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The Choice I’m Not Applauding

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Trigger Warning

This blog contains content.

 

 

Trigger

 

 

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Department Of Damning With Faint Praise

From a NY Times review of the movie Indignation:

But despite its faults, “Indignation” is easily the best film made of a Roth novel, which is saying a lot.

To the Co-founders and Co-presidents [1]  of the I Loathe Philip Roth And Other Overrated Sexually Regressive Hipster Wannabe Misogynist White Male Writers Club, [2] that is, indeed, saying a lot…but not a lot of what the reviewer imagines.

Indignation, indeed.

 

 

 

sexism

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Department of Missing The Point

I am an admirer of Palestinian-American, Muslim-identified, comedian-actor Masoon Zayid, and follow her FB page[3]  I am not a fan of her August 14 FB comment on the recent burkini brouhaha (re the mayor of Cannes banning full-body swimsuits, or “burkinis”, from the French city’s beaches):

I dress like the lost Kardashian AND support a woman’s right to choose to sport a burkini. Your body your rules.

Zayid’s (totally understandable) instinct to support her Muslim sisters is commendable but also, IMHO, naïve and misses a larger point. Translation: I was moved to open my big mouth (or…uh…type with my big fingers?) via FB comment:

“Your body your rules” – if only. That laudable sentiment only works in societies/cultures where women have true autonomy. If a woman is raised with the reality that she can be accosted, threatened, shamed and even assaulted and murdered by boys and men if she is not “properly” covered…gee, I wonder what kind of “choice” she will be “free” to make?

 

"How embarrassing - I chose the same prom dress as Fatima...and Zara...and Aisha...and Sobia...."

“How embarrassing – I chose the same prom dress as Fatima…and Zara…and Aisha…and Sobia….”

 

Some Muslim activists tout the ideal of Muslim women who freely choose “the veil” in some form, be it hijab, niqab, even burqa. Other Muslim women activits are asking Muslim women not to wear hijab, which they feel is “…an interpretation of Islam we reject that believes that women are a sexual distraction to men…(an) ideology promotes a social attitude that absolves men of sexually harassing women and puts the onus on the victim to protect herself by covering up.”

I see those coverings [4] – particularly the suffocating, dehumanizing burqas – as glorified burial shrouds, and signs of social, sexual, intellectual (and certainly sartorial) slavery.

As for the idea that people freely choose to don such cloaking devices, of course all sentient beings like to tell themselves that they freely choose their lot. But when Muslim women can be attacked in a public park for wearing a swimsuitstoned to death for not wearing a veil, subjected to an Iman’s declaration that you are asking to be raped if you don’t wear a hijba, or be harassed and beaten for wearing a veil but not the right way, and suffer other persecutions ranging from absurdities to horrific atrocities…[5] how can there be anything resembling honest choice in the matter? Those who declare otherwise have a very different – and I would argue, dangerous – idea of what constitutes “freedom.”

 

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Oh And By The Way While We’re On The Subject

Aka Department Of Sometimes You Just Can’t Win

Aka Department Of Damned If You Do, Damned If You Don’t….

 

So, not only can Muslim women and girls be assaulted by fellow Muslims – even in this country – for not wearing a hijab, it seems there’s a growing problem of Muslim women and girls who live in Western countries, including England and  Canada and the USA , being targeted for harassment when they do wear one.

WTF is wrong with people?

No, folks. Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.

shame

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Department Of Must Change Subject To Something Less Disheartening

One afternoon about a year and a half ago, MH told me that, in case I hadn’t noticed, he’d stopped wearing his wedding ring…and in case I had noticed, he wanted to assure me as to why. A combination of The Aging Process © and decades of tapping digits on keyboards had given him arthritis-like symptoms, specifically pain and swelling in his fingers. He removed his ring, hoping that doing so might alleviate the pain, and fearing that if the swelling increased and he left it on, he might have to have the ring cut off.

I hadn’t noticed his wedding band-less finger. After his revelation I decided to commiserate with his situation in the only way that seemed logical to me: by removing my own ring. This has caused just a wee bit o’ eyebrow-raising from people who’ve noticed. I assuage such concerns thusly: my removing my wedding band is not a harbinger of marital discord; rather, it’s a reinforcement of its importance and mutuality.

A long time ago in a galaxy far far away, I spent many years working in women’s reproductive health care, wherein I encountered several married couples who did not wear wedding rings. The no-ring-thing was sometimes for job-related reasons (rings can be safety hazards for jewelers, mechanics and others who work with their hands), sometimes due to dermatologic allergies, and for women, sometimes due to pregnancy-induced swelling (which occasionally led to a permanent change in ring size).
(from The Ring I’m Not Wearing blog post earlier this year)

Excusez-moi, but I must confess that I love to quote moiself. Not only does it make me feel…well, quotable…it adds that certain, je ne sais quoi to my conversation. Or, in cases when I’m talking about indescribable pastries, would that be, je ne sais croissant?

 

croissantjpg

 

 

Once again, I digress. This was supposed to be a segue into MH finding a solution to his/our wedding ring dilemma, [6]  courtesy of man MH works with who recently lost a good deal of weight and thus found himself with an ill-fitting wedding ring, and came upon these (and these and these) companies who make silicon rings. Apparently, it – the market for more functional, versatile alternatives to traditional metal wedding bands  – is a thing, now.

And if it’s a thing that ends up on my and MH’s fingers, you’ll hear about it, here.  [7]

 

 

ring

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Department of Olympic Games Haiku

 

Synchronized Swimming;
Synchronized diving – both are
Olympic events.

This is a big world,
And so I wonder: why no
Synchronized croquet?

Yet again, the Russian team is accused of doping.

Once again, the Russian team is accused of doping.

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May you appreciate having true freedom to make honest choices;
may you be wary of burdens disguised as choices;
May you take trigger warnings with a grain of salt and croissants with chocolate icing;
…and may the hijinks ensue.

Thanks for stopping by.  Au Vendredi!

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[1] Which would be moiself and fellow writer SCM…and innumerable others.

[2] We need an appropriately cool acronym.

[3] My favorite of her lines, which she uses to introduce herself to new audiences who might be unnerved by her continual body tremors: “My name is Masoon Zayid, and I am not drunk, but the doctor who delivered me was.” (Zayid has cerebral palsy due to the oxygen deprivation that occurred during her delivery.)

[4] Whether on a Muslim woman or a Benedictine nun.

[5] Go ahead, google “Muslim woman beaten for not wearing ___,” but not right before bedtime or meal time.  And FFS, don’t watch the videos.

[6] MH nixed the solution posed by daughter Belle, that we have wedding rings tattooed on our respective fingers.

[7] No more footnotes, as is noted in this footnote.

The Trigger I’m Not Warning

Comments Off on The Trigger I’m Not Warning

 

Trigger warning: image of child abuse:

 

From NY Times article re the Gucci Spring 2016 collection.

From NY Times article re the Gucci Spring 2016 collection.

 

Could someone please alert UNICEF?

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A Book of Oh, Barf

“It’s tough to handle this fortune and fame,
 Everybody’s so different I haven’t changed.”
(Life’s Been Good, Joe Walsh)

Trigger warning: this post contains strong opinions, vulgarities and strong language.

 

 “I have a love/hate relationship with ____________. “

That’s what I would say; that’s the standard (read: worn out) phrase I might employ, were I to describe something about which I am ambivalent. Except that when it comes to the topic of literary fame and publicity, my feelings are definitely one-sided.

My loathing for such was rekindled Monday morning, as I thumbed through The Arts section of The NY Times, looking for the crossword and KenKen puzzles. [1] A full page ad opposite the puzzles trumpeted an upcoming reception celebrating the release of a new book by what I refer to as one of those TWAB POTS (scrambled acronym for Authors Who Have Started To Believe Their Own Publicity).  Here is the ad’s description for the book of what is likely to be a slim volume, given the subject matter: [2]

“______ (TWAB POTS’ name) has inspired millions with her wisdom, courage and honesty. Now she has selected 100 of her most popular and inspirational quotes for ______ ( pretentiously terse book title), a new volume she calls a “book of yes.”

 

I keep a barf bag close at hand, because you never know.

I keep a barf bag close at hand, because you never know.

 

“A book of yes.”

REALLY

 

Really – and, dang! Yet another of my working titles stolen. So now I have to call my collection of 100 of my most obscure and disheartening quotes, A Book of, Fuck No, What The Hell Were You Thinking?!”

Yet again, I digress.

 

likethatneverhappens

 

The ad further informed me that I may “hear the NY Times best-selling author discuss the twists and trials of her remarkable life” – an offer I shall decline, given my suspicions that author’s twists and trials have been somewhat calculated so as to procure book contracts.

Okay; I could be off-base about that previous opinion. But one thing I know for sure is that it is not good for one’s sense of self to voluntarily or otherwise [3] be subject to fawning adulation – no matter what the reason and no matter what your profession.

Honestly, how truly wise and courageous is it to allow yourself to be hyped for your wisdom, courage and honesty?

Our society revels in gleefully harping on the pomposity and egomania of celebrities. I am no exception, and oft mourned in this space what I see as the celebritization of authors.  Surrounded by such public relations horse manure hyperbole, how does or can you maintain a sense of perspective and modesty re your place in the larger world?

Fortunately (and, obviously), in my case, that question has never been put to the test. Still, were I to show up at a reading of one of my books and see a larger-than-life head-shot of me [4] on a banner, accompanied by a description of how my remarkable life and writing has inspired millions, no Sharpie ®  would go uncapped in my efforts to bring the proceedings down to earth.

 

Something like this, only even less mature.

Something like this, only even less mature.

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The Return of the Asshat

Trigger warning: this post contains opinions, language and pictures that may be offensive to people who watch reruns of Hee Haw and sigh, Now, that’s entertainment!

 

Let’s say you are a corporate CEO who employs a stable of intelligent and accomplished engineers. Do you utilize their technical experience and skills to find and/or create sources of renewable energy, or upgrade devices to remove pollutants from the air we all breathe…or maybe just design a more energy efficient window defroster?

 

VW = Veracity-Free Weasels

VW = Veracity-Free Weasels

 

Nah. You use them to cheat : Volkswagen Emissions Scandal Widens

You pay them to find a way to break the law and thus facilitate even more spewage of toxins into the atmosphere. [5]

Volkswagen, this Asshat of the Week award is for you.

 

AHat

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Department of Non Sequitur Segue to a Smoky Wee-wee Anecdote

Trigger warning: smoky wee-wee anecdote.

 

Dateline: First Day of Fall, out for my morning walk. Passing through a certain neighborhood, I noticed the air smells like what I can only imagine a bucket of piss would smell like if you put in under the lid of one of those BBQ smoker contraptions.

Not the autumnal aroma I was hoping for.

 

BBQ lovers, pull up a seat, urine for a treat.

BBQ lovers, pull up a seat, urine for a treat.

 

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Trigger warning: If you think phrases like “trigger warning” should be posted before strongly worded or controversial opinions, you shouldn’t be reading any blogs and definitely should not be browsing the internet.

 

Son K is (re) taking up fencing (he and his sister, Belle, took a fencing class many, many years ago). He has signed up for a couple of trial session with a local fencing academy, wherein one can drop in on ongoing classes. He returned home Tuesday night, after the first session, and said that although the class he attended is listed as for adults, at age twenty-two he seemed to be one of the elder class members.

When I asked if that bothered him, K smiled wryly and replied that it didn’t.  At  6 ‘3″+ he was one of the taller students in the class; thus, his reach far exceeded that of his kiddie opponents, most of whom were longtime students, obviously more experienced and skilled than he. K confessed to taking petty pleasure from sparring with the younger, shorter fencers, because at some point he’s just reach his blade over the top of their heads and, to use his sound effect, bop.

 

Here come de bop.

Here come de bop.

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Trigger warning: I really like saying bop.

I wonder if Little Bunny Foo Foo can be adapted for the scenarioI have going through my head?

You’re singing it now, admit it.

 

Little bunny foo foo, fencing through the forest....

Little bunny foo foo, fencing through the forest….

 

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Trigger warning: Giddyap, boy, head for the hills while you can – that crazy ass cowboy plans to stuff you and put you in his museum!

 

TRIGGER+DELL

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May you enjoy more than your share of petty pleasures,
may your life be trigger-warning free,
and may the hijinks ensue.

Thanks for stopping by.  Au Vendredi!

 

 

[1] Which the NYT oh-so-conveniently prints side-by-side on the same page, for us puzzle lovers.

[2] Insert hissing sound effects.

[3] I assume an author of her ilk has some input if not total approval of her own PR.

[4] For which you will never find me posing.

[5] Is this the fifth footnote? What a letdown.