When a blog breaks, you have no excuse but to fix it and triumphantly move on. Here is a lost post finding its way back:
One of the nice things about the internet in all its chaos is the destruction of all the lies and vanilla ambiguity that we get from politicians. Today, so much of their time is spent trying to raise enough money to stay ahead in the polls that active politicians are spending less and less time representing or governing, and more time trying to get us to remember them.
This is a hard thing to do when our news media has about a 2 week reactive history attached to it. No wonder politicians have to stay at it for longer and for more money. We are forgetting them. We forget the sexy scandals once their history. Has it occurred to anyone that this disconnect between past, present and future denies the fluidity of time itself? And there are consequences for this. Or I should say a lack of them.
When offensive racial issues become watercooler issues, reactive and then fall back into place after we forget….
When our computers are getting better at memorizing while we are getting better at forgetting…
Where can we possibly go from here?
Remembering takes practice and effort. Let’s stop ignoring and start engaging.
A general rule in making activist movements’ work permanent is the building of monuments. Well, the feminist and women’s movements have a monument in DC: the National Women’s History Museum. And now is the chance to make it permanent.
Click now to tell your representative to pass H.R. 6548 and S. 3528 to make the Museum a permanent fixture in our nation’s capital!!
When someone calls a woman a bitch they are attempting to put her down for being strong, powerful, and smart. While Sarah Palin might be a cunning politician, a flat-out pants-on-fire-liar, ignorant on foreign & domestic affairs outside of Alaska, fiscally irresponsible, and a manipulative hypocrite, she is certainly not a bitch.
If you’re going to diss the woman, do it right. Here’s a great example:
You might be asking, “Psychobitch, why are you concerned about this now?” Well, she’s not out of our sights yet and when it comes down to it, it’s important we get the insults right so we can fire away when ready.
I just have to say how excited I am that Bravo is framing “the feminist” as the “the smart one” in their new super-model-reality show “Make Me a Supermodel.”
She seemed nervous in the first episode, but I really hope she represents well and/or that they actually dig a little deeper into what her feminist ideals are. Her inflection implied that she wasn’t sure that she could maintain her ideals, but I THINK SHE CAN!
Heartbreak can take on many forms. Maybe your significant other cowardly dumped you. Maybe your closest friend decided to spend the night with her significant other for the bajillionth night in a row and ignore you. Ultimately, it’s about disappointment. It’s about sadness. And now. It’s about rage.
Fantastic fantasies can consume you. For us sensitive types it can feel good to break. Because when we pick ourselves up from being the bigger, better person….it’s then that we feel really feel the power.
Feel the all-consuming wrath you wish you could employ on those who hurt you so badly. Because the truth is, you are the nicest person in the world. Anyone who knows you, knows how loving, kind and mature a human being you are…they least expect this type of behavior from you - and that’s the best part of the fantasy. Its surprising them. And stooping to their bullshit level.
For a long time I only dated assholes. It was a weird psychological thing. I grew up thinking sex was wrong. Thus sexy equaled wrong to me. My lack of confidence in myself meant I was finding validation in these pissheads. And it wasn’t until I became more confident and took time to myself to deconstruct my emotions and attractions that I fixed it and started being attracted to guys who exhibited alternative masculine identities, guys who weren’t the stereotypical hyper-masculine asshole.
Oh wait. I thought I fixed it. Turns out. That after I deconstructed AND reconstructed, I dated a guy who acted stereotypically gay, and so awkward that I now wonder if he may have been borderline autistic. He turned out to be…..SURPRISE, a cowardly asshole.
sweet. So where does that leave me? With the sad conclusion that anyone can be an dick. You. Me. My ex. Your ex. We can all do it. Together. If we really put our minds to it. So, let’s all join hands and make a pledge. I will no longer define an entire gender into a stereotype. All men aren’t assholes. All women aren’t psycho bitches. Only some of us are. And all us can be.
