The Choice of a New Generation

Hey y'all,

Like a lot of folks out there, I'm knee-deep in school and sinking fast...Those of you in school know what I mean, those of you being productive citizens will remember what I mean, so blogging has been a distant memeory for the past month.  However, there's a couple of articles that have been stewing in my brain for the past couple of months, and in between bouts of drunken rage at The Man (and also The Man) I've been putting some specific thoughts together on the continued attacks on reproductive rights in the US and around the world.

What's gross and hateful and disgusting is that the fundies hide behind "Won't somebody please think of the innocent blastocysts!" when really, they're not just against that mystical "9 months minus a day" abortion that all women secretly long to have.  They just don't see why should women have any reproductive rights at all.  Not medical abortion, not preventative birth control, not anything.  Because, after all, woman are here for one reason and one reason only - to be passive vessels for manly essence as decided by men who could never get anyone to bear their children voluntarily God.

Hat tip to Courtney who sent me this link which introduced me to that Kah-razy Karacter, Thomas Euteneuer.  Like most self-proeclaimed experts on sex, pregnancy and child-rearing, Thommy has experienced none of those things.  However, in his capacity as a Catholic priest, he does have the red phone to that big guy in the sky, and therefore feels qualified to dismiss contraception as it  "interferes with a woman's duty to produce "a full quiver" of children for God."  That's right ladies!  In God's eyes, we are all his precious children/children factories.   But hey, don't whine to Thommy about it - if God had wanted you to have an autonomous, spiritually-fulfilling life, he would have given you a penis.  Duh!

Because obviously women aren't supposed to make reproductive decisions.  I mean, when they do, look what happens (hat tip to Christine for the article):  the crime rate goes down, thereby robbing fundamentalists of their "oh noes, society is crumbling!!11!1" arguments.  And really, anyone who is actually surprised by the fact that women making their own choices is a good thing deserves the heart attack they get when it turns out that those walking sperm-incubators actually have the capacity to make moral decisions.

I mean, really - is this so controversial?  Are we really all that surprised that when women can choose when to have children, said children are generally better cared for and less likely to wind up on the hopeless path of crime?   And to those fundie groups that wave the strawman of adoption around, let me just point out three things: 1)Yes, there are plenty of families out there looking to adopt - healthy white babies.  Which poor, non-white women don't tend to give birth to; 2)There are far more children without families than families looking to adopt; and 3)Denying reproductive control to women in order to turn them into broodmares for middle-class, white, Christian families is a terrifying and inhuman idea.

Anyway - just needed to get that off my chest.  Next time I come up for air, I hope to deal with the issue of anti-contracpetion crusaders and how what they really need is a terrific lay with the consenting adult of their choice.   

What have they done to my brain?

Normally a two-week (or more) hiatus would mean that I did something really awesome or exciting...alas, that is not the case. I have been, for lack of a better term "buckling down". "Hitting the books". "Being a goddamn student again". Seeing as I have been coasting along in "adult" mode for almost three years now, shifting back into "student" was is proving to be a challenge - you could say I ground the gears on the transmission of my life, and now mom won't let me take the car out again until I learn to use the clutch of life transitions properly. Or something.

Actually, it's not all that bad, and it's downright enjoyable in certain aspects. But there are definitely some notable differences, such as:

The death of the 9-to-5. Okay, maybe somedays it was 8-6, and others it was 9:30-3:30, but the point is, there was a pretty marked distinction between work and non-work, in terms of time and space. I've been struggling to keep that distinction, and the guilt-free reality TV watching it implies, but we'll see how long that lasts.

Everyday is casual Friday! This one's a bit of a mixed blessing. On the one hand, I love wearing jeans everyday. On the other hand, 2+ years of professional work means I only own two pairs of jeans suitable for non-yardwork-related activities. Not that that would have stopped me as an undergrad, but now I am old and uptight, I guess.

People ask for my opinion! Again, a mixed bag. At my job, it didn't happen much, 'cause quite frankly, my opinion was irrelevant. Which it still is, only now I am being graded on it.

Reading is a chore again! The job years were a book-lover's dream - now I am reading 10 times as much, and (of course) being graded on it. I do actually enjoy most of my readings, though, I just don't like the terror that sinks in when I am halfway through one particularly interesting article and realize that I have 12 MORE TO GO IN TWO DAYS, and that MY NOTES ARE INCOMPLETE and dammit if I have to read one more POST-MARXIST CRITIQUE OF ANYTHING I am going to need a WAAAY STRONGER DRINK, which leads me to:

Drinking in the afternoon is okay again! Is it noon yet? Who cares, nobody's juding you! Rampant alcoholism and unabashed binge-drinking is both accepted and expected!

And on that note - why yes. Yes it is past noon. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a date with 200 pages of feminist discourse and a bottle of dry gin...

For the last time, Donald Rumsfeld, repeat after me: Correlation does not equal causation

Like all exciting young sophisticates nowadays, DD and I spend many an evening working on our growing collection of puzzles and watching/making snarky comments at the evening news. Despite the somber anniversary which last night's program covered, the snarky comments flew fast and frequently. Not because there is anything remotely snarkworthy about the events of that day - far from it. But because certain individuals (who are either mayo-for-brains doofuses or who believe that we, the audience, are mayo-brained-doofuses, which is pretty goddamn frustrating either way because I don't want to listen to idiots or people who think I'm an idiot unless there is something in it for me, like unintentionally enlightening irony, or a doughnut) who kept on insisting that all the restrictions on freedoms and human-rights-violating laws were totally worth it because, hey, there hasn't been another terrorist attack in the US, has there?

So let's sum up this argument:

1)Since September 11th, 2001, there have been increased restrictions on freedoms.
2)Since September 11th, 2001, there have been no terrorist attacks on American soil.
3) Therefore, increased restrictions have prevented terrorist attacks.

HEY! This is a fun game! Let me try.

1)Since September 11th, 2001, people are more nervous when they fly.
2)Since September 11th, there have been no terrorist attacks on American soil.
3)Therefore, passenger nervousness has prevented terrorist attacks.

Oooh! What else can we dredge up:

2)Since September 11th, 2001, there have been no Twin Towers in New York City.
3)Therefore, the destruction of the Twin Towers have prevented terrorist attacks.

Or:

2)Since September 11th, 2001, I have aged five years.
3) Therefore, aging prevents terrorist attacks.

But wait! Why stop at violating human rights when you can use a false causality to claim responsiblity for any event and thereby justify any action, as outlandish, unreasonable or asinine as it may sound?

1)Last night, my friend gave me $20.
2)My friend was not attacked by a polar bear last night.
3)Therefore, giving me $20 prevents polar bear attacks.
4)No, I'm serious, send me money right now, or you'll be sorry. Polar bears are really vicious.
5)For $50 I'll throw in comprehensive dragon coverage as well.
6)Look, I've been doing this gratis for years, okay? I mean, come on, you've never been attacked by a polar bear or a dragon, have you? So obviously it's because of me.
7)I accept personal cheques.
8)Or doughnuts.

Death by toothpaste!

So - three flights in two weeks and my brain is about to explode.  I can only take so many arbitrary, unfounded and asinine "security measures" before the part of my brain that processes logic and reason (a small node, nestled between the part that produces sarcasm and the part the contains my undying love for Skittles) overheats and shuts down.

So - a bunch of dudes were allegedly going to blow up a bunch of planes using liquid explosives.  Now, apparently airline security measures are put in place by people whose scientific knowledge of explosives comes primarily from watching Die Hard: With a Vengeance, and films of that ilk with their totally-stable-separate-but-mix-any-small-amount-together-and-BOOOOOMMM variety of binary-liquid explosives. 

But here's the rub - THEY DO NOT EXIST IN REAL LIFE.  So what the hell was going in the heads of the people who came up with this "security restrictions"?  I imagine it's something like this:

"So, this plot was "near impossible"?  Says who?  Us administrators of transport security can't listen to a buncha scientists, for goodness sakes!  Evolutionary, revolutionary, Big-Banging, godless scientists! What could those four-eyed geeks possibly know about The War on Terror, stuck in their little labs with their little white coats and their little nerdy glasses, just waiting to be wedgied....no, it's far better to just ban all liquids than to have to listen to a bunch of geeks lecture us important people on the actual real threats to planes!  We'll just ban all liquids from planes!  Oh wait...I think I remember from some high school science class...biometry or something...that people have to drink...okay, we'll ban all liquids except beverages.  But those will only be served in cups, not bottles! Because bottles are dangerous.  I mean, look at cousin Jimmy - lost two fingers to a bottle rocket!"

I mean - HOLY FUCK.  After 9/11, if you wanted to bring an unsealed, unlabelled container of liquid on the plane (like, say, a FREAKIN' water bottle) - they made you take a sip.  Ta da!  No mysterious liquid here!  But now - not only can you not bring ANY liquid of ANY sort into secuirty - you can't even buy a bottle of water at the gate or on the plane.  Because, secretly, terrorists have also discovered the secrets of alchemy - sure, Starbucks can sell the contents of a bottle of water - but if they allowed people to take the actual bottle, terrorists could use their evil powers to turn it into - um...that mysterious explosive that only terrorists know about.  But fortunately, some quick-thinking security experts foiled that plot by making sure the contents of the bottle are poured into a cup!  HA!  Take THAT, terrorists!  Because even the stupidest morons to ever crawl out of a dog's anus know that you can't perform alchemy in a plastic cup!

Anyway - two last thoughts to wrap this up.

First of all - check out the fabulous piece at McSweeney's, which sums this whole issue up much better than my Skittle-infused brain can (especially the one called Your Flight Three Years From Now - scroll down).

Second of all - I found it very fitting that the hand-drawn signs posted up on the now-dangerous vending machines in the airport read:

                                        Do Not Use

                                        Due Security

It's too darn hot

Oh, wow - what a week.  Tuesday was the SINGLE HOTTEST DAY OF MY LIFE.  It went past 50 celsius (that's 122 farenheit) during the day.  Also, the air conditioner broke at my work, meaning it was the first day that I didn't freeze my ass off in the office because I'm in a building with two hockey rinks that is kept below room temperature at all time.  So that was good.  But then the ice rinks almost completely melted, so that was bad.  I guess.

And then the other night we had severe thunderstorms - and a tornado warning.  As this flashed across the bottom of the screen during Rockstar Supernova, I was all "whuh?  Wuh wuh?"  Because it never occurred to me that I lived in the part of the world where such things happenend.  So I looked at DD all, "So?  Do we bring in the container garden?  Tie down the patio furniture?  Sleep in the basement?  Tape the rest of the show?"

Fortunately, however, the warning was lifted, and I could enjoy my cheesy reality TV in peace, as nature intended.

Random old guys, second only to God in terms of moral judgement

A friend of mine recently went back to work after a year off battling breast cancer, just in time for to hear all about this wonderful example of humanity spout off about how women aren't capable about making their own decisions regarding their bodies.  At a "welcome back" lunch, we got into a discussion about abortion regulation, and the random old guys who wander around with signs just across the street, and who the hell they think they are to tell women about the morality of her decision. 

See, said friend is pretty young for a breast cancer survivor - 27 - and one of the main issues she's dealing with now is sex and reproduction, post-cancer.   To help prevent a reoccurence, she a) cannot take any hormonal forms of birth control, and b) is on a series of drugs that ARE NOT compatible with healthy fetal development.  She asked her doctor point blank what that would mean if she got pregnant - to which her doctor replied that it was her decision, but he would advise her to have an abortion.

Now sure - random old guys on the street, because they  are "Christian" men and therefore possessing far superior moral judgement to a young woman (or a medical doctor) as far as the issue of pregnancy is concerned - would simply tell her that she shouldn't be having sex anyway, because there's nothing in this world more EVIL than non-married adults engaging in consensual sexual behavior.

BUT!  Here's the sticky point - she IS getting married.  And, seeing as this story is taking place in Canada, I should clarify that she is getting married to a man. 

So it's a very real possibility that some day in the next five years, she might have to walk past random old guys to get to the clinic, and they will wish they lived in a society where, sinless as they are, they could cast all sorts of stones at her (magic stones that hurt the murdering whore without touching the precious angel growing inside her).

Now, some may say that, to be fair, I should accept the possibility that the random old guys would probably understand if she explained her situation to them.  They would probably accept her decision, and feel compassion that she was faced with so many challenges and such a young age.

But to anyone who says that, I say: SO FREAKIN' WHAT?    Oh, would they understand?  Would they be compassionate?  Would they tell her she's not making Jesus cry - this time?  Wow, what a couple of saints!  What truly phenomenal human beings they are - a woman made a personal decision affecting her body and her body alone - and after a detailed explanation, they considered it justified!  STOP THE PRESSES - here are the wisest, most noble of men!  Yes, there!  Hiding behind the "I'm a child, not a choice" signs!

ARRRRRGGGHHH.

Here's the thing about being pro-choice - it means that no woman, ever, anywhere, under any circumstances, needs to justify her decision to ANYONE BUT HERSELF.   Not to her friends, not to her family, and certainly not to complete strangers who spend their whole day protesting abortions while thousands of children in this city alone go hungry. 

It is her body, it is her business, and I am so goddamn TIRED of people who think that they should have the right to decide what are "good" and "bad" reasons for abortions.  There is only one good reason for an abortion - that she wants one.  There is only one bad reason for abortion - that someone else is forcing her to get one. 

That is why it's "pro-choice", NOT "pro-abortion", and if people are so thick-skulled they can't understand that, then they have no place making moral decisions for THEMSELVES, let alone anyone else. 

Saved from summer reruns

...by Rockstar: Supernova.  My love affair with reality TV pretty much ended this year, but that doesn't mean I can't have one last fling with this totally terrific show.  Okay, Dave Navarro is pretty irritating (maybe it's the impending divorce) (but still, telling a female contestant to "eat a sandwich" is pretty rude) (especially when you're lounging around bare-chested, and said chest is more Twiggy than barrel), and Tommy Lee needs to stop his "I am a big ol' horndog who must talk to women in blatantly sexual innuendo only", but the show itself is pretty awesome.  The singers are very talented, and there's a lot of rocking out, and not too much filler, and I'm actually pretty excited to see who will win (My hope?  Dilana.  My guess?  Toby.)

Anyway - if you're not doing anything Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday nights, check it out.