Etiquette and the c-bomb

So, what kind of a person calls someone a "cunt" and follows up with LOL smiley face? Does this seem mildly disturbing to anyone else?

LOL! Cunt!

Once again, our own Blogging Molly has stirred up the crazy in the blog-o-sphere with her most recent bitchy cunt-faced attack on the authority of men comedic/baffled response to an "authoritative text" from the Male Studies movement.  Sorry, I got a little caught up in the language of Manhood Academy.

The text that Molly highlights in her piece is the kind of vomit-inducing drivel that I have a hard time responding to due to its utter outrageousness; or maybe it's just my "inferior mental prowess" standing in the way.  In any case, she does a great job of pointing out the specific incongruities and jaw-dropping absurdities, and that's not really why I'm writing this.

I'm writing because I'm appalled.   I'm writing because I didn't know people were so hateful.  I'm writing because I hope the dude who "bitchslapped" Molly's argument doesn't actually have a girlfriend.  If he does, would she care to log into Man Academy and corroborate his story of domestic and sexual servitude?  Or would that be in violation of her internet privileges?

So back to that first question: the answer (apparently) is someone who thinks that attacking someone personally is on par with engaging in an intellectual debate; that dinner, laundry and sex on demand are desirable expected girlfriend duties; and that calling someone a cunt is cool as long as you follow it with "LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL."*  (See comments section of Molly's post.)

I have a tenuous relationship with the c-word.  Back in the olden days, when I lived in America, I couldn't stomach the sound of it, even in the whole reclaim-the-word-that-once-held-us-down context.

Now I live in Ireland, and let me tell you, "cunt" would probably be the most widely-used word in the country if it weren't for the existence of "fuck."

Of course, the Irish accent makes the "uh" in both words come out more like "aw" or "oh."  Is it the funny pronunciation or simple inundation that have caused me to adopt both words quite readily into my own vernacular?  Overuse does tend to detract from meaning, but I'll say this for the Irish: they rarely use "cunt" to describe a woman and even more rarely do they use it in direct confrontation (in my observation).

So, yeah, when someone nearly runs me over at a crosswalk or gropes me in a pub, I'll say "What a cunt," privately, to a friend.  This doesn't make it more excusable or less egregious; it's just a fact that Ireland has made me a casual "cunt"-utterer.  If it must be used, let it not be hurtful.

What is inexcusable is responding to a funny, engaging, and lively debate with personal attacks and name-calling.  Especially cunt-calling.  It's not just the word; it's the word aimed at a bright feminist in the midst of an unfounded, unstructured anti-woman slur.  It's the word used three times by the same person whose only further argument came in the form of smileys, 14-year-old IM speak, and hateful links.

I have to be honest.  My initial mental response to the "bitchslap" was "What a focking contface!" But that's not what I wrote.  Where I commented, I tried to keep it civil and logical.  Because that's how you intelligently argue a point.  Bravo to Molly for realizing that and keeping a level head and a healthy sense of humor throughout this whole hate-fest. 





*Is he laughing out loud out loud out loud, etc., or laughing out laughing out laughing out loud?  Just wondering.

Feminism interrupted

Our own Blogging Molly has been writing for True/Slant and stirring up some serious controversy in those parts.  (Who knew promoting equality across race, gender and sexuality could cause such an uproar?)

Most recently, in her post entitled The misguided, embarrassing war against feminism rages on, she takes on "the group of intellectuals (?) who came together to finally fight back against the faceless, all-powerful monster known as feminism– which, I guess, was getting too big for its lady-britches and needed to be taken down a peg."

Molly writes:

There’s something that makes me really uncomfortable about people who get nervous and defensive about feminism.  It’s embarrassing in its unwarrantedness [sic], the same way its embarrassing when people are violently homophobic.  To disagree is one thing, but to wage a war against something as tolerant as feminism with such vehemence just screams insecurity.  The same way that people who wage wars against homosexuals are often insecure about their own sexuality. 

I couldn't agree more.  The fact that this "intellectual group," having found men (especially white men) suddenly slipping from their position as the front runners of societal concern, have now created a new field of study--male studies--is almost too weird and problematic for me to get into without my head exploding.  Molly does a great job, herself, as does Tracey Clark-Florey in the article Knefel cites.

What shocked me was the flood of ignorant/male-centric comments that followed Molly's post.  These comments contained as much "willful misunderstand of feminism" as the men that inspired Molly's piece, and completely ignored her point that feminism is "...a movement whose aim is to empower all individuals, regardless of gender, race, class, sexuality, or ability."

I began by responding in the comments, myself, but soon discovered that I had way too much to say.  In this post, I'll respond to sunoxen, Paul Elam, Dan Moore, and marca.

@sunoxen

What truly incensed me was the comment (by sunoxen) that claimed the following:

The thing that strikes me, having had different experiences around the world is that no African woman I have met who have lived in poverty talk about feminism, no poor women in Cuba, not the supposed "repressed" women of Japan [sic].

I responded by writing:

Okay, first of all, I can only respond to this comment by saying that I cannot and will not speak for the entire continent of Africa, because that would be absurd.  I can refute, however, on a very specific basis. 

When I was in college, I lived in Cameroon for five months and I saw an incredibly vibrant community of feminists and women who (perhaps lacking enough familiarity with the term to self-identify) certainly fell under that title in my mind. 

I think it's absolutely ridiculous to say that women in abject poverty don't wish to improve themselves and to have the same opportunities men do.  In Yaoundé (the capital city where I lived), this came to light in a huge campaign to send the "girl child" to school.  This was a movement created by Cameroonians, for Cameroonians.  There were no white, upper-class feminists pulling the puppet strings.  There was a demand, created by rural families who wanted to improve the lives of their daughters, but were unsure of how to break the cycle of keeping girls at home to work and earn money for the family; the ingrained sexism--that a "boy child" would someday be more worthwhile to the family as an educated individual (after all, he would have to earn enough money to pay "la douane" for his future wife) than a girl (who would eventually be entered into a marriage where her duties would include having babies, cleaning house, making meals, and often working side jobs at the market to help support her husband)--is at the root of this problem. 

There was also a response in the form of people campaigning (both men and women because, ahem, men also support feminist causes)--many of them with roots in these same rural areas and villages--to send ALL CHILDREN to school, emphasis on the "girl child," who had been so long neglected.

Yaoundé was also the site of the biggest International Women's Day (March 8) parade I have ever seen.  Women from all walks of life came out, dressed in the traditional mumus made from that year's fabric, and marched together in unity.

In my time in Cameroon, I also became quite close with a woman in her late 30s (the host-mother of a friend of mine) who had six children, the final three having been delivered by C-section.  The eldest was my age (at the time), 21, and the youngest was 4.  Her body was ravaged, and she spoke very candidly to me about the fact that she had no control over her own reproductive rights.  I will say, this was not a woman in abject poverty, she was middle class, but she was still under the rule of her husband.  He simply refused to use condoms, and she was afraid to try to get birth control.  Her husband was not a violent man, just one engaged in a typically patriarchal, Cameroonian marriage. 

I also spoke with poorer women in the neighborhood who expressed (albeit without using the word "feminism") frustration with the patriarchy (also without using this word); they complained that too many un-formally-educated women were supporting their unemployed, alcoholic husbands (alcoholism is a growing problem in Cameroon) and having babies they couldn't afford to have and didn't wish to bring into such an impoverished life.  (This is not to say that these women did not love their children, just that they had no say in the reproductive process.) 

So you see, at least in Yaoundé, Cameroon, with the women I met, feminism is very alive.  Repressed women are not always likely to discuss their true views, especially in casual conversation or with someone they suspect won't be supportive of those views. 

Be careful when making blanket statements about experiences you have not had.

Sunoxen also writes that "the problem really is that the word 'feminism' means so many things to so many people, that really it’s become anathema."

I see where he (I assume it's a he) is coming from, but I would replace the word "anathema" with "ambiguous," as I certainly don't see feminism in any way allied with evil.  I would also wager that most of the confusion about feminism (as a designation) stems from those who set themselves outside of the movement and perpetuate a dangerous misunderstanding that equates the term with "misandry."

As I believe sunoxen is trying to point out, "feminism" is difficult to describe in singular terms; after all, the movement has already passed through three "waves," each holding diverse meanings to different individuals.

@Paul Elam

Commenter Paul Elam disputes the fact that "feminism is about tolerance" by citing a list of Hateful Quotes from Feminists.  (By the way, he did not bother mentioning his source--either he compiled the list on this site, or he plagiarized the list without acknowledgment.)

The women cited by Elam are certainly part of the feminist movement, but they take a rather radical stance.  Isn't it often true that the radical minority often out-shouts the peaceful/more moderate majority?

It also seems to me that if you wanted an impartial view on feminism, you wouldn't perform a google search that yielded results such as "Hateful Quotes from Feminists."  The whole thing seems quite intentionally biased to me. 

I find it troubling that all of these quotes are taken entirely out of context.  I find it difficult to analyze them with any sense of objectivity.  As I'm not familiar with the source texts, however, and as they have been presented in this fashion, I have to take them at face value.  I could not agree the statement that "'All men are rapists and that’s all they are.'  Marilyn French in People, February 20, 1983," nor with the idea that, "'Men who are unjustly accused of rape can sometime [sic] gain from the experience.' Catherine Comins, Vassar College Assistant Dean of Student Life in Time, June 3, 1991, p. 52" (both cited from Paul Elam's comment on the post), but what do we know of source material?

As savio commendably pointed out, "Many of these statements [as cited by Elam] are absolutely true."  For instance:

• "'Patriarchy requires violence or the subliminal threat of violence in order to maintain itself… The most dangerous situation for a woman is not an unknown man in the street, or even the enemy in wartime, but a husband or lover in the isolation of their home." Gloria Steinem in Revolution from Within: A Book of Self-Esteem, pp. 259-61."

This quote is used wildly and without context all over the internet to dispute the "feminist" view on domestic abuse (that, apparently according to feminists, it's not men, but the patriarchy that is responsible for violence against spouses and partners).  I find the elipses in the middle of the this quote to be particularly annoying, as this is how it is perpetually cited: out of context, without explanation, and with that ubiquitous missing part.

I think the first part of the statement is undeniable.  I don't think that Steinem (and this is simply my own conjecture) would deny that individual men are responsible for their own violence.  Of course they are (as are abusive women, which I will later address).  What she is saying is that the patriarchy protects these actions and, in its violent nature, allows for men to hurt women to maintain their power.

I would also add that the second half of the quote is particularly pertinent considering what we now know about rape--that "acquaintance rape" is much more common than those (nonetheless horrible and terrifying) occurrences of random attacks.

Another "absolutely true" statement:

• "'Under patriarchy, no woman is safe to live her life, or to love, or to mother children. Under patriarchy, every woman is a victim, past, present, and future. Under patriarchy, every woman's daughter is a victim, past, present, and future. Under patriarchy, every woman's son is her potential betrayer and also the inevitable rapist or exploiter of another woman,' Andrea Dworkin, Liberty, p.58."

Again, I believe that the point is that the patriarchy perpetuates violence against women.  Dworkin does not state a man's transformation into traitor, rapist and/or exploiter as inevitable, but rather as a real "potential" within the patriarchy.  In a society in which we spend more time teaching women how not to get raped than teaching men not to rape women, it's no surprise that the "potential" is alive and well.

(By the way, I have many male friends whom I love and trust, and I don't think all men are rapists.  I do think, however, that serious problems still exist in a society such as ours, in which rape remains so prevalent.)

Further to my parenthetical point:

• "'AIDS education will not get very far until young men are taught how not to rape young women and how to eroticize trust and consent; and until young women are supported in the way they need to be redefining their desires.' Naomi Wolf, The Beauty Myth, p. 168."

Hooray!  Yes means yes!  How is this one hateful? 

Some of the citations seem to have nothing at all to do with feminism:

• "Melbourne City Councilwoman Pat Poole announced her opposition to renaming a street for Martin Luther King: 'I wonder if he really accomplished things, or if he just stirred people up and caused a lot of riots.'" 

How is that anything more than an ignorant (possibly racist) statement?  Does Elam (or the compiler of the source list) assume Poole is a feminist or is speaking for all feminists because she is a woman?

So, yes, as stated before, feminism is not easily defined.  People from many different backgrounds and of many different belief systems claim the title; and isn't that part of what's so cool about it?

@Dan Moore

There is also a danger in identifying feminism as an entity, with a will and mind of its own.  Commenter Dan Moore writes:

What has Feminism done about men having no reproductive rights (a central concern of Feminism), nor Parental rights (enshrined in law)?

What has Feminism done about declining male enrollment in school (aside from say it’s either a good thing, or a non-isse because men “get paid more”…so nevermind if your son HAS to work in the mines instead of becoming a Doctor or something…because MEN get paid more)…nope, no sexism there. Nevermind the fact that the stats used to justify this sexism are…um, flat out fabricated.

Feminism has done absolutely nothing for men, except tell them it’s OK not to be men.

In short, Feminism is not saying a damn thing about men that we find either relevant, helpful, or for that matter even of tangential interest.

I sense, and empathize with, Moore's anger.  I feel inclined to point out, however, that Feminism is not a person sitting at one end of a phone line, answering calls and taking requests.  Feminism is a movement, a mindset, and a way of living.

As a feminist, I believe that getting all children to school is important, male and female.  I don't know a single feminist who would say "Who cares?" to any individual missing out on education.

As someone who has worked extensively with kids, both in and out of schools, I'd say I worry about all of my students (male and female), especially the ones coming from homes that create obstacles to their educational well-being.

Feminism has also provided a way for men to escape confining, traditional gender roles, a fact I know many of my male friends are grateful for.


@marca

Was it empowering to male victims of domestic violence and their kids when feminism framed domestic violence as “violence against women” and kept male victims and their children stigmatized and neglected as usual? I had to sue the state of California to successfully overturn the laws feminism created that excluded male victims of DV and their kids from services.

I (again, feminist, remember?) couldn't agree more that domestic violence against men MUST be recognized and dealt with.  It's not fair, however, to frame this argument by claiming that feminists want all the domestic violence laws for themselves.

This comment requires a bit of a historical perspective.  Feminists and other activists were instrumental in creating DV laws to protect women and children from abusive partners.  By protecting women, these feminists were not intentionally excluding men.  At the time, women were only beginning to speak out, to feel courageous enough to fight back and seek legal aid.  Women were protected by law because they were finally given voice.

I will remind you that it is a patriarchal mindset that says men cannot possibly be abused by/need protection from their female partners--after all, men are meant to be in control and able to stand up to women.  Feminism, without a doubt, sets up a framework in which partners are equal.  (Feminists who don't believe in marriage, partnership or monogamy still do not promote violence against men as a solution.)

I applaud you for your civic engagement in California.  I hope these laws will be updated across the country to protect men and women in both homosexual and heterosexual partnerships.  As more men are able to observe and break out of the confines of patriarchal shaming, more important changes like these can be made. 

In conclusion

What saddens me most about this debate is that many of the people arguing against their idea of "feminism" are, in fact, quite aligned with feminist thought and ideals. 

As Molly puts it, the effect is "...the systematic misrepresentation of feminist ideals and the resulting reluctance of young women to identify as an f-word"

A male, Irish friend of mine (I live in Ireland) asked me a funny question the other day after reading my blog.  He said, "So, Anne, you'd like call yourself a feminist, then?"

When I replied that I would, he said, "Yeah, girls in Ireland aren't like that.  They think it's not attractive to be feminist.  That it's all man-hating and hairy armpits."

Feminism is so much a part of who I am that I don't stop often enough to think about what it means to me.  I want to thank Molly and all the people who commented on her piece for forcing me to stop, reflect, and defend myself.



The misguided, embarrassing war against feminism rages on
Male Studies vs. Men's Studies
Watch out women's studies, here comes male studies
Rape Prevention Tips From Rapists: Stay Inside or Die A Horrible Death

The Retard Issue turns even awesomer

I've been meaning for a while to write about the whole "retard" controversy that started with Rahm Emmanuel, was intercepted by Sarah Palin, then Steven Colbert, and is now resting comfortably in the hands of the horrible writers over at Family Guy. I have worked with lots of special needs kids and I have a joke about how I don't think it's okay to say the word "retarded," because language is powerful (feminists have been organizing for over 100 years and people still use the word "cunt" every day). In general, I think people who use it don't mean it to be hurtful, but that's the same shit people said when they use to use "gay" as an insult, and luckily, in the last few years, it's become pretty accepted amongst forward-thinking people that is not acceptable. I used to work with an amazing boy with autism, and his mom said that she used to use "retarded" all the time, but ever since she had her son she couldn't hear it without feeling a sting. That's as much of a reason as any, if you ask me, to find a different fucking word to insult people. There are plenty.
That said, Matt Taibbi has a great analysis of why we shouldn't be worrying so much about the word "retard" when we're talking about what Ramn Emmanuel said. I would side with Palin about the word being hurtful except that she had to go and be a hippocrite about Rush Limbaugh. Colbert, as always, was spot-on. And, for the first time in history, I'm going to say that Family Guy has done something awesome.
I didn't watch the show's most recent controversial episode about a girl with Down Syndrome (who is the daughter of the former governor of Alaska), but the actress who voiced the Down Syndrome character, Andrea Fay Friedman, actually has Down Syndrome. Friedman wrote the New York Times with some fantastic criticism of Palin's exploitation of her son Trig, and as Broadsheet's Mary Elizabeth Williams points out, she is funnier than most of the writers for Family Guy.
It's wonderful to actually hear Friedman's voice-- a voice that is categorically (and, as demonstrated here, wrongly) left out of the discussion. We should all be smart enough to know that people with special needs can be their own advocates, but that we still have a responsibility to advocate for what's right. I believe that part of that means choosing your insult words carefully, but it also means that even issues about special needs should be approached with compassion and complexity. Friedman shows us that it's a mistake to make categorical assumptions about what is and is not offensive. And so, I hate to say this, but I'm going to have to side with Family Guy on this one.

The burlesque cabaret of French medical examinations

A response to Blogging Molly's, The Kafka-esque nightmare of the Bushwick hospital.

I have lived abroad since (more or less) the Fall of 2008. If I had it my way, I would save up all my doctor's visits and dentist appointments and pap smears for my yearly trip home to see the 'rents. Unfortunately, my propensity for contracting yeast infections and other lady problems does not allow for this.

(Molly, I can't tell you how many times I have been told that I keep getting infections because I use condoms, and then also because I don't use condoms... even though I do. So, basically, all women are pregnant, vaginitis-riddled tarts, and it's all our fault for using condoms.)

But I digress.

Is our American health system perfect? Fuck no. Is it affordable? Not at all (although I've been lucky enough to stay on my Dad's awesome, state-provided health insurance for far longer than most are able to).

But there's one thing that keeps me coming back to the States for my regular checkups: I get it. I understand how it works. Yes, our country is in need of some serious health care reform, but at least when I go to the doctor, I pretty much know what's going to happen.

I know, for instance, that I won't have to take off my clothes for an eye exam. In France, there is no such certainty.

My first doctor's visit after moving to Flers to teach English was mandatory. In typical French fashion, I was not informed of this appointment until the day before its occurrence (apparently my appointment slip had been 'lost in the mail'), and I had to take a three-hour bus ride the next morning to get there. That's right, it wasn't just any doctor's visit; it had to be done in a specific city, in a specific hospital with specific government ties.

First of all, this medical exam is only obligatory for people coming from outside of Europe. I had to get a full physical in the States before taking the job (a rather benign experience), but apparently that was just a dry run, a preparation for what lay ahead.

So I got to Caen on the bus and made my way to the hospital where the first thing they did was to put me in a small room and tell me to undress from the waist up.

Upon leaving the room, the nurse said, "When you are finished, go through that door, there."

I followed orders. There didn't seem to be any kind of robe or anything, so I just opened the door and walked topless into this huge room with lots of machines and medical equipment. The same woman met me there and instructed me to step onto a platform and press my chest against a freezing cold wall, apparently to take an x-ray of my chest. That done, she said I could dress and go upstairs to the waiting room.

As it turned out, this was the least weird part of the visit.

After getting somewhat lost in the corridors of the hospital, I found my way (led by the sound of loud, American voices emanating down the hallway from the waiting room). I waited. And waited. Turns out they had given all of us 10:30 appointments, but there was only one doctor to do the exams. While I was waiting, someone came by and handed me the x-ray that had just been taken, as though I would know what to do with it.

Finally, my name was called, and I went into the rather large exam room. The doctor was an older, bespectacled gentleman, and as I handed him my chest x-ray, he said, "Undress to your underwear."

This is wear things got weird. There was no curtain. There was no attempt to turn away. The man just started firing off a series of medical history questions while I uncomfortably took off my clothes. There I was in my underwear (and bra), and he still wasn't finished with the questions. I stood awkwardly, saying there was no family history of diabetes. He told me to take a seat. The chair looked really cold. It was.

He wrapped up the questions and led me to the scale. He weighed me (Was this why he wanted the clothes off? Those few extra ounces of weight could have really skewed his measurements!), took my height, and patted me on the naked hip, saying, "Good job!" as I stepped off the scale.

Let me just paint the portrait of discomfort. Here I am, having stripped to my underwear in front of this man for, what appears to be, no reason at all, and now he's touching my naked skin. He continued to give me little pats of encouragement as I moved from one station to the next.

He handed me a bit of plastic and instructed me to cover one eye for the vision test. In my underwear.

I told him I have glasses and asked if I should put them on. He said no, then proceeded to mock me for having glasses when my vision was perfectly fine. Pat on the hip!

Finally, he told me to lie down on the exam table. Was this going to be the justification for the undue exposure? He listened to my heart and breathing, then set the stethoscope down on my crotch while he proceeded to kneed my stomach and ask if it hurt. Meahwhile, I am so focused on the cold bit of metal perched on my hooha that I'm really not sure what I'm saying (in French, of course).

Then, the whole thing was over. He told me to get dressed, handed me my x-ray (after glancing at it and deeming it fine [what the eff am I supposed to do with it?]), and sent me on my way.

I was feeling really violated until I spoke with some other people (including men) who related the same experience (minus encouraging pats). I guess the guy was just really efficient. He didn't want to have to lift a shirt to listen to someone's heart or feel their belly. And maybe he was looking for rashes or something.

The whole exam took maybe five minutes, then I had to get back on the bus to go home.

The doctor I ended up seeing in Flers was a woman and not creepy, but she had this same habit of telling me to undress (with good reason, this time) from the waist down, and not leaving the room while I did it. They just don't have modesty in France.

In Ireland, I can't even get a doctor's appointment. The health care system here is so overloaded (one pitfall of public health), that there are enormous waiting lists for nearly everything. Doctors simply aren't taking on new patients. And I'm not Irish, which doesn't work in my favor.

What's the moral of this story? I'm not sure. Perhaps, better to be misled and interrogated in your native language than in your underwear in France? But maybe it's a toss up. I've never had a shot in the ass.

This dog is walking himself!

Does this sign make anyone else think of Marmaduke?


I mean, clearly, this is the cheeky, French version. If it was Marmaduke, there'd be a mailman's foot attached to the loop of the leash (dear god, I almost wrote lead, I've been living in Europe too long...) and the dog would be tearing across the sign.

Or, as in this case (or perhaps, more accurately, the follow-up to this frame), he'd be dragging a mostly-asphyxiated dog catcher along beside him.

He sure does.

Taking on Tebow

The hype is out there: we are furious or we are elated (okay, we are furious). CBS (despite its rejection of politicized ads in the past) has approved a $3 million Superbowl spot for Focus on Family, featuring Tim Tebow and his mom talking how it's a good thing she didn't have an abortion. The whole notion is pretty absurd--the idea that anyone would have noticed if Tebow had never been born or gone on to win a Heisman trophy--and completely misses the fact that Mrs. Tebow did have a choice which she was free to make (more on this and CBS's shit excuses in a great piece by Jill at Feministe).

Pam Tebow must have made other choices along the way that impacted her son's path to football fame and fortune; were those, too, implicitly right? Should we, perhaps, ban the right to choose which sports our children may play? Should football be viewed as a sport morally superior to all others? This seems no less absurd to me than the message of the Tebow ad.

Thankfully, though, Planned Parenthood is tactfully fighting back. Check out this new video and pass it on to a friend. Let's get people talking about this instead of giving Focus on Family any more of our precious time and attention.

The Best Year-In-Review Tribute Ever

Hi everyone, this is a piece I was commissioned to write, I will put up a link once it's up but for now here it is:

We're already almost a month into 2010, and by now all the resolve and self-reflection we built up over the New Year's holiday has probably started to wear off. But there is one bit of self-reflection, a “year in review” style tribute, that I still haven't gotten over. In fact, this has been my feel-good jam for most of the beginning of this new year; it's so incredibly good that I'm hoping it's an omen for how awesome the rest of the year is going to be. The tribute in question is a mash-up called “Blame it on the Pop,” by DJ Earworm. Let me also say that I'm a big fan of the mash-up-- I've been celebrating this art form ever since I discovered Girl Talk a few years ago. In “Blame it on the Pop,” Earworm creates a mash-up of the top 25 pop songs of 2009. To say that the result is a sum greater than its parts is an understatement.
“Blame it on the Pop” manages to weave together these poppy anthems, most of which are about getting it on or getting crunk, into a song whose message-- I say this with complete sincerity-- is profound and inspiring. Wait a minute, you may be saying-- we're talking about Fergie here, right? And Flo Rida, and Taylor Swift, and Miley Cyrus? Believe it. And while I do love a ridiculous club jam as much as the next girl, I find most of these songs to be completely intolerable on their own. And even with those artists in the mix who I do really enjoy-- Beyonce, Lady Gaga, and Kanye, for example-- it would still be a stretch to call them “poetic.”
Of course, in any tribute to 2009 it's impossible to separate one's own feelings about the year itself from the tribute, and maybe that's why it's so easy to assign such depth to an arguably superficial song. To borrow a lyric from The Hold Steady, this past year had its massive highs and its crushing lows-- both personally and politically. We started off hopeful with the inauguration of Obama, but the despair of the recession and the war pervades much of our collective memory of the year. It seems impossible to hear the strung-together lyrics of Earworm without seeing an acknowledgement of this collective despair. It so happens that the most common word among all these songs is “down,” which becomes the refrain of “Blame it on the pop,” with a repeating chorus:
Baby don't worry/ even if the sky is falling down/
it's gonna be okay/ when it knocks you down
Variations on this theme repeat throughout, as well as what I find to be a particularly poignant lyrical mash-up: Just get back up/ when you're tumbling down/ down/ down.
The video is great too, if only for the hilarious juxtaposition of all these artists-- from shirtless Flo Rida simulating oral sex to Jason Mraz singing to the sky, imploring us: “look into your heart and you'll find love, love, love.” Earworm somehow isolates the best aspects of each artist, and the song builds on itself so well that by the end I was practically tearing up at an image of Fergie. And I swear to God, if you had told me last month that I would ever write such a sentence about Fergie, I would have bet a million dollars against you.
I think that's why mash-ups are so incredibly appealing; I don't use words like “cosmic” lightly, but a good mash-up has a way of creating a sense of cosmic beauty. When an artist can combine certain beats with with certain hooks to make something so much bigger than each of its parts, it has a way of making the universe seem more intentional. Because, ultimately, a mash-up makes things fit together-- things that were once alone, and maybe mediocre, and maybe forgettable. And there is something very comforting about knowing that those things can be put together to make something amazing.

The Kafka-esque nightmare of the Bushwick hospital

The combination of being relatively new to New York and relatively new to Adulthood has made me absolutely inept at going to the doctor. Every time I've tried to go anywhere in this city for any health-related reasons, it has gone cartoonishly awry. Here's a few examples:

1. Tried to go to Dentist, went to dentist in Chinatown where no one spoke English
2. Tried to go to Gyno, went to gyno who told me that I will get pregnant if I use condoms
   
3. Tried to go to ENT for sinus infection, was given steroids without any examination of sinuses

So, a few days ago, when I woke up with an incredibly sore throat decorated with gnarly white spots, I knew that nothing about getting better was going to be easy. I was in so much pain I decided to stagger to my local hospital in Bushwick, despite multiple online reviews describing said hospital as the "worst hospital ever".
The waiting room did not have nearly enough chairs, so after about 4 hours of waiting on the floor and watching Judge Mathis (which I was fine with) I finally got to see the doctor, who shall hereforth be known as Dr. Meanest Doctor Ever, or Dr. M for short. Here's how the conversation went:

ME: I have a really sore throat with white spots. I think it's strep.
DR: Have you been having a lot of oral sex?
ME: stunned silence. I've never heard of an STD that gives you strep throat. And I have a monogomous boyfriend who has never given me strep throat before. Please, help me.
DR: Do you have a fever?
ME: I don't know, I don't own a thermometer, but I'm sweating a lot and I'm very cold.
DR: Oh Molly, if you had a fever, you would know.

The doctor then proceded to NOT take my temperature and NOT take a strep test. I asked her why she refused to take a strep test, and she said she didn't care whether it was strep or not. You don't care? Okay... wait, what?
Then she gave me a shot of antibiotics, in my ass-- which I was FINE with, because my friend Guy got a shot in his ass once for strep and I know that's an acceptable medical procedure. But then she ALSO gave me a shot of painkillers in my ass, too, and I've NEVER heard of that, and neither has my friend Guy. So I'm pretty sure at that point she was just trying to humiliate me.
Then this conversation happened:
DR: Do you have insurance?
ME: Yes.
DR: Then I'll write you a prescription for antibiotics.
ME: Well, my insurance doesn't cover prescriptions.
DR: Okay, then forget it.
ME: Wait... do I need antibiotics?
DR: Well, maybe, but they're expensive. Here's what you should do-- you should lie, and say you don't have insurance.
ME: But I'm using insurance to pay for this visit.
DR: Oh... you shouldn't have done that.

After this Abbott & Costello routine finished, I realized that no one at the hospital had even asked for my insurance card-- after I insisted that they take my information, they wrote down my policy number on a post-it note and sent me on my way.
When I got home, I looked up the antibiotics she prescribed me. They're not for strep throat. They're for UTIs and Gonorrhea, so apparently she never got past that initial first impression that I was just riddled with STDs.
The only time in my entire life where I have felt this helpless was the time I had to go to the post office in Prague.

FOOTNOTE: I looked up the symptoms of Gonorrhea. They mostly have to do with the genitals. I am quite sure I don't have Gonorrhea, but I guess if I do, I can kill two birds with one stone.