Thursday, November 20, 2014

feminists are NOT stupid




I'm not liking this thing that's going around... "fuck feminism" .. "stupid feminists" ...

Feminism is much more than one group of people who disliked his shirt, and many feminists have extremely valuable and important things to say about serious issues, such as sexual exploitation, degradation, abuse, rights restriction and more that STILL exist in this world.

We are fortunate that we live in a place where we don't have to face these challenges to nearly as severe a degree anymore, (any why? because of feminism!) so it's easy to assume feminists are only whiny little creatures complaining about silly things since topics like this shirt are only thing that's close enough to your nose to smell it - whatever your opinion is about it.

But feminism isn't stupid. Feminists aren't stupid. They are a powerful and necessary force.

I wish the rape, child prostitution and other very serious and abhorrent things that are, as we speak, occurring around the world were getting highlighted through media this intensely, because I feel it reflects more truthfully on what feminism is, what it stands for, and why it is 100% still needed.

Right now, as you're reading these words, a little girl across the world has a man on top of her, raping her, because she was sold into sex slavery. Think about that, know that this is happening RIGHT NOW. Then tell me that we should fuck feminism.


A good ted talk to help remind you:

http://www.ted.com/talks/isabel_allende_tells_tales_of_passion

Tuesday, November 4, 2014

Musings: feeling shifted

I woke up this morning feeling bizarrely like my whole world had moved just a few millimeters. Everything feels slightly off. It's as if all the items in my house have been picked up, contemplated, and placed back down. That someone had driven my car during the night and tried to return everything to it's original position but couldn't get it quite right. I even had to adjust my mirrors.

Even at work I feel oddly displaced, as if I don't belong here. That I am a stranger in my own life.

How odd, this persistant flux. It cannot be real, but I swim in the fantasy of it wondering if there's meaning behind it - some subconcious thing my mind is questing to tell me.

Or, maybe I just dreamed too much last night.. and it's time for a coffee.

Sunday, November 2, 2014

thoughts: the creation of my stories

It's interesting how some of the prose comes out instinctively and is fully fleshed. But mostly it starts as mainly the bones of the story, with soft malleable flesh weakly holding on. Then I add to it, over time.. make it healthier. Add clothes and hair and nails and teeth. Until it is fully formed.

Every once in a while, though, I notice I've accidentally left out an entire limb, and must quickly work to add that so the story doesn't fall over.

And accessories.. Oh, the accessories. I could accessorize forever. That will be the challenge. Keeping my story tastefully dressed. Clean lines and pleasing colours.

I feel almost a sculptor. Using words as clay. I am a child at play.