I have utterly failed at this blog, so it's time to point you to the next / better endeavor. Two other blogs/outlets for your pop cult pleasure.
My foodie blog: Words and Nosh
My Tumblr, that will have snippets of pop cult-y goodness and other snippets as I come across on the web and offline: WordsandSteel.tumblr.com
It's been a good, albeit spotty, run with this lil blog. Maybe I'll be back someday but until then, see you around!
2.09.2009
9.17.2008
A good forwarded email, for a change.
Subject: White Privilege, Republicans, and Sarah Palin
Tim Wise is among the most prominent anti-racist activists in the U.S.,
having given lectures from 1995 to the present in 48 different states, and
on over 500 college campuses. He has trained a multitude of teachers,
corporate employees, non-profit organizations and law enforcement officers
in methods for dismantling racism in their institutions.
This is Your Nation on White Privilege
By Tim Wise
9/13/08
For those who still can't grasp the concept of white privilege, or who
are looking for some easy-to-understand examples of it, perhaps this list
will help.
White privilege is when you can get pregnant at seventeen like Bristol
Palin and everyone is quick to insist that your life and that of your
family is a personal matter, and that no one has a right to judge you or
your parents, because "every family has challenges," even as black and
Latino families with similar "challenges" are regularly typified as
irresponsible, pathological and arbiters of social decay.
White privilege is when you can call yourself a "fuckin' redneck," like
Bristol Palin's boyfriend does, and talk about how if anyone messes with
you, you'll "kick their fuckin' ass," and talk about how you like to
"shoot shit" for fun, and still be viewed as a responsible, all-American
boy (and a great son-in-law to be) rather than a thug.
White privilege is when you can attend four different colleges in six
years like Sarah Palin did (one of which you basically failed out of,
then returned to after making up some coursework at a community college),
and no one questions your intelligence or commitment to achievement,
whereas a person of color who did this would be viewed as unfit for
college, and probably someone who only got in in the first place because
of affirmative action.
White privilege is when you can claim that being mayor of a town smaller
than most medium-sized colleges, and then Governor of a state with about
the same number of people as the lower fifth of the island of Manhattan,
makes you ready to potentially be president, and people don't all piss on
themselves with laughter, while being a black U.S. Senator, two-term
state Senator, and constitutional law scholar, means you're "untested."
White privilege is being able to say that you support the words "under
God" in the pledge of allegiance because "if it was good enough for the
founding fathers, it's good enough for me," and not be immediately
disqualified from holding office--since, after all, the pledge was
written in the late 1800s and the "under God" part wasn't added until the
1950s--while believing that reading accused criminals and terrorists
their rights (because, ya know, the Constitution, which you used to teach
at a prestigious law school requires it), is a dangerous and silly idea
only supported by mushy liberals.
White privilege is being able to be a gun enthusiast and not make people
immediately scared of you.
White privilege is being able to have a husband who was a member of an
extremist political party that wants your state to secede from the Union,
and whose motto is "Alaska first," and no one questions your patriotism
or that of your family, while if you're black and your spouse merely
fails to come to a 9/11 memorial so she can be home with her kids on the
first day of school, people immediately think she's being disrespectful.
White privilege is being able to make fun of community organizers and the
work they do--like, among other things, fight for the right of women to
vote, or for civil rights, or the 8-hour workday, or an end to child
labor--and people think you're being pithy and tough, but if you merely
question the experience of a small town mayor and 18-month governor with
no foreign policy expertise beyond a class she took in college and the
fact that she lives close to Russia--you're somehow being mean, or even
sexist.
White privilege is being able to convince white women who don't even
agree with you on any substantive issue to vote for you and your running
mate anyway, because suddenly your presence on the ticket has inspired
confidence in these same white women, and made them give your party a
"second look."
White privilege is being able to fire people who didn't support your
political campaigns and not be accused of abusing your power or being a
typical politician who engages in favoritism, while being black and
merely knowing some folks from the old-line political machines in Chicago
means you must be corrupt.
White privilege is when you can take nearly twenty-four hours to get to a
hospital after beginning to leak amniotic fluid, and still be viewed as a
great mom whose commitment to her children is unquestionable, and whose
"next door neighbor" qualities make her ready to be VP, while if you're a
black candidate for president and you let your children be interviewed
for a few seconds on TV, you're irresponsibly exploiting them.
White privilege is being able to give a 36 minute speech in which you
talk about lipstick and make fun of your opponent, while laying out no
substantive policy positions on any issue at all, and still manage to be
considered a legitimate candidate, while a black person who gives an hour
speech the week before, in which he lays out specific policy proposals on
several issues, is still criticized for being too vague about what he
would do if elected.
White privilege is being able to attend churches over the years whose
pastors say that people who voted for John Kerry or merely criticize
George W. Bush are going to hell, and that the U.S. is an explicitly
Christian nation and the job of Christians is to bring Christian
theological principles into government, and who bring in speakers who say
the conflict in the Middle East is God's punishment on Jews for rejecting
Jesus, and everyone can still think you're just a good church-going
Christian, but if you're black and friends with a black pastor who has
noted (as have Colin Powell and the U.S. Department of Defense) that
terrorist attacks are often the result of U.S. foreign policy and who
talks about the history of racism and its effect on black people, you're
an extremist who probably hates America.
White privilege is not knowing what the Bush Doctrine is when asked by a
reporter, and then people get angry at the reporter for asking you such a
"trick question," while being black and merely refusing to give one-word
answers to the queries of Bill O'Reilly means you're dodging the
question, or trying to seem overly intellectual and nuanced.
White privilege is being able to go to a prestigious prep school, then to
Yale and then Harvard Business school, and yet, still be seen as just an
average guy (George W. Bush) while being black, going to a prestigious
prep school, then Occidental College, then Columbia, and then to Harvard
Law, makes you "uppity," and a snob who probably looks down on regular
folks.
White privilege is being able to graduate near the bottom of your college
class (McCain), or graduate with a C average from Yale (W.) and that's
OK, and you're cut out to be president, but if you're black and you
graduate near the top of your class from Harvard Law, you can't be
trusted to make good decisions in office.
White privilege is being able to dump your first wife after she's
disfigured in a car crash so you can take up with a multi-millionaire
beauty queen (who you go on to call the c-word in public) and still be
thought of as a man of strong family values, while if you're black and
married for nearly twenty years to the same woman, your family is viewed
as un-American and your gestures of affection for each other are called
"terrorist fist bumps."
White privilege is being able to sing a song about bombing Iran and still
be viewed as a sober and rational statesman, with the maturity to be
president, while being black and suggesting that the U.S. should speak
with other nations, even when we have disagreements with them, makes you
"dangerously naive and immature."
White privilege is being able to claim your experience as a POW has
anything at all to do with your fitness for president, while being black
and experiencing racism and an absent father is apparently among the
"lesser adversities" faced by other politicians, as Sarah Palin explained
in her convention speech.
And finally, white privilege is the only thing that could possibly allow
someone to become president when he has voted with George W. Bush 90
percent of the time, even as unemployment is skyrocketing, people are
losing their homes, inflation is rising, and the U.S. is increasingly
isolated from world opinion, just because white voters aren't sure about
that whole "change" thing. Ya know, it's just too vague and ill-defined,
unlike, say, four more years of the same, which is very concrete and
certain.
White privilege is, in short, the problem.
Tim Wise is among the most prominent anti-racist activists in the U.S.,
having given lectures from 1995 to the present in 48 different states, and
on over 500 college campuses. He has trained a multitude of teachers,
corporate employees, non-profit organizations and law enforcement officers
in methods for dismantling racism in their institutions.
This is Your Nation on White Privilege
By Tim Wise
9/13/08
For those who still can't grasp the concept of white privilege, or who
are looking for some easy-to-understand examples of it, perhaps this list
will help.
White privilege is when you can get pregnant at seventeen like Bristol
Palin and everyone is quick to insist that your life and that of your
family is a personal matter, and that no one has a right to judge you or
your parents, because "every family has challenges," even as black and
Latino families with similar "challenges" are regularly typified as
irresponsible, pathological and arbiters of social decay.
White privilege is when you can call yourself a "fuckin' redneck," like
Bristol Palin's boyfriend does, and talk about how if anyone messes with
you, you'll "kick their fuckin' ass," and talk about how you like to
"shoot shit" for fun, and still be viewed as a responsible, all-American
boy (and a great son-in-law to be) rather than a thug.
White privilege is when you can attend four different colleges in six
years like Sarah Palin did (one of which you basically failed out of,
then returned to after making up some coursework at a community college),
and no one questions your intelligence or commitment to achievement,
whereas a person of color who did this would be viewed as unfit for
college, and probably someone who only got in in the first place because
of affirmative action.
White privilege is when you can claim that being mayor of a town smaller
than most medium-sized colleges, and then Governor of a state with about
the same number of people as the lower fifth of the island of Manhattan,
makes you ready to potentially be president, and people don't all piss on
themselves with laughter, while being a black U.S. Senator, two-term
state Senator, and constitutional law scholar, means you're "untested."
White privilege is being able to say that you support the words "under
God" in the pledge of allegiance because "if it was good enough for the
founding fathers, it's good enough for me," and not be immediately
disqualified from holding office--since, after all, the pledge was
written in the late 1800s and the "under God" part wasn't added until the
1950s--while believing that reading accused criminals and terrorists
their rights (because, ya know, the Constitution, which you used to teach
at a prestigious law school requires it), is a dangerous and silly idea
only supported by mushy liberals.
White privilege is being able to be a gun enthusiast and not make people
immediately scared of you.
White privilege is being able to have a husband who was a member of an
extremist political party that wants your state to secede from the Union,
and whose motto is "Alaska first," and no one questions your patriotism
or that of your family, while if you're black and your spouse merely
fails to come to a 9/11 memorial so she can be home with her kids on the
first day of school, people immediately think she's being disrespectful.
White privilege is being able to make fun of community organizers and the
work they do--like, among other things, fight for the right of women to
vote, or for civil rights, or the 8-hour workday, or an end to child
labor--and people think you're being pithy and tough, but if you merely
question the experience of a small town mayor and 18-month governor with
no foreign policy expertise beyond a class she took in college and the
fact that she lives close to Russia--you're somehow being mean, or even
sexist.
White privilege is being able to convince white women who don't even
agree with you on any substantive issue to vote for you and your running
mate anyway, because suddenly your presence on the ticket has inspired
confidence in these same white women, and made them give your party a
"second look."
White privilege is being able to fire people who didn't support your
political campaigns and not be accused of abusing your power or being a
typical politician who engages in favoritism, while being black and
merely knowing some folks from the old-line political machines in Chicago
means you must be corrupt.
White privilege is when you can take nearly twenty-four hours to get to a
hospital after beginning to leak amniotic fluid, and still be viewed as a
great mom whose commitment to her children is unquestionable, and whose
"next door neighbor" qualities make her ready to be VP, while if you're a
black candidate for president and you let your children be interviewed
for a few seconds on TV, you're irresponsibly exploiting them.
White privilege is being able to give a 36 minute speech in which you
talk about lipstick and make fun of your opponent, while laying out no
substantive policy positions on any issue at all, and still manage to be
considered a legitimate candidate, while a black person who gives an hour
speech the week before, in which he lays out specific policy proposals on
several issues, is still criticized for being too vague about what he
would do if elected.
White privilege is being able to attend churches over the years whose
pastors say that people who voted for John Kerry or merely criticize
George W. Bush are going to hell, and that the U.S. is an explicitly
Christian nation and the job of Christians is to bring Christian
theological principles into government, and who bring in speakers who say
the conflict in the Middle East is God's punishment on Jews for rejecting
Jesus, and everyone can still think you're just a good church-going
Christian, but if you're black and friends with a black pastor who has
noted (as have Colin Powell and the U.S. Department of Defense) that
terrorist attacks are often the result of U.S. foreign policy and who
talks about the history of racism and its effect on black people, you're
an extremist who probably hates America.
White privilege is not knowing what the Bush Doctrine is when asked by a
reporter, and then people get angry at the reporter for asking you such a
"trick question," while being black and merely refusing to give one-word
answers to the queries of Bill O'Reilly means you're dodging the
question, or trying to seem overly intellectual and nuanced.
White privilege is being able to go to a prestigious prep school, then to
Yale and then Harvard Business school, and yet, still be seen as just an
average guy (George W. Bush) while being black, going to a prestigious
prep school, then Occidental College, then Columbia, and then to Harvard
Law, makes you "uppity," and a snob who probably looks down on regular
folks.
White privilege is being able to graduate near the bottom of your college
class (McCain), or graduate with a C average from Yale (W.) and that's
OK, and you're cut out to be president, but if you're black and you
graduate near the top of your class from Harvard Law, you can't be
trusted to make good decisions in office.
White privilege is being able to dump your first wife after she's
disfigured in a car crash so you can take up with a multi-millionaire
beauty queen (who you go on to call the c-word in public) and still be
thought of as a man of strong family values, while if you're black and
married for nearly twenty years to the same woman, your family is viewed
as un-American and your gestures of affection for each other are called
"terrorist fist bumps."
White privilege is being able to sing a song about bombing Iran and still
be viewed as a sober and rational statesman, with the maturity to be
president, while being black and suggesting that the U.S. should speak
with other nations, even when we have disagreements with them, makes you
"dangerously naive and immature."
White privilege is being able to claim your experience as a POW has
anything at all to do with your fitness for president, while being black
and experiencing racism and an absent father is apparently among the
"lesser adversities" faced by other politicians, as Sarah Palin explained
in her convention speech.
And finally, white privilege is the only thing that could possibly allow
someone to become president when he has voted with George W. Bush 90
percent of the time, even as unemployment is skyrocketing, people are
losing their homes, inflation is rising, and the U.S. is increasingly
isolated from world opinion, just because white voters aren't sure about
that whole "change" thing. Ya know, it's just too vague and ill-defined,
unlike, say, four more years of the same, which is very concrete and
certain.
White privilege is, in short, the problem.
7.23.2008
On Telling People Off, the Nice Way.
Great YouTube video, snagged from Racialicious on 'how to tell people they said something racist.'
So, so true what this man says, especially the part about deflection away from the spoken act towards a consideration of the speaker's character. From that 'nappy headed ho' character to the most recent cover of the New Yorker, individual and corporate accountability gets flushed out the window when the speakers start to deflect the blame.
I'll admit to not being so successful in the calling people out program, as I go straight for the jugular to calling them racist. At the same time, by the time I've actually gotten around to calling them racist, I've been around them long enough to have witnessed multiple incidents of f-upedness along the way- meaning, I try to reserve this comment for those I've simply had enough of, not the one-time slip or misspoken 'joke'. Let's just say these conversations never end well, but damn if it doesn't feel good to tell someone off every once in a while.
So, who do we need to have a 'you said something racist' conversation with these days? Any suggestions, folks?
So, so true what this man says, especially the part about deflection away from the spoken act towards a consideration of the speaker's character. From that 'nappy headed ho' character to the most recent cover of the New Yorker, individual and corporate accountability gets flushed out the window when the speakers start to deflect the blame.
I'll admit to not being so successful in the calling people out program, as I go straight for the jugular to calling them racist. At the same time, by the time I've actually gotten around to calling them racist, I've been around them long enough to have witnessed multiple incidents of f-upedness along the way- meaning, I try to reserve this comment for those I've simply had enough of, not the one-time slip or misspoken 'joke'. Let's just say these conversations never end well, but damn if it doesn't feel good to tell someone off every once in a while.
So, who do we need to have a 'you said something racist' conversation with these days? Any suggestions, folks?
5.12.2008
Sheepishly wandering back
It's been almost a year since my last blog post here, dear friends. If any of you are still reading, thanks for your patience. I can't promise much now (oh, the joys of grad school) but I need to at least try to get back on the wagon.
I thought of this blog in the fall when, mired in episodes of the first (I can't believe there is already a second!) A Shot of Love with Tila Tequila, I pondered the radical potential for queer love on reality tv, and promptly threw it away once that little hussy dumped dear Dani. Oh, Dani. The first contestant on a reality dating show I actually believed was really after some love. So butch, so tender, and with fabulous muscle tone. Once Tila chose that numbskull, Bobby, I found myself really upset and angry. Then it hit me... was I hating Tila, or myself? Why was I so upset that Tila, an avowed bisexual, had picked a boy over a girl? Did this mean she was really straight? Did this mean she was a self-hating bisexual? Or... did it mean she was exercising her sexuality freely? Bisexual invisibility is a bitch, isn't it?!
I thought of this blog again when, in a fit of desperation during the writers' striker, I started watching shows like October Road and Eli Stone, and (gasp!) really enjoying them. What's not to love about worlds free of angry brown people, queers, and feminazis? Feel the pain of love and loss right there with those white kids in Boston or SF or wherever it may be. Sadly, I found myself identifying more with the hometown-boy-made-good character of Nick Garrett (from October Road)than that free-wheeling Asian American bisexual Tila Tequila. Again, this prompted a crisis of identity I wished I could share on this blog. Alas, the moment passed.
Oh, and Lost! The things I could have written about Lost! All I need to say is this: the day Desmond dies is the last episode of this show I will ever watch. And you can quote me on that.
Not to mention this business called Election 2008, the state of hip-hop today (I was the last to hear about "Wow", and that truly made me sad), and my first ventures in sci fi and real comics (not graphic novels)! So many things, and radio silence from me. A damn shame.
Dear blog family, I am so sorry for having left you all this time. It's hurt me as much as it's hurt you. I'll be back soon, I promise.
I thought of this blog in the fall when, mired in episodes of the first (I can't believe there is already a second!) A Shot of Love with Tila Tequila, I pondered the radical potential for queer love on reality tv, and promptly threw it away once that little hussy dumped dear Dani. Oh, Dani. The first contestant on a reality dating show I actually believed was really after some love. So butch, so tender, and with fabulous muscle tone. Once Tila chose that numbskull, Bobby, I found myself really upset and angry. Then it hit me... was I hating Tila, or myself? Why was I so upset that Tila, an avowed bisexual, had picked a boy over a girl? Did this mean she was really straight? Did this mean she was a self-hating bisexual? Or... did it mean she was exercising her sexuality freely? Bisexual invisibility is a bitch, isn't it?!
I thought of this blog again when, in a fit of desperation during the writers' striker, I started watching shows like October Road and Eli Stone, and (gasp!) really enjoying them. What's not to love about worlds free of angry brown people, queers, and feminazis? Feel the pain of love and loss right there with those white kids in Boston or SF or wherever it may be. Sadly, I found myself identifying more with the hometown-boy-made-good character of Nick Garrett (from October Road)than that free-wheeling Asian American bisexual Tila Tequila. Again, this prompted a crisis of identity I wished I could share on this blog. Alas, the moment passed.
Oh, and Lost! The things I could have written about Lost! All I need to say is this: the day Desmond dies is the last episode of this show I will ever watch. And you can quote me on that.
Not to mention this business called Election 2008, the state of hip-hop today (I was the last to hear about "Wow", and that truly made me sad), and my first ventures in sci fi and real comics (not graphic novels)! So many things, and radio silence from me. A damn shame.
Dear blog family, I am so sorry for having left you all this time. It's hurt me as much as it's hurt you. I'll be back soon, I promise.
6.28.2007
Junebugs
Sorry, dear friends, for the lapse in posting. I finished up my first year in grad school just two weeks ago and have been trying to regain my sanity since then. I'm sure you didn't need me anyway, you pop-savvy bunch. It's been business as usual: folks waited/are waiting in line for a silly little white phone; Ann Coulter is still a lunatic; NYC lost power again; and those nasty girls are still at it: Britney, Paris, and probably Firecrotch too.
And HELLO people, I can't believe no one told me about the director's cut of the J.T. video for "What Goes Around Comes Around"! What kind of friends are you?!? If you haven't seen this, do. It's epic-ly overacted and overblown like mid-90s R. Kelly. Not up to par with "Keep it on the Down Low" (how can you top Ron Isley?), but still pretty amazing for its sheer audacity.
Not to give too much away (the lyrics are pretty obvious), but when J.T. catches Scarlett cheating on him (around minute 6) the scene is so raw it kind of stings. Who hasn't had the following heated exchange with a partner-- "You don't know me!" "I fucking know you! I know you!" Maybe it's just my terrible history with people, but I've been down that road before. Minus the whole cheating, Justin walking in, kicking dude's ass, etc. etc. So, actually I haven't been down that road. Whatever. You get it.
So... the world keeps going round and round. I'll be back when something exciting happens. Stay cool in the heat, folks!
And HELLO people, I can't believe no one told me about the director's cut of the J.T. video for "What Goes Around Comes Around"! What kind of friends are you?!? If you haven't seen this, do. It's epic-ly overacted and overblown like mid-90s R. Kelly. Not up to par with "Keep it on the Down Low" (how can you top Ron Isley?), but still pretty amazing for its sheer audacity.
Not to give too much away (the lyrics are pretty obvious), but when J.T. catches Scarlett cheating on him (around minute 6) the scene is so raw it kind of stings. Who hasn't had the following heated exchange with a partner-- "You don't know me!" "I fucking know you! I know you!" Maybe it's just my terrible history with people, but I've been down that road before. Minus the whole cheating, Justin walking in, kicking dude's ass, etc. etc. So, actually I haven't been down that road. Whatever. You get it.
So... the world keeps going round and round. I'll be back when something exciting happens. Stay cool in the heat, folks!
5.31.2007
Filipino vibes?
So maybe it's a tangent, but I'm wondering if Orientalism has made its way into sex toys under the radar. Yes, we all know about Asian fetishes in pornography and other horrible racist/sexist/heterosexist depictions of Asian men and women endemic to US popular culture. But what of supposedly sex-positive and women-friendly sex toys that invoke tropes of liberatory travel by alluding to the exotic 'other'?
Case in point:
Babeland, formerly Toys in Babeland, is the premier women-owned queer-friendly adult store in the country. They are at the forefront of forwarding body-positive expressions of sexuality that are not limited to following proscribed norms about gender and sexual orientation/practice. In short, I love them.
So they're now carrying this new toy, the "Laya Spot," whose description reads: "Tuck the splashproof Laya Spot in your backpack next to your travel guide and prepare for a fantasy getaway. Breeze through customs, enjoy a buzz in the surf and massage the kinks out of road-weary muscles. An ergonomic shape and three distinct buzz patterns will make even at-home use seem like a vacation from ordinary sex toys."
So what's the big deal here? I mean, there are fluffy descriptions all the time in these kinds of write-ups; it's not like they're selling utilitarian things like trasch cans or power tools (well...). Intentionally or not, something about this name and description hits a nerve with me; perhaps it's because "Laya" means "freedom" in Tagalog, and my what a telling story this little vibrator makes on a one-page description.
For the liberated Western consumer, you can buy a little piece of plastic that will transport you away, or even better, perhaps a plane ticket to a 'fantasy getaway' filled with all the sex and love you could ever want. What then of the Filipino, the one who actually understands what the word "Laya" means but so very rarely can experience 'freedom' herself? What of the constant sexual exploitation Filipina women in the Philippines and all over the world (thanks, labor export policies!) are subjected to, for the purposes of fullfilling western consumer's needs for cheap labor (which produces cheap goods) and more importantly, warm bodies for which the western sexual consumer can possess not only symbolically (through the ownership of a "Laya Spot") but also materially (through the purchase of a Filipina prostitute or domestic worker).
The fact is that most people who go onto Babeland's site are 1) most likely female-identified, 2) potentially queer-identified or queer-friendly, and 3) generally think of themselves as progressive folks. And all those things are probably true. But does that mean that these folks will understand the implications of a toy being named the "Laya Spot," and how that by purchasing such a toy actually feed into a culture that exoticizes and eroticizes Filipina women for the purposes of sexual consumption? Probably not. Shoot, I probably wouldn't had I not been so steeped in thinking about and working with these issues (by choice) nearly every day for the past five years.
Am I calling for a boycott of Babeland, sex toys, of the Laya Spot? No. I am just musing on the implications, no matter how unintentional, our liberated western sexual freedom has on others whose only choices are based on basic survival.
Case in point:
Babeland, formerly Toys in Babeland, is the premier women-owned queer-friendly adult store in the country. They are at the forefront of forwarding body-positive expressions of sexuality that are not limited to following proscribed norms about gender and sexual orientation/practice. In short, I love them.
So they're now carrying this new toy, the "Laya Spot," whose description reads: "Tuck the splashproof Laya Spot in your backpack next to your travel guide and prepare for a fantasy getaway. Breeze through customs, enjoy a buzz in the surf and massage the kinks out of road-weary muscles. An ergonomic shape and three distinct buzz patterns will make even at-home use seem like a vacation from ordinary sex toys."
So what's the big deal here? I mean, there are fluffy descriptions all the time in these kinds of write-ups; it's not like they're selling utilitarian things like trasch cans or power tools (well...). Intentionally or not, something about this name and description hits a nerve with me; perhaps it's because "Laya" means "freedom" in Tagalog, and my what a telling story this little vibrator makes on a one-page description.
For the liberated Western consumer, you can buy a little piece of plastic that will transport you away, or even better, perhaps a plane ticket to a 'fantasy getaway' filled with all the sex and love you could ever want. What then of the Filipino, the one who actually understands what the word "Laya" means but so very rarely can experience 'freedom' herself? What of the constant sexual exploitation Filipina women in the Philippines and all over the world (thanks, labor export policies!) are subjected to, for the purposes of fullfilling western consumer's needs for cheap labor (which produces cheap goods) and more importantly, warm bodies for which the western sexual consumer can possess not only symbolically (through the ownership of a "Laya Spot") but also materially (through the purchase of a Filipina prostitute or domestic worker).
The fact is that most people who go onto Babeland's site are 1) most likely female-identified, 2) potentially queer-identified or queer-friendly, and 3) generally think of themselves as progressive folks. And all those things are probably true. But does that mean that these folks will understand the implications of a toy being named the "Laya Spot," and how that by purchasing such a toy actually feed into a culture that exoticizes and eroticizes Filipina women for the purposes of sexual consumption? Probably not. Shoot, I probably wouldn't had I not been so steeped in thinking about and working with these issues (by choice) nearly every day for the past five years.
Am I calling for a boycott of Babeland, sex toys, of the Laya Spot? No. I am just musing on the implications, no matter how unintentional, our liberated western sexual freedom has on others whose only choices are based on basic survival.
5.14.2007
May media update
a list, if you will:
- Bjork's new album, Volta, is her best effort since Homogenic. Medulla was unlistenable, an aural rendition of the idiocy that passes for Matthew Barney's performance art. Vespertine was sweet but ultimately too quiet and forgettable. I was worried the Timbaland-produced tracks would flop, and granted "Earth Intruders" sounds half-baked, like they forget to stir in the bass, but overall they weren't as jarring as feared. I know "Declaration of Independence" is slated to be the third single, but are you serious? This, along with the first duet with Antony from Antony and the Johnsons, has got to the most irritating track on the album. Am loving "Wanderlust" to pieces. Really wish I had made it out to Coachella to see her perform this album, but who wants to get sunburned in the desert anyway? (I'm totally jealous, am trying to get over the pain.)
- The National's third full-length release, Boxer, is slated for May 22nd, though they have the full album up for preview on their myspace page already. I am not disappointed at all, though I miss some of the fierceness (mmm, boys growling) that undergirded Alligator. It's a much prettier album, I'll say that much. Got to hear "Fake Empire" and "Start a War" last fall while they were on tour, and those tracks are solid- though "Fake Empire" drags a bit more in the album version than live. Current standouts tracks for me are "Mistaken for Strangers," "Squalor Victoria," and "Apartment Story," though you know I'll be listening to the whole album all. summer. long. Ever the troopers, The National's touring now and will be through the summer, with a few opening gigs for Arcade Fire mixed in with their headliner shows. Catch them if you can- they put on a fantastic live show.
-- It's basically been a Gael Garcia Bernal lovefest in my house lately; I've been catching up on movies I've been long overdue to see (thanks, corporate video rental place!). Almadovar's Bad Education was stunning- absolutely heartbreaking and Gael's twisted character is among his best. I've also been watching and re-watching Michel Gondry's The Science of Sleep. If you'll remember, Gondry is the music video director (for Bjork, among others) that went on to feature length films. This effort is far more complex and resolves much less cleanly than his mainstream hit Eternal Sunshine. There are points in the film where Gael's character, Stephane, is so pathetic I don't know whether I want to hug him or slap him. A lovely, dreamlike film about memory, loss, and love that you shouldn't miss.
Ok, nothing more for now. This little broke grad student is heading to New York, then Paris for the week!
- Bjork's new album, Volta, is her best effort since Homogenic. Medulla was unlistenable, an aural rendition of the idiocy that passes for Matthew Barney's performance art. Vespertine was sweet but ultimately too quiet and forgettable. I was worried the Timbaland-produced tracks would flop, and granted "Earth Intruders" sounds half-baked, like they forget to stir in the bass, but overall they weren't as jarring as feared. I know "Declaration of Independence" is slated to be the third single, but are you serious? This, along with the first duet with Antony from Antony and the Johnsons, has got to the most irritating track on the album. Am loving "Wanderlust" to pieces. Really wish I had made it out to Coachella to see her perform this album, but who wants to get sunburned in the desert anyway? (I'm totally jealous, am trying to get over the pain.)
- The National's third full-length release, Boxer, is slated for May 22nd, though they have the full album up for preview on their myspace page already. I am not disappointed at all, though I miss some of the fierceness (mmm, boys growling) that undergirded Alligator. It's a much prettier album, I'll say that much. Got to hear "Fake Empire" and "Start a War" last fall while they were on tour, and those tracks are solid- though "Fake Empire" drags a bit more in the album version than live. Current standouts tracks for me are "Mistaken for Strangers," "Squalor Victoria," and "Apartment Story," though you know I'll be listening to the whole album all. summer. long. Ever the troopers, The National's touring now and will be through the summer, with a few opening gigs for Arcade Fire mixed in with their headliner shows. Catch them if you can- they put on a fantastic live show.
-- It's basically been a Gael Garcia Bernal lovefest in my house lately; I've been catching up on movies I've been long overdue to see (thanks, corporate video rental place!). Almadovar's Bad Education was stunning- absolutely heartbreaking and Gael's twisted character is among his best. I've also been watching and re-watching Michel Gondry's The Science of Sleep. If you'll remember, Gondry is the music video director (for Bjork, among others) that went on to feature length films. This effort is far more complex and resolves much less cleanly than his mainstream hit Eternal Sunshine. There are points in the film where Gael's character, Stephane, is so pathetic I don't know whether I want to hug him or slap him. A lovely, dreamlike film about memory, loss, and love that you shouldn't miss.
Ok, nothing more for now. This little broke grad student is heading to New York, then Paris for the week!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
