Monday, November 30, 2009

I'm down on my knees


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No one is

afraid of heights, they are afraid of the fall, No one is afraid to play, they are afraid to lose, no one is afraid of the dark, they are afraid of what's in it, no one is afraid to say "I love you", they are afraid of the response.
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Thursday, November 26, 2009

Imagine you’re sailing

to a new home overseas when the unthinkable happens: shipwreck. Somehow in all the chaos, you manage to find a lifeboat and scramble aboard with only a backpack containing your laptop, CDs, and DVDs. After several days at sea on the verge of death, you finally float ashore an uncharted island, where you find people in a primitive society without electricity. They ask if you need food and water. “Yes, please,” you gasp. “Fine, what do you have to trade?” Shocked, you eagerly show your electronics. “That is of no use to us. Do you have anything else?” Realizing they’re serious, you ask if you can roam the island for food. “No,” they reply, “All this belongs to us. Go find your own island.” Then, in stunned disbelief, you watch them turn and leave you to die amidst your useless wealth. After considering the obvious evil of this example, I have a simple question. Just how sure are you that it’s perfectly okay for you to enjoy all those electronic gadgets while so many people in this world don’t have food and clean water?
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Happy Thanksgiving.

At the very

heart of sexist thought is the assumption that the bodies we are born with ought to dictate our character, our behaviour, our appearance, our choices, the nature of our relationships and the work of our lives. At the very heart of feminism is the still-radical notion that this is not the case. Feminism holds that gender identity, rather than being written in our genes, is an emotional, personal and sexual state of being that can be expressed in myriad different ways that encompass and extend beyond the binary categories of ‘man’ and woman’. Feminism holds that prescribed gender roles are a tyranny that no-one - whether trans, cis, male, female or intersex - should be forced to conform to in order to prove their identity, their validity or their human worth.
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Tuesday, November 24, 2009

While, undoubtedly, there

must still be concerns about how genuine the welfare-based aims of the MENS society and their Oxford brethren may prove to be, it seems that a whole lot of valuable feminist energy has been directed at prohibiting groups like these – and to what end? Now the MENS society is formally established (and making national headlines to boot), it seems that all that has been achieved is a rather soured relationship between those defending women's rights and those who would tackle enduring male stereotypes. Hardly a brick in the road to true gender equality.
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Sunday, November 22, 2009

we are used

to seeing straight men’s goofy, unrealistic sexual fantasies. They are everywhere, all the time. Beer commercials, magazines, Michael Bay movies, porn obviously. We’re used to having female characters flattened out, falsified, emptied out and filled up again with a boundless desire to satisfy men’s needs for no apparent reason. We’re used to the fact that straight male sexual fantasy scenarios (or, at least, sexual fantasies marketed to straight men: and, hey, a lot of dudes are buying them) are cartoonish, in poor taste, unsophisticated, weird. We’re used to expressions of desire, public expressions, aimed at women the desire-expressers have never met and will never sleep with and will probably never even see in all three dimensions, outside of a movie screen or photograph or TV set – discussions of whether the men in question would, in fact, “hit that” or whatnot – and to the sale of those bodies, or at least images and facsimiles thereof. The Twilight sparkle dildo exists in a world where Jenna Jameson was, for a time, selling a replica of her own vagina as a masturbatory aid. (And, you know, I’d Google it, to prove this to you? But I am writing this in a coffee shop, so. Do your own research.)
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<3


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Speed Star

He left the bloodstains on the carpet


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Why is sex

work necessarily more degrading than working at McDonalds, or a Dunkin Donuts for that matter? Both involve the sale of ones body, and labour power to a certain degree. Both involve not being adequately compensated vis a vis profits versus wage, yet pornography is deemed horribly degrading. I submit that this because womens sexuality is only culturally acceptable when it is virginal in nature. Good girls, or authentic women don’t actually enjoy performing sex acts, or participating in any form of voyeurism. Certainly there are women working in the porn industry that are not happy about that choice but not all women feel that way. If you ask Walmart workers, I some will tell you that they are not happy working there either.
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Friday, November 20, 2009

So I slip on my yellow galoshes


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Make the female sexy


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Remember that you

are not in a contest. You are in a discussion. You are trying to work WITH your partner, not AGAINST her. When it’s a straight-out fight, you are trying to understand each other’s sides, and come to an agreeable conclusion for the both of you — which won’t happen if you’re just trying to “win.” When it’s a topical conversation, you’re sharpening your thinking and communication skills, working on understanding each other’s viewpoints, learning from one another, etc. — again, it’s not a contest you’re trying to “win.” It’s a conversation. Treat it that way.
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Wednesday, November 18, 2009

We are faced

with the paradoxical fact that education has become one of the chief obstacles to intelligence and freedom of thought.
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Tuesday, November 17, 2009

et nous ne sommes pas à paris nous sommes dans la vie


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You can talk

the talk but you can’t walk the walk. Unless you’re wearing a tight skirt and you’re walking in front of me.
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Este Mundo

Like some boys tend to act like queens


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Rewolf

Intercourse occurs in

a context of a power relation that is pervasive and incontrovertible. The context in which the act takes place, whatever the meaning of the act in and of itself, is one in which men have social, economic, political, and physical power over women. Some men do not have all those kinds of power over all women; but all men have some kinds of power over all women; and most men have controlling power over what they call their women—the women they fuck. The power is predetermined by gender, by being male.
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The mysterious host

asked the Italian hospitality agency for "500 attractive girls between 18 and 35 years of age, at least 1.7 metre high", and if the women who answered the call were in the dark about their duties, they must have felt confident that the event would be an interesting one.
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Protest against sexual harassment


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GREY: I think

80 percent of what we see on television is pornographic. And this is the same thing that Larry Flynt and Hugh Hefner were talking about when they started out. We’re in wars and we watch people get killed and there are video clips of people being beheaded on the Internet, but we laugh and joke about that. At the same time we’re still so sexually repressed. But somehow the violence is more acceptable. People complain about adult film, but I’m much more worried about people becoming numb to violence than numb to sex.
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Monday, November 16, 2009

I could win the world


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I returned to

Rancho Cucamonga. I could not stop thinking about her! I wrote her a passionate email revealing my love for her. Her first response was short and formal. So I wrote her more emails. Each of her responses was shorter and colder. Eventually, she told me to stop contacting her any more.
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Totoro


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Thursday, November 12, 2009

Have you ever

been in love? Horrible isn’t it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life…You give them a piece of you. They didn’t ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn’t your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like ‘maybe we should be just friends’ turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It’s a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.
– Neil Gaiman
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Wednesday, November 11, 2009

I get eleven points off the word quagmire


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What stands out

in this excerpt is Rodman’s call for a new kind of man. After a night in 1993 in which he nearly committed suicide, Rodman chose to “kill the imposter”: “I killed the Dennis Rodman that had tried to conform to what everybody wanted him to be.” His transformation—most strikingly in personality and physical appearance—went completely against the NBA’s preferred image. Bleached hair, wild tattoos, diverse and unexpected outfits off the court, Rodman outwardly projected the multi-faceted personality he had always been.
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Another top ten sexist man of all time. <3

But said thoughtful,

feminist men don't necessarily have to offer a new masculinity - rather, they can simply teach that how men understand their gender is up to them, and that they shouldn't feel the need to fit themselves into any particular mold. This might be difficult — young people, despite their protestations of rebellion, kind of like molds — but it would move us one step closer to a world in which gender was an opportunity for self-expression, not a cage of expectations. The lack of a new paradigm for masculinity may look like emptiness, but it's also freedom.
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But the girls who fight with the tomorrow


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Sunday, November 8, 2009

In countries all

over the world today, women live with the threat, or consequences, of female genital mutilation.

In Africa alone an estimated 3 million girls and women are subjected to the practice each year, and some 92m of the continent's female population are estimated to have been victims of FGM.

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I'm starving for words that would ration my sadness away


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Friday, November 6, 2009

Is it so

wrong, wanting to be at home with your record collection? It's not like collecting records is like collecting stamps, or beermats, or antique thimbles. There's a while world in here, a nicer, dirtier, more violent, more peaceful, more colorful, sleasier, more dangerous, mor eloving world than the world I live in; there is history, and georgraphy, and poetry, and countless other thing I should have studied at school, including music.
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Thursday, November 5, 2009

Good evening, London.

Allow me first to apologize for this interruption. I do, like many of you, appreciate the comforts of every day routine- the security of the familiar, the tranquility of repetition. I enjoy them as much as any bloke. But in the spirit of commemoration, thereby those important events of the past usually associated with someone’s death or the end of some awful bloody struggle, a celebration of a nice holiday, I thought we could mark this November the 5th, a day that is sadly no longer remembered, by taking some time out of our daily lives to sit down and have a little chat.

There are of course those who do not want us to speak. I suspect even now, orders are being shouted into telephones, and men with guns will soon be on their way. Why? Because while the truncheon may be used in lieu of conversation, words will always retain their power. Words offer the means to meaning, and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth. And the truth is, there is something terribly wrong with this country, isn’t there? Cruelty and injustice, intolerance and oppression. And where once you had the freedom to object, to think and speak as you saw fit, you now have censors and systems of surveillance coercing your conformity and soliciting your submission. How did this happen? Who’s to blame? Well certainly there are those more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable, but again truth be told, if you’re looking for the guilty, you need only look into a mirror. I know why you did it. I know you were afraid. Who wouldn’t be? War, terror, disease.

There were a myriad of problems which conspired to corrupt your reason and rob you of your common sense. Fear got the best of you, and in your panic you turned to the now high chancellor, Adam Sutler. He promised you order, he promised you peace, and all he demanded in return was your silent, obedient consent. Last night I sought to end that silence.

Last night I destroyed the Old Bailey, to remind this country of what it has forgotten. More than four hundred years ago a great citizen wished to embed the fifth of November forever in our memory. His hope was to remind the world that fairness, justice, and freedom are more than words, they are perspectives. So if you’ve seen nothing, if the crimes of this government remain unknown to you then I would suggest you allow the fifth of November to pass unmarked. But if you see what I see, if you feel as I feel, and if you would seek as I seek, then I ask you to stand beside me one year from tonight, outside the gates of Parliament, and together we shall give them a fifth of November that shall never, ever be forgot.”

— V.

Monday, November 2, 2009

So if you

speak to a woman who is otherwise occupied, you’re sending a subtle message. It is that your desire to interact trumps her right to be left alone. If you pursue a conversation when she’s tried to cut it off, you send a message. It is that your desire to speak trumps her right to be left alone. And each of those messages indicates that you believe your desires are a legitimate reason to override her rights.
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Perhaps one way

of resolving this dilemma would be for all future fashion spreads to come with a rape-risk warning, with different outfits rated on a scale of one to 10 as to their likelihood of turning your average man - who's of course genetically programmed to lose all capacity for rational moral judgement at the mere sight of some toe-cleavage - into a frothing, violent rut-monkey.
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Face Hunter



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Tenderest touch leaves the darkest of marks


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