Alarming News: I like Morgan Freeberg. A lot.
Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler: We were following a trackback and thinking "hmmm... this is a bloody excellent post!", and then we realized that it was just part III of, well, three...Damn. I wish I'd written those.
Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler: ...I just remembered that I found a new blog a short while ago, House of Eratosthenes, that I really like. I like his common sense approach and his curiosity when it comes to why people believe what they believe rather than just what they believe.
Brutally Honest: Morgan Freeberg is an intriguing guy...[he] asks great questions and answers others with style, flair, reason and wit. On the blogroll he goes. Make him a part of your regular blogospheric reading. I certainly will.
Brutally Honest: Morgan Freeberg is brilliant.
Common Sense Junction: Misha @ Anti-Idiotarian never ceases to amaze me. He keeps finding other good blogs. I went over to A.I. this morning for my daily Misha fix and he had found this guy named Morgan Freeberg in Fair Oaks, California, that has a blog, House of Eratosthenes. Freeberg says its "The Blog That Nobody Reads" but it may now become the blog that everybody reads.
Jaded Haven: Good God, Morgan, you cover a topic from front to back with a screwy thoroughness I find mind boggling. I'm in awe of your thought proccesses, my friend, you're an exceptional talent. You start by throwing in the kitchen sink, tie in someone's syphilitic uncle, bend around a rip tide of brilliance and bring it all home in a neat, diamond dripping package of an exceptionally readable moment of damn fine wordsmithing. I love reading you.
Mein Blogovault: Make "the Blog that No One Reads" one of your daily reads.
Philmon: When Morgan meanders, stick with him - he's got a point and it'll be worth it in the end. He's not a hit-and-run snarky quip kind of guy. The pieces all fall into place like tumblers in a lock and bang! He's opened a cognative door for you.
Rightlinx: Morgan at House of Eratosthenes is one of the best writers out there. I read him nearly every day because he manages to provide an interesting perspective, even though I don't always agree.
Poetic Justice: Cletus! Ah gots a laiv one fer yew...
This blog, which nobody ever reads anyway, would nevertheless be remiss in allowing the 40th anniversary of the National Organization of Women pass into the compost heap of history without comment.
And, since it takes so little effort and I happen to be lazy, a link to the Wall Street Journal’s first-hand account of the festitivities in Albany, NY, courtesy of Charlotte Hays.
Whereas younger feminists on college campuses are flocking to Eve Ensler’s hot-ticket play “The Vagina Monologues”…the exhibitors this year featured less frivolous fare: There was a stand for the socialist People’s Weekly World (successor of the Daily Worker), a midwifery booth (how I wish I hadn’t peered so closely at the frontal photo of a squatting woman welcoming a child into the world!) and a vendor of lesbian-themed quilts. New York Rep. Carolyn Maloney was the highest-ranking office-holder present. One might have thought that Sen. Hillary Clinton would show up — after all, Albany is her state capital — but she never did. Her office claimed that she had a scheduling conflict. I envy her.
For me, the most memorable session was the one entitled “Feminist Media Reform.” Although two NOW employees spoke, along with Kathy Bonk, a well-known feminist media specialist, the star of the session was Bree Williamson, who plays Jessica on the ABC daytime soap opera “One Life to Live.” (She has also guest-starred on a Toronto-based show called “Mutant X.”) Ms. Williamson, who went all pouty-face when somebody noted that TV heroines tend to be blue-eyed blondes, had a message: Write letters to producers telling them what you want to see. Talk about empowerment! If viewers of “One Life” start to see Jessica battling the patriarchy, they’ll know why. But one panelist implicitly questioned the effectiveness of such campaigns, lamenting that NOW failed to save Geena Davis’s series “Commander in Chief.” I don’t know what it means that I heard more about an imaginary female president than about Hillary during the course of the weekend.
Feminism is supposed to be all about choice, and here it is being twisted around into a fake-grassroots movement to muscle around free enterprise and tell it what kind of actresses to hire.
People support feminism when it has to do with women controlling their own bodies, and being paid equal-pay for equal-work. Controversy surrounds fifty percent of those two; but the fact remains that this is the doublet arousing widespread sympathy.
Gee, I just turned forty. People like to tell me what to do all the time. After four decades of me not listening, I’m not sure why the lesson hasn’t been learned, but the advice is still forthcoming, so obviously forty is still green enough for you to keep on collecting these well-intentioned tidbits.
So here is something for NOW. I note that my overall health, at forty years plus some change, seems to be much better than NOW’s right at the hash mark — so listen to your elder, NOW.
Stick to the choice angle. If I haven’t discriminated against any women in hiring/promotion practices or wages or admissions, and I haven’t forced anyone to carry my baby to term, when I go to Hooter’s your wrinkly mouths stay shut. If you have anything to say at all, it’s to celebrate the choice exercised by the young ladies who choose to work there, and the female stockholders who are making a King’s ransom off the success of the franchise.
Television shows? Pretend presidents? Midwifery? Quilts? Truly independent 9/11 investigations?
Trouble with this movement, is it’s trudging toward zero. All crusades may start with a zero and progress toward infinity, or else, start with a degree of filth and impurity and progress toward purity. They may cruise away from a bulls-eye, or toward it. This is a fundamental distinction to make amongst political movements. All political movements. At least all the ones of which I’ve come to be conscious. They are one or the other; they approach an undefined ether from a defined point-of-origin, or else aspire to a point-of-destination from said undefined ether. They explore, or they purify.
Political movements, however, have it in common that each generation of the movement desires to realize objectives wholly unimagined by the previous generation. This is a natural fit for movements, like the exploration of uncharted territories for example, that conquer wild frontiers, pave over them, and look for new frontiers. Fits like mustard on a hot dog. For the other category, where we aspire toward nirvana, approaching it from an outer ring of relative filth and impurity…it’s an inherent contradiction.
The malignancies have been removed. You, ladies, can be paid the same as a man. If someone discriminates, you can appeal, and their career will probably be ruined. You can have an abortion. If someone makes a law that says you can’t, the law will be overturned.
And yet the feminist movement, fulfilling the law that applies to all movements, searches for new frontiers inconceivable to the generations past, but it crusades toward zero rather than infinity. They do their best to overcome the inherent contradiction. Quilts. Huffing-and-puffing about “the new Supreme Court might turn the clock back.” Television shows about pretend presidents. Midwifery.
Trouble is, thinking people weren’t designed to trudge toward zero. We are explorers by nature. The first woman bit into the apple, and we ended up exiled from a point-of-origin, trudging toward the ether — not the other way around. And so our species is one of strangers to nirvana. We go out and not in. What our parents only dreamed of, we do; what was unimaginable to them, we dare to dream. It’s what we’re supposed to do. The instinct calls to those who have dedicated their lives to declaring an impurity cancerous, convincing those around them that it must be removed, and then so removing it. And then they have nothing to do, nothing at all, but to look around and find something else to declare cancerous.
And they end up making themselves into spectacularly silly people.
I feel bad for them, really. But I feel worse for society, as they get it all twisted around and lopsided, and start forcing people to do things under the banner of “choice.”
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