Saturday, February 23, 2013

Rolling Along

My camera finally made its way home from Palm Springs, 4 weeks after I did. I can only assume it had a really good time without me. Now to develop the 394 photos I took.

In the meantime, a photo of how some of us spent our holiday time. I have no commentary, other than to point out that we all have our quirky sides.

Some of us more than others, of course.

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Let Me Count The Ways

How I love you, too.

Happy Birthday, Yoko, you're looking pretty good.

My favourite Yoko Ono song HERE.

Friday, February 8, 2013

Feminism, Beyonce, and the SuperBowl

Did anyone else feel their heart sink while watching Beyonce's half-time show at last week-end's Superbowl? Did you think "ugh, I hope my daughter doesn't think THIS is what constitutes a smart, savvy female in today's world" then start a conversation about how self-worth shouldn't be completely predicated on one's 'hotness' quotient while Beyonce gyrated in the background, in what looked like a posher version of Borat's thong? Or did you do like my hairdresser and pump your fist and say "that chick ROCKS"?

I know, I am taking a very antiquated position on Beyonce. I know everyone thinks she's cool and smart and beautiful. I also know that a number of young women think she is a Good Female Role Model, but I put that down to the fact that they are still in the stage of life where being Really Hot is all there is, because there is no way I can call what Beyonce did at the Superbowl (ie: stripping, preening, posing) something I'd admire seeing my daughter doing at ANY point in her life. I wouldn't tweet about how proud I was to see her do it either (cough - Michelle Obama I'm talking to you - cough). And I won't get into how Beyonce crouched on the stage and whipped her hair at the fans...oh hell, why not: what was THAT all about? Do we really attend concerts so we can gaze at a woman's (practically naked) crotch while she whips her (fake dyed) hair in our faces? Are we supposed to shriek out loud while watching a woman rip off a piece of her costume to reveal, well, even less of her costume? I'm all for nudity and sex and good times, but getting on a podium and gyrating in front of a crowd? Isn't that what strip clubs are for?


I'll end this brief rant with a quote I'm particularly fond of. It's from Caitlin Moran's charming How To Be A Woman:

One doesn't want to be as blunt as to say, "Girls, get the fuck off the podium—you're letting us all down," but: Girls, get the fuck off the podium—you're letting us all down.

Get off the podium, Beyonce, if nothing else than for your daughter's sake. Girl Power, and it's older, crankier cousin Feminism, should be about way more than continuing the Sexual Objectification Game.