femminista: thoughts of a feminist rhetorician

The internet is an amazing rabbit hole. You follow a path of links and they lead you to a place that you didn't know existed (yet are unsurprised to find). As it turns out, the rape culture reality that exists in the F2F fleshy world is thriving and prospering in its cyber-counterpart. In researching the attacks of Anonyomous, whose aim is not explicitly anti-feminist and anti-woman (although it clearly is if you look at actions and statements; in other words, Anonymous doesn't have a centralized mission statement that is hostile towards women), I found a plethora of blogs who are outwardly hateful in ways that make me incredibly sad. I'm alternately stunned and disappointed, shocked and resigned, angered and saddened by these blogs and websites.

For the past couple of weeks I've walked through the Stewart Center while on my way from teaching to my next caffeine dose.  (Today I took that route to avoid the cold for a few minutes)  And each time I walk through, I note the weary looking protesters and wonder a few things:  Have they been there for the entire time, without break, and if so, do they have the support of their professors?  What about the bathing issue?  How long can someone maintain a hunger strike without causing physiological damage?  And, perhaps most importantly, why does the administration refuse to discuss change?  Is this a we don't negotiate with terrorists thing?  Refusing to deal with sweatshops constitutes sound and ethical business practice.  Doesn't th

I refuse to be silent. To worry and avoid and fear speaking truth. I am not a shy person, certainly not a person who has trouble speaking her mind. But there are things that I keep hidden from the world. I'm a terrible liar, but a convincing actress. The name of my famous curtain calls--healthy cat. It's true; every day I perform the role of "normal." Not in the plain vanilla way. No one would ever accuse me of being boring or, to be honest, even normal in most of its senses. No, my performance of normal is much more specific, more "rocky road" than vanilla. I play the role of the fully able-bodied, healthy young woman. I have done so for almost twenty eight years. But now, as I prepare to enter the twenty-ninth year, I note that my costume is ragged at the edges; there are tears in the bodice and on the sleeves; my makeup is wearing thin; my hair falling out. This show cannot go on.

Struggling towards what, you ask. I'm not sure how to answer that question. One- I am struggling towards speaking in a public forum about all of the amazing changes that have happened in my life. I want to share them because I believe that they might be of value to others. I fear sharing them because of those people who, for whatever reason, feel the need to devalue and disparage things spoken from the heart. Two- where do I draw the line between my public life and my private life? I'm not one for secrecy. As a friend of mine recently, and quite aptly, pointed out: I am a "full-disclosure kind of girl." It's true that I find great value in openness and that closing myself off is what I can only describe as unnatural for me. Moreover, closing myself off is painful to me, while opeing myself is beyond liberatory.

The first installment of "femminista Goddess of the month":

Check out my BFF's website Consent is Sexy
to see one of the many reasons why my Mel is a femminista goddess!

A fellow graduate student sent out an email to our listserv today. Included in this email was a link to a drinking game, which I think will be helpful in dulling the pain of Dubya's slaughter of the English language and the sure to come in(s)anity. While the sending of a politically charged email has now sparked contention on the list, I am putting the email, in its entirety, on my blog 'cause it's just too funny not to. Thanks to Sol Neely for sending this and giving me permission to post it here.

If you plan to suffer the "Lies of the Empire"--I mean, "State of the Union"
address tomorrow night, don't forget to drink the pain away:

Rules for the 2006 State of the Union Address Drinking Game can be found at:
http://www.drinkinggame.us/

From my own experience, the drinking game provides a hands-on pedagogical means

While perusing some feminist blogs, I ran across Sour Duck. The post that I found particularly interesting:

How long does it take your race switch to click back to "White"? is a close interrogation of the "white until proven otherwise" assumption.

While peace would certainly make the world a better place and after last night's speech by Gen. Wesley Clark, I believe that electing him to political office would make the world a better place, there are some other things that I think would (at least) improve my world and I intend to list them here.

1. Serial number stickers: All items that come with serial numbers should come with extra stickers. You can put one in your planner and the other on the item in question, specifically software cds. Am I the only person incapable of putting software back in it's cd case? Surely, I am not the only person who loses serial numbers. Well, here's a brilliant thought--a serial number sticker could go on the cd and while, granted, you'd need to take the cd out of the drive to read it, at least you'd have it when you needed it.

I have been appropriately chastised for my lack of blogging. Melody, can you ever forgive me?

Here are my reasons: I have been trying to focus my writing on that thesis thing I'm supposed to be doing and that's kind of important. Plus, being tired of living in a storage unit has really motivated me to clean my house. Not to mention the devastating effect of Indiana weather on my immune system--I have a super-fun sinus infection (translation: I can't sleep because I can't breathe through my nose and I'm buying stock in Kleenex, Motrin and Claritin). There's that other teaching thing that I do. Oh, right and I almost forgot about my own classes. And...never mind this is getting old. Anyway, I'll try to do better:)

So many things have horrified me lately, I almost don't know where to begin, but I'll start with the small text box article on page A22 of today's NY Times. In this article, Barbara Bush is quoted as saying "What I'm hearing, which is sort of scary, is that they all want to stay in Texas." What exactly is scary about that, Barbara? What happened to compassionate conservative? She goes on to make what is perhaps the most insensitive comment that I have ever heard. "And so many of the people in the arena here, you know, were underprivileged anyway, so this is working very well for them." In what warped reality, does losing contact with family members; seeing dead bodies floating in flood waters and lying by the road and in shelters; spending a week or more without adequate food and water, unsure of your fate, fearful for your safety and surrounded by filth and human waste; being carted off by buses to wherever there was room; having your entire life uprooted, separated from friends and family and for many, from the only life you have ever known; in what reality is this better off? Spoken like a person who believes that money is the most important thing, Barbara shows her ignorance of the realities of this disaster.