Spears and Lindsay Lohan. One day they are kid friend, and the next they are shaving their heads, drunk driving and flashing their genitals. And now Miley is jumping on their bandwagon, taking topless photos for magazines, flipping the bird and pole dancing at a kid's award show. Classy.

So if this is the kind of role model we are setting forth as appropriate for tweens, what messages are we sending? That it's ok for a 16 year-old to pole dance? Giving the finger is an ok way to express yourself? Taking topless photos and lying seductively across your dad is normative behavior? Gender stereotypes abound! We are teaching young girls at a formative point in their lives that the media is a reliable and appropriate place to get their system of morals, ethics and beliefs. The media has been linked to many different issues facing young girls and women ranging from anorexia and to poor self-esteem and body image. And Miley Cyrus is the role model we are shoving down their throats. Is it any wonder that what is considered "normative" is actually so harmful?

What girls need are role models who offer something substantial; people with brains, creativity, bravery, strength, and yes, maybe even beauty too, but not the stereotypical, prepackaged beauty Hollywood spits out. Girls need to want to be themselves, not some hyped-up teen drama queen. So how do we do this? Well, it starts with parents and guardians being the bad guys and saying no, I don't think that Hannah/Miley/Uber Skank is a good role model. And then you have to explain why. Talk to your kids about the toys they play with, the music they listen to and the movies they watch. Talk to them about what these things teach, and try to explain what fantasy is and how real life is different. Give them honest, realistic values to live by, not those that come with a brand name.

As for Miley herself, I can't wait to watch this pop princess crash and burn. I give her two years until she's snorting lines of coke off of some guy's chest. 

Again, a failure of justice…

So the Lockerbie Bomber has been set free, all in the name of compassion. The Scottish courts say that the former Libyan intelligence officer is dying of prostate cancer, and with Ramadan approaching it would be a great show of mercy is they released him on compassionate grounds. Which I find incredibly ironic. Here is a man with absolutely no compassion and an absolute contempt for the sanctity of life… and the courts think that he deserves the mercy he'd never show to others. Now I hesitate to say that Hammurabi and his theory of "an eye for an eye" is really applicable in today's society… but should a punishment reflect the crime committed and the intent behind it? There are times to show mercy, and then there are times to recognize that the man is a terrorist who blew up a plane and the fact that he's dying a slow and painful death is probably divine justice.

Of course, there is always the argument that it is takes a bigger person to forgive those that do wrong to them, and many British don't think he's guilty in the first place (which I think is ridiculous, seeing as the Libyan government actually accepted responsibility and paid the families compensation). Even some of the victims' families, such as the British Rev. John Mosey, whose daughter Helga, 19, died in the attack, said Wednesday he would be glad to see al-Megrahi return home."It is right he should go home to die in dignity with his family. I believe it is our Christian duty to show mercy," he said. But forgiving someone shouldn't let them off the hook (and to be honest, the Scots can hold a grudge with the best of them).

Compassion maybe be a noble sentiment, but it doesn't translate well across cultures. In the West forgiveness and mercy is a great virtue; in Libya, this gesture will be seen as a great weakness and Abdel Baset al-Megrahi will be welcomed home as a hero regardless of very stern warnings from the US and Britain. The Libyans, and likely very many others across the world, will give lip service to the wishes of the West, note the very conspicuous silence from the Libyan government on the matter for fear of reprisal and losing their tenuous position as an up-and-coming nation. The government knows this issue requires extremely careful handling. But behind their hands they laugh. Petals are strewn before al-Megrahi's feet, flags waved in celebration and crowds flack to welcome him home in triumph.

And what about the other victims' families? Many of the passengers were Americans, and their loved ones aren't inclined to show compassion. "I'm totally against it. He murdered 270 people," said Paul Halsch of Perinton, New York, who lost his 31-year-old wife in the attack. "This might sound crude or blunt, but I want him returned from Scotland the same way my wife Lorraine was ... and that would be in a box."

Regardless of what the courts think "just," the question of what is "fair" remains. And we must ask ourselves how and when mercy and compassion can play a role in the criminal justice system, especially in cases of such extreme hate and cruelty.

For more from the AP News story, visit the below link.
http://www.optimum.net/News/AP/Article?articleId=599375&categoryId=22.

The difference between what’s just and what’s fair

When you are living in a city that is rabid about its sports teams, you tend to hear all the gossip almost as soon as it happens. Michael Vick signing with the Philadelphia Eagles is no different. I am not an Eagles fan (in fact, I loathe them, but that's another story), but even if I were I'd have to seriously reconsider my loyalties. After the dog fighting scandal and the overwhelming disgust shown by the American people as a result, you'd think he'd be a pariah in our society, and certainly not a hot pick for a football team. Apparently, I stand corrected.

Now there is justice, and then there is fairness. According to the courts system, "justice" has been served for Michael Vick. He was sentenced to prison, served his time and is now released back into society to become a productive citizen once more. Considering criminal justice and criminology are my fields of study, I would usually be one of the first people to recognize the logic of this system. But I don't feel like Vick's punishment even remotely reflects the crime. The animals on his Bad Newz Kennels were tortured. Many died, and others were so physically and psychologically traumatized they needed to be humanely put down. These dogs didn't get to spend their time being the big man on campus at some federal prison where he was most definitely deferred to as the local celebrity. I don't think Michael Vick ever had to worry about dropping the soap or getting shanked in the chow line. Let's face it: the bastard got off easy. But the courts think he's paid his debt to society and should be a free man once more. That is their interpretation of justice.

Now what would be fair? Well, these dogs didn't get preferential treatment when Vick was hanging the weakest of them for losing matches, or starving them to make them vicious fighters. Vick is out of prison, true. But she should never get to go back to his old life. The damage to these animals cannot be undone, and he should not be allowed to wipe his slate clean and pretend nothing ever happened. That is a mockery of what is right. It's just not fair. Does he deserve to make a living? Of course he does. The stigma of a conviction should not be an insurmountable barrier for anyone. But should he get to play professional football, certainly not a right but a rare privilege, and make millions? Absolutely not. He should certainly get a job. Maybe he can flip burgers, stock shelves or clean up dog parks.

So who wins in the end? Surprisingly, it's the dogs. Through incredible amounts of patience, handwork and unwavering love, many of these dogs have found families and loving homes. In fact, some have become ambassadors for the pit bull breed, disproving the myth that they are natural born killers. If they are naturally born to do anything, it's probably snuggling. Look at Leo. This handsome guy with his colorful clown collar is covered in scars from his fighting days. But his new career? He's now a service dog, keeping chemo patients company during their treatments and showing them that anything is possible, no matter how bleak things may look. He is proof that in spite of cruelty, and in spite of Michael Vick, there is always a chance for another start. Now that is a good dog.

So to all the Eagles fans out there, keep on loving your team if you must, but if you love animals and human decency too, then maybe you should rethink your alliances.

I heard the news today…

So I am driving with my mom to the mall making small talk when suddenly the radio announcer says that Michael Jackson is dead. Farah Fawcett, too. Our jaws hit the dashboard. I for one am very sad to hear of Farah's passing. The woman battled her cancer with bravery and grace and I sincerely hope she is at peace. It is a very sad end to a very nice lady.

As for Whacko Jacko…

Well, I'm not heartless to say I'm glad he's dead, but really, this was only a matter of time. Living life constantly stoned and drunk? His strange fascination with small children (and it's sick and sexual, I still have no idea how he got off at that trial)? They say that he was discovered by his family this morning, his father attempted to resuscitate him and then they called for EMS. But here's the thing… when the EMTs and paramedics got there, he was cold. Contrary to popular belief, it takes a while for a body to get cold to the touch. The hospital is saying cardiac arrest. My person opinion? Cardiac arrest for certain, but almost certainly during the night from drugs. Your heart can only take so much abuse, after all.

Is there a silver lining to all his death?

Well, maybe some little children won't be molested.

Can you guess I was never a big fan?

Want more? Come and get it!

This is not my first foray into the blogging world. In fact, I kept a blog for several months as part of a gender and pop culture class a while ago. I hated it at the time (technologically savvy I am not). But after a few posts… I was hooked. Looking back, I think the class was a rewarding experience; you never realize how much pop culture messed with your mind until you really sit down and think about it. Scary stuff.

So… like intellectual critiques on the genderization of children? Think Barbie is a misogynist puppet used to destroy self esteem? Wonder why models and celebrities can be so screwed up and still be so popular?

Then come and get your fill of thoughtful social commentary at "Barbie bashing and other varsity sports!"

http://genderandpopculture.blogspot.com/