8 December 2004

Every Barbie has her Ken

Indulge me, if you’d be so kind, in a few minutes on my soapbox, for something has raised my ire. This particular irritant is an old one, and like woollens at the beginning of winter, is long due a good airing.

Sexism.

Now those few of you who are still with me at this point… rela-a-a-ax! I’m not bearing witness to the hideous gynaecidal atrocities of the phallocentric overlords today. Quite the opposite.

Several years ago now, I pulled up a female friend who had spewed out some repellent stereotyping of the chaps. Once I had pointed out to her that what she had said was, in fact, completely idiotic and shameful, she took it in good humour. Ha, she said, thoughtfully. I suppose that’s like reverse sexism, isn’t it? Umm…well no, actually…
Sexism: discrimination against, stereotyping of, patronising or otherwise offensive behaviour on the grounds of sex. (NB: This definition doesn’t say on the grounds of being female, it says sex - of which we’ll say there are two, for the sake of this argument.)
Huh, another friend says, hands on hips and eyes rolling, if you want a job done properly give it to a woman. (Oh, fuck off! …but would you be so kind as to pass the bucket before you do?) I hear this brand of absurd, indolent dribble vomited up more often than I care to tell you. Perhaps this is a consequence of keeping the company of women who cut their chops in the bra-burning Seventies: lovely, intelligent women, fine company and generally quite socially astute, but for this one aberration. These are women who care passionately about equality yet don’t seem to have given a moment’s decent brain time to what that term might actually mean. Women who stamp their feet and demand to be treated with respect, rail with clenched fists against being judged on their looks, their clothes, their gender alone. Women who can say Typical male. Goes to pieces under the slightest pressure. They’re babies, aren’t they? and keep a straight face. Women who would have the castrating knife out and flashing in an instant should such a sentiment be uttered by a man about a woman. It’s lazy, ignorant and insulting; even more galling when sprayed about within earshot of their husbands or partners and, more particularly, their sons.
Feminism: advocacy of equal rights and opportunities for women, esp. the extension of their activities in social and political life.

Misandry: hatred of men.

For every perky-breasted, slim-waisted, long-legged, passive, self-sacrificing angel we see in the media there is a tall, confident, broad-chested, athletic he-man aggressively clawing his way up his career ladder. Ideal Man has a flashy car, money to spare and is a hit with the ladies – needless to say, he’s a cracker in the sack, knows what a woman wants better than she knows herself and never fails maintain a thundering erection all night. He’s tough, yet sensitive. He can hold his own in a dust-up, is both king of the kitchen and potentate of the power tools. Quite a tall order, wouldn’t you say? Every bit as anxiety-inducing as Ideal Woman, perhaps?

Women are still way behind in the race for equality of pay and status, are still sexualised, and a plethora of other injustices besides. But the cement shoes of stereotyping that hold us down come in men’s fittings, too.

*Ahem*…thanks for listening.

7 December 2004

Meet the Neighbours



You've gotta love a Tent Spider - so attractive and such good builders; qualities I prefer in all my friends.

This lass is about 50 mm across from toe-to-toe, and is resident in our backyard.


Clearly in a lather of ecstasy, my niece met Santa at kindy this week. Or rather, Santa met the back of Lani's head. The old guy was obviously a bit on the nose, but she summoned enough benvolent tolerance to unburden him of a present nevertheless.

365 Days in Purgatory


I spotted this while browsing a calendar stand recently, and my thoughts shortly turned to matters of religion. The nature of Hell, specifically.


6 December 2004

(Ignore All)

I ran the spell checker - always a Faustian venture - over my recent "My Hammer..." post and here is a selection of the fruits of wisdom it bore:

fuckin' – Puccini; Fijian; Fagin; buckskin; firkin
zephyr – Sperry (!?); zipper; cipher; gopher; Gopher; zebra
gunna –
guano; Guiana; Guyana; Genoa; gnaw; Guinea; Goa
arse* - Ares; Aries; arose; ARQ (!?)
ya –
yahoo; Yahoo
whinging – hinging; hanging; honking; ionizing; winking
y’know – Yukon; Yakima
trouble – trouble

I've a sneaking suspicion that the composer of this spell checker is a frustrated traveller with an interest in the classics.

*Australian spelling and pronunciation of “ass”

Life's Rich Tapestry

People are interesting creatures, aren't they?

In my time I have been fortunate enough to know people who've been:


A piano tuner.
A tatooist.
A theatre props maker.
An acupuncturist.
A reflexologist.
A professional juggler who later became captain of an oil tanker.
A professional flugelhorn player.
A cartoonist who works on The Phantom.
A motorbike riding holistic dentist.
A composer.
A novelist.
A Professor of Engineering specialising in sewage treatment.
A jeweller.
An animatronics maker.
A professional Santa.
A hypnotist.
An East Timor aid worker.
An Afghanistan aid worker.
Lapsed doctors (several).
A glassblower.
Potters (many).
A submariner.
A show dancer.
A politician.
A pro soccer player turned Persian carpet importer
A playwright

........hmmm..........should get up off my fundament and do something with my life, I suppose.

My Hammer Is An Extension Of My Penis

An update on my neighbours' renovations.

Mercifully, their enthusiasm for pre-dawn hammering has tailed off, and I think I see why. On Sunday morning the thunder of discord replaced the zephyr of harmonious industry. As I opened one sleepy eye I mistook it for cats brawling, but slowly my brain formed the screeches into words...

He: (On the verge of tears) Why should I keep going when he tears out everything I do? I know I'm not the best builder in the world, but I want to learn! He's emasculating me!!

She: (On the verge of braining him) Are ya gunna come and get ya fuckin' breakfast or sit on your arse whinging? I'm not ya fuckin' slave, y'know!

Oh dear... trouble in paradise!
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