I'm making the move. It's been 10 years and a whole lot of life, but I'm moving over to tumblr where I'm going to try combining real work with the fun of the internet. We'll see how it goes.
http://theoldwalkingsong.tumblr.com/
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Friday, November 11, 2011
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
“The New 52”
It’s time. I’m a comic book reader with a Ph.D. and I am (are you ready for this? It’s about to get pedantic up in here) the preeminent Wonder Woman scholar of everyone I know. There are things that need to be said about DC’s relaunch that I can’t say in comments on other people’s blogs. I’m probably going to say them again at the National Popular Culture Conference, but most of the people here won’t be there. I’ve bolded the important parts throughout for you scanner-readers.
Let me start with a summary in case you’re new to, well, the world: in September of 2011, DC—one of the “big 2”—released a new line of major comic books restarted at #1 designed to combat waning sales with “reader-friendly back stories” (salon.com). According to Jim Lee of DC the point of the relaunch gives DC the opportunity to “show how this brave new world evolves into the DCU we all know and love. By seeing them band together as the champions of the world, you’ll see the world embrace them, and the coining of the word ‘superhero’ and establishment of these as iconic and inspirational characters” (salon.com). I want you to remember that last phrase especially: “establishment of these as iconic and inspirational characters.” That’s going to figure prominently later.
Now the main controversy surrounding this relaunch is over Catwoman and Starfire. Little to nothing has been said so far about Wonder Woman, Batgirl, Supergirl, Black Canary...you can tell by my use of the ellipsis that I feel unkindly about this. There will be a “part 2” about Wonder Woman and how she got jipped. (And why more people should be upset.)
Within this controversy claims of “objectification” have been leveled as well as “sexism” and “misogyny.” I’m going to define these words before we continue because everybody needs to know what these things mean.
Objectification: a) the process whereby a person is turned into an object generally through the use of specific body parts in place of the whole person. Why it matters: if you objectify someone then you don’t have to worry about annoying things called feelings. If I’m having sex with an object, it doesn’t matter what I do to that object. It’s not a person; it doesn’t matter if I spit on it, hit it, or—we’ll keep this g rated (eh, maybe pg-13) so you can imagine any manner of other things that could be done to it. When people are objectified in text—comic books, television, cinema, books, advertising—one of the consequences is the unacknowledged consequence of objectifying real people in real life. So, when people talk about Catwoman being objectified it is upsetting because Catwoman’s existence in the comic books is purely to be sexy as opposed to intelligent, interesting, or capable. <-- This is upsetting because when female readers read themselves into the text they learn that their humanity doesn’t matter as much as their body. That makes them crazy. Heterosexual male readers learn that women’s personalities are merely the unfortunate toll that must be paid to have sex with their bodies. That makes them abusive.
Everyone still with me?
Misogyny: hatred, dislike, or mistrust of women. Objectification leads to sexism which leads to misogyny.
I took the time to explain this not because I doubt anyone’s intelligence but because I want everyone to understand how I am using these terms. So many readers/listeners/viewers shut down at all that “feminazi” talk. If only I were exaggerating. Read the comments on the links at the end and see what I mean.
Now we get into the DC relaunch proper. Let me start by saying I’m not sure I think Catwoman is objectified. I’m not sure I think she isn’t either. Before people start calling me names I wanted to make that clear. The issue is the opening sequence of Catwoman #1. The reader is treated to close up shots of her chest and ass before they ever see her face on page 3.
Page 1
Page 2
And finally page 3
So maybe she is objectified. Except Nightwing gets the same treatment:
Page 2
“Ah,” I hear you saying, “Nightwing’s pectorals aren’t depicted in the glistening sweaty gloriousness of Chippendales!”
“You’re right,” I respond. So are they both objectified? Or is what is happening to Catwoman different?
While I think entirely too much attention is attributed to Catwoman’s lingerie, unclothed body, and leather-clad posterior, I think her humanity still comes through the page because it is her voice relaying the story to the reader. Furthermore, the opening sequence of seeing parts of the hero before the full page spread is a typical rhetorical move of comics. Seeing only the pieces of Catwoman’s body, therefore, doesn’t necessarily mean she’s objectified. Seeing pieces of her unclad perky-in-ways-only-comic-books-make-them breasts does. We see Nightwing’s face—even if only a piece—on page one.
As I said before, though, the imagery of her body is offset by the strength of her narrative voice. Especially when put within the context of Catwoman’s existence as a femme fatale I’m not sure depicting her in various stages of undress removes her subjectivity. Most importantly, following this debatable opening Catwoman is on every single page of her comic book fighting, investigating, and outwitting the other characters. That would seem to offset this opening sequence. Unless you take issue with the end: (spoiler alert)
That’s right. That is Batman and Catwoman GETTING IT ON. The fangirl in me cheers. CHEERS I tell you! I don’t find this offensive IN THE LEAST. And do you want to know why? Because Catwoman instigates it. She “seduces” the Batman (he didn’t really look like he took much persuading honestly) she’s on top dominating him, and if anything he appears powerless and at a loss in this image. The fingers curled into the carpet, the splayed legs—the Batman doesn’t even know what’s happening to him. So many of the arguments I’ve seen criticizing this image seem based on the claim that because the reader sees them having sex it is somehow denigrating to Catwoman. HOW IS MAKING SEXY TIME WITH BATMAN EVER A BAD IDEA?!
It could be I’m just not feminist enough when it comes to Batman.
My point here is that while I think the opening sequence of Catwoman is problematic, I think the choices fit with her character. I also think that seeing pieces of her body doesn’t necessarily objectify her. If she had no personality (*cough* Starfire *cough*) or was drawn in awkward, unrealistic positions (*cough* Starfire *cough) I would be happier to jump on bandwagon. But while the images are racy I am just not sold that they’re sexist. Girls get to like sex too. (Especially with Batman. Duh.)
But I don’t want people to think I disagree with the articles linked below because I don’t entirely. I think what they have to say has value and is true for them. (That “for them” part matters a lot.) At the end of the day if, as a reader, you feel objectified there’s a good chance you probably are. In this case, while I don’t agree with the criticisms of Catwoman #1, I ABSOLUTELY agree with the criticisms of Red Hood and the Outlaws.
Here’s what Starfire used to look like:
Here’s her most recent incarnation:
Oh yeah. Cause I’m sure this picture was designed to make a reader wonder what her favorite band is. Her personality and superhero status is CLEARLY primary in this artistic choice.
But, again, this isn’t as clear cut as it seems.
It objectifies her and ruins her status as a hero (go back and reread that Jim Lee quote now) because no one in their right mind takes this woman seriously. Based purely on the picture above and the one below
Who you gonna call when things get real? If you say Starfire you’re lying.
But the reason her depiction is offensive it isn’t a simple matter of misogyny; rather, I would say it is because Starfire also teaches men it’s okay to be used. Discussions of her inability to remember her sexual partners and easy willingness to jump in bed with everyone (seriously—99% of her dialogue is taken up with asking Red Arrow to sleep with her) as well as her blatant statement to Roy that he didn’t matter, she wouldn’t remember him, and nothing he ever did would make him special to her, change what is supposed to be an “iconic and inspirational” character into someone so detestable she isn’t even aware of who she’s saving let alone who she’s sleeping with.
When men get taught it’s okay to be used (so long as the babe is hot enough) and women get taught that they only thing important is being beautiful enough to use men, you end up with date rape, misogyny, anorexia, and “crazy.” Despite the protestations of self-proclaimed “bad asses” around the world it is the rare person who doesn’t actually need emotional attachments. The rest of us just fool ourselves into thinking we don’t care and never stop to notice why we’re treating other people like shit. (Oops, does that raise this to an R?) It’s called the bitter pill kids, and letting Starfireites sleep with you, forget you, and dehumanize you isn’t going to be nearly as much fun in the morning as you think it’s gonna be. Let’s take a minute to talk about men’s self-respect shall we?
I know there’s at least one dude reading this going “I wouldn’t mind getting used by Starfire” and I grant you, you might not. But you’re never going to get used by Starfire a) because you’re not a superhero and b) because the male superhero physique is equally as impossible as the female superhero gravity defying chest. This means that guys and gals alike are only actually getting used by people not nearly awesome enough to qualify for the job, disrespecting each other massively and generally growing up to be awful people who do awful things. You think I’m joking? Go to a college bar and watch the meat market. That’s objectification at work.
But I’m not going to stop buying DC comics. I’m not. I love comics too much, and I want to buy Batgirl and Supergirl and Batman. I tell myself that if Red Hood and the Outlaws included a racist character—had even one of them said “faggot” or “nigger” in a way presented as acceptable to the reader—I would have put down the whole line of DC stories. I have to recognize the possibility that I don’t want to be mad and that bias is shaping my response. Regardless, I refuse to write off all DC comics because Red Hood is offensive, misogynistic, and ridiculous.
I believe this is different. Maybe because I think comic books are still one of the best avenues for change in the world alongside romance novels. I do. Millions of people read them, love them, and learn from them. If we could just change the message enough, millions of people would start thinking about heroes, love, and sexiness differently. That would trickle down to young adult fiction. That would change television. That would affect movies. Suddenly people are learning to be what they are in less bifurcated man=tough/woman=nurturing ways. I believe it can happen, but not if I give up on comics.
And certainly not If DC Comics persists in producing CRAP.
Hear that DC? How about you hire some more female writers, fire some of your really, really crappy male writers, and generally aim for a more talented production staff?
Links referenced:
http://www.comicsalliance.com/2011/09/22/starfire-catwoman-sex-superheroine/
http://io9.com/5844355/a-7+year+old-girl-responds-to-dc-comics-sexed+up-reboot-of-starfire
http://mssnarky.wordpress.com/2011/09/24/a-response-from-a-female-comic-book-fan/
http://www.bleedingcool.com/2011/09/22/no-more-mutants-52-problems-by-andrew-wheeler/
It’s time. I’m a comic book reader with a Ph.D. and I am (are you ready for this? It’s about to get pedantic up in here) the preeminent Wonder Woman scholar of everyone I know. There are things that need to be said about DC’s relaunch that I can’t say in comments on other people’s blogs. I’m probably going to say them again at the National Popular Culture Conference, but most of the people here won’t be there. I’ve bolded the important parts throughout for you scanner-readers.
Let me start with a summary in case you’re new to, well, the world: in September of 2011, DC—one of the “big 2”—released a new line of major comic books restarted at #1 designed to combat waning sales with “reader-friendly back stories” (salon.com). According to Jim Lee of DC the point of the relaunch gives DC the opportunity to “show how this brave new world evolves into the DCU we all know and love. By seeing them band together as the champions of the world, you’ll see the world embrace them, and the coining of the word ‘superhero’ and establishment of these as iconic and inspirational characters” (salon.com). I want you to remember that last phrase especially: “establishment of these as iconic and inspirational characters.” That’s going to figure prominently later.
Now the main controversy surrounding this relaunch is over Catwoman and Starfire. Little to nothing has been said so far about Wonder Woman, Batgirl, Supergirl, Black Canary...you can tell by my use of the ellipsis that I feel unkindly about this. There will be a “part 2” about Wonder Woman and how she got jipped. (And why more people should be upset.)
Within this controversy claims of “objectification” have been leveled as well as “sexism” and “misogyny.” I’m going to define these words before we continue because everybody needs to know what these things mean.
Objectification: a) the process whereby a person is turned into an object generally through the use of specific body parts in place of the whole person. Why it matters: if you objectify someone then you don’t have to worry about annoying things called feelings. If I’m having sex with an object, it doesn’t matter what I do to that object. It’s not a person; it doesn’t matter if I spit on it, hit it, or—we’ll keep this g rated (eh, maybe pg-13) so you can imagine any manner of other things that could be done to it. When people are objectified in text—comic books, television, cinema, books, advertising—one of the consequences is the unacknowledged consequence of objectifying real people in real life. So, when people talk about Catwoman being objectified it is upsetting because Catwoman’s existence in the comic books is purely to be sexy as opposed to intelligent, interesting, or capable. <-- This is upsetting because when female readers read themselves into the text they learn that their humanity doesn’t matter as much as their body. That makes them crazy. Heterosexual male readers learn that women’s personalities are merely the unfortunate toll that must be paid to have sex with their bodies. That makes them abusive.
Everyone still with me?
Misogyny: hatred, dislike, or mistrust of women. Objectification leads to sexism which leads to misogyny.
I took the time to explain this not because I doubt anyone’s intelligence but because I want everyone to understand how I am using these terms. So many readers/listeners/viewers shut down at all that “feminazi” talk. If only I were exaggerating. Read the comments on the links at the end and see what I mean.
Now we get into the DC relaunch proper. Let me start by saying I’m not sure I think Catwoman is objectified. I’m not sure I think she isn’t either. Before people start calling me names I wanted to make that clear. The issue is the opening sequence of Catwoman #1. The reader is treated to close up shots of her chest and ass before they ever see her face on page 3.
Page 1
Page 2
And finally page 3
So maybe she is objectified. Except Nightwing gets the same treatment:
Page 2
“Ah,” I hear you saying, “Nightwing’s pectorals aren’t depicted in the glistening sweaty gloriousness of Chippendales!”
“You’re right,” I respond. So are they both objectified? Or is what is happening to Catwoman different?
While I think entirely too much attention is attributed to Catwoman’s lingerie, unclothed body, and leather-clad posterior, I think her humanity still comes through the page because it is her voice relaying the story to the reader. Furthermore, the opening sequence of seeing parts of the hero before the full page spread is a typical rhetorical move of comics. Seeing only the pieces of Catwoman’s body, therefore, doesn’t necessarily mean she’s objectified. Seeing pieces of her unclad perky-in-ways-only-comic-books-make-them breasts does. We see Nightwing’s face—even if only a piece—on page one.
As I said before, though, the imagery of her body is offset by the strength of her narrative voice. Especially when put within the context of Catwoman’s existence as a femme fatale I’m not sure depicting her in various stages of undress removes her subjectivity. Most importantly, following this debatable opening Catwoman is on every single page of her comic book fighting, investigating, and outwitting the other characters. That would seem to offset this opening sequence. Unless you take issue with the end: (spoiler alert)
That’s right. That is Batman and Catwoman GETTING IT ON. The fangirl in me cheers. CHEERS I tell you! I don’t find this offensive IN THE LEAST. And do you want to know why? Because Catwoman instigates it. She “seduces” the Batman (he didn’t really look like he took much persuading honestly) she’s on top dominating him, and if anything he appears powerless and at a loss in this image. The fingers curled into the carpet, the splayed legs—the Batman doesn’t even know what’s happening to him. So many of the arguments I’ve seen criticizing this image seem based on the claim that because the reader sees them having sex it is somehow denigrating to Catwoman. HOW IS MAKING SEXY TIME WITH BATMAN EVER A BAD IDEA?!
It could be I’m just not feminist enough when it comes to Batman.
My point here is that while I think the opening sequence of Catwoman is problematic, I think the choices fit with her character. I also think that seeing pieces of her body doesn’t necessarily objectify her. If she had no personality (*cough* Starfire *cough*) or was drawn in awkward, unrealistic positions (*cough* Starfire *cough) I would be happier to jump on bandwagon. But while the images are racy I am just not sold that they’re sexist. Girls get to like sex too. (Especially with Batman. Duh.)
But I don’t want people to think I disagree with the articles linked below because I don’t entirely. I think what they have to say has value and is true for them. (That “for them” part matters a lot.) At the end of the day if, as a reader, you feel objectified there’s a good chance you probably are. In this case, while I don’t agree with the criticisms of Catwoman #1, I ABSOLUTELY agree with the criticisms of Red Hood and the Outlaws.
Here’s what Starfire used to look like:
Here’s her most recent incarnation:
Oh yeah. Cause I’m sure this picture was designed to make a reader wonder what her favorite band is. Her personality and superhero status is CLEARLY primary in this artistic choice.
But, again, this isn’t as clear cut as it seems.
It objectifies her and ruins her status as a hero (go back and reread that Jim Lee quote now) because no one in their right mind takes this woman seriously. Based purely on the picture above and the one below
Who you gonna call when things get real? If you say Starfire you’re lying.
But the reason her depiction is offensive it isn’t a simple matter of misogyny; rather, I would say it is because Starfire also teaches men it’s okay to be used. Discussions of her inability to remember her sexual partners and easy willingness to jump in bed with everyone (seriously—99% of her dialogue is taken up with asking Red Arrow to sleep with her) as well as her blatant statement to Roy that he didn’t matter, she wouldn’t remember him, and nothing he ever did would make him special to her, change what is supposed to be an “iconic and inspirational” character into someone so detestable she isn’t even aware of who she’s saving let alone who she’s sleeping with.
When men get taught it’s okay to be used (so long as the babe is hot enough) and women get taught that they only thing important is being beautiful enough to use men, you end up with date rape, misogyny, anorexia, and “crazy.” Despite the protestations of self-proclaimed “bad asses” around the world it is the rare person who doesn’t actually need emotional attachments. The rest of us just fool ourselves into thinking we don’t care and never stop to notice why we’re treating other people like shit. (Oops, does that raise this to an R?) It’s called the bitter pill kids, and letting Starfireites sleep with you, forget you, and dehumanize you isn’t going to be nearly as much fun in the morning as you think it’s gonna be. Let’s take a minute to talk about men’s self-respect shall we?
I know there’s at least one dude reading this going “I wouldn’t mind getting used by Starfire” and I grant you, you might not. But you’re never going to get used by Starfire a) because you’re not a superhero and b) because the male superhero physique is equally as impossible as the female superhero gravity defying chest. This means that guys and gals alike are only actually getting used by people not nearly awesome enough to qualify for the job, disrespecting each other massively and generally growing up to be awful people who do awful things. You think I’m joking? Go to a college bar and watch the meat market. That’s objectification at work.
But I’m not going to stop buying DC comics. I’m not. I love comics too much, and I want to buy Batgirl and Supergirl and Batman. I tell myself that if Red Hood and the Outlaws included a racist character—had even one of them said “faggot” or “nigger” in a way presented as acceptable to the reader—I would have put down the whole line of DC stories. I have to recognize the possibility that I don’t want to be mad and that bias is shaping my response. Regardless, I refuse to write off all DC comics because Red Hood is offensive, misogynistic, and ridiculous.
I believe this is different. Maybe because I think comic books are still one of the best avenues for change in the world alongside romance novels. I do. Millions of people read them, love them, and learn from them. If we could just change the message enough, millions of people would start thinking about heroes, love, and sexiness differently. That would trickle down to young adult fiction. That would change television. That would affect movies. Suddenly people are learning to be what they are in less bifurcated man=tough/woman=nurturing ways. I believe it can happen, but not if I give up on comics.
And certainly not If DC Comics persists in producing CRAP.
Hear that DC? How about you hire some more female writers, fire some of your really, really crappy male writers, and generally aim for a more talented production staff?
Links referenced:
http://www.comicsalliance.com/2011/09/22/starfire-catwoman-sex-superheroine/
http://io9.com/5844355/a-7+year+old-girl-responds-to-dc-comics-sexed+up-reboot-of-starfire
http://mssnarky.wordpress.com/2011/09/24/a-response-from-a-female-comic-book-fan/
http://www.bleedingcool.com/2011/09/22/no-more-mutants-52-problems-by-andrew-wheeler/
Saturday, June 18, 2011
I know it’s been forever since I posted, but what’s a blog for if not an on again/off again relationship? So, in honor of Vegas in the summer I give you the newest top ten list:
Top Ten Reasons I Would Marry Someone on the First Date:
10. He’s a secret agent man
Please, you’re on the run, adrenaline is pumping and not only is your well-being his top priority, but he can kill with his hands. You know what that spells? T-R-U-E-L-O-V-E
9. His sword gets bigger when he says “Thundercats.”
There are so many reasons to marry someone like this. A) He has a sword. B) It responds when he says “Thundercats.” C) He knows who the Thundercats are. D) He might just be Lion-O. The one downside is he might have bag lady fingernails/claws, but nobody’s perfect.
8. He’s a werewolf.
The only truly important question to consider here is: do you make the sexy time while he’s shape shifted?
7. He’s a vampire.
Piercing gaze? Check. Able to wear frilly shirts without irony? Check. Offers eternal life and a significant personal fortune? Check.
6. He’s a fallen angel fighting on the side of humanity.
I mean, there were so many reasons I hated Legion, but I think the thing I can never forgive, the thing that broke my spirit, was the dangling of Paul Bettany in all his Angel-hotness (shirtless with wings people. Shirtless with wings) was a lie. He was neither shirtless, nor had wings for any significant portion of time. Why does Hollywood have to destroy my dreams?
5. He tells me I’m pretty and means it.
Boys, you think we’re complicated, but what you never understood is that deep down inside--no matter how tough we are or how much we hate to cuddle--all girls want to be told they’re pretty without sleaze, mockery, or ulterior motives. I’m not one to stereotype, but I’m standing by this. Being rich helps too.
4. He’s a Master of the Universe
Let’s consider the pros and cons of this: marry a stable accountant? Marry a barbarian with a magical sword who rides a Battlecat? Hmm…decisions, decisions.
3. He can use the Force.
You move a pencil with you’re mind and/or build your own light saber and I’m yours for life. End of story.
2. He looks at me with tears in his eyes and says, “I’ve never loved before, but I’m willing to change for you.”
This is the one I’m most ashamed of. I mean, there’s a chance I would mock him ceaselessly for being so melodramatic, but honestly? Gonna swallow that hook, line, and sinker. And be divorced within a year. Never marry a man more moody than you.
1. While being chased into a mountain cave by the British he sacrifices himself to save, but not before promising: “I will find you. Stay alive, and I will find you!”
Yeah, you’d marry him too. You can deny it all you want, but I know you’re dirty secret. Daniel Day-Lewis ruined love for a whole generation of women.
Top Ten Reasons I Would Marry Someone on the First Date:
10. He’s a secret agent man
Please, you’re on the run, adrenaline is pumping and not only is your well-being his top priority, but he can kill with his hands. You know what that spells? T-R-U-E-L-O-V-E
9. His sword gets bigger when he says “Thundercats.”
There are so many reasons to marry someone like this. A) He has a sword. B) It responds when he says “Thundercats.” C) He knows who the Thundercats are. D) He might just be Lion-O. The one downside is he might have bag lady fingernails/claws, but nobody’s perfect.
8. He’s a werewolf.
The only truly important question to consider here is: do you make the sexy time while he’s shape shifted?
7. He’s a vampire.
Piercing gaze? Check. Able to wear frilly shirts without irony? Check. Offers eternal life and a significant personal fortune? Check.
6. He’s a fallen angel fighting on the side of humanity.
I mean, there were so many reasons I hated Legion, but I think the thing I can never forgive, the thing that broke my spirit, was the dangling of Paul Bettany in all his Angel-hotness (shirtless with wings people. Shirtless with wings) was a lie. He was neither shirtless, nor had wings for any significant portion of time. Why does Hollywood have to destroy my dreams?
5. He tells me I’m pretty and means it.
Boys, you think we’re complicated, but what you never understood is that deep down inside--no matter how tough we are or how much we hate to cuddle--all girls want to be told they’re pretty without sleaze, mockery, or ulterior motives. I’m not one to stereotype, but I’m standing by this. Being rich helps too.
4. He’s a Master of the Universe
Let’s consider the pros and cons of this: marry a stable accountant? Marry a barbarian with a magical sword who rides a Battlecat? Hmm…decisions, decisions.
3. He can use the Force.
You move a pencil with you’re mind and/or build your own light saber and I’m yours for life. End of story.
2. He looks at me with tears in his eyes and says, “I’ve never loved before, but I’m willing to change for you.”
This is the one I’m most ashamed of. I mean, there’s a chance I would mock him ceaselessly for being so melodramatic, but honestly? Gonna swallow that hook, line, and sinker. And be divorced within a year. Never marry a man more moody than you.
1. While being chased into a mountain cave by the British he sacrifices himself to save, but not before promising: “I will find you. Stay alive, and I will find you!”
Yeah, you’d marry him too. You can deny it all you want, but I know you’re dirty secret. Daniel Day-Lewis ruined love for a whole generation of women.
Monday, October 04, 2010
Oh Prince Adam You Stud
So I’m watching a little He-Man before class (nothing gets you ready to teach Early Modern literature like a barbarian with a big sword) and I had the thought: who decided dressing Prince Adam in pink and purple was a good idea?
I mean, maybe He-Man is supposed to represent a bear and twink in his various incarnations, but I think there’s enough there you could read him as at least bi-sexual. I mean with that much bulging masculinity can’t we imagine there’s enough to go around?
So I’m throwing this out there to the universe: what do ya’all think?
Oh yeah: and totally check this out!
So I’m watching a little He-Man before class (nothing gets you ready to teach Early Modern literature like a barbarian with a big sword) and I had the thought: who decided dressing Prince Adam in pink and purple was a good idea?
I mean, maybe He-Man is supposed to represent a bear and twink in his various incarnations, but I think there’s enough there you could read him as at least bi-sexual. I mean with that much bulging masculinity can’t we imagine there’s enough to go around?
So I’m throwing this out there to the universe: what do ya’all think?
Oh yeah: and totally check this out!
Sunday, September 26, 2010
I’ll Manifest You!
How can revising be so bloody hard?! I already wrote the stupid paper so making it sound good ought to be cake. And yet here I sit, sweating and itching no doubt getting an ulcer, completely unable to sound smart.
So let’s talk this through:
If: The Joker is cool.
And: I need to write a paper about Shakespeare.
Then: Regan from King Lear is evil,.
Therefore: Regan and the Joker…
Dammit!
Okay, I got it.
If: The Joker is evil
And: Regan is evil
Then: The Joker is like Regan
Right? Right?!
I mean, do brilliant people have this much trouble? Does brilliance just flow out of them onto a paper that makes the first editor who reads it go, “Oh! Brilliant! I must publish you!”
I mean did Foucault really ever sit in front of his typewriter and say, “I don’t want to?” Cause I’ve been sitting in my computer chair (which was really comfortable for hours 1 and 2 but as we head into hour 4 my bum is starting to ache a little) and have basically cursed, typed, deleted what I typed, cursed again, taken a shower, cursed, eaten a pot pie, typed, deleted what I typed, surfed the net, cursed one last time, and am now writing this masterful piece of literature.
Right about now you’re thinking: why am I reading this? I don’t have an answer for you. Bad things happen to good people all the time.
Why did I quit the tool factory? I mean the smell of coolant in 100 degree weather isn’t that bad is it? Making $18,000 a year is like…like…
*sigh*
If this were a John Hughes movie a hot guy would be knocking on my door right now and asking to make out with me. Then he would say something brilliant that would motivate me to finish writing, make out with me again after reading the finished product, and ask me to marry him. (At which point I would find out he was both hot and rich.) Seriously. The universe mocks me in ways even Nostradamus couldn’t have anticipated.
Alright. I’m going to do this. I’m going to write it. It will be brilliant. It will be published. And someone will pay me a lot of money very soon to teach at their college. And a hot guy will make out with me.
See, I know the secret. To make it manifest you need only threaten people with imminent bodily harm until they do what you want them to. Works every time.
This is the paper you’re looking for. This is the paper your looking for. Ewan McGregor’s in love with me. This is the paper you’re looking for…
I am Obi-Wan Kenobi. I am pensive and hot.
How can revising be so bloody hard?! I already wrote the stupid paper so making it sound good ought to be cake. And yet here I sit, sweating and itching no doubt getting an ulcer, completely unable to sound smart.
So let’s talk this through:
If: The Joker is cool.
And: I need to write a paper about Shakespeare.
Then: Regan from King Lear is evil,.
Therefore: Regan and the Joker…
Dammit!
Okay, I got it.
If: The Joker is evil
And: Regan is evil
Then: The Joker is like Regan
Right? Right?!
I mean, do brilliant people have this much trouble? Does brilliance just flow out of them onto a paper that makes the first editor who reads it go, “Oh! Brilliant! I must publish you!”
I mean did Foucault really ever sit in front of his typewriter and say, “I don’t want to?” Cause I’ve been sitting in my computer chair (which was really comfortable for hours 1 and 2 but as we head into hour 4 my bum is starting to ache a little) and have basically cursed, typed, deleted what I typed, cursed again, taken a shower, cursed, eaten a pot pie, typed, deleted what I typed, surfed the net, cursed one last time, and am now writing this masterful piece of literature.
Right about now you’re thinking: why am I reading this? I don’t have an answer for you. Bad things happen to good people all the time.
Why did I quit the tool factory? I mean the smell of coolant in 100 degree weather isn’t that bad is it? Making $18,000 a year is like…like…
*sigh*
If this were a John Hughes movie a hot guy would be knocking on my door right now and asking to make out with me. Then he would say something brilliant that would motivate me to finish writing, make out with me again after reading the finished product, and ask me to marry him. (At which point I would find out he was both hot and rich.) Seriously. The universe mocks me in ways even Nostradamus couldn’t have anticipated.
Alright. I’m going to do this. I’m going to write it. It will be brilliant. It will be published. And someone will pay me a lot of money very soon to teach at their college. And a hot guy will make out with me.
See, I know the secret. To make it manifest you need only threaten people with imminent bodily harm until they do what you want them to. Works every time.
This is the paper you’re looking for. This is the paper your looking for. Ewan McGregor’s in love with me. This is the paper you’re looking for…
I am Obi-Wan Kenobi. I am pensive and hot.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
The Year of Mystery
I should be grading (shut up!) but we’re taking a small break to discuss the awesomeness of my health issues for a second. Mostly because I think everyone else deserves to know about the tremendousness of my year.
I think I’ll name it…The Year of Mystery. That has a nice ring to it don’t you think? Kind of like a pompous literary work about a woman, alone in the world, striving to discover the secrets of her great grandmother’s past before the ghost of her long lost great uncle kills the man she loves and forces her to bear the child of a fallen angel?
So anyway, it all started last year when I went for my yearly and a week later the dear doctor called me to tell me I had abnormal cells. And she kept saying “abnormal GLANDULAR cells” as if the fact that they were glandular instead of skin cells should mean something to me. After listening to her explain things and tell me I needed to come back for this and that test I finally said, “I don’t understand.” It wasn’t the most useful comment as I clearly understood that something was amiss and I was to come back for more tests, but I couldn’t understand why she kept saying “glandular” like you might say, oh I don’t know, cancer. The dear wonderful doctor then says, “I’m not saying you have cancer,” and I’m like whoa lady! I didn’t even know we had to say you weren’t saying that! Cause really, when the doctor starts comforting you, you know you’re in trouble.
So that was like February and long about May I FINALLY get in (which by the way, now that I understand that when they say GLANDULAR they aren’t looking for pre-cancerous cells--at least that was my understanding--I will not be talked down by the nurse who assured me there was no problem with waiting) and this other doctor kept saying GLANDULAR and I’m like, “WHAT THE HECK WITH THE GLANDULAR PEOPLE?!” Apparently that’s less common which means more possibility for trouble? I still don’t understand, but I share for all you girls out there who have a similar experience because I pretty much gave myself an aneurysm trying to figure all of this out.
Anyway, he asked me if I’d ever had a baby and I, not exactly in my right state of mind, snapped, “NO!” because I felt like he was calling my cervix fat. It’s not logical. Don’t question it. And when all was said and done I did not have cancer though I do have mutated cells (let the jokes begin) and every time I go back I get a nurse that doesn’t know what’s going on who is sure I DO have cancer or at least HPV and doesn’t believe me when I try to explain that we’ve done all of this before. It’s awesome.
This gloriousness is compounded by a twitchy shoulder blade (muscle relaxers for that bad boy) and a mystery rash. I blame the mystery rash on band camp since that’s when it started, but basically I scratch myself raw about every other night. The scabs on my hands, legs, arms, and chest are super sexy. Going back to the doctor she looks at me and says, “I have no idea what that is.” Exactly the words you want to hear when the only relief to be found is under ice packs that numb the majority of your skin.
So I’m recommended to a dermatologist who can’t get me in for two weeks and at this point I just don’t have any fight left in me. They ask what’s going on and I say “itchy, painful rash” and they say “Okay, see you in two weeks!” Because apparently when I say “itchy, painful rash” that actually translates to a mild discomfort, barely noticeable symptoms with no need for urgency.
And, AND I’m sunburned. So now I can’t tell what is itchy from the rash and what is itchy from the peeling sunburn and I’m hot ALL THE TIME. For reals all the time. Like basically I sit around and sweat which, when teaching, is absolutely fabulous.
So I’m scabbed, peeling, and sweaty with mutated cells. This could be the most attractive I’ve ever been in my life. Clearly it’s time for me to make my move on Gerard Butler or Paul Telfer because when my sweaty scabby self walks up they won’t even know how to contain their tremendous love.
Seriously. Two weeks. And I have some steroid cream which kinda works but not really. She put me on the oral roids last week and that made for an insatiable appetite and some really awesome mood swings. And my students wonder why I’m short tempered.
And (because this story isn’t epic enough) I caught one of them staring at the scab on my chest yesterday and it suddenly occurred to me it looked an awful lot like rug burn.
I’m a classy dame.
I should be grading (shut up!) but we’re taking a small break to discuss the awesomeness of my health issues for a second. Mostly because I think everyone else deserves to know about the tremendousness of my year.
I think I’ll name it…The Year of Mystery. That has a nice ring to it don’t you think? Kind of like a pompous literary work about a woman, alone in the world, striving to discover the secrets of her great grandmother’s past before the ghost of her long lost great uncle kills the man she loves and forces her to bear the child of a fallen angel?
So anyway, it all started last year when I went for my yearly and a week later the dear doctor called me to tell me I had abnormal cells. And she kept saying “abnormal GLANDULAR cells” as if the fact that they were glandular instead of skin cells should mean something to me. After listening to her explain things and tell me I needed to come back for this and that test I finally said, “I don’t understand.” It wasn’t the most useful comment as I clearly understood that something was amiss and I was to come back for more tests, but I couldn’t understand why she kept saying “glandular” like you might say, oh I don’t know, cancer. The dear wonderful doctor then says, “I’m not saying you have cancer,” and I’m like whoa lady! I didn’t even know we had to say you weren’t saying that! Cause really, when the doctor starts comforting you, you know you’re in trouble.
So that was like February and long about May I FINALLY get in (which by the way, now that I understand that when they say GLANDULAR they aren’t looking for pre-cancerous cells--at least that was my understanding--I will not be talked down by the nurse who assured me there was no problem with waiting) and this other doctor kept saying GLANDULAR and I’m like, “WHAT THE HECK WITH THE GLANDULAR PEOPLE?!” Apparently that’s less common which means more possibility for trouble? I still don’t understand, but I share for all you girls out there who have a similar experience because I pretty much gave myself an aneurysm trying to figure all of this out.
Anyway, he asked me if I’d ever had a baby and I, not exactly in my right state of mind, snapped, “NO!” because I felt like he was calling my cervix fat. It’s not logical. Don’t question it. And when all was said and done I did not have cancer though I do have mutated cells (let the jokes begin) and every time I go back I get a nurse that doesn’t know what’s going on who is sure I DO have cancer or at least HPV and doesn’t believe me when I try to explain that we’ve done all of this before. It’s awesome.
This gloriousness is compounded by a twitchy shoulder blade (muscle relaxers for that bad boy) and a mystery rash. I blame the mystery rash on band camp since that’s when it started, but basically I scratch myself raw about every other night. The scabs on my hands, legs, arms, and chest are super sexy. Going back to the doctor she looks at me and says, “I have no idea what that is.” Exactly the words you want to hear when the only relief to be found is under ice packs that numb the majority of your skin.
So I’m recommended to a dermatologist who can’t get me in for two weeks and at this point I just don’t have any fight left in me. They ask what’s going on and I say “itchy, painful rash” and they say “Okay, see you in two weeks!” Because apparently when I say “itchy, painful rash” that actually translates to a mild discomfort, barely noticeable symptoms with no need for urgency.
And, AND I’m sunburned. So now I can’t tell what is itchy from the rash and what is itchy from the peeling sunburn and I’m hot ALL THE TIME. For reals all the time. Like basically I sit around and sweat which, when teaching, is absolutely fabulous.
So I’m scabbed, peeling, and sweaty with mutated cells. This could be the most attractive I’ve ever been in my life. Clearly it’s time for me to make my move on Gerard Butler or Paul Telfer because when my sweaty scabby self walks up they won’t even know how to contain their tremendous love.
Seriously. Two weeks. And I have some steroid cream which kinda works but not really. She put me on the oral roids last week and that made for an insatiable appetite and some really awesome mood swings. And my students wonder why I’m short tempered.
And (because this story isn’t epic enough) I caught one of them staring at the scab on my chest yesterday and it suddenly occurred to me it looked an awful lot like rug burn.
I’m a classy dame.
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