Thursday, March 31, 2011

To Ad or Not to Ad?

If you click on my Blogger profile*, you'll see that I've been a "member" since 2002, making Blogger, the free blogging site that is home to Flâneur in the City, the one site that I have used consistently for the past 9 years. Nine. Years. That's practically immortality on the Internet. Blogger's the freakin' Highlander of my web history. No other site on the web has held my attention for that long, and despite the use of other social media websites over the years (MySpace, Facebook, etc.), I've always kept a blogspot blog in some form or another. In total, I've had about 13 blogs for various personal stages of my life, for html testing, for nonsense that needed to be told somehow, somewhere. FitC is the just the latest in a string of blogs, and for the past 3 years I've come to this space to obsess over Bowie and feminism and the quiet details of life. FitC fits me, and I'm happy to have it be the most public blog I've ever owned.

Blogger is currently linked with Google and offers the option to "monetize" any blog with Google ads. AdSense is a fairly new program for a blogspot veteran like me; the easy option to monetize was not in place in the early incarnations of blogging. As I stare at the little tab that offers me pennies in exchange for ad placement, I must admit, it is tempting. Make money? From writing? What brave new world is this?

But I have concerns, of course. Will it distract readers? Will the program just pick up keywords in my blog and run ads with those words? If that's the case, is there a risk of ads running that are against what this blog is about? (For example: If I write a criticism of a pop-star, like Katy Perry, will the ads be for her new album? That seems fairly ... well, ironic, in the Alanis Morissette sense, for lack of a better word.)

I've received an offer of ads before, from a third-party source, and declined. Since Google is connected through Blogger, I would like to believe it would be more manageable. What say you, my readers? Will you slam the door on me if I come to you with ads? Comments below, or if you so prefer, you can always send an email to flaneurinthecity@gmail.com. Or just send me good thoughts, and know that I won't do anything to make this space uncomfortable. I'm sending you, stranger and friend, good thoughts as well.


*There's not much to see on there. Find the little icon under Followers with my pic on it. Yes, I follow my own blog. But! Not for vanity -- I honestly wanted to know what it looked like on the Blogger dashboard reader before I set up the Follow Box on the sidebar. By the by! You can follow me through Google, AIM, Twitter, Yahoo -- whatever you prefer -- not just by Blogger. Clicking the Follow button will give you all the options. Also-also? You'll make me incredibly happy. Like, Bowie-in-tight-pants happy. Consider it.

Bowie Bulge should have gotten its own credit, assistant and trailer for Labyrinth.

Oh, Blogger!

I am spending waaaay too much time playing with the new Blogger template view feature, when I should actually be writing, you know, content for my blog.

Flipcard View of FitC. Pretty!
The new template views are available for public Blogger blogs that allow for full or jump-break feeds. Infinite scrolling, the newest trend in the blog world, is the highlight here. Clumsy html and template design can be avoiding by giving readers multiple options for viewing. All by adding a simple "view" to the end of the url.

Find FitC's here: http://flaneur-in-the-city.blogspot.com/view

Change the view by using the blue bar at the top of the screen.

Mosaic View

Screen shots away! 


Weekly Flâneur: Search

"Look Right" official sidewalk instruction in London. Click to enlarge.
In case you forget.
(Americans always need reminding.)
East London.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Overdue Follow-Up

(Previous coverage of this story can be found here and here. As always, Trigger Warnings for the discussion of rape, and victim blaming in the media.)

The New York Times finally published a follow-up story to the victim-blaming piece insinuating a young child was partly responsible for being raped by up to 19 men. The story comes almost three weeks after public outrage forced editor Arthur S. Brisbane to feebly admit the original Times story was, perhaps, lacking balance. To which the Internet replied, "Duh."

The Times did not, however, see it in their best interest to assign another journalist to the critical follow-up, and allowed biased writer James C. McKinley, Jr. to try to redeem himself. Fair enough. But as sources have pointed out, McKinley still throws bones to the ravenous victim-blamers and rape apologists (and I dare say we could count him among that blood-thirsty crowd) by letting racist and classist language "slip" into his descriptions. As pointed out by Shakesville, the use of subtle stereotypes (such as the young girl's Hispanic father sleeping in the afternoon) are a personal style that McKinley clings to. The story is also full of disturbing details that were missing in previous coverage. (So again, I urge caution in reading.) It may leave the reader wondering: Is this balance or over-compensation for victim-blaming?

To be fair, the delay in printing the story could have come from a judge issuing a gag order which prohibits those involved talking to the media. Active cases such as this can change, so it is the journalist's responsibility to keep up. The delay could also be part self-fulfilling prophecy; the Times created a media circus around an already troubled case that makes reporting new information difficult.

A troubling aside to this story is that the Times itself is changing: On March 28 they released a new paywall program for Internet accessibility. The paywall allows readers free access to 20 articles a month, but after that the reader must pay for a digital subscription. Has this story been delayed due to the changes being implemented? Will fewer readers see it because of the paywall? Only time and the Times will tell.

Sadly, there seems to be a bit of media fatigue on this story -- the only response seems to be let justice prevail. Three weeks is a long time to wait in the world of push-button publishing. I am late to this story, since it broke yesterday and I am writing about it late Wednesday afternoon. In journalism, and in blogging, timing is everything. If I wait until after 5:30 p.m. to hit publish, I'll lose half my readers as they leave work for the day. But I'm just one woman, with one keyboard, and a life to lead. The professionals at the New York Times should have a staff of editors, writers and interns to cover their bases. 

Media criticism of this whole debacle can serve as a case what NOT to do for current journalists and J-School students. But even that is a pale, minuscule silver lining in a horrific and tragic story that was mangled from day one. My thoughts are still with the little girl, and I can only pray she is being given the support she needs to work through this tragedy despite the failings of the community and the media.

Monday, March 28, 2011

Say What Now?

Taken in Charlotte, NC, third week of March, 2011.
Bumper Sticker:
"Dare to say NO to
Obama and Socialism!"

I don't even know what this means.

This car was kitty-corner to me at a stoplight this month and I grabbed this shot. I edited out the license plate, because even if the bumper sticker makes no sense, no one needs their plate plastered on the Internet.

But I still don't quite get the logic behind this Glen Beck-like slogan. Oh, wait. OK, let me rephrase that. Even if this Glen Beck-like spewing had any basis in logic, it still makes no sense. Dare to say no? Like, to drugs? (In the 80's, American grade school children were taught the useless slogan of, "Dare to Say No!" in an anti-drug campaign called DARE to Keep Kids off Drugs.) Does ... does Obama make you high? Can he make me high? Cause, I mean, I'll totally vote for that. There are even republicans and conservatives that are down for that. Change we can believe in? Getting high!

And the socialism part? I am aware that's the new buzz word used to get the willfully ignorant into a tizzy, but really? Do ya even understand how socialism works? If you are going to try to fit your opinions on a small rectangle on your monstrous SUV, why not make it easy and say, "I don't understand why I'm unhappy and it's easy to blame Obama because FOX News said so!"

Friday, March 25, 2011

Tit for Tat

Afternoon, my dears!

I wrote a guest post over at Bibliophiled Away, which should have been written a month ago, but there was much David Bowie in the world to distract me. Bibliophiled Away is run by Jamie, who wrote about love with the Jersey Shore crew (aka the Macaroni Rascals) for me back in February.

Jamie's blog is of the cute puppy and book variety, but I managed to sneak in some pro-Planned Parenthood and anti-Sarah Palin jabs. It wasn't hard, since I was writing about Teen Mom 2.

Check it out if you are so inclined, and stick around to see cute pictures of Jamie's puppy Ray.


Friday QuoteDay

“I hate how box office failures are blamed on an actress, yet I don’t see a box office failure blamed on men. I think a lot of the time in films, men get roles where they create their own destiny and women are just tools, supporters for that. I guess it’s because we live in a patriarchal society, where feminism is a dirty word.”
— Ellen Page

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Weekly Flâneur: Sneaky

Image: Made You Look spray-painted on white brick. Click to enlarge.
25 points, at least.
Street Art near Portobello Road Market, London.


A Typical FitC Post

  • Post picture of something sexist.

Example:


Witty caption goes here.

  • Commentary on how this shit pisses me off.

  • Make a joke to try to lighten the mood while still simmering with anger.

  • David Bowie. 

  • Lather, rinse, repeat.


Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Today in DAVID BOWIE

The bread-n-butter of my blog, BOWIE, has been sadly absence these past few weeks! Let's remedy that, shall we?

* A new live BOWIE album is being released in April. Grain of salt though: It's not Bowie-camp sanctioned. (Consider buying some of his classic stuff, if you don't own it all already.)

* If you cannot wait until April for newish BOWIE, an illegal! leaked! bootlegged! copy of an unreleased album from the early 2000's is online today. Ahem. Not that you would illegally download anything.

* BOWIE fan site FuckYeahDavidBowie posted this info today: How to get in contact with BOWIE. It's pointless to try to contact him this week though, because he'll probably be very busy filling out multiple restraining orders and changing the locks on his door. Not all is lost. I'm sure I can still slide love letters underneath the door. 

Probably while wearing this shirt.

Sorry, Mom.
Because nothing says, "OHMIGOSHILoveYouDavidBowie!" like a silk-screened image of your bulge on my boobs.

So This Happened

Artful Blogging Magazine, seen at Books-A-Million, Charlotte, NC.

Blogging about a magazine about blogging.

I am blogging about a magazine about blogging.

It's an ouroboros of media, my friends. Web media took away print media, so to save and capitalise on the competitive free content provided by blogs, a print magazine showcasing the very medium that killed print now exists. And I am writing about it on a blog. The next step would be to create a blog for Artful Blogging Magazine.

Yeah.

Monday, March 21, 2011

Visual Reminder


Rape is caused by:
- misogyny (check mark)
- rapists (check mark)
- institutional tolerance (check mark)
- structural violence (check mark)
not by women's clothes

(Found at forestfirecity.)

Friday, March 18, 2011

Friday QuoteDay

“Whatever the Bible says about homoerotic-sexual intimacy is folded within a very large Biblical conversation about sexuality and gender in general. And so to pull out a particular verse and say, ‘This solves our position on gay marriage’ is such a mistake, given that the Bible says a lot of things about sexuality and many of those things we would reject today.”

Pastor Jennifer Knust, via NPR Fresh Air (full interview at the link)

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Weekly Flâneur: Kiss Me Edition

Shamrock lamp. Click to enlarge.
Lucky Lamp
Dublin, Ireland

Bonus images from the land of  Éire after the jump!

Seriously?

(Trigger Warnings for discussion of rape and lack of human decency.)

You know what?

Before this month, if you had come to me and said, "Natalie, do you think that a horrible event that happened to a child could somehow continue to grow worse and worse to the point where even so-called liberal dudes were promoting rape culture?" No. Because what happened to the 11-year-old girl in Texas is horrible enough. Why would anyone, left or right-wing, add on to that?

After yellow journalist James C. McKinley, Jr.'s New York Times victim-blaming story, a half-assed apology from the Times, and growing racial tensions in Texas, a Florida House committee takes yet another blame-the-victim stance and includes the story in their reasoning to pass a "Sagging Pants" bill.

No, really.

Tampa Bay.com reports that the "Sagging Pants" bill supporter Rep. Kathleen Passidomo (R-Naples) had this to say:
"There was an article about an 11 year old girl who was gangraped in Texas by 18 young men because she was dressed like a 21-year-old prostitute," she said. "And her parents let her attend school like that. And I think it’s incumbent upon us to create some areas where students can be safe in school and show up in proper attire so what happened in Texas doesn’t happen to our students."
No one commented on that line of reasoning.
There's so much wrong with that statement that I don't even know where to begin. OK. Deep breath.
  1. Rape is NEVER the fault of a child. Ever. No exceptions.
  2. No matter HOW she was dressed.
  3. No matter WHO dressed her.
  4. Gang rape is AGAINST the law.
  5. It is AGAINST the law if the person is a 21-year-old prostitute as well.
  6. Dressing a certain way will NOT prevent someone from being raped.
  7. The only thing that can prevent rape is NOT being in the presence of a rapist.
  8. Placing the blame of the rape on the child's dress takes blame away from the rapists.
  9. How can anyone think that blaming a child for the horrific actions of grown men appropriate?
One source covering this story, Think Progress, has a recent update at the bottom of that states:
A reader informs ThinkProgress that when asked about her statement, Passidomo responded, "Thank you for your concern, I was not referring to my own opinion to the cause of the rape, but to the cause implied by a March 8th article of the New York Times."
Though I've certainly made a point of holding James C. McKinley accountable for writing a biased and victim-blaming article, I will not excuse Passidomo for her prior statement. McKinley's hack writing should not influence someone in a position of power, and I expect anyone in a government position to know better than to parrot such blathering.

Speaking of ThinkProgress, some of the comments underneath this story tried to prove that two wrongs make a right and called for the rape of Passidomo -- with "jokes" that she was too ugly to be raped. A few commenters protested, and the response was that the jabs were to prove how ridiculous Passidomo's statement actually was. But as I said in a comment on In Which Your Heart May Break -- rape is something that is so horrific that I would not wish it on anyone. These "jokes" add to the cultural idea that some rape is "deserved" and no one deserves that. And as I wrote above: The only thing that prevents rape is not being in the presence of a rapist. The attractiveness of a person has nothing to do with that, so calling Passidomo ugly is just a sexist insult. Rise above this level of insult.

I will repeat again: No one deserves to be raped. Even if they make statements like Passidomo did, even if they write articles like James McKinley did. Doing otherwise, even in jest, promotes the rape culture that allows words like Passidomo's and McKinley's to exist. Liberal or conservative, I certainly hope we can agree that no child deserves to go through what this 11-year-old went through. Rape jokes, blaming the victim for how she was dressed; these go hand-in-hand in allowing a culture of rape to thrive. If we can learn anything from this, it's that the choice of words matter.


Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Spot On


Damn those lady bloggers!

FitC's (Unofficial) Feminist Film Critic

On DVD this week: The Switch. Remember that bomb from last year? That insulting bomb that completely strips away the main character's physical autonomy, intelligence and right to choose what goes into her body? Yeah.

Matt Brunson has this to say:

THE SWITCH (2010). Deciding that Jeffrey Eugenides' short story would be perfect for expanding into a wacky comedy, this film's creators ran with the premise of Jennifer Aniston as a single woman who badly wants a baby. Aniston's Kassie opts to go the route of a sperm donor, despite the objections of her whiny best friend Wally (Jason Bateman). The donor is a hunky athlete (Patrick Wilson), but through circumstances too mind-numbingly stupid to detail here, a drunken Wally spills the filled baby-batter cup and replaces the lost content with his own seed. Will the dumb-as-a-brick Kassie ever learn that Wally made a switch? And did none of the filmmakers — or the movie's fans — realize that Wally's action of implanting his unwanted sperm into an unwilling woman qualifies as a form of sexual assault/rape? ...

Read the rest here, (under Excalibur and above The Times of Harvey Milk, both worth a read).

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Our New Role Model

Come for the Feminism and David Bowie, stay for the Fast Life and Dissipation!

Today in Sexism

Image of a woman on all fours, with an arched back and bottom in the air, looking through either a camera or binoculars.

What does this ad tell us?

Eye and Ass. Really, that's all. Blah, blah, blah, your online school program bullshit, but mostly, ass. Lady ass. In the air. On my Facebook page*. Assuming that I am the target demo (and I'm not, of course, being a person in possession of lady parts), does this company (no links, they do not deserve my traffic) think that this image will make me want to be a photographer? Because that's the image that really makes me want to drop another Sallie Mae student loan on a "photography program" and become a part of the glamorous lifestyle of having my ass in the air and my mid-drift exposed. Because it's not enough to be a photographer -- I would have to be a Sexy! Photographer.

No. This ad, appearing on my Facebook page about an hour ago, is implying that if you (the "you" of course means being a male ages 18-24 and on Facebook), want to be a photographer, you can eye lady ass all day long! All. Day. Long. And get paid for it!

Today's "FitC's Fuck You" is sponsored by Facebook, for sponsoring this bullshit.


*Screen grab has been edited to hide details and pictures of my friends and family. That is the only edit this image has been through.

A Collection of Beauties at the Height of Popularity

Amusements! Because it's not all doom and gloom at FitC. 

The Inception Button: Does this even have a name? It's a blank page with a red button in the middle. It makes a noise from Inception. It's hilarious. I may have to start selling counterfeit boxes of Girl Scout cookies to buy an iPhone so that I can carry around the Inception button to use in my everyday conversations and thoughts.
Paper or plastic? [Button]
I'll have a grande chai latte, please. [Button]
Naughty thoughts of Leo DiCaprio, Joseph Gordon-Levitt and I in a hot tub? [Button]
My hamburger phone is ringing. [Button]

The Victorian Period Game: (Music is played when you click the link, so turn your sound down if you're at work.) Hosted by The McCord Museum of Canadian History in Montreal, this sneaks-in-the-education game tests on how one would survive in social standing in the Victorian era. The game figures don't actually talk but make little blah-blah-blah noises in varying cadences, which amused me and my parents' dog. As for game play, I was a wanton slut in the train station section, but redeemed my social graces in the park. Much like in real life.

Fuck Yeah Awesome Houses: Real estate porn, basically. But worldly with a twist of fantasy. FYAH allows people like me to post the following picture and make bad jokes. Ready?


Looks like they're stuck between a rock and a hard place! (Groan. Told ya.)

Future U.S. History Students: 'It's Pretty Embarrassing How Long You Guys Took To Legalize Gay Marriage': This story from The Onion.  A snippet:
"Wow, that is nuts," said student Jeremy Golliver, who claimed he knew gay rights was a struggle "like, a hundred years ago" but didn't realize it lasted so long. "It's really embarrassing, when you think about it. Just the fact that people in this century were actually saying things like, 'No, gays should not be allowed to marry,' and were getting all up in arms about it, as if homosexuals weren't full citizens or something. It's insane."
(Funny stuff, but ugh for the eye-melting bright Paul ads. They weren't up yesterday when I bookmarked this. Fairly hideous, so be warned.)

The Left! Choose the Left Path!

I'm past 26 years of age, but I can assure you at that time I was rocking Fast Life and Dissipation. (Dissipation definition: dissolute way of living, especially excessive drinking of liquor; intemperance.) Yes.

Friday, March 11, 2011

Little Red 90210

Once upon a time, I went to an advance screening of Red Riding Hood. I came away with some thoughts. Some spoiler-free thoughts. Shall we?

On the looks: Red Riding Hood requires a suspension of belief in the grooming habits of (French? Russian?) medieval peasants. There are manicured nails, gelled-up hairdos, and people who look as if the lack of indoor plumbing wasn't an issue. But, this is cool with me, because I can suspend disbelief for the sake of a movie or TV show. After all, one of my favorite TV shows of all time is Xena: Warrior Princess.

Xena and Gabrielle had perfectly washed and shiny hair despite their home being the ancient equivalent of an RV (a horse) and sleeping outdoors under a perpetual full moon (EVERY episode). They somehow managed to discover Grecian waterproof mascara and fabrics that were never, ever stained despite being in bloody battle. And it's not that they didn't show the characters washing; "Xena and Gabs Bathe Together" was practically a requirement each season. All this, and no viable income. Through the course of the show Xena (no spoilers, only teasers!) becomes an angel, a demon, a vampire and the Hindu Goddess Kali, among other things. And I still loved and believed every minute of it.

All in a day's work for Xena.
If the series hadn't ended at Season 6, Xena would probably be a robot too. Luckily, the fans made that happen.


So the pretty, pretty looks of Little Red Shiny Hair didn't overly bother me. I mean, look at her! She's lovely, no?


The Plot: The story focuses on Bella Valerie, who is in lust love with the medieval answer to James Dean, Peter. Peter's hobbies include sulking, looking at Valerie with a bland expression that is meant to be smoldering, chopping wood, and love triangles. Val's parents arrange for her to marry richie-rich Henri, who also happens to be a young man of above-average looks and, coincidentally, has hobbies that include Valerie and love triangles.

That's not Robert Pattinson on the right. Seriously.

More Failure from The New York Times

(A warning: This post is a follow-up to yesterday's story on rape and violence. Trigger and sensitivity warnings apply.)

Further info on yesterday's In Which Your Heart May Break:

 The New York Times has offered an explanation of sorts to Tuesday's story under the understated headline, "Gang Rape Story Lacked Balance."

 Shakesville presents the passive response of  The New York Times' public editor Arthur S. Brisbane, and breaks down the myriad ways in which it fails. I encourage you to read the whole thing.

In brief, The New York Times, forced to say something in regard to the public outcry, admitted the story by James C. McKinley, Jr. (and yes, I will continue to write his full name in case he has a Google alert set up for it, so that he may see the full measure of his failed journalism) lacked a "critical balancing element." Ya think?

Let's look at a snippet of McKinley's language, shall we? Mr. B (who in full disclosure is an editor at a newspaper, obviously not the Times because he would not let this unconscionable drivel go to print), wrote me this on McKinley's language:
[McKinley writes:] "How could their young men have been drawn into such an act?" Not "How could their young men have committed such an act?" but "drawn into," as if they had no choice in the matter because some powerful unseen force was behind their odious action.
I will repeat that James McKinley needs to be held accountable for perpetuating such blatant victim blaming that has no place in a paper as influential as The New York Times. Such lack of journalistic integerity and flat-out human decency sicken me, both as a writer and as a human being.

In further upset, Jezebel reports that racial tensions are now playing out in the small Texas town, and encouraging the blame to be placed on the victim and her parents rather than the boys and men who committed this heinous crime.

I will post further updates when/if they become available.

Friday QuoteDay

“Attacking femaleness, deriding ‘girly stuff’ and rolling your eyes at ‘women’s issues,’ declaring yourself a ‘tomboy’ who gets along better with men because women are silly or pretty or whatever -- these are expressions of internalised sexism. If that’s the way you feel about your own sex you’ll be doomed to feel inferior no matter what you achieve in life.”

— Emily Maguire, Introduction to Female Chauvinist Pigs: Women and the Rise of Raunch Culture 2010 Edition.

It's like What Kind of F**kery is This? wrapped up in one paragraph!

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Something I Have Learned

3:14 P.M.

3:14 P.M. is the exact moment Starbucks turns into The Peach Pit/ The Max/ Central Perk.

It was a confusing time.

Prior to this, it's all grandmothers, stay-at-home moms meeting for chai tea, and solo writers like me quietly typing away on laptops.

Why is my local Starbucks the teen heaven? And, more importantly, why must I (a fairly patient and understanding young woman) turn into the emotional equivalent of a grizzled Clint Eastwood shaking my fists and screaming, "Get off my lawn!"?

Me.
Is it karma because I called out Katy Perry on her stupid teenage dream song? You -- children in your Bulldogs Class of 2013 sweatshirts -- you are not fireworks. You've got the loud part down, but please explode with your teenage hormones elsewhere. Or shoot across the sky-eye-eye and out of earshot. I want no part of your teenage dream and skintight jeans.

In conclusion?

Damn you, Katy Perry!

In Which Your Heart May Break

(A warning: This story deals with a subject that some may find triggering and everyone with a sense of decency will find, for lack of a better word to truly describe this horror, disheartening. Please proceed with caution. Rape and violence are involved, neither of which will ever be presented on this page without a warning.)
Ethics? Huh? Do what now?

The old Gray Lady herself, The New York Times, ran a horrific story on Tuesday of a little girl, aged 11, who was abducted and gang-raped by 18 men, ranging from middle-school age to adults. The accused boys and men insist that the 11-year-old child consented to the "sex" and The New York Times, rather than stating the very obvious fact that children CANNOT consent to sex, chose to run a story that paints the poor accused boys as the true victims. You know, the kind of victims that did the crime, but are still totally innocent and holy and whatnot. (And according to other sources, the local basketball team is suffering without some of their players! Oh nos! Poor boys!)

Now, I know many people who attended what is affectionately called J-School. Journalism School. Not every journalist does, of course, and many just minor in the subject while majoring in an entire other course. So maybe this particular newspaper, only the bastion of American newsprint, just minored in the ethics of journalism. Because something that should be a basic when writing a story of this nature is: Children do NOT consent to sex. Ever.  No matter how they are dressed, where they live, where their parents live or work, or what ethnicity the child is. This is a story of rape, of rape apology, and of complete and total victim blaming.

The New York Times reporter James McKinley writes, "Residents in the neighborhood . . . said she dressed older than her age, wearing makeup and fashions more appropriate to a woman in her 20s."

See? She dressed older than a Patriarchy Approved (TM) 11-year-old girl should dress! That 19-year-old boy who told her that he would beat her if she didn't do as he said was just an innocent bystander to this temptress!
 
Here's my report, unbiased, and completely accurate:

The New York Times, and writer James McKinley, refuses to call the violent rape of a child "rape," preferring "sex" and "a willing participant."

The New York Times, and writer James McKinley, run quotes and commentary that shows sympathy for the accusers, not for the victim. 

The New York Times, and writer James McKinley, perpetuate rape culture.  

The New York Times story, written by hack journalist James McKinley, is full of rape apologists, and The New York Times does nothing, absolutely nothing, to offer a counter argument. Like pointing out that CHILDREN CANNOT CONSENT TO SEX. Ever. And this? Raping children? This is a horrific, punishable crime.

The New York Times and James McKinley disgust me. Because I expect better. Because readers deserve better. Because that 11-year-old girl deserved better than to be blamed for the crimes committed against her, on a national scale, on top of what she has already been through.

Language matters and we will hold those who wield words of rape apology accountable.

Change.org is hosting a petition against the Times, and I hope you will take a moment to sign it.

Tell the New York Times to Apologize for Blaming a Child for Her Gang Rape.

The Times has already released a half-hearted apology, of the, "Sorry you were offended, but we're still totally right!" variety, but remains silent on the lack of accurate wording and victim blaming writer James McKinley peppers his story with. Perhaps the petition will inspire them to rethink their writer and his writing style, in addition to their editorial judgment.

There is a lot of anger and hopelessness felt when hearing a story like this. I am not the judge or on the jury for the boys and men who thought that raping a child was a good way to spend an afternoon, but someone out there is. There is a judge or jury or lawyer in Cleveland, Texas that will have to face this issue, and I hope that they make the right choices. Those boys and men ruined a little girl's life. Forever. And yet, there are news reports like in The New York Times, that plead not to ruin the lives of those boys and men for the actions they chose to do.

Signing a petition, passing this story on, holding those accountable for perpetuating such acts and supporting them in print, wanting this bullshit to stop: It feels like doing very little, but right now it's all I can do. It's all we can do. Write. Sign.


Weekly Flâneur: Sweet Thames

(Click to enlarge)

THE river's tent is broken: the last fingers of leaf 
Clutch and sink into the wet bank. The wind 
Crosses the brown land, unheard. The nymphs are departed. 
Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.

                                              -- T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Dance Like Diamonds


I love that line.
Complete text of the poem, "Still I Rise" by Maya Angelou after the jump.


International Women's Day!



When:  Tuesday 8 March 2011
Where: Everywhere
What:   International Women's Day (8 March) is a global day celebrating the economic, political and social achievements of women past, present and future. In some places like China, Russia, Vietnam and Bulgaria, International Women's Day is a national holiday.
Why:   Suffragettes campaigned for women's right to vote. The word 'Suffragette' is derived from the word "suffrage" meaning the right to vote. International Women's Day honours the work of the Suffragettes, celebrates women's success, and reminds of inequities still to be redressed.

Click on either picture for the International Women's Day website for events, info, and history. 

Monday, March 7, 2011

Farewell to Neverland


Asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, "actress" was always the first answer to pass my lips. Specifically, Broadway actress, even if I was just chorus girl. The father of one of the many children I baby-sat asked me this question one Friday night as he drove me home from an evening of Easy Mac and Cinderella on VHS with his young wards. What do you want to do when you are older? Become an actress. So, you want to become a waitress! He laughed at his own joke, and polite girl that I was, I smiled in return. But it wasn’t funny. Just because I was young, 13 or so, my dreams didn’t matter. It’s not until now, as an adult, that I wonder if he was really laughing at me, or at his own self at 13. Maybe he wanted to be an actor, an astronaut, an architect, but ended up the day shift manager at AT&T somewhere in the suburban wilds of adulthood.

The answer changed as I grew older. What do you want to be when you grow up? Hesitate. Answer: Happy. A different kind of laughter followed. Shrug and smile when asked further questions.

Being an actress would have made me happy: Taking a gig on Broadway, doing the same dance steps night after night, singing the same song with furious gusto, bowing to a crowd of tourists that stood in the cold at the TKTS booth all morning for the same jokes that would be laughed at the next night. Going from show to show, gaining small parts, background roles, until one day someone noticed that a résumé full of shadows equals enough credit in the karma bank of dues to land a larger role. Maybe even a starring role. A life lived fully pretending to be someone else, repeating the words written by another’s hand and gaining all the glory and credit for pronouncing those words correctly and with passion. I could do that. I would be happy doing that. It’s not a laughable goal. A hard one, really, full of struggles and judgments and sleepless nights and empty stomachs, but I have those anyway. In abundance. Doing jobs that never made me half as happy as living a dream would.

Yet, dreams have a strange way of changing. So fluidly and completely, and so readily acceptable that it becomes barely noticeable. Along the way the dream changed, the answer changed. Actress fell away for a brief time to missionary (or something like sainthood, ignoring the fact that I wasn’t even Catholic) and shifting again; in time I realized that I wasn’t reading the words of others so much as I was writing my own. Reciting Chekhov onstage was a highlight in my life, but reading him privately and noting the language, leaden with metaphor and poetry, the burden of translating a word that may not exist in the English language – those things became equally fascinating.

If I live to be 90, I am still now in my youth. But for the most part I am what most would consider to be one of those “grown-ups” -- in that indeterminable age of fantasy and responsibility so thought-upon and frightened by and puzzled over in childhood. Who I am now is the answer to, “what do you want to be when you grow up?” And it seems I got the answer I wanted: Happy. I am happy. I have a newly gained and cherished MA degree in Creative and Professional Writing in hand. I have a loving and supporting partner to stand with me and help fight to keep the wolves of fear and insecurity at bay. I have friends from every corner of the world, who I found through chance (or destiny) and each in turn filled an empty space in my heart.

At this point in my grown-up life, I am broke, unemployed, and carrying a degree that some would consider worthless. (Though, really, how is any education or experience worthless? The lack of monetary value does not make the experience of a sunset any less beautiful or a study in the arts or humanities any less enriching.) I have debt, I have fear, and I have an uncertain job market locking doors that I have yet to knock on. I have no idea what will come next.

But, my friends, my loves, my readers: my heart is so incredibly happy. And if this happiness within myself is the result of being a grown-up? I’ll take it. It’s what I want to be.

Saturday, March 5, 2011

Six Questions

Subtitle: In Which There Is An Incredibly Lazy Blog Post

(Many, many thanks to Persephone Magazine, who hosted the original open thread where these came from.) 

1.)  You’ve been given the power to invent a new ice cream flavor, what is it and why?

Chardonnay Surprise. Dessert is no time to be sober.

2.)  You’re chosen to remake any movie originally made between 1975-1990.  What movie do you remake an how do you cast it?

 Star Wars with an all-female cast. Even Darth Vader. Think about it for a moment.

Pause.

Awesome, no?

I think Lucy Lawless would be in there somewhere. And little Amanda Seyfried. Maybe she could be girl-Luke Skywalker.

(Pictured: Luke and Vader? Maybe.)

3.) What terrible song gets stuck in your head?

 “I whip my hair back and forth. I whip my hair back and forth. I whip my hair back and forth.”
Ad nauseam, to infinity.
(No offense to Miss Willow Smith.)

4.) Tell us about a woman who has been influential in your life.

  My Momma. She’s my hero. Even when we bicker and annoy each other, I hope I can be half as good and cool of a person as she is when I grow up.

5.) What’s your favorite joke?



The only non-dirty one I can think of is actually a quote from a movie. From Pixar’s Up via the dog character, Dug, who says, “Hey, I know a joke! A squirrel walks up to a tree and says, ‘I forgot to store acorns for the winter and now I am dead.’ Ha! It is funny because the squirrel gets dead.”

6.) A band is now following you around performing your personal soundtrack wherever you go, who are they, and what are they playing?

 David Bowie. A clone army of David Bowies playing back-up. And since he is David Bowie, he will invent new songs that perfectly fit the moment for my life soundtrack, most likely using metaphors involving space travel and diamond dogs. Because he is David Bowie, and can do no wrong.

Your turn, readers.
What are your answers?

Friday, March 4, 2011

Friday QuoteDay

 “And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.
 — Sylvia Plath


Thursday, March 3, 2011

Weekly Flâneur: Found

 
(Click to enlarge)
We find God in strange places.
Obsession with street art in London.