This is a quickie: more of a tweet that exploded into a larger thought.
Last night during Black Mirror, I tweeted that post-apocalyptic dystopian future worlds (of which Black Mirror's was in the sense that all the people in it had lost their minds and were unable to function as a society) always bothered me in that most of them seemed to still have electricity.
I worked for a time in the energy industry, though Lord knows I was not particularly good at it. Now electricity is produced on-demand, which means that when you turn your TV on, you need generation happening somewhere to provide you that power. Power stations don't (for the most part) store any of their energy - it goes straight into the electricity grid and pops out at your plug socket. This is simplified* but essentially true. You can think of the National Grid as a system of pipes with water being pumped in one end (electricity generation from power stations) and being siphoned off at the household end (electricity demand for your TV). You have to keep 'pumping' energy in at one end for it to be available for all the millions of siphons in homes around the country. On top of that, you have to keep the frequency at a steady 50Hz - i.e. you have to generate at almost exactly the rate that it's being used - or everything goes bananas (technical term).
My overreaching point is this: if you don't have a massive, populated infrastructure of people running your power stations and grid, electricity simply won't work. So, when I see Will Smith watching a DVD in I am Legend, I wonder where his energy comes from? How does he pump petrol into his car? It makes me think there is a secret twist that actually the rest of the country is fine and Will was the last to know.
As a further point, it should remind us of how much we rely on one another. There really isn't much 'going it alone' as we rely on everyone else to do almost everything for us, without realising it. Be it generating energy, dealing with waste, preparing food, building all our stuff, we need each other.
This is handled very well in Gone - a book series in which every adult disappears and the kids left behind realise they not only don't know how to do anything - they can't do anything.
*Actualy, energy companies and the grid predict how much energy the country will need at any time in the day and attempt to match that demand GW for GW.
Ramblings from Chain Bear.
February 19, 2013
February 15, 2013
A Guide to Perving Appropriately
Today both The Sun and The Daily Mail (and probably others, though I am unsure as of writing) have chosen to illustrate the murder of Reeva Steenkamp with assorted bikini and lingerie pictures from her modelling career. This came as a surprise to some, as it seemed like it might possibly be edging towards bad taste to perv over a recently murdered woman. But, what do I know? I'm just a layman - the tabloids have been working on appropriate perving for decades and if anyone knows decency -- it's the tabloids.
If you study the actions of the tabloids -- what they've chosen to print, and what they've demonised for being in print -- we can build up a solid picture of when it is and is not appropriate to leer over certain people. And by 'people', I mean 'women', obviously.
It is NOT appropriate to perv if the subject is:
If you study the actions of the tabloids -- what they've chosen to print, and what they've demonised for being in print -- we can build up a solid picture of when it is and is not appropriate to leer over certain people. And by 'people', I mean 'women', obviously.
It is NOT appropriate to perv if the subject is:
- An heir-giving princess in the nude.
- An heir-giving princess wearing a bikini while pregnant.
- The Queen (probably? untested)
It is entirely fine to perv if the subject is:
- An heir-giving princess in a bikini while not pregnant
- An heir-giving princess in underwear
- An heir-giving princess, pregnant, but not in a bikini
- A princess (Eugenie and Beatrice are often papped at the beach due to their large bosoms)
- A celebrity consensually modelling for photographs
- A celebrity out in public
- A celebrity doing something so outrageous that they have to show you all the details just so you can understand exactly how outraged to be
- A celebrity, shot from a long lens on a private holiday
- A pregnant celebrity
- A pregnant celebrity in a bikini
- A celebrity, who's large breasts might mean cleavage is inevitable
- A celebrity's accidentally exposed body parts
- A celebrity's teenage daughter
- A celebrity's pre-pubsecent daughter
- A celebrity's infant daughter
- A celebrity's foetus
- An underage celebrity (link is particularly "hilarious")
- A teenage celebrity (there are somany of these I didn't know where to start)
- A child celebrity
- A recently murdered celebrity
- The wife of a head of state
- An A-Level student, having received your results (especially after being pimped out by your own school)
- A sports professional
- A woman
- A woman whose weight fluctuates
- A woman who's too thin
- A woman who's too fat
- A woman wearing flattering clothing
- A woman wearing inappropriate clothing for her body
So that's that sorted, then.
February 04, 2013
If Not a Jehovah's Witness
Every Thursday, I'm visited by a young Jehovah's Witness. He comes to my door, sometimes alone but often with a sidekick, and we have a chat for half an hour about religion, its truth and its benefits. He's also an ardent Creationist, which I did not realise about Jehovah's Witness. This makes me dubious that he can ever embrace a genuine argument against his position as Creationism is about as solid as a house of cards. Having said that, he's not an idiot by any stretch and his heart is in the right place, if not his head.
Based on the fact that he does seem to be a loving, conscientious individual, I have often wondered how much actual good he would do had he not chosen to follow his ministry. So I asked him where he would be if the church wasn't a part of his life. He's nineteen.
He told me that when he was young, he had often wanted to be a doctor or a physicist. He was particularly passionate about taking up a career in which he could make as much change as possible, where he could help the maximum number of people within his lifetime. 'Then I discovered the Bible,' he said. I'm not paraphrasing, he literally concluded with, 'then I discovered the Bible,' as if this made perfect sense.
He and his family converted to the Kingdom Hall of Jehovah's Witnesses and changed their lives forever. And that's a valid choice - of course it is. I would never force the guy to be a doctor or a scientist. But I found it quite sad to see the vacuum between a man with so much passion (an admittedly a touch of naivety) for making the world better and his choice of realising that passion.
This is a common sleight of hand performed by religion - it can make you believe you're actually achieving something, when in reality you're performing through smoke and mirrors. For example, he often states that he believes the world is in a worst place than ever (something I don't agree with, but let's go with it for now) and there is more unnecessary suffering, greed, etc. than we've ever seen. His solution is to turn to God and hope he'll sort it out. As I've often pointed out, if everyone in the world used this method we would be completely screwed. The only way to bring about improvement is by owning the responsibility for that change as human beings. It's easy to defer to a higher power, but that's completely ineffective is nothing more than illusion.
It would have been nice to have another doctor or scientist in the world with the wide-eyed benevolence of my weekly visitor.
Based on the fact that he does seem to be a loving, conscientious individual, I have often wondered how much actual good he would do had he not chosen to follow his ministry. So I asked him where he would be if the church wasn't a part of his life. He's nineteen.
He told me that when he was young, he had often wanted to be a doctor or a physicist. He was particularly passionate about taking up a career in which he could make as much change as possible, where he could help the maximum number of people within his lifetime. 'Then I discovered the Bible,' he said. I'm not paraphrasing, he literally concluded with, 'then I discovered the Bible,' as if this made perfect sense.
He and his family converted to the Kingdom Hall of Jehovah's Witnesses and changed their lives forever. And that's a valid choice - of course it is. I would never force the guy to be a doctor or a scientist. But I found it quite sad to see the vacuum between a man with so much passion (an admittedly a touch of naivety) for making the world better and his choice of realising that passion.
This is a common sleight of hand performed by religion - it can make you believe you're actually achieving something, when in reality you're performing through smoke and mirrors. For example, he often states that he believes the world is in a worst place than ever (something I don't agree with, but let's go with it for now) and there is more unnecessary suffering, greed, etc. than we've ever seen. His solution is to turn to God and hope he'll sort it out. As I've often pointed out, if everyone in the world used this method we would be completely screwed. The only way to bring about improvement is by owning the responsibility for that change as human beings. It's easy to defer to a higher power, but that's completely ineffective is nothing more than illusion.
It would have been nice to have another doctor or scientist in the world with the wide-eyed benevolence of my weekly visitor.
January 16, 2013
On the Conflation of Offence
Recent events regarding transphobic comments, and the defence thereof (the details of which I won't cover as they have been detailed and analysed far more proficiently than I could have*) have resulted in the increasingly common arguments about 'offence'. Typically some factions, the Mail Online included, will tumble between either claiming gross offence themselves or whining about precious little flowers that cry offence at anything, entirely depending on their predefined axioms. This speaks to the heart of the problems with offence in and of itself.
To me, the word 'offence' has lost all useable meaning in this context. It has expanded to encompass everything from the fan-waving delicacy of a 19th century duchess to the furious outrage of a mob bearing fire and pitchforks. Whenever anyone reacts badly to any publication, they are reported as being 'offended', which means..., what exactly? That they didn't like the article? That they disagree with it? That they consider it to be fundamentally wrong to an absolute measure?
I have said fairly often that I don't think anyone has the right not to be offended, and I stick by that. This is part of the essence of free speech and the spirit of public debate, but doesn’t necessarily mean that the people causing offence aren’t being dicks. Some people are offended by the defence of gay marriage and, well, that's tough. Other people are offended by the casual use of the word 'tranny' but, again, it's not the offence that's important.
What we need to understand is the harm and consequence of the countered article. When Julie Burchill, through the Observer, chose to write a ridiculous article riddled with ignorant slurs against the trans community, it wasn't the offence that was important. Granted, upsetting people isn't a nice thing to do, but that's a consequence of speaking openly in a world where people don't agree. What was important about Burchill's article was that it reinforced the consistent dehumanisation of trans people, reducing them to their sexual organs and dismissing their identities and ability to be strong social activists. This societal view of the trans community results in actual harm to the people within it. When real, living people are viewed as either sub-human or less worthy than those crowding around the middle of the bell curve; they are far more prone to open mockery, humiliation and violence.
But we're not just talking about trans issues, here. Anytime someone writes an inflammatory article or makes a ridiculous public statement that results in people becoming 'up in arms' in response, it is important to ask why. Offence isn't a reason, it's an emotional response. If you call me evil, I'll be offended by that. If you publically call homosexual people evil then they too will be offended, but you may also be damaging the entire homosexual community in measurable ways, be it in the manifestation of bullying, prejudice or delaying equality of marriage.
On the other hand, if a bishop (or whoever) said he found equal marriage offensive to his religion, you could say, 'OK, you are offended, but will allowing homosexual folk to marry bring about genuine harm to Christians/heterosexuals/marriage/society?' As far as my understanding goes, the answer to this is no.
So structuring these arguments around offence is pointless and really only serves to present these conflicts as nothing more than a soap opera. Show me the tangible measurable effects and why they are important.
December 17, 2012
A Little on Tone Policing.
Tone policing is the term used for when an argument is rebutted by attacking its delivery style instead of its content. "Calm down, dear" is a form of tone policing. The reason that tone policing itself is so consistently flagged and criticised is because it is often used to derail an argument away from the points being made and towards the (technically irrelevant) tone of the critic. It's a frustrating tactic and often a cowardly method used by people who are happy to stoke the fire with pointed opinions but who cannot handle the inevitable flames. Most of the time tone policing is just a bad defence and, to the initiated, draws a spotlight of weakness upon those who use it.
Having said all that, tone is not always an entirely irrelevant part of an argument and whipping out the "tone police" objection at the first sniff of a tone-based argument may sometimes be hasty. When making or observing an argument, you need to consider what the objectives of the argument are and the environment of the argument.
(By the way, I'm using 'argument' in it broadest sense, be it a fierce disagreement or a more friendly debate or discussion.)
The environment of the argument is often where the fuzzy edges of the internet (where most arguing appears to take place these days) can make things confusing. In the real world (or the wonderful term 'meatspace'. I love how we've started to describe the real world with secondary terminology, like 'snail mail'), it's much easier to pitch your tone accordingly. If you're sitting across a table from someone to whom you strongly object it is unlikely you would put yourself with in inches of their face and start screaming at them. At least, I hope you wouldn't - this is pretty abusive behaviour. You are far more likely to scream and shout if you're arguing passionately to an audience, raising a rabble or leading a march. It's not uncommon for things to get enflamed even in a one-on-one debate, because you are performing for an audience and not scaring the shit out of just one person.
This is where consideration of the objectives come in: what are you trying to achieve? Are you trying to change the mind of the one person to whom you disagree, or do you just want them to know how angry you are? Are you trying to convince an audience (be it a readership or physical spectatorship)? As sound and valid as your argument may be, it is naive to think you can be as effective in all situations with the same tone. It just isn't the case. While it is perfectly valid to shoot down tone policing from an opponent who wants to derail your argument, I don't believe it is as valid to shoot down an ally who wishes to strengthen the effectiveness of your argument.
I think we're too quick to do that.
This thought vomit sprang out from a discussion about Caitlin Moran over twitter. In Moran's case, she has shown that she is unresponsive to any form of criticism, aggressive or measured. In this case, what do you do? I think we have to accept she's not going to listen to those who think her dangerously narrow form of feminist philosophy is all kinds of wrong, so there are two contructive things we can do. The first is to deconstruct her bullshit for everyone else who may have read her work, or heard of it. This will expand the knowledge and understanding of your common audience and hopefully prevent or innoculate people from her bad rhetoric. The second is to let her know you disagree with her, and why (even if she'll ignore you). This will remind her that she keeps saying disagreeable things which may (optimistically) make her think a little harder in future. Firing abuse at her is not particularly useful or productive and does little more than ease the burning anger a little. There's being aggressive, and there's being a dick.
Having said all that, tone is not always an entirely irrelevant part of an argument and whipping out the "tone police" objection at the first sniff of a tone-based argument may sometimes be hasty. When making or observing an argument, you need to consider what the objectives of the argument are and the environment of the argument.
(By the way, I'm using 'argument' in it broadest sense, be it a fierce disagreement or a more friendly debate or discussion.)
The environment of the argument is often where the fuzzy edges of the internet (where most arguing appears to take place these days) can make things confusing. In the real world (or the wonderful term 'meatspace'. I love how we've started to describe the real world with secondary terminology, like 'snail mail'), it's much easier to pitch your tone accordingly. If you're sitting across a table from someone to whom you strongly object it is unlikely you would put yourself with in inches of their face and start screaming at them. At least, I hope you wouldn't - this is pretty abusive behaviour. You are far more likely to scream and shout if you're arguing passionately to an audience, raising a rabble or leading a march. It's not uncommon for things to get enflamed even in a one-on-one debate, because you are performing for an audience and not scaring the shit out of just one person.
This is where consideration of the objectives come in: what are you trying to achieve? Are you trying to change the mind of the one person to whom you disagree, or do you just want them to know how angry you are? Are you trying to convince an audience (be it a readership or physical spectatorship)? As sound and valid as your argument may be, it is naive to think you can be as effective in all situations with the same tone. It just isn't the case. While it is perfectly valid to shoot down tone policing from an opponent who wants to derail your argument, I don't believe it is as valid to shoot down an ally who wishes to strengthen the effectiveness of your argument.
I think we're too quick to do that.
This thought vomit sprang out from a discussion about Caitlin Moran over twitter. In Moran's case, she has shown that she is unresponsive to any form of criticism, aggressive or measured. In this case, what do you do? I think we have to accept she's not going to listen to those who think her dangerously narrow form of feminist philosophy is all kinds of wrong, so there are two contructive things we can do. The first is to deconstruct her bullshit for everyone else who may have read her work, or heard of it. This will expand the knowledge and understanding of your common audience and hopefully prevent or innoculate people from her bad rhetoric. The second is to let her know you disagree with her, and why (even if she'll ignore you). This will remind her that she keeps saying disagreeable things which may (optimistically) make her think a little harder in future. Firing abuse at her is not particularly useful or productive and does little more than ease the burning anger a little. There's being aggressive, and there's being a dick.
November 04, 2012
No Shave November
November is not just November anyone. It's No-Shave November. From my perspective, it first became Movember, a month for men to grow some hilarious moustaches and raise some money and awareness for male-centric diseases, like prostate and testicular cancer. In recent years, though, it has been co-opted by women as a way to be liberated from the trials of shaving their body hair. I'm not sure if there are any philanthropic attachments to the women side of No Shave November and that isn't important for the points of this post.
When I searched the #NoShaveNovember tag on Twitter a couple of nights ago, it was saturated with comments from all genders deriding women who choose not to shave their various bits and pieces.
When I searched the #NoShaveNovember tag on Twitter a couple of nights ago, it was saturated with comments from all genders deriding women who choose not to shave their various bits and pieces.
Which is just... bizarre. And, for the sake of balance, I think some of the NoShaveNovember derision is aimed at men too, because... I don't know. Something about beards? Who knows what goes through these people's heads.
Let me get these simple facts into your head: people can do whatever the hell they want with their bodies. This is literally none of your business.
I can kind of understand the foundations of the sentiment if you're someone who likes to have sex with women, and don't like body hair and are a been grossed out by the fact that potential sex friends might be hairier than you prefer. I get that. I get it in the same way that I don't really like lip-piercings, I find them a bit icky. But for me: tough titties. Either I don't let the lip-piercing bother me, or I don't try and get it on with that person. They don't owe me anything; it's not up to them to try and sculpt and fabulise themselves into what I find attractive. Same with body hair: if you don't wanna sleep with someone who lets it all grow out, then don't sleep with them.
The weirder thing is the heterosexual women who lay into non-shavers as if that affects their lives in any way. If anything, it's going to increase their changes of getting their hanky and/or panky on if they believe (as their tweets suggest) that they are going to send men running in fear from the hairies. Perhaps they are afraid that the No-Shavers will affect some kind of social change! Oh noes! As if you're bothered by social change: some of you have bright orange skin and wear leggings that have a measurable denier.
I grow a beard. I literally only grow a beard cause I hate shaving. It's uncomfortable, irritating and something I can't be bothered to do every couple of days. Luckily, there's not that much social pressure for men who are deciding between bearded and clean-shaven faces. The social pressure on women is far, far greater. But I'll tell you this: I know a few women who don't shave, and they've had next to no noticeable change in their social successes, sexual or otherwise. Possibly because they don't socialise with body fascists, or maybe because they don't let third parties dictate their body confidence and sexual prowess.
Basically the point of this blog post is that I shaved my face two days ago and my chin still itches like a motherfucker. Stupid shaving.
September 26, 2012
Mum
Today is my mum's birthday. Happy Birthday, Mum.
It's curious with people like your parents, who you spend so much time with over the years, how many things float around unsaid. Sure, your parents say a lot of things to you - that's their job; they teach you about the world, show you when you've gone wrong, answer you're increasingly difficult to answer questions. But, at least in my case (I'm quite a quiet and reserved individual, despite what my online persona might betray), there hasn't really been a lot said in return. I don't tend to say what's on my mind, mostly because I assume that it's obvious already and saying obvious things like, 'gosh, it's hot', are reserved for people you don't know well enough to enjoy comfortable silences with.
My mum is awesome.
Most people who have met my mum know this. Certainly people I know that have been lucky enough to meet her have told me how awesome she is, as if I didn't know. I wonder if she knows.
My mum's youth is packed with enough stories to make a boxset of indie movies. I won't embarrass her by retelling them here, but you might not even believe some of them if I told you. I've still got my work cut out for me to catch up with all the adventuring she undertook by her mid twenties. Even the story of how my parents got together reads like a script for Only Fools and Horses. If you run into her you should buy her a (non-alcoholic) drink and ask her about it. She's quite the storyteller.
I said you might not believe some of the her stories, but that's not because she's lost any of that sparkle in her middle-age. Sure, my parents are at the end of their mortgage with a grown up son and have lived in the same house for 30 years. But have you seen my mum's jacket that's made entirely out of sequins? Have you seen her ever-growing collection of animated, musical teddies? Have you seen her cry with laughter at novelty pens? Have you been with her to see ever Harry Potter film on opening day? Have you seen her Christmas earrings that flash? You really should. Just don't ask her to tell her favourite joke. It's... it's terrible. She told it to my friends about 12 years ago and they still bring it up, shrug their shoulders and say, 'I don't get it,' and burst out laughing.
As a mother to me, she balanced being an adult and 'fun' with what seemed like very little effort at all, teaching me and guiding me but also just going out for frivolity's sake. In a way, our relationship has the same kind of structure as it always has - she's a mother and a friend. We still go out to the cinema together, cause it's nice to. But she's still and always has stupidly supportive of me, endlessly patient, kind, and genorous while standing firm when she thinks I need a kick up the arse, which I often do.
It's weird: I've known this about Mum forever, but haven't really said it, because it just seems obvious. But maybe it isn't. And even if it is, it probably still needs saying every so often.
By the way, my mum is alive. I know this reads a bit like a eulogy, now that I think about it, but then again, Mum always wanted to have her funeral before she died because she didn't want to miss it. You should totally come to my mum's funeral, by the way. She's got it all planned out, it's going to be amazing.
Anyway. Happy Birthday, Mum, was what I was trying to say.
It's curious with people like your parents, who you spend so much time with over the years, how many things float around unsaid. Sure, your parents say a lot of things to you - that's their job; they teach you about the world, show you when you've gone wrong, answer you're increasingly difficult to answer questions. But, at least in my case (I'm quite a quiet and reserved individual, despite what my online persona might betray), there hasn't really been a lot said in return. I don't tend to say what's on my mind, mostly because I assume that it's obvious already and saying obvious things like, 'gosh, it's hot', are reserved for people you don't know well enough to enjoy comfortable silences with.
My mum is awesome.
Most people who have met my mum know this. Certainly people I know that have been lucky enough to meet her have told me how awesome she is, as if I didn't know. I wonder if she knows.
My mum's youth is packed with enough stories to make a boxset of indie movies. I won't embarrass her by retelling them here, but you might not even believe some of them if I told you. I've still got my work cut out for me to catch up with all the adventuring she undertook by her mid twenties. Even the story of how my parents got together reads like a script for Only Fools and Horses. If you run into her you should buy her a (non-alcoholic) drink and ask her about it. She's quite the storyteller.
I said you might not believe some of the her stories, but that's not because she's lost any of that sparkle in her middle-age. Sure, my parents are at the end of their mortgage with a grown up son and have lived in the same house for 30 years. But have you seen my mum's jacket that's made entirely out of sequins? Have you seen her ever-growing collection of animated, musical teddies? Have you seen her cry with laughter at novelty pens? Have you been with her to see ever Harry Potter film on opening day? Have you seen her Christmas earrings that flash? You really should. Just don't ask her to tell her favourite joke. It's... it's terrible. She told it to my friends about 12 years ago and they still bring it up, shrug their shoulders and say, 'I don't get it,' and burst out laughing.
As a mother to me, she balanced being an adult and 'fun' with what seemed like very little effort at all, teaching me and guiding me but also just going out for frivolity's sake. In a way, our relationship has the same kind of structure as it always has - she's a mother and a friend. We still go out to the cinema together, cause it's nice to. But she's still and always has stupidly supportive of me, endlessly patient, kind, and genorous while standing firm when she thinks I need a kick up the arse, which I often do.
It's weird: I've known this about Mum forever, but haven't really said it, because it just seems obvious. But maybe it isn't. And even if it is, it probably still needs saying every so often.
By the way, my mum is alive. I know this reads a bit like a eulogy, now that I think about it, but then again, Mum always wanted to have her funeral before she died because she didn't want to miss it. You should totally come to my mum's funeral, by the way. She's got it all planned out, it's going to be amazing.
Anyway. Happy Birthday, Mum, was what I was trying to say.
August 30, 2012
I Hope I Never Become a Cynic
There is sometimes a confusion or misunderstanding conflating skepticism with cynicism. While I'm a card-carrying skeptic (without a card), I am not and hope never to be a cynic. I don't know what joy there is to be had in cynicism, but I am regularly given generous helpings of it from a fair few twitterererers whom I do choose to follow.
In a way, there is a strange, social bonding to be had in cynicism. A coming-together through sneering, upturned noses, through a refusal to allow a smile or share the joy or potentially wonderful things, but instead to kick down sandcastles and revel in a strange nihilism. The twittersphere and neighbouring blogosphere a both packed with these folk and their jokery, knocking everything down a peg or three.
And there's absolutely nothing wrong with jokes based in mockery or popping over inflated balloons. And there's nothing wrong with anger and scoffery, in general. But gosh, is there no joy to be had? And when you've knocked down crappy sandcastles, do you have any better ones to offer? Criticism is crucial, but being a grumpy old fart is not. There is something bothersome about people gathering to mock and laugh at things which may not be perfect, while those people don't even try to do what their mockees have done.
Boo to them. Rise up and take action. You don't like something? Make a better something. Or try and find something better. Jen McCreight saw something she was deeply dissatisfied with and crowdsourced something better. She wasn't sure if it would stick and she knew it would be difficult, but it's easier to stand on the edges and mock. It's harder to enter the ring and fight.
In a way, there is a strange, social bonding to be had in cynicism. A coming-together through sneering, upturned noses, through a refusal to allow a smile or share the joy or potentially wonderful things, but instead to kick down sandcastles and revel in a strange nihilism. The twittersphere and neighbouring blogosphere a both packed with these folk and their jokery, knocking everything down a peg or three.
And there's absolutely nothing wrong with jokes based in mockery or popping over inflated balloons. And there's nothing wrong with anger and scoffery, in general. But gosh, is there no joy to be had? And when you've knocked down crappy sandcastles, do you have any better ones to offer? Criticism is crucial, but being a grumpy old fart is not. There is something bothersome about people gathering to mock and laugh at things which may not be perfect, while those people don't even try to do what their mockees have done.
Boo to them. Rise up and take action. You don't like something? Make a better something. Or try and find something better. Jen McCreight saw something she was deeply dissatisfied with and crowdsourced something better. She wasn't sure if it would stick and she knew it would be difficult, but it's easier to stand on the edges and mock. It's harder to enter the ring and fight.
August 23, 2012
The Hardest Thing About Being a White Man...
...is learning to shut the fuck up.
As a white guy from a rich nation, there's a lot of things I don't have to think about on a daily basis. I don't have to worry about getting catcalled on the street, bring groped or leered at, having my sex life judged or being profiled by my skin colour in job interviews or at security gates. I tend to get listened to quite a lot. Hopefully, people keep listening because I have something vaguely worth listening to, but I have no problem getting people to listen to me, because everyone wants to hear what the white guy has to say.
I've spoken before about recognising the weird subconscious part of me that tries to tell me that women don't know what they're talking about as much as men and there's a lot of societal brainwashing that goes along with that.
When shit happens, in politics, the internet or whatever, I often feel like I have something to say about it. I have thoughts. I has feelingses. You must listen to my thoughts because they are important and I'm totally adding to the discussion, you guys. And, as I said, being a white dude means that people tend to pay attention. But then, we all have thoughts and feelings on these hot button issues, so what makes me so important? Why should people listen to what I have to say?
When it comes to issues of sex, politics, race, religion, gender and a whole bunch of other important crap, I'm probably not the one to be listening to. There are a heckload of qualified, relevant people who can give a much more valuable insight than I ever can. Folk of colour, female folk, transfolk, disabled folk - a lot of people from a variety of marginalised groups. These guys don't get heard because everyone is listening to the white dude, who are so used to having an audience that they never shut up.
It's nice to be listened to. It's really nice. It's validating, affirming, confidence-boosting and generally gives you the fuzzy feelings. So it's hard to stay quiet. It's hard to sit back and let other people talk. But do you want the discussion to be as valuable as it can be, or do you just want to be listened to?
As a white guy from a rich nation, there's a lot of things I don't have to think about on a daily basis. I don't have to worry about getting catcalled on the street, bring groped or leered at, having my sex life judged or being profiled by my skin colour in job interviews or at security gates. I tend to get listened to quite a lot. Hopefully, people keep listening because I have something vaguely worth listening to, but I have no problem getting people to listen to me, because everyone wants to hear what the white guy has to say.
I've spoken before about recognising the weird subconscious part of me that tries to tell me that women don't know what they're talking about as much as men and there's a lot of societal brainwashing that goes along with that.
When shit happens, in politics, the internet or whatever, I often feel like I have something to say about it. I have thoughts. I has feelingses. You must listen to my thoughts because they are important and I'm totally adding to the discussion, you guys. And, as I said, being a white dude means that people tend to pay attention. But then, we all have thoughts and feelings on these hot button issues, so what makes me so important? Why should people listen to what I have to say?
When it comes to issues of sex, politics, race, religion, gender and a whole bunch of other important crap, I'm probably not the one to be listening to. There are a heckload of qualified, relevant people who can give a much more valuable insight than I ever can. Folk of colour, female folk, transfolk, disabled folk - a lot of people from a variety of marginalised groups. These guys don't get heard because everyone is listening to the white dude, who are so used to having an audience that they never shut up.
It's nice to be listened to. It's really nice. It's validating, affirming, confidence-boosting and generally gives you the fuzzy feelings. So it's hard to stay quiet. It's hard to sit back and let other people talk. But do you want the discussion to be as valuable as it can be, or do you just want to be listened to?
July 02, 2012
The Stupid Spat that Won't Die
This whole "people vs Skepchick and Freethought Blogs" thing is probably the stupidest, most childish, frustrating thing I've seen since following scepticism. Really.
As far as I can tell, the FtB / Skepchick folk have argued for harassment policies at all conventions in order to allow attendees to feel safe and to have a clear code of acceptable behaviour for the benefit of all. The opposing side seem to think that this pisses all over everyone's fun and that FtB etc are equivalent to nazis for continuing to argue for it.
I mean, honestly.
Here is an apt analogy: someone mentions that some conferences are held in buildings with inadequate fire exits or poorly sign-posted emergency exits and that this can be dangerous in the event of a fire. So a campaign begins to make sure all conferences are held in buildings with decent emergency exits and that the emergency procedures are explained to everyone at the start of the con.
People complain that this is an outrageous narky thing to do.
In reality, the organisers are just bringing the conference up to the minimum expected standard.
Having a harassment policy is expected. When you host a large, diverse crowd, you need to make it comfortable for everyone. Even sex parties have harassment and behaviour policies. And they have a great time, kissing and fucking to their hearts content.
What is so difficult about all this? I really don't understand.
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