[Trigger warning for anti-Semitism.]
In an editorial arguing that "Mrs. Palin is well within her rights to feel persecuted" and defend her use of the phrase "blood libel," the conservative garbage-paper The Washington Times calls efforts to hold her accountable for her reckless use of violent rhetoric "simply the latest round of an ongoing pogrom against conservative thinkers."
Yes. Seriously. A pogrom.
I don't even know what to say anymore.
In Shit I Couldn't Make Up
Friday Blogaround
This blogaround brought to you by Shaxco, proud distributors of BEAUTIFUL RONALD REAGAN CAKES. Happy Birthday, Mama Shakes!
Recommended Reading:
crunktastic: Meeting My Sister
Cara: "This is a maid." [TW for sexual assault and rape apology.]
Andy: First Gay Couples Married in Canada Celebrate Tenth Anniversary
scatx: On Rising Food Prices and Why They're a Problem
Pam: Chicago's Cardinal Francis George on Marriage [TW for homophobia]
Rana: Scraping By
Leave your links in comments...
And Never the Twain Shall Meet, Part II
[Trigger warning for violence.]
In Part I, I argued that the national abortion debate in the US did not get more civil as much as go away. And it's certainly not because the two sides have declared a detente: Roe is constantly in danger of being rendered an empty statute as anti-choicers strike at its heart in steady degrees on the state level.
As I've written before, anti-choice activists, in conjunction with the GOP, have successfully chipped away at abortion rights on the federal and state levels for two decades, hollowing the right guaranteed by Roe via "partial-birth abortion bans" and "parental consent laws" and state legislatures that refuse to fund clinics offering abortions and local municipalities creating barriers with zoning laws.
A lot of progressives treat legal abortion like an on-off switch and Roe as a magical abortion access password, but it's not remotely that simple. Legal abortion is only worth as much as the number of women who have reasonable and affordable and unencumbered access to it. That number is dwindling: By 2000, less than a third of the incorporated counties in the US had abortion clinics.
That's not just inconvenience—between travel expenses and time off work along, the cost of securing an abortion can become an undue burden.
And instead of the national conversation about abortion access getting louder in the wake of this assault on women's rights, it has gone virtually silent.
Because violent rhetoric is a successful silencing technique.
Especially when it's clearly associated with actual violence and destruction. That makes decent people more reluctant to vehemently defend their position, creates a nagging thought in the back of their minds that they're accountable just for speaking up if they know that speaking up will elicit violent rhetoric in response.
If we're all very quiet, maybe no more doctors will get killed.
The people who use violent rhetoric, and violence, bank on that response. They provoke until Something Bad Happens, and they count on their opponents' decency, which they exploit for maximum gain.
In the void of noise where our volatile national abortion debate used to be, there is the slow but certain erosion of women's bodily autonomy.
And we're admonished to be quiet about that. Just to make sure no one else gets hurt.
Meanwhile, we've got a Democratic president whose greatest legislative accomplishment is also "the most expansive restriction on access to abortion Congress has passed," who considers acceptable company a man who equates abortion with the Holocaust and admonishes anyone who objects that "we can disagree with about being disagreeable," who wants pro-choice women to "find common ground" with people who deny their basic autonomy, and who invents straw-women to play concern troll on abortion.
That's what violent rhetoric seeks to accomplish: Surrender on a national scale, because decent people don't want to inflame irresponsible jackasses who will stop at nothing to win.
The only thing to do is be honest about this reality as loudly as possible.
Not more silence. Less.
Speaking of runaway government spending
Since I'm apparently on the Twin Cities beat, here's a fun story from City Pages, a local weekly:
"The Twin Cities activists who had their homes raided by the FBI last September are starting to learn more about why they're being investigated by a Chicago grand jury in relation to material support of terrorism.
Lawyers for the activists have learned from prosecutors that the feds sent an undercover law enforcement agent to infiltrate the Twin Cities Anti-War Committee in April 2008, just as the group was planning its licensed protests at the Republican National Convention."
"[Agent 'Sullivan'] 'really took an interest,' [Anti-War Committee member Jess] Sundin said. 'It raised some suspicions among other members at first, but after the other undercover agents from the RNC Welcoming Committee came out, and no in our organization did, we figured we didn't have any. Besides, we didn't think we had anything we needed to be secretive about.'
Sullivan began to take on more responsibilities with the organization, chairing meetings, handling the group's bookkeeping, and networking with dozens of other organizations."
Wow. Nice work keeping America safe from America, FBI.
America. :jazz hands:
--
It's a bit off-topic, but LOL @ "Karen Sullivan"'s backstory. She's a lesbian. Who lives in Seward. Who spent time working on activism in Northern Ireland. And likes the Red Sox. It's not that there's anything wrong with at least three of those things; I wouldn't be shocked to hear members of the Twin Cities Anti-War Committee possess any of those traits. It's just: holy. fucking. stereotypes.
And Never the Twain Shall Meet
[Trigger warning for violence and a description of a perineum tear.]
Paul Krugman makes some excellent points in his column "A Tale of Two Moralities," like, for instance:
[T]he truth is that we are a deeply divided nation and are likely to remain one for a long time. By all means, let's listen to each other more carefully; but what we'll discover, I fear, is how far apart we are. For the great divide in our politics isn't really about pragmatic issues, about which policies work best; it's about differences in those very moral imaginations Mr. Obama urges us to expand, about divergent beliefs over what constitutes justice.Yes. Absolutely. Spot-on. It can't be said how truly thrilled I am to see that point made by a widely-read commentator.
And the real challenge we face is not how to resolve our differences — something that won't happen any time soon — but how to keep the expression of those differences within bounds.
But I really take issue with his example here:
In a way, politics as a whole now resembles the longstanding politics of abortion — a subject that puts fundamental values at odds, in which each side believes that the other side is morally in the wrong. Almost 38 years have passed since Roe v. Wade, and this dispute is no closer to resolution.Maybe this appears to be true from where Mr. Krugman, a progressive but not a reproductive rights activist, is sitting, but it is, in fact, dangerously wrong.
Yet we have, for the most part, managed to agree on certain ground rules in the abortion controversy: it's acceptable to express your opinion and to criticize the other side, but it's not acceptable either to engage in violence or to encourage others to do so.
The only reason it appears that we have achieved civility in the abortion debate is because the Democrats and other prominent liberals have abdicated their role as public champions of choice, standing by idly as anti-choice activists chip away at Roe on the state level. When, for example, the anti-choice Attorney General for the state of Virginia, Ken Cuccinelli, circumvented the state's general assembly by issuing a legal opinion that redefined abortion clinics in a way that created significant barriers for small clinics to stay open, neither of the two (male) Democratic Senators from that state even bothered issuing a perfunctory press release.
Abortion opponents hardly need to resort to violent rhetoric when the alleged defenders of choice can't actually be arsed to defend it.
And on the frontlines of the abortion fight, things look very different. When Angie Jackson live-blogged her abortion last year to demystify the process, the response was not universally civil, to put it politely. Clinics get bomb threats, which aren't exactly civil. Women seeking abortions at those clinics frequently need escorts to navigate screaming picketers, who aren't inclined toward civility. I am hardly a full-time reproductive justice advocate, yet my inbox—and, I imagine, the inboxes of most writers and activists who dedicate any time at all to reproductive issues—receives missives that I will also charitably describe as less than civil, not that I don't appreciate pictures of bloody fetuses as much as the next steampunk abortion robot. The murder of Dr. George Tiller was not civil; it was an act of terrorism committed by a terrorist as part of one of the most brazen, unapologetic terrorist campaigns in America, its co-ordination and orchestration frequently done right out in the open—at meetings, on websites, in email alerts.
And, I know I'm just an exhaustingly tedious feminist hysteric and all, but I actually find the anti-choice position inherently violent, no matter how politely it is stated. If anyone else suggested that I should be forced to submit my body against my will to nine months of potential discomfort and pain, followed by an act that might include the skin and muscle between my vagina and anus being torn open, I don't think we'd mince words about whether they were using violent rhetoric. But because we can couch it in the bullshit terminology of "a pro-life position," that's supposed to be evidence of civility.
Krugman might well note that he did stipulate it is only "for the most part" that the abortion debate is free from violent rhetoric. But I fear that's only true because we've largely ceased to have that debate in public square on a national scale. The Democrats have left it to the choice orgs and activists, and the Republicans have left it to the anti-abortion extremists.
It's the Democrats' dereliction of duty, and the mendacious nature of the debate which masks its inherent violence, that enables the Republicans to appear civil about abortion. I wouldn't exactly hold that up as a model for achieving better public discourse.
My neighbor is kinda a bigot
[Trigger warning for homophobia]
Former Minnesota Governor Tim Pawlenty has written a book.
That's the joke.
Okay, not really. Presidential hopeful (also not the joke) Pawlenty was on right-wing [TW] talk radio to promote, well, Tim Pawlenty. It turns out he hates gay people. Still.
"I have been a public and repeat supporter of maintaining Don't Ask, Don't Tell. There's a lot of reasons for that, but if you look at how the combat commanders and the combat units feel about it, the results of those kinds of surveys were different than the ones that were mostly reported in the newspaper and that is something I think we need to pay attention to. But I have been a public supporter of maintaining Don't Ask, Don't Tell and I would support reinstating it as well."
:yaaaaaaawn:
Anyhow, since T-Paw has decided to share his autobiography with the world (for $27), I thought it was fair that I opened up, too.
Tim Pawlenty got his start in politics in Eagan, Minnesota. I grew up in Burnsville, the next town over. As much as I don't often admit it, T-Paw and I both have ties to Dakota County, south of the Twin Cities. So we're a lot alike.
When I was a sophomore in high school, some guy started a fire at Edina High School. Edina is known (and widely derided) as one of the suburbs west of Minneapolis where folks in upper management live. The fire singed an entryway, and was quickly extinguished by the sprinkler system.
A few days later the same guy started a fire at Burnsville High School. (Go Blaze!) (Yes, I know.) My high school (part of a district that includes a sliver of Eagan, BTW) was gutted. Several months earlier, the middle-managers* (and middle-manager wannabes) in the district had rejected a referendum that would have installed sprinklers in the school. Too expensive.
Understand that this is Tim Pawlenty's base.
When I was safely in college, I had a summer job doing mosquito control. It was fun-- I still miss parts of it. Very rarely, I got to work in northern Dakota County. This was always scary. Not because I got to walk around thousands of acres of swamp and marsh by myself (:sigh: male privilege), but because having to talk to the public was a constant threat.
When I worked closer to The Cities, people would occasionally chat with me. 'Hey cool, it's some kid in the government poison truck.' Nothing unusual. Mostly folks seemed disappointed that it was over-the-counter poison. We'd joke about the awesome stuff they used to spray back in the day. Trucks full of poison are part of the urban experience, I guess.
People in Burnsville and Eagan didn't necessarily mind the poison. Usually, they'd want to talk about the government. Or some guy would want to tell me about how his "boy" had this great career. This always seemed displaced, because I was 19-years-old and driving a poison truck that had an AM-radio and multiple flashing lights.
Occasionally, there'd be talk of "those people." Usually, it'd be said in hushed tones, with shifty eyes, as if someone was waiting behind the cattails for the right moment to spring forth bearing food laced with actual spices.
As I drifted away from the county, things got weirder and weirder on my return visits. I'd even see people with cowboy hats on rare occasions. Which was odd, because there is exactly one bull in Dakota County (outside of South Saint). I know this, because I've met him.
On each visit, it seemed like people were driving bigger and bigger cars, with bigger and bigger tires. Aside from making it easier to run bicycles off the road, this never struck me as serving much purpose. Most people seemed to drive between their jobs in middle-management, Target, and church, none of which involved driving up mountains.
And the churches! Shortly after my high school was remodeled, a remember a evangelical church moving in on Sundays. The last time I was in Dakota county (it's been a few years; my family has moved to the city, and I do my best to stay there), it seemed like there were megachurches everywhere.
There were billboards for these churches, too. They always showed a guy (the pastor) with his arms around his wife (also a pastor, but not really). Their faces tended to have happy yet vacant stares-- the kind you'd have after having sex, or whatever the fuck evangelical pastors publicly admit to doing for fun.
My church-going experience is largely limited to various Lutheran churches in Minnesota and Wisconsin, you know, the ones Garrison Keillor tells unamusing stories about. But if I'm to believe my tv, these are the kinds of megachurches that have escalators and stadium scoreboards, and lasers and cool shit hanging down from the ceiling so that the pastor can drop some David Blaine style awesomeness while delivering a sermon about why Jesus is the bomb but lots of living people aren't.
My people are, by-and-large, a church revering people. That said, the reverend (Is he a reverend or a pastor? Do I care?) is pretty intimidating. We're much too shy to approach him about the whole government (ewwwww) thing. So we picked the self-important guy who parks cars at the megachurch, and asked if he'd mind taking care of the government for us. And Tim Pawlenty has.
--
At this point, you've probably got one or two issues:
1) What the
2) OMG, I'm from Dakota County, Minnesota (or better yet, you're Tim Pawlenty, who probably spends several hours a day Googling himself and is now really embarrassed), and you can't just start telling a largely irrelevant story invoking crude stereotypes based on your extremely limited experiences. Dakota County's not like that at all! (And in fairness, there are any number of wonderful people back home-- it's just that there are also people who aren't.)
And that's precisely my point. Because I'm some lady having fun on the internet, I'm free to unleash my own bizarre autobiography that I've based on carefully-selected tidbits about my bizarre life in a bizarre place. However, and this is a big one-- my crude stereotypes are not a particularly good basis for national policy.
I strongly suspect I haven't lived as sheltered a life as Tim Pawlenty, so maybe, just maybe, he really is enough of a jackass to not know anything nuanced about queer people (you know, like that we're people). Maybe he's merely being disingenuous. Neither possibility qualifies him to be president.
--
*Not that all middle managers are assholes. I have it on good authority that Liss used to be a middle manager in another lifetime, and is actually still married to one. Mostly I object to people who think middle managerhood entitles them to trucknutz. Nobody is entitled to trucknutz.
"He literally went in the line of fire to save Gabby."
President Barack Obama greets Daniel Hernandez, a intern for Rep. Gabrielle Giffords who helped her after she was shot, at a memorial service in Tucson, Ariz., on the University of Arizona campus, Wednesday, Jan. 12, 2011. [AP Photo]This is a really nice piece on Daniel Hernandez, the intern without whose immediate care and attention Rep. Giffords would not be alive. He seems like a very neat guy.
It seems almost cruel to wish a fate of public office on someone, given the state of US politics, but I hope he continues to be involved in public service and, if he considers running himself someday, I wish for him two things: 1. Success. 2. A staff as dedicated as he is to Congresswoman Giffords.
One observation about the article: The fact that Hernandez is "a large man" is stuck in there so awkwardly, and without purpose. And it's interesting how differently the fact that he is fat is treated from the fact that he is gay and Latino. It's not treated as central to his identity, nor a qualifying attribute of a marginalized population, and there is certainly no effort to note that his courage and quick-thinking and decency and ethics contradict many stereotypes about fat people, even though the article includes this:
Hernandez, who is gay and Hispanic, has become a particular hero for those groups in recent days.Hernandez is a hero to this fat activist, too. For lots of reasons.
... In a time when both of those minorities have been at the center of heated, emotional debates about immigration and bullying, he has served as a model of reason and strength.
Ellen Stewart -- 1919-2011
We have lost a great voice for American theatre.
She was a remarkable force, even more so in a business that is tough enough without being a person of color and a woman. It is safe to say that without Ms. Stewart and La MaMa, the world would have missed out on some incredible talent and voices.Ellen Stewart, the founder, artistic director and de facto producer of La MaMa Experimental Theater Club, a multicultural hive of avant-garde drama and performance art in New York for almost half a century, died Thursday in Manhattan. She was 91. [...]
Ms. Stewart was a dress designer when she started La MaMa in a basement apartment in 1961, a woman entirely without theater experience or even much interest in the theater. But within a few years, and with an indomitable personality, she had become a theater pioneer.
Not only did she introduce unusual new work to the stage, she also helped colonize a new territory for the theater, planting a flag in the name of low-budget experimental productions in the East Village of Manhattan and creating the capital of what became known as Off Off Broadway.
She was a vivid figure, often described as beautiful — an African-American woman whose long hair, frequently worn in cornrows, turned silver in her later years. Her wardrobe was flamboyant, replete with bangles, bracelets and scarves. Her voice was deep, carrying an accent reminiscent of her Louisiana roots.
Few producers could match her energy, perseverance and fortitude. In the decades after World War II her influence on American theater was comparable to that of Joseph Papp, founder of the New York Shakespeare Festival, though the two approached the stage from different wings. Papp straddled the commercial and noncommercial worlds, while Ms. Stewart’s terrain was international and decidedly noncommercial.
Her theater became a remarkable springboard for an impressive roster of promising playwrights, directors and actors who went on to accomplished careers both in mainstream entertainment and in push-the-envelope theater.
Al Pacino, Robert De Niro, Harvey Keitel, F. Murray Abraham, Olympia Dukakis, Richard Dreyfuss, Bette Midler, Diane Lane and Nick Nolte were among the actors who performed at La MaMa in its first two decades. Playwrights like Sam Shepard, Lanford Wilson, Harvey Fierstein, Maria Irene Fornes and Adrienne Rich developed early work there. So did composers like Elizabeth Swados, Philip Glass and Stephen Schwartz.
La MaMa is the kind of theatre that I love; the home of spontaneous and energetic new efforts that can create magic out of an old chair and a rickety table on a bare stage. That is the way theatre really should be done; not the pre-packaged and over-produced thrill rides that pass for Broadway musicals now. There's a lot more meaning and truth in the "wooden O" that Shakespeare spoke of in Henry V or the bare stage of Our Town, and the legacy of these theatres, be it La MaMa in Greenwich Village, the Manhattan Rep (where my play Can't Live Without You was done in a shoebox-sized space over a Duane Reade store on West 42nd) or the basement of a church in Toledo or a vacant shoe store in Minneapolis, is that they are where the new plays, playwrights, and actors are born, grow, and outlast the multi-million-dollar turkeys on Broadway.
And had it not been for La Mama, chances are that playwright Lanford Wilson and director Marshall W. Mason would not have met and formed their collaboration that led to the creation of the Circle Rep Theatre, and I would not have had a topic for my doctoral thesis.
[Note: If there are less flattering things to be said about Ms. Stewart, they have been excluded because I am unaware of them, not as the result of any deliberate intent to whitewash her life. Please feel welcome to comment on the entirety of her work and life in this thread.]
Shameless
House GOP to resume health-care repeal effort, but with more civil tone: "House Republican leaders said Thursday that they will begin their effort to repeal the new health-care law next week, a return to normal legislative business after the shootings in Arizona suspended activity on Capitol Hill."
You know what every last Democrat in Congress needs to start shouting in front of every camera and into every microphone they can find...? That Rep. Gabrielle Giffords is only alive today because she had access to some of the best healthcare on the planet, which is paid for by the taxpayers of this nation, who deserve the same as she's got.
And let the Republicans contend with THAT.
The End.
Question of the Day
Suggested by Shaker Intransigentia: What are your "favourite words and phrases in languages other than English"?
I will add that if you are not a native English speaker, and prefer to answer with what your favorite English phrases are, that is entirely welcome, too!
I'm gonna give it up to je ne sais quoi. It just has a certain something about it.
Today in Jackasses
First up is a Walgreens pharmacist in Nampa, Idaho who refused to dispense bleeding control medication if the patient had an abortion:
NAMPA — Planned Parenthood of the Great Northwest has filed a letter of complaint with the Idaho Board of Pharmacy regarding the actions of a Nampa pharmacist.Planned Parenthood said Walgreens Corporate Office had taken some measure of corrective action with regards to the pharmacist. Ah, "conscience clauses"...you are such garbage.
Idaho Board of Pharmacy Executive Director Mark Johnston confirmed that the board received the complaint alleging that on Nov. 6 a Walgreens pharmacist refused to fill a prescription ordered by one of Planned Parenthood's Boise-based nurse practitioners. The prescription was for a Planned Parenthood patient for Methergine, a medicine used to prevent or control bleeding of the uterus following childbirth or an abortion.
[...]
Planned Parenthood officials said the complaint states that the pharmacist inquired if the patient needed the drug for post-abortion care. The nurse refused to answer the question based on confidentiality of health information.
According to Planned Parenthood, the pharmacist then stated that if the nurse practitioner did not disclose that information, she would not fill the prescription. The nurse alleged that the pharmacist hung up when asked for a referral to another pharmacy that would fill the prescription.
Next is the charming North Carolina state rep Larry Brown (R-Eprehensible) who wants to cut off funding for HIV/AIDS patients. But only certain HIV/AIDS patients:
State Rep. Larry Brown said during a discussion of his legislative goals for the year that the government should not spend money to treat adults with HIV or AIDS who "caused it by the way they live."Pretty much everything about your thinking there is garbage, Mr. Brown.
Brown, R-Forsyth, made the comments when asked by the Winston-Salem Journal to talk about his goals for the N.C. General Assembly session set to begin this month.
He began by discussing his support for a constitutional amendment limiting marriage to a union between one man and one woman, which would forestall any efforts to allow same-sex marriage.
He went on to say he thinks the government shouldn't spend money to treat HIV among people "living in perverted lifestyles."
"I'm not opposed to helping a child born with HIV or something, but I don't condone spending taxpayers' money to help people living in perverted lifestyles," said Brown, who ran unopposed in the November election to win a fourth term.
Brown wouldn't say Tuesday what he considers perverted, but did say that adults who get HIV through sexual behavior or drugs would be among those who should not be treated at government expense.
Daily Dose of Cute
Video Description: Dudley runs around the dog park like a wild thing on a bitterly cold day. It was just a desolate nightmare tundra out there, with the wind incessantly whipping around us like an aggrieved god with an ax to grind.
As soon as Dudley starts running, he heats up like a little oven. Meanwhile, Iain and I freeze our asses off. But, of course, we stay as long as Dudley wants, because puppeh love.
Earlier today, I put on Dudley's coat, because it's Baltic out there again, and he stood at the front door trying to pull it off with his teeth. I said, "Oh, you think you're all tough now, huh?" and opened the door. As soon as he got blasted with the cold air, he stopped pulling at it and gave me the greatest sheepish look ever.
He also took about three steps, pissed on a bush, and ran back to the house instantly, lol.
RIP Krissy Bates
[Trigger warning for violence, sexual assault, dehumanization, transphobia.]
Something I've been thinking about over the past couple of days is how a lot of the language of violence in this culture isn't actually explicitly violent. Marginalizing language is implicitly violent language, because people who are marginalized are at increased risk of violence.
I was thinking about this all day today, working a post in my head in the vague way that posts tend to do before I actually write them.
And then I read this article about Krissy Bates, a trans woman who is Minneapolis' first homicide victim of 2011, a trans woman we'll be remembering in November of this year, when we do the grim work of compiling the names of the dead for the Transgender Day of Remembrance.
Because that thought was in my head, how the language of marginalization is itself violent language, it was particularly difficult to read the truly abysmal coverage of Ms. Bates' death. "Formerly known as Christopher Bates." In the update, it's even worse: "The Medical Examiner released the victim's name as Christopher Paul Bates and determined him to be a white male."
No. Krissy Bates was a trans woman.
A trans woman who had recently been sexually assaulted and was concerned for her safety. Her building management reportedly refused to fix a broken window in her apartment, told her she'd have to pay for it herself.
The thing about the language of marginalization is that it also means marginalized people will make less money, too.
So someone crawled into Krissy's window, or maybe got through one of the malfunctioning security doors in the building, about which she and others had complained to no avail, and killed her. The cause of death was "complex homicidal violence." That means lots of injuries, often of different types. Way more than needed to make sure someone is dead.
Dallas Drake, principal research at Center for Homicide Research, explains: "We see in GLBT homicide, it's common to see overkill. Overkill is excessive wounding, more injury than what is necessary to cause the death. Or second, multiple types of wounds."
The kind of killing that really underlines what the difference between a regular old murder and a hate crime is.
The kind of killing done by someone who's internalized a lot of hatred drawn out of the language of marginalization, whose hate comes exploding out in a geyser of violence.
Yes, yes absolutely, the person who did this ugly thing is to blame. But we are all accountable for the culture in which this ugly thing happened.
I am accountable. I'm so sorry, Krissy.
I didn't know Krissy, and so I can't say anything about her, about what kind of person she was. I don't know if she was funny or smart or kind; I don't know what talents she had or how she wore her hair. It's strange to write about someone you never knew, and be so sad.
I don't know what else to say but this: I'm all in.
My sincerest condolences to all who knew her and loved her.
[H/T to Eastsidekate, who notes the Star Tribune's coverage is, unfathomably, even worse.]
Helpful Advice for Working Moms
The benevolent and generous Gwyneth Paltrow has magnanimously dedicated the latest issue of her "GOOP" newsletter—a revoltingly indulgent project in which she explains to the average peasant how very easy it is to be beautiful, fashionable, cultured, thin, and healthy, if only you put in a little effort, geez—to bestow upon her grotty but fortunate readers precious knowledge about "finding a good balance between having a career and being a mom."
After passing on advice from her two friends, millionaire venture capitalist Juliet de Baubigny and millionaire fashion designer Stella McCartney, two TOTALLY TYPICAL working moms, Gwyneth, another TOTALLY TYPICAL working mom, recounts "a random one of my more manic days from last November," followed by her own words of advice.
Listen and learn, Shakers. There's an expert about to drop some mad expertise on our asses.
Gwyneth’s day on November 4th, 2010:
6. DO NOT waste time hitting the return bar. Ever. Added up over a lifetime, the time the average working mother spends hitting the return bar can mean nearly six hours that could have been spent doing butt lifts and the like.
When I got downstairs this morning at the crack of whenever, the coffee machine said “ERROR 8” and wouldn’t let me make the cup I had been dreaming about. This begs the question: is it odd to dream yourself to sleep thinking about the next morning’s coffee? Not a good beginning. Got Apple all fed and dressed in her uniform and ready to go but no sign nor sight of Moses at 8 am and we have to be out of the house by 8:20. I went up to arouse the little man from slumber and he quite happily got up and crawled into my arms. We got downstairs and I made him a quick breakfast of eggs and toast followed by a spoonful of lemon flavored flax oil that I try to remember to give them both every morning. Getting everyone into the car on time was a challenge; we’re going through a phase where no one seems to be responding to me (“Time to put on your shoes” … No response.) It is the school Christmas toy drive deadline today so before jumping into the car, we pack up and finish decorating the shoe boxes with toys, toothbrushes, hats, scarves, books, etc, for the school Christmas toy drive. Once the kids really understand that the toys go to children around the world who will not be as fortunate as they are this year, they very sweetly take trips to the playroom adding their own toys and books to the boxes. Somehow managed to get to school just as the old-fashioned bell rang. Moses was a bit teary today so I hung around and watched him through the window. Periodically he would check to make sure I was still there. When all was well I dodged off as fast as possible but was still late to the 9 am workout. Did dance aerobics for 45 minutes then all of the butt lifts and the like. Rushed upstairs to have a shower, doing my post workout stretch while the conditioner was doing its magic on my hair to combine activities/save time. Dressed quickly and rushed downstairs. On a less manic day, this would be my couple of hours in the office to work on GOOP, come up with ideas, write/edit and go over scheduling, travel, whatever else I have going but I have no time so I just pop the old cabeza in to see if there are any deadlines or fires that need putting out. When I am given the all clear I rush out the door, headed to rehearse with a band to prepare for the Country Music Awards which are just a week away. I’ve never performed live before so I’m preparing for this as if it were the Superbowl, which, in it’s own way, it is. I’ve been having voice lessons with my teacher, Carrie Grant, every day and rehearsing with an amazing London-based band. This will be my fourth and shortest rehearsal of the week, as the day is so full, but I am excited to get in there and see everyone. Had to do my vocal exercises/warmups in the car, sooo not a good look. Fellow drivers looked on a bit bewildered. Rehearsed with the band from 11:30 to 12:30 and then scooted back out to the car and had kind of a big interview on the phone while trying to subtly check/reply to well-overdue email. Got home and had a fitting with super stylist Elizabeth Saltzman for the upcoming Nashville trip (what to wear, what to wear?) from 1-2. This is my 4th out of 5 fittings for this trip. We tried on a myriad of dresses and outfits, and I had b.o. by the end of it from wrestling with all of those dresses. I have six looks I need to choose for the trip; there’s the radio press conference upon arrival, the red carpet for the Country Strong premier, press interviews, a Sony Music VIP dinner, the red carpet for the CMA’s and the outfit for my performance! We manage to finalize all of the looks for the (very nerve wracking) trip. At 2 pm I head into my office with a nice cup of tea for two hours of phone interviews. I am doing lots of these this week, but today’s session is only two hours. I call country radio station after country radio station speaking to some of the nicest and friendliest DJ’s on the planet. Thursday is the one day of the week that I do not pick my kids up after school. They go straight to an activity and I am able to really maximize work stuff. I always feel a bit guilty (obviously) about it, but it means I can focus fully on them when they get home instead of trying to do two things at once. At 4pm, my weekly owners' and managers' call takes place for the Tracy Anderson Method with our brilliant CEO Stephanie Stahl taking the lead. I basically listen and try to learn. Kiddies burst through the door and play in my office while I finish up, just drawing and hanging out and of course playing Plants vs Zombies on the iPad, their obsession that I have to limit like crazy! What up, gamers. Then downstairs to make cupcakes for tomorrow’s bake sale. It is ‘Bonfire night’ in the UK tomorrow and the bake sale is to celebrate and to raise money for charity. We decide on vanilla cupcakes with pink icing and green icing (from Tate’s Bakeshop cookbook with the icing from American Desserts cookbook). At 6:30 pm we all get in the bath and it’s hair washing night for the kids (every other night—never popular). Then back downstairs to check on cupcakes and have a visit from an auntie and uncle. The kids indulge in a super sugary cupcake before bed but I don’t feel too bad because they had a brown rice stir fry for dinner with baked sweet potato on the side. It’s all about balance! My night to lay with Mosey so I tuck Apple in, say a prayer and go into Mosey's room for a story, foot massage and quiet time. As soon as all was quiet, I rushed downstairs to grab a blazer and some blush and flung myself in the car for girls night. Lovely dinner and great conversation. 11:29 pm now, exhausted and ready to do it all again tomorrow!
Gwyneth’s time saving tips:
1. Schedule your time well. When I know what I am doing from hour to hour I get more done. Write it all in the day’s calendar, what you want to accomplish and in what time frame.
2. Focus on the task at hand. Be thorough.
3. I cook a lot, especially on the weekends, so I like to plan a rough menu for the whole weekend and get the food in on Friday. Obviously stores and websites that deliver make this a dream. In London I use Ocado. Also James Knight, my favorite fishmonger, will deliver. Having all of the ingredients means I'm prepared even when I don't think I am.
4. I always lay the kids uniforms and school things out the night before once they are asleep. When it’s quiet I can check the "kid list" for show and tell items to bring in, consent forms, ballet kit, etc, so that the morning is less of a scramble.
5. The school run is a great time to return calls (in whichever direction that the kids are not in the car) so don't forget your hands-free device.
7. If you don't have a hands-free device, a good alternative is a personal driver.
8. Be rich. I can't recommend this enough. It also helps if you are very, very famous. I strongly advise against working a job with a rigid schedule or making less money than allows you to be able to quit working for the rest of your life at any time.
9. Be white and straight and cisgender and able-bodied and beautiful. THIS SAVES SO MUCH TIME! People who are not these things have to spend ridiculous amounts of time convincing people they are even human! Definitely not advisable for a mom on the go.
10. If your favorite fishmonger doesn't deliver, send one of your servants to pick up the fish.
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Seriously, all I could do while reading this is laugh and laugh and laugh. It's literally the best satire on privilege that I have ever read, the only catch being that it's not actually satire.
Look, I don't begrudge Gwyneth Paltrow treating going to the gym and getting fitted for dresses as a necessity, given the industry in which she works, which makes demands on her to maintain her appearance that I couldn't be arsed to oblige even if I'd been born looking like Gwyneth Paltrow in the first place. It's not what she's doing that I find hilarious: It's the fact that she reports all of this shit without seemingly even the tiniest, infinitesimal speck of awareness about what a ludicrously privileged lady she is.
And she thinks that she's laying some real solid advice on the working moms of the hoi polloi.
If she thinks getting b.o. from wrestling with dresses is terrible, she ought to talk to the women who sit in sweatshops stitching them together. Is all I'm saying.
And this sort of aspirational garbage that disappears the reality of the vast majority of women in this country, not to mention the rest of the world, isn't just insufferable; it's part and parcel of reinforcing the narratives of marginalization. Martha Stewart, Oprah, Gwyneth...there's this whole industry of women with relative privilege exhorting less privileged women to aspire to opulence and indulgence, to consume and achieve and reach for this very specific idea of a very specific kind of perfection, which will naturally always remain out of reach, taunting its pursuers with the incessant reminder that they don't measure up, that they aren't good enough.
There's nothing revolutionary, or particularly helpful, about privileged women telling less privileged women, "You should be just like ME!" If Gwyneth wants to do something to help women, she could try listening to women who don't have lives like hers and finding a way to convey from her vast platform that their voices and experiences are valuable, too.
[H/T to Gabe.]
Quote of the Day
[Trigger warning for sexual violence and institutional rape apologia.]
"We received information that Chief Saylor terminated an investigation by his department of a sexual battery of a child to keep a friend from going to jail."—Joyce Dawley, special agent-in-charge for the Florida Department of Law Enforcement, at a news conference yesterday in Orlando, commenting on the arrest of Windermere Police Chief Daniel Saylor, who allegedly refused to investigate his friend Scott Bush, who has also been arrested and "charged with sexual battery of a minor under 12, a capital offense, along with lewd and lascivious acts upon a minor, a third-degree felony."
No small amount of victim-blaming used against survivors of sexual violence is rooted in the misconception that police are universally interested in pursuing rapists.
This is not the case.
(My profound thanks to Special Agent Joyce Dawley, who is evidence that the reverse is not the case, either.)
Here Are Three Things That Are Totally Unrelated
And to suggest otherwise would be totally irresponsible, obviously. Each of these things exists in a void, drew on nothing from our existing culture, and contribute nothing to our existing culture. In fact, the entire idea of a culture is probably just the invention of some radical leftwinger with an anti-American agenda.
[Trigger warning for violence.]
1. Charles Turner Habermann has been arrested for threatening to kill Seattle Congressman Jim McDermott, who is, by total coincidence, a Democrat. Habermann, who used lots of Tea Party-type rhetoric about the Founding Fathers, made the two threatening phone calls on December 9. Also by total coincidence, on Dec. 9, Bill O'Reilly published a column attacking Congressman McDermott "for daring to suggest (while discussing whether to extend the Bush tax cuts) that Jesus might have been more concerned about helping the poor get their unemployment checks than he would in ensuring rich guys get their tax cuts."
[Click to embiggen.]
2. This billboard advertising Rush Limbaugh's radio show, calling him a "Straight Shooter," complete with faux bullet holes, stands in Tucson, scene of last weekend's deadly shooting by Jared Lee Loughner. Copyranter, whence comes the image, notes: "It's actually been there for quite some time. I know, because my girlfriend's mother lives in Tucson."
3. Glock Sales Increase After Arizona Shooting:
Yet another unsettling backlash of the Arizona shooting: glock pistols, just like the one used to attack kill six people last Saturday, are now flying off the shelves. Michael Riley at Bloomberg reports that one-day handgun sales have risen 65 percent in Ohio, 16 percent in California, 38 percent in Illinois, 33 percent in New York and 60 percent in Arizona from last year. Since Saturday the attendance list for a concealed weapons class at the Arizona Shooter’s World in Phoenix has already doubled. Riley quotes the stores manager who explains, "Whenever there is a huge event, especially when it's close to home, people tend to run out and buy something to protect their family."
Whatever happens, none of us should do any self-reflecting about whether we're taking in any unhealthy messages about violence or communicating any messages of violence, because that's just what the PC Police want! And fuck them.
Giffords Update
With the caveat that brain injuries are tricky and recovery is not necessarily linear, I want to pass on the very hopeful and joyful news that Rep. Gabby Giffords is, at the moment, doing very well:
Shot in the head less than a week ago, U.S. Rep. Gabrielle Giffords opened her eyes briefly for the first time Wednesday, with her husband, her parents and other members of Congress in the room.So much blub.
"It was extraordinary," said Sen. Kirsten Gillibrand, D-New York, who was holding Giffords' hand at the time. "It was a miracle to witness."
...Giffords was squeezing and stroking Gillibrand's hand, as doctors previously said she had been able to do.
Giffords "absolutely could hear everything we were saying," Gillibrand said. "And Debbie (Wasserman Schultz, D-Florida) and I were telling her how much she was inspiring the nation with her courage, her strength, and we were talking about the things we wanted to do as soon as she was better."
Gillibrand mentioned having another night out with Giffords and her husband for beer and pizza. And Wasserman Schultz recounted telling her, "Come on, you've got to get better, because we expect you up in New Hampshire this summer" at Wasserman Schultz's vacation home.
"And just as I said that, that's when she suddenly was struggling to open ... her eyes," Wasserman Schultz said. "First just a little bit. And the doctors couldn't believe it. They said, 'This is such a good time.' "
Kelly saw her struggling, Gillibrand said, and he and the others began to encourage her, saying, "Open your eyes, Gabby. Open your eyes."
And Giffords did -- actually opening only one eye, as the other remains bandaged, White House spokesman Robert Gibbs told reporters.
"She took a moment to focus, you could see she was focusing," Gillibrand said. "And then Mark said ... 'Gabby, if you can see me, if you can see me, give us a thumbs-up ... She didn't only give a thumbs-up, she literally raised her entire hand. We were just -- we couldn't stop crying ... It was just one of those moments that life brings you so rarely."
But Giffords didn't stop there, Gillibrand said. She reached out and grabbed her husband "and is touching him and starts to really choke him like she was really trying to hug him." He asked her to touch his wedding ring, "and she touches his ring, then she grabs his whole watch and wrist and then the doctor was just so excited, he said, 'You don't understand ... this is amazing what she is doing right now and beyond our greatest hopes.' "
There are five other patients injured in the shooting still being treated at the same hospital. None of them remain in critical condition, although two are still in serious condition.
The Overton Window: Chapter Thirty-Two
Hi there, chapter thirty-two! And hello to your companion, Part Three! Yes, we're starting Part Three. All these parts, it makes me feel like I'm reading Tolkien; this chapter being less than two pages, not so much.
Since this is a new section, an arc for our story, I thought it might be a good time to recap what's gone on since we started our little journey across the shire together. First, though, let's look at our friends in the tale:
Dullis Personae:
Noah Gardner: Presumed hero of the piece, maybe. PR genius, maybe. Patsy, definitely.
Molly Ross: Our Heroine. Teabagging lady and True Patriot. You go, girl!
Darthur: Bad guy. Noah's father. Runs PR for the New World Order.
Danny Bailey: Youtube star, teabagger and sometime weed dealer.
Stuart Kearns: FBI agent undercover posing as former FBI agent. Has a bomb.
Hollis: Teabagging manchild, gun aficionado. AKA Ragnar Benson, noted author.
Beverly Emerson: Molly's mother. Salt of the Earth™.
Charlie Nelan: Awesome Lawyer.
Warren Landers: Darthur's head of security and Sith Lord.
Elmer: Domestic terrorist, planning to nuke Harry Reid's office.
Pretty straightforward, right? I mean, I think that's everyone and their role here. The writing is a little muddy, so it's hard to tell who is good and who is bad in this tale. But knowing Beck as I do (we went to summer camp together, we still exchange Christmas cards) I am leaning toward the teabagger camp being the good guys, and the NWO being bad. (The NWO is always bad. It seems so unfair.) Noah is the wildcard, except, you know, he's In Love, and so, by the end of things I expect him to be teabagging right alongside Molly.
Previously on The Overton Window:
Noah meets Molly and falls in love almost immediately. They go to a teabagging show together where Beverly gives a speech and so does Danny. The show is raided and Hollis is tazed and Noah gets hit on the head. Awesome Lawyer Charlie gets everyone bailed out. Everyone but Danny. Noah and Molly spend the night not fucking. Kearns takes Danny undercover to sell a nuclear warhead to Elmer. Molly and Noah break into Darthur's office to snoop at a Powerpoint about the New World Order. Later, Molly drugs Noah and she and Hollis go back and steal the Powerpoint. Landers tells Noah he's a sap. Darthur tells Noah the NWO starts tomorrow.
So far, so good, right? That was totally worth 212 pages.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The good news here is there's less than 80 pages left in this story. And as a bonus, this chapter a mere two. I mean, that's good because it's a short chapter. On the other hand, it's not bringing us much closer to the finale.
Noah washes his face and takes a piss in "the elegant stall in the corner of his father's private restroom." (Really, that's a direct quote.) He then storms off down the hall, because if nothing else, this book features plenty of movement: down halls, sidewalks, in limos.
He heads to the mailroom and demands info about Molly from her supervisor. It's poorly written and awkward and kind of convoluted because she's a temp and that info is only available at the temp agency. Nonetheless:
"You're talking about that temp girl, Molly?" Another of the mail-room staff had apparently overheard the conversation, and he came nearer. "Somebody called here for her over the weekend. I picked up the voice mail when I opened up this morning."
"Do you have that message?" Noah asked. "It's important."
"I deleted it, and I didn't write anything down, since it was a personal thing. The fellow who called must have just tried all the numbers he had for her. He said her mama was in the hospital."
Sigh.
As the news gripped him there he remembered what Warren Landers had said, up in his father's office. We'll make them sorry. That's how Mr. Landers had put it.
Poor Mama! She's the first victim of Darthur's evil scheme. Well, there was that janitor in the desert from the prologue. But who gives a fuck about him? Poor Bev. May I call you Bev? Poisoned, no doubt. Or maybe tazed. NWO likes tazers. (See above.) Will she pull through? Who knows.
But I sense a decision point coming up for young Noah.
