Saturday, 22 October 2011

Oh....THAT "F" Word

I have always considered myself a feminist, and for the most part I thought most women were. But the idea of feminism has been contorted over and over and over again rendering the concept nothing more but a picture of a frozen, man-hating bitch who just wants to take men down. I think this is a big shame, and it makes me feel disappointed and frustrated when I mention my passion for feminism or when someone asks, and I catch a glimpse of their facial expression right before they change the subject, or ask me why I hate men. lol It is just so ridiculous to me, because I never understood why this is the usual response. But then I took what could have been a great class-unfortunately taught by a notoriously bad Professor-and everything started to make sense...

Taking Women and Gender studies during my first year in University left a bitter taste in my mouth. My only memories of so-called empowered females were those close-minded women who infested the seats of the WGS200 course that I took first year. Those same women who made me rethink my entire idea of feminism within a few short months. My views on feminism before taking the class were based on equality, and a woman's right to choose. But the only themes that seemed to linger within the confines of the class were that of a feminist utopian society where males did not exist. Even more unsettling was the idea put forth that if you hold any traditionally true feminine qualities and liked yourself, you are not a true feminist. 


As I do enjoy playing devil’s advocate when my sanity and values are held at stake, I often challenged authority in the classroom and once (or twice...) in a tutorial session, I was subsequently asked to leave the class until I “cooled down.” One of those times, I really thought I would be castrated by a heard of stampeding angry self-proclaimed feminists. I began to view the feminist persona as an ice-cold ideal held high by women frozen in their stubbornness and sexist thought patterns. In my eyes, these women were simply acting towards men in the same way they claimed men were acting towards women. Things like prostitution, pornography, and being a house wife were talked about with disgust and viewed as being a stab at feminism as a whole, and an overall disgrace to being a strong woman. 


This really confused me, because I had spent all of my life envisioning feminism as a place where women encourage and celebrate other women in whatever venture or avenue they want to pursue. If a woman chooses to be a prostitute, to get an abortion, to be promiscuous, or to be a house wife, what business is it of ANYONE to tell her otherwise? Or even worse, to tell her that what she wants or chooses isn't good enough? It's her body, its her life, its her damn choice! 


At the time, I was a child of Psychology (and still am), so I tried to reason and understand the science of the what these women around me were trying to force down my throat, but in the end, I found in order to achieve good marks and not be targeted in class, I had to assimilate my ideals, beliefs and love of some of the greatest minds of Psychology (i.e. Freud) in order to be accepted. I swore to no longer advertise myself as a feminist because I understood now where those facial expressions came from and why they were commonplace. I never wanted anyone to ever associate me with any of the values and beliefs encompassed within that first year course. 


Never could I imagine that four years later, I would resort to taking WGS205 as a filler course and as a result, have my constructed views and distaste for the “frozen feminist” as I once called her, to be once again broken and rebuilt into something beautiful. Sitting uncomfortably in the front seat of the class, I was shocked upon hearing the Prof. Doctor Radia openly introduce the course with differentiating between mass culture and popular culture, and then encouraging us to envision our own understanding of what the terms mean to us. 


Beginning with our first discussion, I noticed a dramatic change in structure of the course. Of course there were still those who had not changed from first year (those who held the same concrete and hypocritical views), but there were also a lot more women who thought like me. Women who were not looked down upon or burned for sharing their opinions and visions of choice and freedom for women. Compared to the overly organized, constrained, and limited atmosphere of the first year course four years prior, WGS205 opened up possibilities of thought and arguments from every angle, where each was presented with understanding and intrigue. Doctor Radia was charming, warm and non-threatening, quoting thought provoking series, empirically scientific articles (which were rarely raised first year), and to my pleasant surprise, she even quoted Sigmund Freud on a couple of occasions. I became excited to attend class and felt at ease sharing my thoughts and opinions without fear of judgment or retribution. 


I remember the second week in class inspired an analytical spirit in me that peaked its head for the first time as we sat and watched the opening scenes of Pocahontas. Although somewhere within my mind I knew that passed the entertainment and the cute characters, the function of Disney movies were to educate children, I never really sat down and pondered what the films were actually educating. Things that were staring me right in the face never really surfaced until it was brought up and discussed. 


For example, when we began watching Pocahontas, all the sexualized and gendered aspects in the film became salient after discussion. Most shocking was the distinct difference in picture, colour and music when shifting between the grey and dull “western culture” where John Smith and his mates crudely sing about killing natives to the colourful and music-filled scenes of the “New world.” Watching and discussing the themes that varied between John Smith and Pocahontas made me want to go home and revisit my old Disney VHS tapes to try and pick up on the blatant gender differences that I could easily find when I no longer looked at these films through the eyes of a toddler. I was also taken aback by Dundes' (2001) article, which I found furthered points made in class and allowed me to better understand the material, although I did find that Dundes was annoyingly one-sided in some of her arguments. 


However, what was interesting was the point Dundes made in that from childhood, girls are taught to be selfless and constrained in everything that they do while boys’ actions are dismissed under the “boys will be boys” sanction. In fact, in a lot of these films, the boys are praised, or regarded as heroes by doing really reckless shit. She uses the example of how John Smith jumps off the ship during a major storm at the beginning of the film only to be promoted and called a hero by all of his crew mates. The viewers watching feel immediately like 'wow, this guy is so adventurous and fearless.' But not two minutes later, Pocahontas jumps off a cliff into calm water, and her friend asks her when she is going to stop being so immature? Although the viewer finds her quirky and fun at first, her actions are presented in a static way, hinting at the underlying fact that she is still young, immature, and will have to change eventually. In other words, she still has a lot of growing to do....apparently nothing that Mr. Smith's dick can't fix. 


Even more staggering was the statement Dundes made regarding culture’s growing expectations of women in today's supposedly "equal" Western society. She claims that although women are now encouraged and expected to be independent and strong career women, underlying signals to be a good wife, mother and provider are still present, thus creating what I like calling, a double-edged sword. More specifically, it's because mothers now encourage their little girls to take advantage of more and more opportunities in life that adds to women’s ever-increasing pressures to succeed. 


Because on top of being an independent, strong, well-rounded career woman, she is also expected to be a perfect wife and mother. And all before she turns 30!!! When women feel that they cannot succeed in all these avenues adequately (because no human being can!!!), or they hold one avenue (i.e. having a career) with more importance than the other (i.e. being a mother), they believe they have failed. It is a sick, sad, and relentless cycle that is in reality only strengthening over time, but this in itself is hard to see, because all of this is being expertly masked with a veil of "independence" and "Oh look how far we've come" slogans. We still have a hell of a long way to go in my opinion. 


My hope is that women who choose to reproduce, raise their daughters with their best and unique interests at heart. All we can really do, regardless of the child's sex, is to provide guidance, and let him/her make their own choices, regardless of whether or not you (as a parent) agree with their choices in the end. And needless to say, keep your morals, or religious pre-determined expectations completely out of it for fucks sake. To women reading this blog, do what you choose to do: whether that be going into pornography, becoming a C.E.O. having 5 children and settling down, or getting your tubes tied, just do it. It is your body, and it is your life. No one can ever tell you otherwise.                                                                                                                                                                    

Anyway, I am off to bed. I really hope I got my point across at least half-decently.

Todays Tea: Pai Mu Tan White tea.

Monday, 17 October 2011

Beautiful

My friend sent me the link to this video, and I would write a description of it and why it moved me so much, but I think it more than speaks for itself. So, I'll let it.



Todays Tea: Matcha green

Sunday, 18 September 2011

Glorified Misery



Forget the mirror of your former self and just relish in the day
forget the beauty of his face and the scars that went away
forget the rudeness in his eyes, the bitter taste of it all
dont even think of all the lies and the unrequited calls

Pay no mind to your mother's absence or your little brother's remains
do not weep over the your war-torn country and all its bloody stains
forget the wave of relentless violence and the echoes of their cries
dismiss the graveyard at your doorstep where all the innocent lie

Don’t linger on the rapists' eyes as he held you against your will
forget the fear that rippled through you as he went in for the kill
erase the sight of your shattered youth as he violated you for good
forget your future wasted years and those who never understood

Forget the beatings you absorbed for admitting you were gay
don’t fret about all the cruelty you endured each single day
get over your parents anger and all the hatred they let out
dismiss the times you ran away because all they did was shout

Try to overlook the darkness while on the streets where you lay
don't think about your broken home and why you couldn’t stay
forget the pain that tears you up inside and the loneliness you felt
pay no mind to the freezing cold or the snow that will not melt

Forget all these vile memories, and thank your god for your puny life
its all a part of his sadistic plan so smile and praise him for your strife
all this misery, pain, and aguish must be leading to some better place
so ask no questions, keep your mouth shut and remember:
God works in mysterious ways?

-Mandy

Todays Tea: Sencha green

Saturday, 27 August 2011

Thought as I was, young. Thought as I was.

I think it would be relatively easy to become a parent, and that is a frightening thought. All around the world, unwanted children are being pushed out of mothers' birth canals only to be given up or ultimately fucked over by inconsiderate parenting. And the world population continues to grow like a quickly escalating fungus. There is a shit load of crap in the world that I feel like I should be actively working toward-trying to make it better. Killing babies and so on. Fighting idiots clutching onto bibles and korans, and things of this sort. But my egocentrism is disturbing and the fact that I can admit that is hopefully a sign indicating I am closer than ever to killing it. Preoccupation with relationships, alcohol, and what item of clothing I should have in my closet are really taking away from my goals.


I keep picturing my future and I am almost certain what I want it to consist of but I am unsure of who I want it to consist of. If I have no interest in pro-creating, I often wonder if there is a point to being faithful to one person. I would never cheat (at least again) on someone I care about but, I would tell them if I were thinking about it. Which I often do. And I think this will be my downfall, the reason people will not trust me or get close to me, even though I think inherently I crave it. 


I can't help escape the feeling-the same feeling that I have felt for a long time now. The feeling that good things are happening everywhere else but where I am. It reminds me of one of Douglas Adams many brilliant characters. I think he was in so long and thanks for all the fish. The personal raincloud guy, who didn't know why, but he was absolutely convinced that no matter where he was, rain followed him. He was sure, and he had proof. Everywhere he went, he would tell people that rain follows him, and when they asked him why he thought that, he'd point to the grey pouring skies above him and say, "See?" But the tragedy I think was that the person listening at the time would laugh, take it as a joke and just assume he was exaggerating, as did the last person, and the person before that, and the person before that. All of them unaware of the long string of conversations Mr. Personal Raincloud (lets call him that) has had with a series of different people in very different places, all of which were raining when he was in them. Without the evidence for the validity in Mr. Raincloud's complaints, his story at first arouses humor, but when he sticks to this story, unwavering, this humor quickly turns to annoyance as soon as those he is speaking to associate him with egocentrism. Egocentrism. We have come full circle. But with the right background knowledge, and evidence that he is in fact not bullshitting, I can't help but think that the only response left for someone to have in a conversation with Mr. Raincloud is pity. Or empathy. 


If given the choice, I think he would (as would I) stick with humor. Silently believing your right but not knowing for sure is more comforting. People laugh, and a small part of you assumes that maybe you are not right. Maybe you are exaggerating, you tell yourself but never out loud. Pity. Pity on the other hand would make things all too real. It would seal your fate. I think this is why religious people may be happier than us atheists. They dislike the laughing, the humor that arouses from their beliefs but they would take that any day over pity or otherwise. But nonbelievers, we have the evidence, we have moved passed humor, and know egocentrism cannot exist when you are as insignificant as we know human beings are. Any feelings or desires revolving around our personal happiness or future seem ultimately futile when the destination at the end of our journey is our own bodies shutting off and becoming brain food for worms. And still, believe it or not, I prefer this. I embrace this and I do not fear death. Let them all think the rain clouds are following them while they still can. 


I'm tired.


Todays Tea: Sencha Green with herbs.

Saturday, 20 August 2011

Crackle

I really like this line:


"You get so alone at times that is just makes sense."
-charles Bukowski




Todays Tea: Sencha green with thyme and sage leaves

Thursday, 4 August 2011

Lovely Jordan and Some Related Rantings

So I am in Jordan, and I am ashamed that I have not uploaded a blog so far during the time that I have been here. So I suppose I should start now. 


I am staying with my wonderfully hospitable relatives while I am here, and I am loving the change in scenery, heat, and culture thus far. Jordan is a really beautiful place that is the most safe area in the middle east as of right now, along with Lebanon. Syria was on this list as well but the current demonstrations and violence have removed it for the time being at least.

But back to Jordan. Since I have been here, I have seen Petra, I have been to the Dead Sea, Aqaba, and Wadi Rum. I loved each place, particularly Wadi Rum (an oasis in the middle of the desert) mainly because of the party atmosphere, amazing sunsets, and starry, starry skies, which made me well up a little, I'll admit. The shopping in Jordan is very affordable, and people are ALWAYS willing to negotiate the price of an item. The difficulty is that if you dont speak Arabic or have someone who speaks Arabic with you, you WILL get stiffed at EVERY purchase you make. They take advantage of any foreign people and up the price of everything. But when merchants see you speak Arabic, they are way more realistic and flexible with prices. Therefore, I would advise any of those interested in visiting the beautiful country to bring someone who can speak the language, translate, and things along these lines. Speaking of the prices, cigarettes are very cheap. Like I am talking 1.35 JD which I think converts to something like $1.90 CAN (but don't quote me on that). Regardless, they are cheap, and for this reason (and the mere fact that I am on vacation, I started smoking again unfortunately. BUT it is only for the trip. I will consider myself smoke free again once I am back on Canadian soil. 

The weather is obviously scorching hot during the daytime, but delightfully cool and perfect at night. I am of course a lover of winter however, so the weather here is not exactly striking my fancy, even though I have gotten a much needed tan since I have been here. All and all, it has been a lovely time spent in the country. Having said that, being here really drove home my life long belief that Religion is a fucking stupid man-made excuse for a way of life, which makes people act in even more fucking stupid ways. First, I want to discuss the Christians who live here (which encompass about 4% of the population). Now this group really couldn't give a shit less about what women wear, ect...But they (as well as the Muslims here) are COMPLETELY obsessed with marriage and having kids. IT IS ALL THEY TALK ABOUT AT GATHERINGS. Which for anyone that knows me, will understand when I say I wanted to blow the back of my head off most times. If I had a dollar for every time someone asked me, "When are you getting married?" or "Are you interested in staying in Jordan to find a husband?" I would have enough money to buy a really nice house here in Amman. I am not exaggerating. I went from answering them using quiet compliance to just blatantly saying, "No" and changing the subject. At one point, a woman came over here to the house I am staying at with her 29 year old son in hopes that I would marry him and take him to Canada with me. I almost spit out my whiskey (which they drink A LOT of here lol). Her son turned out to be really cool (despite being really old fashioned), and told me he was still in love with his ex-girlfriend and wants to get her back. Apparently things "could" not work out because she was Muslim and he was Christian. It sounded like a Romeo and Juliet story as he was describing it to me. I told him just run away together, but I realize now I may have been over-simplifying things slightly.

Speaking of the Muslims here (particularly the men, who are laughable to say the least), I have one thing to say. This is the same thing that i have probably said 347 times since I arrived here: Take A Picture

Look, I want to make it clear to women and men alike, in Jordan, unless you are wearing a black bedsheet/garbage bag...oops I mean a burka, expect to be gawked at. And by gawked at I mean GAWKED at, like a hawk is watching you. No matter where you go in Jordan, there is always some one staring hardcore at you, or saying something to you, or in extreme cases budging you or pulling at your clothes as you pass by (which thankfully the latter extreme cases have not happened to me). But for these reasons, everyday before I leave the house, I have to ask my cousin if what I am wearing is okay. In in most cases it is, but I just get a few stares here and there. However, in certain parts of Amman that we go to (such as the downtown area), I was told that it was imperative for my safety to wear jeans and a t-shirt or a tank top with a light jacket to go on top of it. THIS IS IN 40 DEGREE WEATHER!!! And this is what really fucking ticked me off about it all! The Muslim men are out wearing whatever the hell they want, and I have to cover up lest my ankles and shoulders drive them into crazy lust. Like it is a fucking joke! And its not the only thing, just looking at some of these Muslim women made me hot. There are four types of Muslim women here that I have encountered during my time here:

1) The one that will wear the black burka covering her entire body except her eyes.
2) The one that will wear I am assuming to be normal clothes but with a cotton/fabric trench coat over top of her clothes which covers her all the way down to her heels. As well as the hijab.
3) The one that will wear jeans, and a long sleeve top that covers her to her wrists, as well as a hijab.
4) The one that will wear jeans and a long sleeve top but without a hijab (this last category is VERY rare. I may have seen a total of 12 women wear this,and I have been here for 3 weeks so far.)

This wouldn't bother me so much if I didn't encounter a million stares a day from women and men both looking at me like a prostitute because I am wearing skirts, t-shirts or tank tops. Or even more aggravating were those who muttered to themselves regarding my clothes, or said in Arabic "Where is your hijab?" as I walked by. And to this, I was told by my cousins to not say anything. Just ignore it or say "God willing" in Arabic to every comment made. Just grin and bear it so to speak. Well fuck your non-existent God, and fuck you. 

It can all be very frustrating. not to mention being woken up every morning at 4AM because of the insensitive group of Muslims who decided it would be appropriate to blast morning prayer from every mosque, just in case some Muslim forgets or sleeps in. And to pile on the in-sensitivities even more, right now it is during Ramadan so it is "forbidden" to eat, drink, or smoke in the streets, restaurants, or stores during the day (when the sun is out). If you do, a police officer can freely approach you and demand to see your license (which states which Religion you belong to-there are only two choices-the perverted and delusional mess that is Christianity or the laughable and stupid Islam). If the officer sees that you are christian, they usually just apologize and dismiss you, but if they see that you are Muslim, they have the right to take you straight to jail, and keep you as long as they wish.

All in all, I will really hate to leave my cousins and relatives in one weeks time (especially my beautiful, strong, and good-hearted cousin Areen), but I will be relieved to be back in Canada, where I plan to dress provocatively, go to a strip club, get piss drunk until 2AM, and then have a big greasy meal at Dennys. Mmmmmm.

Anyway, I am off to bed. I am trying to race to bed before those goddamn annoying mosque anthems start.

Night.
Today's Tea: Orange Pekoe ...because it is the only tea people drink here :(

Tuesday, 7 June 2011

Realistic Vampires? Finally!!

Anyone who is completely sick of vampires, the whole vampire redundant story, and the damn bandwagon it rode in on, should watch the movie "Let Me In." Saying that it was brilliant would be a monumental understatement. Ever since I watched "Interview with the vampire" many, many years back, I have been thoroughly obsessed with the idea of vampires and their general allure. 

But I noticed, as I am sure most people will agree, that vampires are completely romanticized in film and literature. The immortal beings are seen as these beautiful, all powerful beings that are sex crazed and occasionally feast on human blood. The whole advent of the "good" vampire feeding on animal blood as opposed to human blood (thanks to the market savvy mind of Stephanie Meyer) has transformed vampires into beings equivalent to disobedient puppies that can be trained. "Let me In" however, brilliantly rips this aforementioned presentation into shreds and then takes a shit on it. I don't want to give anything away but the film leaves the viewer inundated with morbid pity and sadness for the life of the vampire, rather than fascination and desire which are commonplace emotions in relation to the mainstream vampires we are all accustomed to. 

In my humble opinion, it is the most accurate representation of what it would be like if vampires really did exist, and if you happened to know one. With the difficult task of bringing the novel "Let the right one in" by John Lindqvist to life, Matt Reeves is genius as the director of the film. He strikingly breaks all of my prior beliefs and images of the bloodsucker being and has me torn between the best interests of the two main characters while at the same time rooting for both the "good" guy and the "bad" guy simultaneously. 

Despite being fantastically blood filled, graphic (without a HINT of overdone visual effects or Hollywood fakeness), and un-apologetically sincere, the film at its very core, is a love story of the most honest and innocent variety. Developing the relationship between 12 year old mysterious Abby and 12 year old loner and bullied Owen was executed smoothly and was genuinely believable. I think that this is probably the take home message: It was totally believable, despite being a film about a fictional creature. A true masterpiece, and definitely a film you will want in your collection.

In slightly less important news, I am going to Jordan for 3 weeks in July. This is certain. What is uncertain is whether or not I will be able to sneak away to Greece for one of those weeks. It will only be a 2 hour distance, and I am sure I can find a decent hotel. I am staying with family in Jordan so I am happy to report that this trip will most certainly not leave me broke. It will also not leave me hitched, although that really is what my parents are hoping for lol. We will see anyway :)

Now, to bed.
Next blog will be the about the complete self-denial and pathetic imagination characteristic of the mind of the self-proclaimed "born-again christian." Should be a hoot to write.

Mandy

Todays Tea: Jasmine Green