I am writing this. I should be working. My jobs in very particular order:
1.) Research-I am here to be a researcher and a student
2.) Teaching-I am supposed to be helping to co-construct knowledge with a whole bunch of 18-23 year olds about intercultural communication
There are probably jobs 3 and 4, but I want to focus on my negotiation with 1 and 2.
I should be working. I have two short papers due next week. I should be doing job one, 70% of the time and job two, 25%-30% of the time. Let alone making time for myself. I won't even talk about that negotiation.
I should be researching. But I am reading to teach tomorrow. When you have others relying on you it is much harder to only allow them 25% of your life. Especially when reading, grading, and discussing their shit seems to be much more important in my everyday than does my research.
I should be, but I'm not.
Tuesday, a conversation broke out in my classroom about ideologies about gender and sports culture. "Women's sports are just not as entertaining. They are not full-body contact." "Women's bodies just happen to be more frail than men's bodies so they could get really hurt playing a full contact sport." "Well women get their hair done and nails done and those things don't go with playing sports."
I look around the room. I see her, my one white lesbian student looking stunned, my two female students of color, and my one white female student, their faces hanging low. Silenced again.
Rapid-fire memories of my own place in classes like this. Classes where I felt silenced, when women feel silenced, devalued. I remember professors who have allowed this to continue and my favorite professors who have called those students out.
Red flush rises.
"I have to be really honest, Sam, That was really offensive. In fact you really offended me."
Some relief on stark faces. Those faces curl in a smile.
A teachable moment, maybe not handled in the best way. Not a long-term solution. That's ok. I stand by my choice. Stand as an ally to my female students.
"I think that when you say that it reinforces ideologies of gender that say men are stronger, and women are weak," Clea speaks quietly.
A teachable moment.
Maybe it got through to someone.
How can I not take this into my everyday? Where else can I put it, but in my heart, head, body. Consume flesh with flesh. An eros of teaching/teacher/taught. As in little separation of student and teacher, because I am always being taught by teachers who are my students.
I should get back to my number one job. To be a researcher, a student. But how can I be a researcher without thinking about teaching tomorrow? More on culture, power, and identity.
Triage.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Degrassi:The Boiling Point:
Yeah! Degrassi has finally gotten back to well at least a place of pseudo-going there! Again yeah!
I am mainly writing because I think it is very interesting that Degrassi decided to choose a transgendered teenaged storyline. It is about time. There are always gay and lesbian characters on television and even teeny-bopper t.v. shows! But finally somebody went there portraying some of the realities of a transgendered teenager.
What I liked about the storyline the most is that in the beginning when we first meet Adam, he is not introduced as transgendered, but as just another dude trying to fit in at Degrassi. I would say that it is definitely somewhat obvious that Adam is the trans character, but at least they do not automatically assert his storyline in a one-dimensional way.
When they do finally do explore Adam's storyline I think they did a pretty decent job. In the episode, "My body is a Cage" they show Adam binding breasts, and the problems that arise in families trying to deal with this new "coming-out." I also like that they show Adam flirting with Bianca, because at some point he is going to need to date someone, so as to not be asexualized, since none of the other characters are. Even the gay ones get dates and smooches! I however, detest Bianca's homophobic/transphobic attitude upon finding out that Adam is a transman.
The other thing I like about it, is Adam's extremely supportive brother, Drew. I didn't realize they were related until these episodes when upon finding out that Adam is harassed, Drew tries to fight the a-holes that did the beating. The rest of his family is also pretty supportive at the end with the whole burn situation at the end.
What I was not a big fan of-his mom's reaction to introducing Adam to grandma. Forcing him to choose to arrive at dinner with granny as Gracie was honestly something of cognitive dissonance. But at least the mom sort of comes around in the end.
Looking forward to seeing more of Adam's character development, which they started doing more of even just at the end of the season. The whole disaster with Fritz or whatever his name is at the end, the fight club stuff, all of that adding to the complexity of what it means to occupy the subject position of trans.
I am mainly writing because I think it is very interesting that Degrassi decided to choose a transgendered teenaged storyline. It is about time. There are always gay and lesbian characters on television and even teeny-bopper t.v. shows! But finally somebody went there portraying some of the realities of a transgendered teenager.
What I liked about the storyline the most is that in the beginning when we first meet Adam, he is not introduced as transgendered, but as just another dude trying to fit in at Degrassi. I would say that it is definitely somewhat obvious that Adam is the trans character, but at least they do not automatically assert his storyline in a one-dimensional way.
When they do finally do explore Adam's storyline I think they did a pretty decent job. In the episode, "My body is a Cage" they show Adam binding breasts, and the problems that arise in families trying to deal with this new "coming-out." I also like that they show Adam flirting with Bianca, because at some point he is going to need to date someone, so as to not be asexualized, since none of the other characters are. Even the gay ones get dates and smooches! I however, detest Bianca's homophobic/transphobic attitude upon finding out that Adam is a transman.
The other thing I like about it, is Adam's extremely supportive brother, Drew. I didn't realize they were related until these episodes when upon finding out that Adam is harassed, Drew tries to fight the a-holes that did the beating. The rest of his family is also pretty supportive at the end with the whole burn situation at the end.
What I was not a big fan of-his mom's reaction to introducing Adam to grandma. Forcing him to choose to arrive at dinner with granny as Gracie was honestly something of cognitive dissonance. But at least the mom sort of comes around in the end.
Looking forward to seeing more of Adam's character development, which they started doing more of even just at the end of the season. The whole disaster with Fritz or whatever his name is at the end, the fight club stuff, all of that adding to the complexity of what it means to occupy the subject position of trans.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
August 27: The day that does not exist
Drinking seven chakra tea. Hoping to press flesh into earth, wrap arms around ugly. Smell of horse shit and dandelions. I lock my mouth to dirt, bite a chunk. Move my hand between stomach and ground feeling rhythmic pulsations, while try to spit mud through the small space in front teeth. In the past month I have been called both an Empath and a Wordsmith. They are not mutually exclusive but indicative of one another.
--
Two years ago a bug infested couch by ashen fire pit, tears soaking chrysanthemums bright red. Dust drizzles spiked peaks, floating softly above purpling night.
Screaming at that bitch who tells me Obama is going to let Russians invade. Her hands, my hands, my grandmother's hands are a blur. Held it tight. "It's ok to leave grandma. We'll be fine." "I love you grandma." "Fuck you!" "Get away from me!" Ran up the street to my house. "Just don't leave me. Do not leave me. Ever." "Ok," she said. We sat and talked about dust forever that night. How I can see it. How I talk to animals, birds and dogs mostly. I wanted her hands inked on my body, never found the right spot. Sat for hours while she held me, into cold that turns hot with exhale.
One year ago to the day. His toxic-waste dump of a body slumped over in the bed. "He went to keep your grandmother company." "She was telling him to come to her." Daydreams of adults who need to hear childlike fantasies in order to feel better. I talked with her the night before asked her to keep him safe so he wouldn't be scared. He didn't want to die. Wasn't ready for the mess he left. The basement shakes with my mother's sobs. What the fuck are we gonna do now? Funerals, eulogies, to honor a memory. Someone loved. Someone despised. Doesn't matter now. We just honor.
A year later and the money is gone. Not a penny left. Another failed investment. Spent every last penny of the IRA, throwing it at a wing joint. Maybe the building was cursed, or maybe the slumlord was a 75 year-old lady, who refused to fix the broken sewer line. Now they had a beautifully remodeled building they didn’t own, and a backed up grease trap, from raw sewage left to rot pipes. He had left them a mess.
--
Some reflections that I may have written before but feel necessary to repost again.
My great grandmother and step-father died the same day a year apart exactly. August 27. I pretend this day does not exist, cross it off calendars with black permanent pen. I was asked to both write and deliver eulogies at both funerals, the last pieces of significance for me. I didn’t want to unveil anything else, afraid of being haunted by memories. It is recommended I create an alter, acquire a marigold skull, light candles, burn incense, work through loss. I wonder what doing all of this in combination with writing could reveal. A divinatory moment about profound loss I suppose.
I have been thinking a lot about witnessing the death of the other and not witnessing one’s
own death. Laying in bed, encouraging last breaths, holding bruised hands, it is hard to separate myself from the isolation of death. Death of language. I witness the demise of the other, am forced into writing and performing it in various ways, simultaneously feeling as though I am staging my mortality. In writing life I always feel I am writing death, writing without witnessing the ultimate mystery.
“What kind of seer do you want to be?” The kind who sees ugliness and beauty, who sees both the expected and unexpected, desiring to bridge them on a page and a stage. I have been perplexed by the interaction with “the leaf” and the “photo of the leaf.” It comes down to hermeneutics, the brain as part of the body still interprets even if faced with “the physical leaf.” As we see a “physical leaf,” as language users L-E-A-F enters the mind as a representative. This is mediated also. Skin wraps muscles, blood, and tissue still implicated, interpretation still exercised. Differently, with no less validity. They provide different experiences, but no less authentic. My writing has become a process of seeing and interpreting in varying ways, but never able to leave my body behind.
I have been told to put anger and emotion into writing. When trauma occurs writing ceases. Maybe that is my greatest weakness. I have not been able to write when distressed. Retreating, I do not write, not even my blog, let alone something critical or creative. I need ways to exist with ghosts and scars. I am not sure how to do this yet?
--
Postlude
I have been trying to write my emotion. This is just a taste. I wish I had something more significant than an attempt. But for now it is what I have. I will continue to struggle and process ways of dealing with the deaths of two people I loved very very much. I think writing at all is my attempt to be closer to where they are. To deal with death, instead of run from it. For now I have chakra tea, beads, and a stone. I pray that tomorrow comes and goes and that all I need is Shiraz and roses to survive.
--
Two years ago a bug infested couch by ashen fire pit, tears soaking chrysanthemums bright red. Dust drizzles spiked peaks, floating softly above purpling night.
Screaming at that bitch who tells me Obama is going to let Russians invade. Her hands, my hands, my grandmother's hands are a blur. Held it tight. "It's ok to leave grandma. We'll be fine." "I love you grandma." "Fuck you!" "Get away from me!" Ran up the street to my house. "Just don't leave me. Do not leave me. Ever." "Ok," she said. We sat and talked about dust forever that night. How I can see it. How I talk to animals, birds and dogs mostly. I wanted her hands inked on my body, never found the right spot. Sat for hours while she held me, into cold that turns hot with exhale.
One year ago to the day. His toxic-waste dump of a body slumped over in the bed. "He went to keep your grandmother company." "She was telling him to come to her." Daydreams of adults who need to hear childlike fantasies in order to feel better. I talked with her the night before asked her to keep him safe so he wouldn't be scared. He didn't want to die. Wasn't ready for the mess he left. The basement shakes with my mother's sobs. What the fuck are we gonna do now? Funerals, eulogies, to honor a memory. Someone loved. Someone despised. Doesn't matter now. We just honor.
A year later and the money is gone. Not a penny left. Another failed investment. Spent every last penny of the IRA, throwing it at a wing joint. Maybe the building was cursed, or maybe the slumlord was a 75 year-old lady, who refused to fix the broken sewer line. Now they had a beautifully remodeled building they didn’t own, and a backed up grease trap, from raw sewage left to rot pipes. He had left them a mess.
--
Some reflections that I may have written before but feel necessary to repost again.
My great grandmother and step-father died the same day a year apart exactly. August 27. I pretend this day does not exist, cross it off calendars with black permanent pen. I was asked to both write and deliver eulogies at both funerals, the last pieces of significance for me. I didn’t want to unveil anything else, afraid of being haunted by memories. It is recommended I create an alter, acquire a marigold skull, light candles, burn incense, work through loss. I wonder what doing all of this in combination with writing could reveal. A divinatory moment about profound loss I suppose.
I have been thinking a lot about witnessing the death of the other and not witnessing one’s
own death. Laying in bed, encouraging last breaths, holding bruised hands, it is hard to separate myself from the isolation of death. Death of language. I witness the demise of the other, am forced into writing and performing it in various ways, simultaneously feeling as though I am staging my mortality. In writing life I always feel I am writing death, writing without witnessing the ultimate mystery.
“What kind of seer do you want to be?” The kind who sees ugliness and beauty, who sees both the expected and unexpected, desiring to bridge them on a page and a stage. I have been perplexed by the interaction with “the leaf” and the “photo of the leaf.” It comes down to hermeneutics, the brain as part of the body still interprets even if faced with “the physical leaf.” As we see a “physical leaf,” as language users L-E-A-F enters the mind as a representative. This is mediated also. Skin wraps muscles, blood, and tissue still implicated, interpretation still exercised. Differently, with no less validity. They provide different experiences, but no less authentic. My writing has become a process of seeing and interpreting in varying ways, but never able to leave my body behind.
I have been told to put anger and emotion into writing. When trauma occurs writing ceases. Maybe that is my greatest weakness. I have not been able to write when distressed. Retreating, I do not write, not even my blog, let alone something critical or creative. I need ways to exist with ghosts and scars. I am not sure how to do this yet?
--
Postlude
I have been trying to write my emotion. This is just a taste. I wish I had something more significant than an attempt. But for now it is what I have. I will continue to struggle and process ways of dealing with the deaths of two people I loved very very much. I think writing at all is my attempt to be closer to where they are. To deal with death, instead of run from it. For now I have chakra tea, beads, and a stone. I pray that tomorrow comes and goes and that all I need is Shiraz and roses to survive.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Summer of Books: Girl With the Dragon Tattoo
Ah the Girl With the Dragon Tattoo this summer's Harry Potter, but with "dark subject matter." I think I am quoting the evening news on this. I wasn't going to read it simply because it is popular, and I have an aversion to most popular things at first. But after seeing the book on the news I decided maybe I should read it.
I am not going to write what the book is about too much, it is an International Best-Seller. Read the NYT review for goodness sake. But for people who were wondering, I thought that for a mystery novel, it was pretty good. A more intense, articulate, social commentary, type of mystery, crime novel. It is well thought-out, although, admittedly I guessed the ending. Well, not all of it. It is well-written and at almost six hundred pages, there's a lot of pretty good writing to read. It isn't a fast-mover, but it gets page-turnery as it moves along.
My favorite this is that the main anti/protagonist, Lisbeth Salander, well, she kicks ass. And she sleeps with women. At least she slept with one woman briefly in the first book, but does not consider herself bi-sexual as media outlets have portrayed her.
If you are not a big thriller, mystery, best-sellery, type person, then this will probably not be your cup of tea.
I did not find it too horrifying or graphic? Not really. But I watch Dexter, and Bones, and Law and Order, and have read a bunch of pretty cheesy mystery novels, with content that is more haunting. I hear that the series gets darker, and I have purchased the second book, and having read the preface/first chapter from the end of GWtDT it appears a bit creepier. But as a friend told me, "Kathryn, you are de-sensitized." So don't take my word on the creepy/dark factor.
I am not going to write what the book is about too much, it is an International Best-Seller. Read the NYT review for goodness sake. But for people who were wondering, I thought that for a mystery novel, it was pretty good. A more intense, articulate, social commentary, type of mystery, crime novel. It is well thought-out, although, admittedly I guessed the ending. Well, not all of it. It is well-written and at almost six hundred pages, there's a lot of pretty good writing to read. It isn't a fast-mover, but it gets page-turnery as it moves along.
My favorite this is that the main anti/protagonist, Lisbeth Salander, well, she kicks ass. And she sleeps with women. At least she slept with one woman briefly in the first book, but does not consider herself bi-sexual as media outlets have portrayed her.
If you are not a big thriller, mystery, best-sellery, type person, then this will probably not be your cup of tea.
I did not find it too horrifying or graphic? Not really. But I watch Dexter, and Bones, and Law and Order, and have read a bunch of pretty cheesy mystery novels, with content that is more haunting. I hear that the series gets darker, and I have purchased the second book, and having read the preface/first chapter from the end of GWtDT it appears a bit creepier. But as a friend told me, "Kathryn, you are de-sensitized." So don't take my word on the creepy/dark factor.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Not-So-Guilty-Pleasure: Bones: Making it Look Super Cool to have a PhD
So I am not going to write a ton about this show. It has been on for five seasons now, but I just recently started watching it because it was recommended to me by...Netflix! This is based on my preferences for crime drama shows. While composing my syllabus, I find it necessary to keep myself entertained by putting this on for background noise. What I love about this show: It makes getting a PhD seem so so so cool!!
The main character Dr. Temperance Brennen is a forensic anthropologist who works for the Jeffersonian in Washington D.C., helping the FBI, specifically agent Seeley Booth, solve crime through analysis of you guessed it: Bones! Bones serves as a double entendre, as it also serves as a pet name for Brennan by Booth. In this show they use state-of-the-art technology to recreate faces of fragmented skulls, bug/environmental analysis to determine time of death/burial/site of remains, and cause of death through specific weapons/objects etc. I mean it seems so far-fetched, but even Brennan's nerdy team of squints seem to be pretty neat-o! The squints have these totally unreal jobs (although supposedly the show is based on series creator Kathy Reichs' life) and Brennan gets to go out solving cases kicking some @$$ with her taekwondo or whatever..something she probably learned traveling and living with various indigenous groups throughout the world. Oh if getting a PhD was only so glamorous...
I must admit, I do not buy into all of the science i.e. Dr. Temperance Brennan and her team can tell someone's ethnic/racial origins based on their skeletal remains. For example Brennen can often make the distinction between someone of African decent from someone of one of the many white European decendants' ethnicity/race. Sounds like an updated version of racist Phrenology. At least she is not in charge of discerning who is smarter based on skull size, bumps, and brains. Brennen has learned so much about "others" by identifying their remains, as she says, "It's like I know them." Uh huh? I want to think it is that cool, but I must admit I think human life is more than abstractions made from various skeletal remains. I do think Brennen is coming to terms with this throughout the show.
The other thing I am not a huge fan of: Making Emily Deschanel appear socially awkward and only understanding of human contact and interaction as a means of biological drives and positivistic science. I feel that someone who went through graduate school with an anthropology degree, even physical anthropology, would probably not be quite this dense. And Deschanel doesn't play this well. Every once and awhile her misunderstanding of a certain colloquial or pop cultural icon/moment/saying seems faked. For example, she questions what the expression, "What's up buttercup" means? Her socially awkward (and poorly portrayed social awkwardness at that) Zack, must explain to her what this means. While I understand this is a.) supposed to make her seem out of touch with reality b.) appear more intelligent than everyone else c.) not concerned with trivialities like such expression it makes the character look like she must have been living under a rock for her ENTIRE life. And I do believe at some point she was a child (we see flashbacks of this) and probably did not always have her PhD and may have been exposed to life outside academia for say 18 years or so of life. Even without a PhD, someone could probably discern what such a statement would mean, or give it an educated guess. So far I like season two's lack of this incredibly stereotypical representation of "Dr."
Below I offer a really horrible you tube clip of the show. I recommend just watching it on the ol' Netflix watch it now if that is a choice for you.
The main character Dr. Temperance Brennen is a forensic anthropologist who works for the Jeffersonian in Washington D.C., helping the FBI, specifically agent Seeley Booth, solve crime through analysis of you guessed it: Bones! Bones serves as a double entendre, as it also serves as a pet name for Brennan by Booth. In this show they use state-of-the-art technology to recreate faces of fragmented skulls, bug/environmental analysis to determine time of death/burial/site of remains, and cause of death through specific weapons/objects etc. I mean it seems so far-fetched, but even Brennan's nerdy team of squints seem to be pretty neat-o! The squints have these totally unreal jobs (although supposedly the show is based on series creator Kathy Reichs' life) and Brennan gets to go out solving cases kicking some @$$ with her taekwondo or whatever..something she probably learned traveling and living with various indigenous groups throughout the world. Oh if getting a PhD was only so glamorous...
I must admit, I do not buy into all of the science i.e. Dr. Temperance Brennan and her team can tell someone's ethnic/racial origins based on their skeletal remains. For example Brennen can often make the distinction between someone of African decent from someone of one of the many white European decendants' ethnicity/race. Sounds like an updated version of racist Phrenology. At least she is not in charge of discerning who is smarter based on skull size, bumps, and brains. Brennen has learned so much about "others" by identifying their remains, as she says, "It's like I know them." Uh huh? I want to think it is that cool, but I must admit I think human life is more than abstractions made from various skeletal remains. I do think Brennen is coming to terms with this throughout the show.
The other thing I am not a huge fan of: Making Emily Deschanel appear socially awkward and only understanding of human contact and interaction as a means of biological drives and positivistic science. I feel that someone who went through graduate school with an anthropology degree, even physical anthropology, would probably not be quite this dense. And Deschanel doesn't play this well. Every once and awhile her misunderstanding of a certain colloquial or pop cultural icon/moment/saying seems faked. For example, she questions what the expression, "What's up buttercup" means? Her socially awkward (and poorly portrayed social awkwardness at that) Zack, must explain to her what this means. While I understand this is a.) supposed to make her seem out of touch with reality b.) appear more intelligent than everyone else c.) not concerned with trivialities like such expression it makes the character look like she must have been living under a rock for her ENTIRE life. And I do believe at some point she was a child (we see flashbacks of this) and probably did not always have her PhD and may have been exposed to life outside academia for say 18 years or so of life. Even without a PhD, someone could probably discern what such a statement would mean, or give it an educated guess. So far I like season two's lack of this incredibly stereotypical representation of "Dr."
Below I offer a really horrible you tube clip of the show. I recommend just watching it on the ol' Netflix watch it now if that is a choice for you.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Summer Television self-indulgences: The Real L Word
On top of reading, I have been watching a significant amount of not-so-guilty, yet pleasurable (sort of) television.
The Real L Word
Like the fake L Word, the Real L Word is poorly scripted, flat, full of drama (although lesbian), reifying of heteronormativity, and I JUST CAN'T NOT WATCH IT. Sunday nights, I am drawn to this Lesbian themed reality television like I am to my Crackberry. Little red light flashing=previews for that night's episode. Then after seeing the opening credits, Jill and I discuss who we like and dislike, although, obviously I am more invested in this than she is. I realized most of them I hate but I keep coming back for more, hoping for some redeeming qualities. Always trying to find a point of (dis) identification, I am trying to find which character I belong to. In this, I see no hope. Of course the "fake" L Word left us all hanging with the "Who killed Jenny" fiasco. Redemption for Ilene Chaiken may be impossible.
Whitney
I like to describe her as smokin' hot with THE MOST annoying personality EVER!!! Her misnomer, "I don't like drama" is getting old. She is the epitome of LESBO drama. Oh I don't know why you piss off every girl you play with, maybe because you date all of them at once. I am fine with polyamory as long as everyone involved is open and aware of what is going on. Obviously this is not the case with all of Whitney's flings. At least this week Sara (why the fuck do they say her name like SADA?) gave her a taste of her own well-deserved medicine. Oh poor Whitney's getting her heart broken...ABOUT TIME!!! Quit trying to figure out if Whitney will commit and be ok with her commitment-phobic attitude and allow her to be free as long as she is respectful of the women she is free with.And for all the women in love with her...Get a freakin' clue. She's just not that into you!
Mikey
A total mysoginist, Mikey at least had a couple moments of shining. First when yelling at that modeling agent she really almost started crying, although I don't think she would ever honestly admit that. Second, offering her aunt that make-over, performed by one of Whitney's flings, Romi. This was a touching moment of the series where one of the bos actually appeared to have a soul. A rarity. Her mood shifts are pretty intense, from loving Raquel and wanting to marry her to hating her for playing a pretty harmless joke and pretending to not be at Mikey's beck and call.
Rose
Supposedly Papi is based on Rose's life of partying and womanizing. It's cool, I liked Papi, although short-lived and a highly stereotypical portrayal of the Latin lover. I hate Rose. Papi was likeable, she didn't treat the women she was with like little children but managed to at least appear on some level to love all of them. Afterellen.com sums up Rose best in their minicap Rose cares about Rose and treats her girlfriend Natalie like poo. Condescension and paternalism are just two of Rose's faults, amongst her lying (I'm just hanging out with my friends actually a "bromance" night with strippers rubbing boobies in her face), and all over rude demeanor. I am sick of Natalie being treated like a five-year-old little girl, with mama Rose protecting her. Please Nat, DO NOT work for Rose, you will regret it. Or maybe do it so the break-up will come faster.
Jik/Nill
It is annoying that in this couple the two individuals seem to have collapsed self-identities. They are no longer two seperate people but are defined by their primary pairing. Self-defined as the straightest gay people they or at least Nik knows, they are in the midst of planning some hideous glamarati wedding. Oh it is Betina all over again, one person has more money and power then the other and we all saw how well that worked out! I'm not saying don't celebrate your love but why does it need to be so extravagant? At least they vetoed the custom dresses-those were ridiculously expensive. There are few words to explain the ick-factor that these two embody. How is being straight-gay something to celebrate and exclaim from the television rooftops?
Tracy
Finally, the ONE character that does not constantly annoy me! In fact most of the time I feel bad for her, she's too young to be a mother of three. And I don't think she really wants that sort of responsibility yet. I am kind of waiting for her to realize this and for the other shoe to drop. On the other side, Stamie is funny, charming, and interested in helping Tracy with a modeling career. Well-worth it in my opinion. So I continue to root for them. Is there any way to kick the kids out of the picture? Just kidding. It's way gayer this way. Dogs and kids and keys oh my!
The one thing I liked about the "fake" L Word was that all the women were at least at various times all friends with one another. When are the Real L Word characters going to all meet up and become friends. I think Iw as hoping for something of a Real World (Watch what happens when six lesbians live in a house in Los Angeles stop being polite and start getting real!!) Like lets round up six lesbians, put them in a cage, and voyeuristically observe them in their unnatural habitat. Ok, so that isn't a good idea either, but I was hoping for some camaraderie amongst the cast, some relationships being formed, hot tub scenes being filmed, cat fights breaking out! You know the things that make for good reality television. Alas I will have to settle for the soft-core porn of Whitney effing SADA in the shower. I am not a big fan of this hypersexualized performance of lesbianism and I don't need to see the line-crossing sex scenes. I don't find them hot, but weird, and again ick factor. And I'm a lesbo. Not good when Real lesbians feel intrusive into these personal moments in a non-sexy way.
all in all middle to down thumb with hope for the future.
The Real L Word
Like the fake L Word, the Real L Word is poorly scripted, flat, full of drama (although lesbian), reifying of heteronormativity, and I JUST CAN'T NOT WATCH IT. Sunday nights, I am drawn to this Lesbian themed reality television like I am to my Crackberry. Little red light flashing=previews for that night's episode. Then after seeing the opening credits, Jill and I discuss who we like and dislike, although, obviously I am more invested in this than she is. I realized most of them I hate but I keep coming back for more, hoping for some redeeming qualities. Always trying to find a point of (dis) identification, I am trying to find which character I belong to. In this, I see no hope. Of course the "fake" L Word left us all hanging with the "Who killed Jenny" fiasco. Redemption for Ilene Chaiken may be impossible.
Whitney
I like to describe her as smokin' hot with THE MOST annoying personality EVER!!! Her misnomer, "I don't like drama" is getting old. She is the epitome of LESBO drama. Oh I don't know why you piss off every girl you play with, maybe because you date all of them at once. I am fine with polyamory as long as everyone involved is open and aware of what is going on. Obviously this is not the case with all of Whitney's flings. At least this week Sara (why the fuck do they say her name like SADA?) gave her a taste of her own well-deserved medicine. Oh poor Whitney's getting her heart broken...ABOUT TIME!!! Quit trying to figure out if Whitney will commit and be ok with her commitment-phobic attitude and allow her to be free as long as she is respectful of the women she is free with.And for all the women in love with her...Get a freakin' clue. She's just not that into you!
Mikey
A total mysoginist, Mikey at least had a couple moments of shining. First when yelling at that modeling agent she really almost started crying, although I don't think she would ever honestly admit that. Second, offering her aunt that make-over, performed by one of Whitney's flings, Romi. This was a touching moment of the series where one of the bos actually appeared to have a soul. A rarity. Her mood shifts are pretty intense, from loving Raquel and wanting to marry her to hating her for playing a pretty harmless joke and pretending to not be at Mikey's beck and call.
Rose
Supposedly Papi is based on Rose's life of partying and womanizing. It's cool, I liked Papi, although short-lived and a highly stereotypical portrayal of the Latin lover. I hate Rose. Papi was likeable, she didn't treat the women she was with like little children but managed to at least appear on some level to love all of them. Afterellen.com sums up Rose best in their minicap Rose cares about Rose and treats her girlfriend Natalie like poo. Condescension and paternalism are just two of Rose's faults, amongst her lying (I'm just hanging out with my friends actually a "bromance" night with strippers rubbing boobies in her face), and all over rude demeanor. I am sick of Natalie being treated like a five-year-old little girl, with mama Rose protecting her. Please Nat, DO NOT work for Rose, you will regret it. Or maybe do it so the break-up will come faster.
Jik/Nill
It is annoying that in this couple the two individuals seem to have collapsed self-identities. They are no longer two seperate people but are defined by their primary pairing. Self-defined as the straightest gay people they or at least Nik knows, they are in the midst of planning some hideous glamarati wedding. Oh it is Betina all over again, one person has more money and power then the other and we all saw how well that worked out! I'm not saying don't celebrate your love but why does it need to be so extravagant? At least they vetoed the custom dresses-those were ridiculously expensive. There are few words to explain the ick-factor that these two embody. How is being straight-gay something to celebrate and exclaim from the television rooftops?
Tracy
Finally, the ONE character that does not constantly annoy me! In fact most of the time I feel bad for her, she's too young to be a mother of three. And I don't think she really wants that sort of responsibility yet. I am kind of waiting for her to realize this and for the other shoe to drop. On the other side, Stamie is funny, charming, and interested in helping Tracy with a modeling career. Well-worth it in my opinion. So I continue to root for them. Is there any way to kick the kids out of the picture? Just kidding. It's way gayer this way. Dogs and kids and keys oh my!
The one thing I liked about the "fake" L Word was that all the women were at least at various times all friends with one another. When are the Real L Word characters going to all meet up and become friends. I think Iw as hoping for something of a Real World (Watch what happens when six lesbians live in a house in Los Angeles stop being polite and start getting real!!) Like lets round up six lesbians, put them in a cage, and voyeuristically observe them in their unnatural habitat. Ok, so that isn't a good idea either, but I was hoping for some camaraderie amongst the cast, some relationships being formed, hot tub scenes being filmed, cat fights breaking out! You know the things that make for good reality television. Alas I will have to settle for the soft-core porn of Whitney effing SADA in the shower. I am not a big fan of this hypersexualized performance of lesbianism and I don't need to see the line-crossing sex scenes. I don't find them hot, but weird, and again ick factor. And I'm a lesbo. Not good when Real lesbians feel intrusive into these personal moments in a non-sexy way.
all in all middle to down thumb with hope for the future.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Being and Vibration
So I recently finished reading Being and Vibration by Joseph Rael for my week-long workshop at Naropa with Julie Patton.
It was an amazing week and I should have written about it more at the time. Julie asked us to try and not write with our computers at all during the week and I have to say it was very liberating to not be tied to a machine. Of course here I am back to it. But at the time of the workshop the way I took my notes was through writing letters to two friends, sharing parts of my experience. I am tying to carry over this practice as much as possible by not tying myself down to computers, my cell phone, etc. It is summer time, not time to be in connection with everyone, because, it is the only time I get to connect with myself. THE WHOLE PURPOSE OF THIS BOOK READING, REVIEWING PROCESS.
Back to the book. I cannot say I understand. The combination of metaphysics, sound, tone, vibration, energy is not something I usually jive with on such an explicit level. For instance, Rael, a man of Ute (as combined with other American Indian) heritage, offers a variety of ways to chant various words both in solo and group meditation settings. He describes ways of focusing on vowel sounds, i.e. "PEACE" becomes "peeeez" stretching the "ee" sound for purposes of sound meditation. This is not necessarily a new idea for those people who practice various forms of sound meditation, including the "Om" at the end of yoga practice. Rael relates much of sound vibration to a sort of transcendent form of being, the medicine wheel, and directionaiy (NSEW) and identifications with directions.
I thought this was crazy and didn't get it. Just kind of blasted through reading it. Until I met Julie, who is a poet. Some might call her a sound poet, meaning she makes poetry through sounds, not always human language, but language none-the-less. But she calls herself a poet, and I respect her process of self-identification. She is this amazingly beautiful black woman, with huge greying dreds, and a penchant for being with nature, observing, and knowing how to survive without monetary gain. Pretty impressive. We spent one workshop observing a blue heron, and then blindfolded, translating the sounds we heard in the natural setting of the Boulder Creek into sounds humans can make. One person took dictation while the other person made noises (not words necessarily) creating a soundscape. The next day we read these "sound poems" out loud to dogs. Seems strange right? But dogs respond to sounds. Not words. Even those dogs that are very well trained are responding to various forms of vibrational patterns that words make coming out of a human's mouth. Often to train a dog it requires more then simply saying a word. It requires saying it in a certain way, raising or lowering pitch, tone, speed. That is what dogs respond to.
So why are humans so out of touch with these vibrations? Because we have been socialized that talking with animals (as many of us do as children) is something only crazy people do. As both Rael and Julie say we have lost our ability to listen often relying on sight as a primary sensing skill. If you think about it humans can see many things at once and even notice the amount of things they are seeing, while only able to focus on one sound at a time. This is of course not true for all humans, there are always cultural factors playing a role into one's ability to do anything as well as ability. Those who are blind often have very keen other senses out of necessity.
The point however, is that if we think of communication as vibration, we hear a lot more, and open ourselves up to the possibilities of communication in a new form of language, one not limited to words. And I LOVE words. But I am open to experiencing beyond the word too. And I am also a person who usually says we cannot exist outside of language and I believe that, but maybe we need to be more open to what language is and work on erasing the hierarchy of human language, not only the language of dominance (white, masculinist, heterosexist, upper class) languaging over those of "others," but also the hierarchy of human language over language of animals, nature, etc. Not unproblematic, or uncomplicated, but I am open to being in conversation with this idea. I may not get Rael on his own, but I get Julie's translation of him and the practical use of his book for performers who work with vibration and silence to create meaningful performances.
It was an amazing week and I should have written about it more at the time. Julie asked us to try and not write with our computers at all during the week and I have to say it was very liberating to not be tied to a machine. Of course here I am back to it. But at the time of the workshop the way I took my notes was through writing letters to two friends, sharing parts of my experience. I am tying to carry over this practice as much as possible by not tying myself down to computers, my cell phone, etc. It is summer time, not time to be in connection with everyone, because, it is the only time I get to connect with myself. THE WHOLE PURPOSE OF THIS BOOK READING, REVIEWING PROCESS.
Back to the book. I cannot say I understand. The combination of metaphysics, sound, tone, vibration, energy is not something I usually jive with on such an explicit level. For instance, Rael, a man of Ute (as combined with other American Indian) heritage, offers a variety of ways to chant various words both in solo and group meditation settings. He describes ways of focusing on vowel sounds, i.e. "PEACE" becomes "peeeez" stretching the "ee" sound for purposes of sound meditation. This is not necessarily a new idea for those people who practice various forms of sound meditation, including the "Om" at the end of yoga practice. Rael relates much of sound vibration to a sort of transcendent form of being, the medicine wheel, and directionaiy (NSEW) and identifications with directions.
I thought this was crazy and didn't get it. Just kind of blasted through reading it. Until I met Julie, who is a poet. Some might call her a sound poet, meaning she makes poetry through sounds, not always human language, but language none-the-less. But she calls herself a poet, and I respect her process of self-identification. She is this amazingly beautiful black woman, with huge greying dreds, and a penchant for being with nature, observing, and knowing how to survive without monetary gain. Pretty impressive. We spent one workshop observing a blue heron, and then blindfolded, translating the sounds we heard in the natural setting of the Boulder Creek into sounds humans can make. One person took dictation while the other person made noises (not words necessarily) creating a soundscape. The next day we read these "sound poems" out loud to dogs. Seems strange right? But dogs respond to sounds. Not words. Even those dogs that are very well trained are responding to various forms of vibrational patterns that words make coming out of a human's mouth. Often to train a dog it requires more then simply saying a word. It requires saying it in a certain way, raising or lowering pitch, tone, speed. That is what dogs respond to.
So why are humans so out of touch with these vibrations? Because we have been socialized that talking with animals (as many of us do as children) is something only crazy people do. As both Rael and Julie say we have lost our ability to listen often relying on sight as a primary sensing skill. If you think about it humans can see many things at once and even notice the amount of things they are seeing, while only able to focus on one sound at a time. This is of course not true for all humans, there are always cultural factors playing a role into one's ability to do anything as well as ability. Those who are blind often have very keen other senses out of necessity.
The point however, is that if we think of communication as vibration, we hear a lot more, and open ourselves up to the possibilities of communication in a new form of language, one not limited to words. And I LOVE words. But I am open to experiencing beyond the word too. And I am also a person who usually says we cannot exist outside of language and I believe that, but maybe we need to be more open to what language is and work on erasing the hierarchy of human language, not only the language of dominance (white, masculinist, heterosexist, upper class) languaging over those of "others," but also the hierarchy of human language over language of animals, nature, etc. Not unproblematic, or uncomplicated, but I am open to being in conversation with this idea. I may not get Rael on his own, but I get Julie's translation of him and the practical use of his book for performers who work with vibration and silence to create meaningful performances.
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