As I a writing this, it’s almost 11:30 p.m., Central Whatever Time. In approximately half an hour, Script Frenzy month will start. The goal is to write a full-length script (screenplay or an actual theatre play script) in the month. I did it last year, and it was a blast, so I am doing it again. I already have my idea for a title (thanks, Juno!), and I am fleshing out the details (in my mind). I am excited about doing this again, but it means that I probably will not be blogging every day. I’m not sure, so this is just a friendly note to let you know not to worry if you don’t see new content every day. I might try to cram in an entry in the twenty minutes I have left. We’ll see. Wish me luck!
Ok. After a bit of updating on the Mudflats situation, I am going to blog about something that’s been bothering me for a while. There is a tangential tie-in, but not really. There doesn’t have to be; it’s my blog.
AKM wrote a beautiful parable today. Read it here. I want to follow-up on my uppity women post of yesterday. In many of the blogs which have dealt with the outing of AKM, I keep reading a common thread that if you are a blogger, you should expect to be outed. If you can’t take the heat, as the saying goes, get out of the kitchen. What is even worse is that some of these commentors (mostly male, I must point out) dismiss the fact that AKM might be in very real danger because of this outing. One yahoo even said that any blogger would pay money to get the free pub AKM has gotten because of this. This was on the liberal blog, Balloon Juice (though, admittedly, he used to be a rabid conservative–the blogger, I mean), to boot!
First of all, AKM already has all the pub she needs. Second of all, bullshit. Again, a man deriding the very real dangers that females face. Remember, she isn’t even the one who is doing most of the blogging about the outing, and this idiot is saying that AKM is ‘whining’ about being outed. Third, some pro-Palin website has dedicated itself to publishing all of AKM’s personal info, including her home address (complete with Google map) and place of business. I bet even this idiot might be able to see how that could pose a possible threat to AKM, if he ever decided to engage his brain. Please read Choolie’s comment from yesterday’s post to see the read dangers female bloggers can face.
Update: After re-reading this entry, I realized that I was even more disjointed than I had thought. I added a segue paragraph in the middle.
This is a continuation of the last post. There is something I’ve noticed about being female that has really come to fruition with the advent of the inter-webs. See, society doesn’t like uppity women. I can get into a whole diatribe about how the pressure for women to look like twelve-year old boys is a way to keep women from banding together and dismantling the patriarchy which has given us the Wall Street fiasco and Mike Doogan outing AKM.
Focus, Minna, focus. Ok. Society doesn’t like uppity women. That was my thesis, and I am going to support it in a totally subjective, personal way. If you want to throw facts at me, go ahead. I will then be forced to throw facts back at you, and I really don’t want to have to do that. So, let’s accept the premise that this blog entry is not empirical, but that it can be verified to a certain extent if need be. Ok? Ok!
Anyway, this isn’t just about uppity women; this is about men and entitlement. Especially older white men. Which, if you’ve noticed, Mike Doogan is. As I said in my last post, Gryphen from The Immoral Minority (I don’t want to over-link so just re-read the last post) pretty much hit the nail on the head when he said that Doogan was jealous of AKM because she had achieved a world-wide fame as a writer that he could only dream about while deep in REM sleep. Apparently, he was a journalist once upon a time, and he is now a mystery writer (that’s one mystery writer whom I will never read), and he is worried about the disappearance of traditional media with the emergence of blogs.
No, not really. Just worn out. I couldn’t sleep last night, and with all the crap that has gone on the last couple days concerning the ‘flats, I am emotionally spent.
First, the good news. AKM has posted! I knew that she would eventually, but I just wasn’t sure when. AKM is pushing on, and we will all be right there, flanking her. I’ll even wear black and sunglasses and fold my arms sternly across my chest. Hey, I got the tats and the glare to back it up.
What? Why did I use my pseudonym in the title of this piece? Well, to make a point. Here it is. Oh, wait. First, read this post by pseudonym, Gryphen, who writes a blog called The Immoral Minority. It explains why he, Gryphen, thinks he, Doogan, did what he did. It pretty much parallels what I believe Doogan’s motives to be, and I’ll touch more on that later.
Update: I am changing anonymous to ‘using a pseudonym’ where appropriate. Whabs has an excellent blog entry as to the difference. I will be exploring more on this issue in today’s entry.
The Mudflats site was a sanctuary for me during the last silly season. I had no idea who the fuck Sarah Palin was, so I let my fingers do the walking, and I found the ‘flats. I found the blogger to be informative, thoughtful, articulate, well-informed, intelligent, and funny. AKM chose to use a pseudonym, and that was fine by me. It became quickly evident that AKM was a female, but I had little desire to ferret out anything further about the blogger behind the mask.
Well, that choice was taken away from AKM as she was outed by Mike Doogan. Who is Mike Doogan, you ask? One of Sarah Palin’s rabid fans? Maybe another staunch Republican who was unhappy with the way AKM systematically dissected the mockery that was La Palina? Another blogger who was jealous of how popular AKM had become? No. Mike Doogan is a DEMOCRATIC representative in Alaska who got upset because AKM took him to task over his disgusting behavior towards emailers who wanted to hold Palin accountable for “Harrass My Ex-Brother-in-Law Gate”. He didn’t like it, and he became obsessed with finding out who AKM really was. In a letter to another blogger, Doogan asked who AKM was while simultaneously deriding all bloggers. Apparently, Doogan used to be a journalist, and he is mad that traditional papers are folding. He doesn’t think anyone has the right to anonymity if that person is going to criticize–well, anyone, really.
I am not going to delve into the legal issues because I am not at all qualified to comment on that. Other bloggers and their commentors have weighed in on that issue. My only take on the legal aspect is that Doogan did a lot of this shit on state time, with state equipment. In other words, with taxpayers’ money. I have an issue with this, obviously, as I think it speaks lowly of a person who uses his position of power in order to intimidate a citizen of his state. From all the emails Doogan has fired off, it’s clear that he sees himself as some kind of hero, unmasking the dastardly blogger. In addition, it’s clear that it’s more about his ego and pettiness than about any ethical thing he can spout. AKM used his own words to show what an asshole he is, and he couldn’t take it. It’s the same thing that got Amanda Terkel from Think Progress in trouble with Bill O’Reilly. An aside: I didn’t know she was a sister! You go, grrl! The ones in charge get discomfited by the uppity bloggers and decide to put them in their places so they (the bloggers) won’t blog any more.
So yesterday, I revealed my difficulties grappling with the fact that there are truly stupid people in Congress. I have touched on it before, but I have yet to wrap my mind around it. My brother, who is brilliant in his own right, has struggled with the same issue as to dealing with the people around him.
Here is a vastly simplified example: The outrage over the AIG bonuses. Yes, I am picking on them again. For a day or two, most people were up in arms. Then, there started the trickling-down of backlash. It went from “AIG execs is teh evil” to “Well, what about the government regulation that wasn’t?” So you then had two camps. The former wanted to pin all the blame on AIG, whereas the latter wanted to exclusively blame the government’s lack of regulation.
At the time, I wrote that I could be pissed off at both groups, plus the media, and the public to boot. To me, I don’t see why I should have to focus my ire on one group. I mean, like Lewis Black, I am an equal-opportunity angry person. I think it’s easier for some people only to look at one side of an issue than to deal with the complexities, but I also believe that some people cannot think on multiple levels.
If I were Jewish and had balls, I’d be Lewis Black. He is my newest political crush, and I have to tell you about it. I have always liked watching him on The Daily Show because he is so acerbic in his wit, but I also worried about him having a heart attack because he would get so apoplectic while spewing his indignation. I always wanted to tell him to calm down just a bit because I would hate to see his career cut short.
Anyway, I started reading his book, Nothing’s Sacred, expecting it to be hilarious. I was a bit wary, though, because I had high hopes for Jon Stewart’s book, Naked Pictures of Famous People, and I was sorely disappointed. I am also reading Stephen Colbert’s I Am America (And So Can You), and I am not enjoying it yet. Granted, I am not very far into it, but I’m still a tad bit disappointed.
I realized it’s because Stewart and Colbert rely heavily on their on-screen personae to make their humor really fly. Stripped of their personalities, their words are heavy-handed and overly-arch. So, I opened Black’s book with trepidation. Can I say that I love his last name? I can’t? Well, too late. I just did. Anyway, his book was humorous as I expected, but what I didn’t expect was that it would be tender and sensitive as well. Oh, sure, Lewis tries to gussy it up with his scathing repartee, but it’s there for everyone to see. He is rabidly anti-war, pro the-people, anti-corporations, pro gay marriage, etc.
Brief Intro: I write fiction as well as essays, screeds, and movie reviews. I have another blog for my fiction, but I haven’t gotten it up and running yet. To that end, I have decided that I will occasionally post fiction pieces here. The problem is that I tend to be verbose (duh), so even the short stories are fairly long. To give you an idea, this is one of the shortest pieces I have ever written. Enjoy.
She lifted one arm out of the water, dribbling bubbles to the floor. Her previously immaculate tiles, waxed every day by her by hand. Her husband chuckled indulgently over his wife’s finicky habits.
“Whatever my baby wants,” he chortled, a big smile creasing his moon-shaped face. He was a hearty man with hearty appetites which showed in his ever-expanding waistline. “More for my darlin’ to love,” he chortled, pinching her cheek. She would flush and inch away, her black hair covering her face.
Now, she sank into the hot water which threatened to overflow the tub. She held her head erect, careful not to dip her hair in the bubbles. Even though her hair was piled high on top of her head, she wasn’t taking any chances. She was a planner, some would say anal. Hosting dinner parties was excruciating because she labored over whether she should write the place cards by hand, or do them on the computer. Calligraphy was so elegant, but doing it by computer ensured that they turned out identical. China or crystal? Formal or semi-formal? Her mind ran in circles. Gilbert would tell her to leave everything to the housekeeper, but Mrs. Jackson was common. A nice woman, a superb housekeeper, but not an ounce of class in her. No, if Leilani wanted things done correctly, she had to do them herself.
I don’t feel like writing new content today, so I am publishing reviews of movies that were so bad, I didn’t finish watching them. I decided since I had to sit through at least ten minutes of each one, you should have to read a short review that should take even less time to read than it did for me to watch these turkeys. So, for your dubious pleasure, I give to you: Donnie Darko, Never Come Back, Maybe Baby, and Paperback Romance. Enjoy.
5:57 p.m. 6/5/04
Donnie Darko. What can I say about it? It was recommended to me by someone whose opinion I highly value. He is most likely the smartest person I know, and that’s saying a lot. He owns a copy of this movie and thought that I would enjoy it. It was with great anticipation that I fired up this DVD. Sadly to say, the enthusiasm was grievously misplaced.
From the first shot of the movie, I know I’m in trouble. There is the moody music and the moody kids and everything is just so moody. Now, those of you who read my review for Charlotte Sometimes will be understandably confused as that movie is all mood. What is the difference, you ask? Well, I’ll explain to you the difference. Watching Donnie Darko, I get the feeling that I’m supposed to be impressed with the movie. Impressed or shocked. There is a sense of ‘look at me’ and ‘see how clever I am’. This is a movie that chokes on its own importance from the heavy-handed score to the slowing down of action in that now-irritating Matrix fashion.