Corpses are so hot: the erotization of violence towards women

To the right there is a window display featured at Barney's department store in New York. Or a window display that was featured at Barney's... before it got removed.

Congratulations Barney's, you effectively decided that a blood-strewn woman in a contorted position, falling off a chair (being thrown off a chair?) isn't the best angle to sell your clothing to women. Nothing like women and violence to sell an A.L.C gown.

And yet does this surprise me? Hell no. Shit like this is seen all the time and women posed in provocatively violent positions are eroticized over and over again. Nothing like a woman beat into submission to speak sex appeal. It is the very same reason that the latest Lady Gaga video for "Paparazzi" completely creeped me out. It can be viewed here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QQJ9Vi8GLok

The first opening scene shows Lady Gaga thrown off a balcony where she ends up in a contorted position on the pavement with blood seeping from her skull. Sexy. But this disturbing image (or storyline) is followed up by countless other nearly subliminal flash shots of contorted dead women. And I'm talking gruesome: we have a nurses with bullet wounds to the head, Seran-wrapped asphyxiated bodies dumped in the woods, hangings, and apparent death by shovel-beating. If you don't want to subject yourself to the entire video check out the 45 seconds following the 4:20 mark. If you want to see what I mean even more clearly, cut the sound (your ears will thank me too). These one-second (sometimes less) shots are laced through this video while supposedly ending with a "rah rah girl power!" message at the very end when the Lady herself announces "I killed my boyfriend". Again, nothing like murder to show who means business.

Lady Gaga is currently one of the biggest pop stars around. Millions of pre-teen girls and boys are eating this shit up on MTV without the slightest clue of the inherant violence contained within its 8 minutes. Sure, I could use my degree in English to argue that the video actually calls attention to the effects of the sexualization of women in the first place (via the paparazzi), but unfortunately even that argument would have to avoid addressing the constant eroticization of violently murdered female corpses found within the video itself... I don't think you can really argue with those. And why are these images only a second long? Well because if they were any longer, parents (and people) would probably give a shit.

White privilege: it's real my friends!

I have been taking part in a facebook battle for the last 30 hours or so. A facebook battle you ask? Yes, a facebook battle, prompted by a status of a friend of mine. I am not going to go into the details, because it would be too painful. But I have chosen to take an excerpt of one response and perhaps we can go from there in building how ignorant some people can be.

Here it is...

Are you ready?

"Caucasians are the most socially suppressed population in north america and thats a fact".

You've heard it friends! White people are socially suppressed. In fact white people are the most socially suppressed of all races. I know this is a fact because someone on facebook said so. Oh wait, sorry, no, we can't say white people. We should say caucasian (makes white people feel more comfortable after all). Dear god almighty, I don't know what planet this person lives on but I am going to guess that it isn't Earth.

Look, white privilege is complicated business. It is so complicated that it works its magic in such an exceptional way that it exists without white people even realizing it! And then what results? Comments like the above. Look, no one is going to come up to you and say "Hey, congratulations! You are white, that is why you got the job!" and no one is going to say "Wow, you are so beautiful because you are white". It is not that simple. Rather, it is a power system that is deeply entrenched in the way Canada was built and founded (exterminating indigenous populations, for example). It is so entrenched that most of the time people don't even realize they are doing it.

I could go on and on here, but to be honest, I don't really have the the energy to dismantle racist structures of Canadian society in one blog post. Rather, I will post a few points that were written by Peggy McIntosh, an educator who wished to "unpack" what she terms the "invisible knapsack" of white privilege. They are privileges that she is granted as a white person.

The full article can be found here: http://www.nymbp.org/reference/WhitePrivilege.pdf

* I can turn on the television or open to the front page of the paper and see people of my race widely represented
* When I am told about our national heritage or about "civilization", I am shown that people of my color made it what it is
* I can be sure that my children will be given curricular materials that testify to the existence of their race
* I can arrange to protect my children most of the time from people who might not like them
* I can swear, or dress in second-hand clothes or not answer letters without having people attribute these choices to the bad morals, the poverty, or the illiteracy of my race
* I am never asked to speak for all the people of my racial group.
* I can take a job with an affirmative action employer without having coworkers on the job suspect that I got it because of race
* I can be sure that if I ask to talk to "the person in charge" I will be facing a person of my race

These are just a few examples of a larger list McIntosh has compiled, but I think they make the point. So in response to my facebook battler who claimed I am "one of those self hating apologetic whiny caucasians just because I feel sorry that my parents were able to pay my way through university", no, that is not the case. I am simply claiming my own implication in a societal structure that benefits me every day arbitrarily. I never chose to be white and did not choose to gain these privileges, much like one does not choose to be a person of colour and be faced with racism. However, that does not eradicate me from the responsibilities I have in being a more ethical person to ensure the next generation moves in a more loving and fair direction.

Hot, sexy and (more importantly) angry.

Last night coming out of Dufferin Station I made an immediate left to head the long 400m home. However, in an event that is remarkably not different from other occasions a man (possibly drunk) decides to yell the following welcome:

“THERE’S A HOT SEXY GIRL RIGHT THERE!... OH YA...mmmm...HOT SEXY GIRL YA.. RIGHT THERE!”

Before I even continue, let me set the record straight by saying, no I was not “dressed sexy” – I was not wearing heels and no part of my clandestine skin was showing other than my hands and my face. My neck you ask? No, not even. Actually I was wearing a scarf (scandalous, I know).

Look, I was wearing a hoodie okay? And no (I know what you’re thinking), not even one of those skin-tight sexy-like hoodies*. I am talking a hey-I- don’t-really-feel-like-getting-sexually-harassed-tonight-kinda-hoodie. There were no leggings* involved at the scene, I was wearing jeans... and no, not even my tightest ones.

And yet apparently it is still okay to YELL to the entire street corner at midnight about how sexy I am.

Look, I realize I am sexy. You don’t need to remind me. I’ll take those reminders from people who know my name, thanks. Maybe next time I see you coming out of the subway I will inform everyone around:

“HERE COMES AN IGNORANT PRICK! HE’S AN ASSHOLE! CHECK OUT THE LAME ON THIS GUY RIGHT HERE!”

But I can’t do thaaat. Then I’ll just be one of them crazy bitches.

Sexy girl? Or one of them crazy bitches? Wow,these are impeccable options here, when did it get so awesome to be female?

The problem is this: when you’re female, you’re female (you don’t have much choice, unless you are interested in costly genital reconstruction surgery). And when you’re a female most of the perks that come with the gender (such as so-called compliments on emergence from public transit) only show up nice and clear when you’re alone. The looks, the yells, the honks, the glares, the whistles, the remarks, the cat-calls, the “compliments” – all of these things are best experienced solo. It’s hard to explain to some men why it gets really old being “hit on” all the time.

Look, when it comes to trying to pick-up, the sexual harassment route, it’s getting a little old – I’ve heard it all before, no it’s not acceptable, and no, I have never slept with someone who started yelling:

“THERE’S A HOT SEXY GIRL RIGHT THERE!... OH YA...mmmm...HOT SEXY GIRL YA.. RIGHT THERE!”

So please, as I said to the man who so delicately let me know his thoughts... bite me.

*I do not have anything against either leggings or skin-tight sexy-like hoodies. I own them both, and yes, look damn sexy in them.

Brangelina: Causing Severe Identity Issues, One Child at a Time

I'll admit that in my day I have had crushes on both Brad and Angelina. However, once they morphed into Hollywood's scandal-ridden super-couple I noticed Brad looking a bit wrinkly and Angie (can I call her Angie?) looks a bit washed up. Jennifer Aniston on the other hand seems to improve her looks with every failed relationship! Now there's a girl I can look up to... but I digress. Anyways, I have a couple problems with the Brangelina.

1) What the hell is a UNHCR Goodwill Ambassador anyways?

Yup. You know, Angie's superhero title. It sounds pretty noble, goodwill is a good moniker to put in any title. But I did some research. Turns out it has little to do with goodwill and a lot more to do with celebrity status. Under these circumstances I will assume that Angelina has very little goodwill that is separate from good PR. Which brings me to my next point.

2) Maybe Angie (and Brad) should stop worrying about PR and start being parents.

How many kids do they have these days? 6? Something like that. Well, I hate to break it to Brangelina, but unless your 6 kids are working for you it's about time you took a reality check and realize that you've just inherited a new full-time career. It's called parenting. They should try it sometime. I nominate Brad to quit -- afterall, Angie has an important role with the UN.

3) They should start being parents so they can prepare for the onslaught of identity issues their children will have.

I'm not too worried about Shiloh, the blonde, blue-eyed celespawn. She'll be alright. She'll have her first acting gig at 7, be addicted to cocaine at 12, enter rehab at 14, pose nude for Playboy at 20 and around 25 will come out with a supersmash movie like Never Been Kissed (although we'll hardly believe it). What does concern me is the rest of their "It's a Small World Exhibit". Afterall, there are no better candidates to understand society's racism than Brangelina. They have dealt with a lot of racism themselves I'm sure. It's hard being dubbed "the two most beautiful people in the world" and it's even harder to deal with the classism they must face, being rich and all.

The point is, combating racism is not about breeding a little UN in your home. The UN has done a lot more to fuck people over than to bring them out of the trenches. It involves a powerful organization with the most sway going to - you guessed it - the most powerful countries, who do their best to keep their own interests taken care of while internationally trying to look like they too, are all goodwill. Angie herself, in many ways is the perfect figurehead to stand for an organization that does on an international level what she does privately -- takes a lot of innocent people down with her in an attempt to spread some good PR.

Keep the Crazy Confidential

I am a self-admitted overanalyst. Therefore, I may highly consider the ways I am perceived by others. I am generally worried that there are other people like me who are similarly psychoanalyzing my every move. It is one thing to constantly interpret everyone else, it is quite another to realize they are doing it to me.

Then, every once in awhile, I meet a person that disrupts my social bubble to prove that everyone is not like me. Some people really do carry on without the least regard for how their actions may be percieved.

For instance. If I was to send some poetic text message to someone that I was interested in, and never heard back... well, first I would cry, and then I would refuse to contact them ever again. Yes, this has everything to do with ego. My imagination would tell me that my object of affection is totally showing all their friends the message, and they are laughing and everyone is having a good laugh based on my hopelessly romantic feelings. Therefore, I would never contact them again.

But, see, that is just how I would do things.
Others operate differently.
Others do not percieve non-responses as a hint.
Others do not realize that silence is deafening.
Others just keep on going and going and going and going until people like me can't analyze them at all anymore.
Because I don't need to.
Case Analysis Closed: Crazy.

Demand: get your fetus off facebook.

In keeping with the theme of whining about social networking sites (ie: facebook), I am going to voice something that has long perturbed me. Well, no, I cannot even say long because something this freakish in nature has only existed since the advent of facebook. And even then, I can only really suggest that this has started happening in the last year or so. Although I know that somewhere, someone else has been subjected to this earlier. What I am talking about you ask? The facebook fetus of course.

The facebook fetus is an increasing phenomenon that involves women broadcasting their ultrasound pictures to all of us "friends" on facebook. Now, I have nothing against ultrasound pictures. If you want a picture of your little human inside you, that is cool. I even sort of understand it as I have had a yearning uterus for a couple years now. However, under absolutely no circumstances should that poor innocent human being be shoved into the e-universe without any say in the matter. In fact, I may argue it's defamation of character -- you get facebook fetused and it automatically proves to the world you have idiotic parents. That kind of information should stay top secret until the kid turns 4, enters kindergarten and eats glue.

If I have learned anything in the last few weeks, it is that people on facebook (at least the ones who aren't your real friends) are the ones who will ask the most inappropriate questions. Social norms go flying out the window, and people think it is perfectly acceptable to ask someone's grieving parents, who they have never met, "What did he die from?" in reference to their young son's death. People also seem to think it is okay to ask for clarification on who this person is, as if they would not have gotten word if in fact they had the right to ask that question in the first place. Facebook is not a place for social niceties.

Therefore, when you go putting up your facebook fetus, you have to be prepared for the (god forbid) reality that something may happen from point A to point B and maybe broadcasting every detail of your pregnancy isn't exactly the best idea. Childbirth is far from a perfect science-- do you want to have to explain to Joe Shmo why it is there aren't any new pictures of facebook fetus post-birth? No, of course not. But I swear to you someone will ask. Oh, and don't think this will be in a private message. I mean, someone will ask, on your wall, and then some other nice soul will respond "Yeah! I was wondering too!" and people will start talking about your business like it's their business and then rumours will start and you won't have a say in anything, just like your facebook fetus didn't have a say in the first place.

Do your kid and do yourself a favour. Keep you fetus to yourself, your family, and your friends. If no one else, Lil' Fetus and me will appreciate it.

I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo. What the hell am I doing here?

Alright. My first beef... how... succulent. This social media stuff is getting me down, I mean I've always been on top of e-things but it seems the only way to get a writing gig these days is if you broadcast yourself to the entire world. I'm not denying my own narcissism here. Afterall, everything I do is really important. But am I really supposed to care about everyone else?

Okay, who am I kidding. I creep your shit all the time. I refresh facebook on average probably 100 times a day and yes, I've searched through every single last morsel of existence that you or your drunk friend has decided is webworthy. I've seen how much you've gained weight since grade 12, and yes, I hoped that it would happen -- I never liked your shit anyways and your Tommy Girl made me want to vomit. Glad to see that Future Shop gig is working out for you, I heard the benefits are really good there. I really hope the staff Christmas party works out as well as it did last year. No, unfortunately you didn't untag yourself fast enough. It is really too bad about that last tequlia shot. No really, I mean that.

But yeah, I still creep you.

And yes, I see all those corny things that your ex girlfriend writes on your wall, and even though it makes me a little bit sad to see how love just never seems to work out for you, mostly it makes me really happy. Are you sure you want to list Papa Roach as one of your favourite bands? Of course, to each his own.... but come on now.

So this is why social media creeps me out. Because I am terrified of people of the likes of myself out there. I am a psycho! In fact, I am so psycho that my ex told me that if we were to date (before we dated) that he would have to purchase a safe because he didn't trust me with anything in his room. This came after I stayed over for the first time and when he came home he noticed that his porn collection had been disturbed. No, it wasn't kinky. I didn't even masturbate. I was just creeping, creeping for creeping alone. Do you really think I feel comfortable knowing that there are people like me out there?

I sure hope you don't.
You should probably change your password now.