Amanda has a good piece on the conflation of consciousness raising and "just bitching about men," and how it works alongside the myth that the stereotype of infantile men comes from feminists, which she correctly pegs as originating from "the ignorant equation 'feminists hate male dominance=feminists hate men=therefore negative stereotypes of men are invented by feminists'."
It put me in mind of an exchange Mr. Shakes and I had recently. By way of background, when Mr. Shakes is or I am being an asshole (e.g. grumpypants attributable to lack of sleep), we tell the other, "Stop being an asshole." When one of us is being an asshole with issues (e.g. unusually inflexible about something unrelated but attributable to extended family stressors, feeling a lack of control at work, etc.), we sit down and hash it out. Mostly this means the target of the assholery telling its purveyor exactly why s/he's being an asshole until said asshole erupts in embarrassed and slightly evil laughter, exclaiming something along the lines of, "Fucking hell, you pegged me but good!" We know each other extremely well, and ergo can't hide (or get away with) much of what we think and feel, making working through most irritations pretty easy. Sometimes it's a little harder, a little closer to the bone, than that. Usually when the other sees something we don't want to see in ourselves.
This exchange was during one of those latter times. I had suggested that Mr. Shakes was doing something that was pissing me off because he held a latent sexist notion that it was his prerogative as The Man to do this specific thing, which is not an accusation I wield carelessly or often; I have little reason to, since Mr. Shakes is rationally egalitarian—and viscerally egalitarian for the most part, too. Anyway, we talked it out, and Mr. Shakes was generously honest, saying that, yeah, that was the reason he was doing it and, wow, he hadn't realized it, but, fook, that feeling was totally there, ick. Cool—no hard feelings; it's not like I've never been called out for deeply internalized bullshit. We move forward with a new understanding.
It took a long time to get there, though, and at one point, Mr. Shakes had said, "You knoo, if you weren't a feminist, this proobably wooldn't even boother you."
I replied, "No, if I weren't a feminist, it would still bother me, but instead of acknowledging that you're an indoctrinated member of a patriarchy just like I am, I'd just think you were being a lousy shithead."
He chewed on that for a moment, and then said, "Fook."
I think it was the first time that Mr. Shakes really understood down to his very bones that feminism is not something women use to find problems, but to address them. Feminism doesn't make me see problems that aren't there, but it certainly helps me find solutions I otherwise might not.
Charges of "hypersensitivity" regularly lobbed at feminist bloggers often contain overt or covert reference to the notion that it is only because of feminism that women react negatively to sexist t-shirts, inequality in the workplace, "mankind," and all manner of offense and discrimination—as if no woman would ever take issue with many of these things were it not for the nefarious agenda of feminism to turn women into affront-spying machines, reacting with indignation as often as possible. (Never mind the obvious logical query of whence, then, did feminism come.) The truth is, it's not that being groped on the subway by male passengers wouldn't bother me if feminism didn't exist; feminism simply provides the tools to analyze and prescribe solutions based on a context larger than my immediate experience. "That guy grabbed my boob" is a very different thought than "A patriarchy consigns women's bodies to community property, and that guy just acted on that principle to the extreme, the dirty fuck." The distinction is important because it immediately redirects responsibility for prevention away from the victim by identifying a cultural imperative that must be challenged—and in so acknowledging that imperative, it also recognizes that we all, men and women, are socialized.
(I don't mean to suggest that socialization is an excuse for sexist behavior, particularly not for sexual harassment or assault. It is not. It is, however, an explanation, and is thusly a necessary part of developing an effective solution for it.)
Implicit, then, in feminism is not only the belief, but the expectation, that men are not infantile—nor stupid, useless, inept, emotionally retarded, or any other negative stereotype feminists have been accused of promoting—but instead our equals just as much as we are theirs, capable not only of understanding feminism (and feminists), but of actively and rigorously engaging challenges to their socialization, too. Feminists, of course, have the terrible reputation, but it isn't we who consider all men babies, dopes, dogs, and potential rapists. The holders of those views, I think you'll find, are the women and men who root for the patriarchy—which itself, after all, takes a rather unpleasantly dim view of most people.
Men Are 
Babies
Sacred and Profane
Just Spotted
On my way back from a morning errand: A sign in a front yard reading "Jesus for Sheriff."
The position of sheriff here is an elected one, and it was on the midterm ballot just a month ago. Jesus is obviously starting his campaign for the next election super early.
Don't Cry for Them, America
I don't know about you, but I've been very concerned about the departing members of Congress who won't be back next time, wondering whatever will they do with themselves. "Will Mike DeWine land on his feet?" I wonder, laying awake at night, restless with anxiety. "Will there be a lux think tank job to cushion Jim Leach’s fall?" Luckily, the AP has found fit to assuage my plagued mind.
Rep. Mike Sodrel, a millionaire trucking magnate who lost to Baron Hill, the Democrat he beat two years ago, will "probably go home and drive a truck for a couple of weeks to get centered again." Rep. Sherwood Boehlert will be joining the Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars. Rep. Jim Leach is "sifting through offers from prestigious East Coast universities—Georgetown, Harvard and Princeton among them—as well as schools in his Midwestern home state" of Iowa, and Sen. Mike DeWine is likewise talking to universities.
Meanwhile, Sen. Conrad Burns says he’s "the age where I'd like to enjoy my granddaughter," allowing us to fondly reminisce about his chronic failure to consider how something will sound once it's out of his mouth. And Sen. Bill Frist is "going to live in the very same house that I was born in 54 years ago," which sounds kind of charming until you realize it's only because his White House new house isn't ready yet. He also plans to "join missions overseas once more, as a doctor ministering to the poor," although it's not clear whether he'll be traveling or simply diagnosing via webcam.
Godspeed, gentlemen—and may the American workforce be as kind to you upon your return to its private ranks as you have been to the least of its workers.
(Crossposted at Ezra's place.)
Pinochet is Dead
Former Chilean leader General Augusto Pinochet has died.
The general entered a Santiago hospital a week ago after a heart attack. He was thought to be recovering when his condition suddenly worsened on Sunday.Which makes him luckier than any of the thousands of people who "disappeared" during his 17-year rule. Adios, Augusto.
..."He died surrounded by his family," the hospital's Dr Juan Ignacio Vergara told reporters.
An Open Letter
Dear Rahm Emanuel,
I hate being disappointed. I also hate being lied to. And more than just about anything else, I hate bloviating sanctimoniousness. Looks like you hit the trifecta, douchebag.
Love,
Shakespeare’s Sister
News from Shakes Manor
So we’re just sitting around watching a movie, and the cats are doing their usual chase-each-other-around-the house thing. Matilda chases Olivia—zip! Olivia chases Matilda—zoom! When one catches the other, they turn into a huge ball of tumbling fur, hissing and faux-biting and flipping their tails madly. This is The Funnest Game Ever, and they can literally do this for hours on end.
One thing about this game is that it’s almost always on the floor. Olivia loves to climb up to the highest place in the room; she loves running along the loft railing, which makes my stomach turn every time she does it. Matilda, on the other hand, doesn’t care for heights; jumping onto the bathroom sink is a zany move for her. So the highest The Funnest Game Ever usually gets is the back of the sofa, and even that’s pretty rare.
Today, it made it to the back of the sofa for several unremarkable rounds through the loft—but then, all of a sudden, with Olivia in hot pursuit, Matilda goes tearing from the back of the sofa to the back of the chaise, keeps running full steam ahead, and does an absolutely mad kamikaze leap over the railing of the loft.
And it’s a long way down.
Like 20 feet.
Then there’s this thunk, and Mr. Shakes and I just stare at each other, gape-mouthed, for a moment before we jump up and race downstairs. “Tilsy! Tilsy!” We ran around frantically looking for her, and I found her under the dining room table, looking like she’d just, uh, done a swan dive off a balcony for no fucking reason and was trying to figure out why she’s made such an insane decision. “Found her!” I called to Mr. Shakes.
“Is she ookay?” he asked. “Fook!”
I coaxed her out from under the table, fearing the worst. She had a lot of momentum going into that jump, and she hit the hardwood floor below with some serious thuddiness. Cats really don’t always land on their feet, and around 20ft is when nasty injuries can occur even for cats that aren’t big and graceless like Tils. I was sure all her legs would be broken or popped out of joint. I can’t really begin to explain how panicked I was.
Well, Matilda came sauntering out, looking a little sore and limpy, but she was definitely walking on all fours. I picked her up and she gave an annoyed squeal, which she always does, and I poked and prodded her until she wriggled away. Mr. Shakes and I looked at each other, then watched her walk down the hall. She has the most absurd wee swagger on a normal day—it’s utterly comical to watch her run about the place—but suddenly I couldn’t tell if she was exhibiting her normal weirdness, or if there was new, thud-related weirdness.
“She has such a funny walk anyhow,” I grumbled.
“She’s too furry,” Mr. Shakes complained. I can’t tell.”
“I can’t either,” I replied.
We followed her into the office and I got on the floor to play String, which is The Second Best Game in the World, and after a few minutes of taking it easy on her, I dangled the string about a foot over her head. She shot up like a bolt of lightning onto her two back legs and went for that string like it was it was the devil, tearing it right out of my hands.
“I think she’s okay,” I laughed.
“Yeah,” Mr. Shakes said. “I think soo.”
We played String for another half hour or so, and then Matilda got tuckered out and crawled into her favorite chair. Olivia joined her and gave her some sisterly comfort preening.
And then it was naptime.
Once she wakes up and has some energy again, I’ll be poking at her some more and working her legs, just to make sure she didn’t appear pain-free from adrenaline or shock, even though enough time had probably passed that it isn’t a concern. Nonetheless, I still can’t believe she didn’t hurt herself, so I just want to make absolutely certain she didn’t.
I have no idea what possessed her to do such a crazy thing. All this time, I’ve been worried about Olivia slipping and falling off the railing, and then Matilda goes and leaps over it like she’s a PCP-user in a 1980s after-school special. It’s impossible to make sense of anything she does—scared to death of sneezes, but attacks the vacuum cleaner head-on with such ferociousness that it’s like she’s settling a personal vendetta. She’s such a barmy fuzzball, that one. Which is, of course, why I love her endlessly, but I really hope that one flying leap from the loft is enough to satisfy whatever madness prompted it in the first place!
Pathetic
Almost two months after Jeff Stein revealed in the New York Times that most of the counterterrorism officials and members of Congress to whom he’d spoken couldn’t tell him the difference between a Sunni and a Shiite, he finds out that incoming Democratic House Intelligence Chair Silvestre Reyes, who believes we need more troops in Iraq, also can’t tell them apart. Worse yet, he doesn’t seem to know the most basic facts about Al Qaeda, thinking them to be a combination of Sunni and Shia, but “predominantly—probably Shiite.”
Al Qaeda is what, I asked, Sunni or Shia?Apparently so. But then again, there’s only so much you can expect from someone when you’re only paying him $165,200 a year and requiring him to work three days a week.
“Al Qaeda, they have both,” Reyes said. “You’re talking about predominately?”
“Sure,” I said, not knowing what else to say.
“Predominantly — probably Shiite,” he ventured.
He couldn’t have been more wrong.
Al Qaeda is profoundly Sunni. If a Shiite showed up at an al Qaeda club house, they’d slice off his head and use it for a soccer ball.
That’s because the extremist Sunnis who make up a l Qaeda consider all Shiites to be heretics.
Al Qaeda’s Sunni roots account for its very existence. Osama bin Laden and his followers believe the Saudi Royal family besmirched the true faith through their corruption and alliance with the United States, particularly allowing U.S. troops on Saudi soil.
It’s been five years since these Muslim extremists flew hijacked airliners into the World Trade Center.
Is it too much to ask that our intelligence overseers know who they are?
Reyes also could not correctly identify Hezbollah as Shia, making one wonder how on earth he has even the faintest comprehension of the civil conflict in Iraq, or why, just like Al Qaeda, Hezbollah has an interest in it. And the two have opposing interests, specifically because one is Sunni and one is Shia.
Reyes tries to explain himself by describing the situation as “complex” and saying although “we ought to expend some effort into understanding them…speaking only for myself, it’s hard to keep things in perspective and in the categories.” This is unmitigated bullshit used to mask criminal laziness and dereliction of duty. As Ezra says, “I've read at least a couple books on the Middle East, terrorism, and Iraq. And believe me: You can't get through the intro of these books without being treated to an extended disquisition on the differences between Sunnis and Shiites, who falls where, and how their ancient enmity set the stage for all that has come since. What Reyes' ignorance means isn't that he's got a poor memory for categories: It's that he's not made even basic efforts to educate himself on the relevant concepts.” Absolutely right. The most cursory exploration of the multitude of relevant literature makes continued ignorance on this subject nearly impossible, as a delineation of the differences are so fundamental, so crucial, to understanding these issues, that it is, as Ezra says, the first thing you’ll read in any text.
There’s not a single elected official in this country who has any legitimate excuse for not knowing the most basic aspects of the terrorist groups who have targeted Americans and have a vested interest in control of Iraq. Such astonishing ignorance is not only irresponsible, it’s incompetent—and we’ve had enough of fucking incompetence in Congress these past few years to last us a very long time. I don’t give a good shit whether there’s an R or a D after your name: If you don’t know this stuff, especially when you’re the incoming Intelligence Chair, you’re not doing your goddamned job. Period.
The Virtual Bar Is Open
Woot! It's Friday Night, Shakers!
And what better place to virtually belly up to the bar than Dirty Dick's, one of Edinburgh's finest?
Tonight, if you can be prevailed upon, give us your best limerick about your favorite member of the Bush administration. I'll let Mad Kane start us off:
Unanimous yeses for Gates,
Cause it's clear that he has what it takes
To be better than Rummy.
He isn’t a dummy!!!
That's life in our Bush-induced straits.
Yee-haw!
The ethics committee worked slowly
In their contemplation of Foley.
And on their last day,
They found one more way
To proclaim the GOP holy.
Your turn, Shakers. And what are ya drinking...?
You Wanna See Tough?
I've been saving this for a day when it seemed like we all needed a laugh. So, okay, maybe it's just me and Tart, but that's enough.
Via Recon, natch, who describes it as "a video of the world's toughest men demonstrating their extremely lethal fighting techniques. And by extremely lethal I mean ludicrously inept. Still, I'd pay in the tens of dollars for these guys to protect the moat around my future post-apocalyptic bunker."
I totally went to middle school with all these dudes. They had the same mad skillz back then, the demonstration of which they saved for special occasions like "waiting for the bus" and "standing around during fire drill."
Meh
Is it a slow news day, or am I just unusually disinterested in everything I'm reading? Maybe I'm just suffering a listless malaise at the thought of the 109th Congress coming to an end after all its spectacular successes.
Foley Ethics Report Released
On the last day of the 109th Do-Nothing Congress, they decide to—brace yourselves—do nothing:
The House ethics committee has found that Republican leaders did not break any rules in handling allegations against former Rep. Mark Foley, but that they were negligent in protecting the teenage pages, a congressional report said.The committee found that the “failure to exhaust all reasonable efforts to call attention to potential misconduct involving a member and House page is not merely the exercise of poor judgment; it is a present danger to House pages and to the integrity of the institution of the House” and that “a pattern of conduct was exhibited among many individuals to remain willfully ignorant of the potential consequences of former Represenative Foley's conduct.” But it’s nobody’s fault, really.
No one will be reprimanded, the source said.
I guess they couldn’t find a bingo-playing woman to pin it on.
(You can read the whole 91-page report here, if you are so inclined.)
Crybaby Rumsfeld Heads Into the Sunset, Still as Delusional as Ever
Don’t let the door hitcha where evolution splitcha:
Leaving office soon, Defense Secretary Donald H. Rumsfeld bade a sometimes emotional farewell, saying the single worst day of his nearly six years there was when he learned of the Abu Ghraib prisoner abuse in Iraq.That was a pretty crappy one for all the rest of us too, Donzo.
Rumsfeld choked up briefly while recalling a woman in Alaska giving him a bracelet last August as a reminder of the sacrifices by soldiers of the Army's 172nd Stryker Brigade, whose year-long tour in Iraq was extended by four months to help try to quell sectarian violence in Baghdad. Showing it still on his wrist, Rumsfeld recalled that he told the woman he would wear the green bracelet until the 172nd came home.And then, I’m not making this up, although it sounds like one of the fake additions I typically employ, he launched into a homily on how the US needs to have the “patience and…staying power” to remain in Iraq and Afghanistan indefinitely. So, I can only assume Rumsfeld has left instructions he’s to be buried in that bracelet.
"As I leave at the end of my second - and, good Lord willing, my last - (term) I do leave believing as I did 30 years ago that America is a truly great nation, that the American people are wise and decent," he said.Hmm. Your opinion of some other people seems to have changed, though…
He was introduced on the stage by Pace, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, who lauded Rumsfeld as a man of courage, integrity and vision.Somebody get me a sick sack, because I’m gonna hurl.
"This man's work ethic is incredible," Pace said. "Is he demanding? You bet." Rumsfeld then interrupted, saying with a laugh, "No! I've been on my best behavior."
Something else that you can't eat
Seems like only yesterday that the Great American Spinach Scare was in full swing, with the grisly specter of Escherichia coli and its portents - severe diarrhea, projectile vomiting, kidney failure, and, uh, death - looming over the national psychescape. Well, that threat came and went, only to replaced by the Menace of the Green Onions (or the Scallions, for the hoity-toity). This time, on a corporate level, it's Taco Bell that's feeling queasy:
As many as 84 people in seven states have been confirmed as having the strain of E. coli bacteria involved in an outbreak that may be linked to Taco Bell restaurants, officials said Friday.South Carolina and Utah are the latest states to report outbreaks of the illness. State and federal agencies are still trying to pin down the source, but the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention says the vast majority of the reported cases had eaten at Taco Bell restaurants before falling ill.
Dr. Greg Braden of the CDC said his agency and state health departments have not seen any other sources of the illness and are zeroing in on Taco Bell and its suppliers of green onions.
For those keeping score at home, those states reporting outbreaks in the as-yet-undeclared-epidemic are New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Connecticut, South Carolina and Utah.
What's on the radarscope here at Waveflux is the supply chain: a New Jersey food distribution warehouse operated by McLane Foodservice, a food processing plant also in Jersey and operated by Ready Pac, the grower Boskovich Farms which is located in California. If any or all of these nodes in the great green onion chain of being also supplies this foodstuff to other restaurants, or to other food manufacturers, or to groceries, then we have a much larger issue - not that scallions are as popular as spinach, but the worry of wider contamination is there.
Now as before, it's best to remind people that you can't just wash E. coli contamination away, so please don't try. Best to do without green onions for a while.
(Urgh. Cross-posted.)
Whatever the problem is, I’m quite sure it can be blamed on a woman.
In Double, Double Toil and Trouble, Katha Pollitt correctly identifies some of the most troubling problems plaguing us today that are totally women’s collective fault: rape, gay preachers, Iraq, illegal immigration, grousing, bad dogs, childhood obesity, and national ruin. It’s a good start, but the list is incomplete, to be sure. Like, what about pedophilia, for instance? Everyone knows that behind every heinous pedophile, there’s a liable woman:
A man who pleaded guilty to molesting two girls told a judge he did it because of his wife's excessive bingo playing.There was a perv, had an excuse, and bingo was its name-o!
"My wife was never home," Floyd Kinney Jr. said during his plea hearing Friday.
…Kinney, 49, said his wife would sometimes argue with him over money and that he was angry she was spending too much on bingo.
"She would be going to bingo three, four times a week. I told her to stop going to bingo, and she said, 'If they had bingo every day, I'd go every day,"' he said.
Kinney’s defense attorney said “his client was not articulate and may have not been doing a good job of conveying his rationale,” but Northampton County Judge F.P. Kimberly McFadden was having none of that shit, bitchez.
"I think he is telling me exactly what was going on," the judge said. "His wife was not home so he was going to perpetrate on someone and he picked these two children."And some go out and molest underage girls! Potato, potahto. Can you really blame a man for what he does when his wife leaves him alone?! If he’s left to ramble aimlessly around the house with no one over whom to exert arbitrary control to make himself feel manly, well, shee-it. What do you expect will happen? He’s only human, for god’s sake.
…"Some people, when their wives are not home, decide to do other things, like clean their living rooms," McFadden said.
Chicago Man Arrested for Terror Plot
I suspect this will be an interesting story to follow through the rest of the day…
Not a ton of information on this yet, even from local affiliates, but Goat Throat is already reporting about it breathlessly. They’ve got 24 hours a day to fill, bitchez! Here’s the scoop so far:
A man was arrested in the Chicago area on Friday for allegedly plotting to attack Rockford, Ill., over the holidays, officials told NBC News.The Trib has precious little info, but they report the attack was meant to be carried out on a shopping mall—which is slightly different from attacking “Rockford, Illinois.” Like I said, it will be interesting to see this one unfold.
The plan involved a bombing and a shooting, the officials said.
The man had no accomplices and was not part of a terrorist cell, sources said on condition of anonymity.
…The plan was allegedly ideologically motivated.
The guy’s supposed to appear in court later today, so we might find out then what his “ideological motivations” were. Btw, the US Atty on the case is Patrick Fitzgerald, back on home turf.
UPDATE: Sounds like another genius: "Derrick Shareef, 22, of Rockford, was arrested when he met with an undercover agent in a parking lot to trade a set of stereo speakers for four hand grenades and a handgun. ... Federal officials said that in September, Shareef became acquainted with a witness who was cooperating with the FBI and confided to him that he wanted to commit acts of 'violent jihad,' as well as other crimes." I am, of course, reminded of the ding-dongs who were busted while seeking terrorists boots and uniforms.
