Here's another toy I will not buy for my son

Didn't you know? Crafting is only for girls, unless you are making heavy equipment. In that case, no girls allowed.

Quote of the Day: Why We Are Tired of PETA - PETA Never Gets Tired of Boobies

A plane carrying a sign that reads: "MEAT ON YOUR GRILL - OIL SPILL  PETA"

Every time I learn about one of PETA's "confrontational" new campaigns, I want to cram foie gras in my mouth, wear veal earrings and slip into a bikini made entirely of tuna.

Helen Razer has a great take down of PETA's advertising and "work."

You’d think an organization like PETA might want to roll its sleeves up and help manage this habitat calamity. No. But they did release this intriguing press statement. PETA says that if we want to help injured Gulf animals, what we really should do is stop eating meat.

According to PETA, the devastation of marine animal populations is the result of the pot-roast you ate last Thursday. It has nothing to do with BP.

No. I don’t understand it either.

As oiled seabirds die a slow, painful death, PETA turns its attention back to core business: titties.

I was at a conference yesterday where one of the keynote speakers was discussing the branding of organizations who claim to be working toward a similar goal. She note that when people think of the ASPCA they think "cute kittens and puppies" and when they think of PETA they think "controversial."

She was a pretty amazing speaker, defiantly a pro in her field and at public speaking, and her only stumble was on the word "controversial." I'm pretty sure she would have agreed that some more appropriate words might have been:

Sexist

Exploitative

Hypocritical

But you know, it was a room full of 800 people that work in the nonprofit sector, which is a diverse group of organizations, some of whose employees have probably donated to PETA or work for them. So you know, "controversial" was a safe bet.

Hit Girl Kicks Ass

I went and saw Hit Girl Kick-Ass this weekend and figured any sort of review I wanted to do would be a long time coming because there is a lot to unpack, and well, I am actually unpacking since I also moved this weekend. Lucky for me, I don't have to because Kate Harding just said everything I would have said, only better:

I really like the fact that Hit Girl makes some people who are usually comfortable watching SBUAALOPD [Shit Blows Up And A Lot of People Die] films incredibly uncomfortable. Because if you get past the sputtery “It’s a little girl! How could you?” response — which, granted, most people probably won’t — then it’s the kind of discomfort that leads to important questions about what we’ll tolerate watching, and why. I like that I walked out of there with a gut reaction of “That was awesome!” immediately followed by an intellectual reaction of, “Damn, it’s fucked up that I thought that was awesome.” That tells me I just saw something new, if nothing else. And on further reflection, the new thing for me was not a violent, remorseless, brutalized, potty-mouthed child but a female action hero with all the agency and skill of a man, whom the audience is not supposed to want to fuck. That is a pretty awesome thing, even if it is also frankly pretty fucked up that I thought that movie was awesome.

Sorry, that was the conclusion, but it a really good one and so is the rest of the review so go read the whole thing.

Your Friday Awesome: Eff Gender Stereotypes

So much gender bending, effing with stereotypes, win:

"Ian (B.S., mathematics; future sociology graduate student) modeling a t-shirt bought for him by his girlfriend, who found it in the children’s section of the Goodwill in Glendale, CA.The t-shirt has been destroyed… for the sake of humanity… and little girls everywhere" - Sociological Images

Your Friday Awesome: Woman's Last Stand

Could it be that the Super Bowl was such a pinnacle of anxious masculinity that we might as a society begin to dream about a world that does not celebrate a triumph in capitalism and misogyny?

...a girl can dream.

Modern Day Mad Men Channel Pete Campell

So, Method (that designy home care line that smells of cucumber and first gained market share at Target) made a really really dumb ad:

People Against Dirty - Shiny Suds - (2009) :70 (USA)

Melissa McEwen of Shakesville (and the rest of the angry feminist blogosphere) pointed out that the ad was very unfunny and supported the culture of sexual exploitation and assault of women.

Method responded saying "we're sorry you're so sensitive, but oh well it's funny! Exploitation is bad...but, funny!" (I paraphrase).

Madison Avenue then found out that one of their own was being criticized by those angry overly-sensitive feminists and freaked out. Not once, but twice.

What did we learn from this little exercise? A few things:

1. It's not just PETA that thinks the protection of the environment should leave women to be (ahem) washed down the drain.

2. The big wigs in advertising have not progressed much past 1963 in their understanding of gender.

3. Perhaps the reason they refuse to move on is because it makes their job easy. Its much easier to remain within the status quo (even if exploitative and supportive of a violent culture) than to actually be creative.

Of course, we can always assume that Method didn't actually see how offensive the ad was to begin with, since you know, they work in an industry where this (WTF Michael Bay directed! No, seriously.) crap is the norm:



But, you know what? There is a pesky little thing called learning and until they figure out what they did was dumb, sorry Method, but I'll get my biodegradable cucumber scented fix somewhere else.

Duh, Tires are Only for Dudes

Thanks, Bridgestone for adding your self to list of things I'm not going to buy. Though I'm sure you don't really care since I'm a nag, and never a driver:

Daily Mail: Wear a Girdle and Reject Modern Medicine or You're Gonna Be a Fatty

According to the Daily Mail British women have become fatties in the last 50 years:

We found that hips were an inch-and-a-half bigger, as were busts; then when we got to the waists and found six-and-a-half inches difference, it was: "Wow - everyone, man and woman, has a belly now"

A whole inch-and-a-half! Geez, that is huge! Never mind that British women are also two inches taller. And why are they taller?

It's partly down to nutrition - a better and more plentiful diet, explains Bernard Harris, professor of the history of social policy at Southampton University.

But, more surprisingly, our increased height reflects the lessening demands of the environment. Now, with warmer homes, better medicine and improved sanitation, our energy - significantly in childhood - can be devoted to growth.

There is also the cleanliness of our environment to consider. Antibiotics did not become commonplace until the mid-Fifties.

'In unsanitary conditions, you'll suffer diarrhoea more frequently and therefore retain fewer nutrients in the body. If you suffer repeated infections, you use up energy fighting them off, while you may also feel less like eating.'

I'm sure if British women had known that being healthy enough to gain two inches of height was going to lead to bigger feet and a whole two more inches in the boobs and six in the belly, they probably would have rethought things like fresh vegetables, antibiotics, indoor plumbing and central heat. Oh, but nutrition isn't the only problem:

It's not just a case of what was being eaten: post-war women also expended many more calories through housework and having to walk or cycle everywhere. It's been estimated that Fifties woman burned more than 1,000 calories a day doing her everyday activities (such as housework) compared with 556 today.

Ah, there we go. The reason Britons are lard-asses? Feminism. And technological advances like dishwashers and swiffers.

Frankly, I think the change in waist size that the Daily Mail chronicled is not only because British women are turning into the healthy, non-diarrhea-having, non-valium-popping, fatties the article suggests. They do mention that what we eat has changed, due to companies' tendency to shove as much cornsyrup and saturated fat as they can into our food to make sure it is tasty enough for us to keep buying it. But, considering that the the article is about the results of the UK National Sizing Survey, produced by clothing companies and department stores, it might be worth considering how clothing sizes and undergarments have changed.

My generation's bodies are different from our grandmothers and mothers simply because we don't constrict our waists with belts or girdles. It used to be that when you went to a department store, there was a "Foundations" department. That's because while we may have dropped the corset in the 1920's we very quickly picked up girdles. And that hourglass figure that the Daily Mail misses so much? That was poked and prodded and sculpted and shoved into place by a bunch of elastic and boning.

As the waist-belt and high-waisted pants have come back into fashion, those of us raised in the age of 80's casual, and who came of age in grunge, have realized one side effect of the trend. To put it mildly, those 70's inspired high-waisted pants, make a girl a little gassy. One friend finally got her mom to try on a pair of jeans that sat below her natural waist and her mom thought it was a breakthrough - her digestive system worked better!

Also, we need to say something about the idea that boobs are bigger. Yes, its true, they are a bit bigger, we are bigger everywhere else and we eat a hell of a lot more artificial hormones. And, there is that pesky little friend of women's liberation - the pill. But, since I've never written a study on a direct correlation between these factors and increased bust size (though lets say I've got more than enough anecdotal evidence to prove the point) all one needs to do is watch Mad Men to see that comparing 1950's and 60's bra sizes to today's is like, well, comparing apples to oranges...or maybe apples to missles.

So thanks Daily Mail, but I'll take my antibiotics, birth control, and undergarments that let me take a full breath over a couple of inches any day.

Via Jezebel.

Because Only Douches Have Cars That Need a New Paint Job

It is always nice when companies help us choose from the vast array of service providers available. By actively targeting the douchebag demographic, it aides in my decision of whether or not to utilize their services. Thus is the case with Earl Scheib Paint & Body.

There I was just watching Discovery Channel - sure, it's got all that crazy hard science about if you really can create a soda/mentos fountain, but it also has animals and stuff so girls can watch it too - when I saw this:



This ad clearly caters to the "I can't keep my zipper up" demographic. But, that is totally cool, because women are just sooooooo emotional and will get all "that time of the month" on your shit.

Then I saw this one:



Here they are clearly catering to the "I think that girls that look like 1980's Malibu Barbie are like totally hot and my neck is so huge from workin' out that I can't button the first three buttons of my shirt" demographic. It also points out for us that a new paint job is much like a new spray on tan - it looks nice on TV, but weird in real life.

And then I discovered this gem on the interwebs:



In this one the dude-bros went really deep. It explores the origins of a young man spurned by women who only care about superficial material possessions, which leads him to reassert his masculinity by becoming the cheating, leering douchebag of the previous commercials.

Thanks Earl Scheib, for explaining the psyche of modern 1988-1992 man.

PS: You might want to think about revamping your slogan. One assumes that "Scheib Happens" refers to the common colloquial phrase "shit happens." Basic logic leads your consumer to believe that Sheib therefore equals "shit." Just a thought.

Hollaback Update

A little while ago, I linked to a post I wrote over at Mother Jones on how to respond to catcallers. Today, Deeply Problematic (one of my new favorite blogs) has a piece on catcalling and "partner privilege."

Its a smart post about the many different privileges she has that make it easier to simply walk down the street. I am privileged in many of the same ways that she is: I am white, heterosexual and not just partnered, but married. I have far fewer catcalls to put up with on a daily basis, not only because I am often with my husband, but because when we are not together I have a giant symbol of my socially-sanctioned relationship on my left hand.

Now, the only time I am the recipient of these utterances is when I am with one or more women. Strangely, even if my husband or another man is with us, if the ratio of women to men is high, we will still hear them (I blame Mystery).

A case in point, was this weekend when a few of my friends and I went out dancing. The club we like to frequent is not a bastion of heteronormativity like other douchey places. In fact, on this night in question there was all kinds of partnering going on. But, the jackasses do seem to be everywhere so you have to stay on your toes.

The first time I went to said club, I came home with sore arms and shoulders. No, not from rockin' out, but from checking (with the help of a friend) all the dudes who thought my friends were there solely for them to grind their crotch into uninvited.

Since then, my husband has come out dancing with us because we like dancing together, especially to 1980's synth pop, 1970's metal, and current hip hop all smashed together (awwww). While we joke that he is our own personal security detail, my arms haven't been tired every night he has gone, because far fewer douches think it appropriate to assault - yes, assault - someone who has a friend that they think could kick their ass (read: male).

All this is to say, it made me sad when we were talking about our most recent dancecapades with a friend who had only gone with us the first time, sans my husband, and was one of the targets of dancefloor douchebaggery. She wanted to go again, but was concerned about feeling safe on the dancefloor, so another friend assured her that it was different when my husband or another man was there.

Sadly, this is true. It is true, even though the friend that offered assurances can probably benchpress more than any hipster jackass and can certainly deliver a roundhouse kick to the face. It is true, even though we live in a bubble of progressiveness and frequent clubs whose patrons come from diverse identities and sexualities. And it is true, that even though I have a Master's degree in dismantling the patriarchy and have trained pre-teen and college girls in personal safety, a night out dancing will be more fun with a male chaperone.

Megan Fox , Megan Fox, Megan Fox

Did I ever think I would write a blog post in defense of Megan Fox?

Nope.

But the interwebs are full of a special kind of misogyny today. Thanks to Asylum, AOL's men's lifestyle site - yeah I didn't know they were still around either, or that they needed to expand into "men's lifestyle" - August 4th has been declared A Day Without Megan Fox.

That's right, the very same dudes (and some ladies) that couldn't get enough of her are now saying they have given too many pixels to her. Even Reuters has gotten in on the act. But don't think for a second that they have had an epiphany about media overexposure, exploitation, voyeurism or the invasion of privacy. Nope, they just want to make sure they don't exhaust their page views too soon, "Sure she’s one of the sexiest young female actors, but in order to preserve both her sexiness and her freshness, we need to tone down the over foxposure."

So don't worry. Images of Fox will continue to grace the computer screens, but in the meantime these sites are suggesting nominees for "the next Megan Fox." It is so nice of them to point out how contrived and constructed celebrity is. According to these bastions of intelligent thought, Megan Fox is the poor man's Angelia Jolie and Odette Yustman is the poor man's Megan Fox. So, I get it. Women cannot be just themselves - or even a whole person - unless they are Angelina Jolie. Unfortunately, I'll venture to guess it is not her work with the UN, but rather her embodiment of a video game character, that provides her personhood.

But, does the timing of this "media blackout" seem a bit suspicious to anyone else? It comes on the heels of Fox identifying herself as a feminist and the release of the trailer for Jennifer's Body, a movie in which Fox's character literally eats men and excuses by saying she is not killing people "just boys."

While being aware that as a woman in Hollywood you are "You’re merchandised, you’re a product," is not necessarily a feminist understanding, she is very savvy about Hollywood and how she can capitalize on it. But, who knows, maybe hanging out with Diablo Cody more than Michael Bay will foster her feminist awakening.

Explosions! Testicles! Exploding Testicles!

Really, Michael Bay?

Really?

I mean we knew going in that Transformers: ROFL ROTF was going to be racist - though if you are going to call robots Mudflap and Skids shouldn't you employ the white trash Nascar stereotype instead of the illiterate, gold toothed, big-eared stereotype? Oh right, why would ignorance be consistent...especially since even the costuming wasn't - the main army dude couldn't seem to decide what parts of his uniform he wanted to wear from one second to the next. And don't tell me I should know the character's name. This is Michael Bay people. There are good robots, bad robots, military dudes, middle eastern (ahem, north African) villagers, frat boys, wacky parents, that hot overly tan chick and Shia LaBeouf.

Oh yeah, we also knew that it was going to be sexist. But that was a given, because only dudes like action films. And if we weren't quite sure, the previews made damn sure we knew - because obviously that is how you paint a motorcycle gas tank...duh! Don't you see the guys from Orange County Choppers doing that all the time? Oh sure, we finally had some female Autobots, but they were just pocket rockets. And of course they had to have female holograms so we knew they were girls, because again, duh, all robots are boys unless otherwise specified - and they also got blown up before they could have more than one line, since Mikey just didn't like them. But, the overly sexual girl Decepticon, that is a total rip-off of Species? She got lots of screen time.

But, lets get back to that all robots are boys thing for a minute shall we?

So there I was in the theater, fully aware that this was going to be the movie equivalent of a toasted marshmallow - oh so delicious, but of no real value, singed with some explosions - making snide comments to a friend who also enjoys robots and action movies and early 80's cultural references from a bit of a critical distance due to a social science undergrad degree - when we begin to gear up for THE BIG FIGHT. You know it's THE fight because it takes place somewhere that will let the CGI crew blow up historical monuments and all of the robots and humans are in the same general vicinity. More importantly, while everyone is hurrying to get their butts kicked or kick butt, the biggest robot of all shows up.

In my world of Transformers - the early 80's version of cartoons and toys - this robot was the coolest kind. It wasn't just one robot that transformed from a car/plane/machine but combined with other Transformers to make one giant one (obviously the toy I coveted). In this case, it was a bunch of construction equipment intent on sucking up the comic relief characters, but only succeeded in sucking up the "natives."

Oh, but just to prove the point that this isn't MY Transformers, as this giant robot climbs out of his construction pit from the bottom of the screen, Michael Bay decided to add a little something special to make sure we know that all robots are dudes and this is a dude movie.

I turned to my friend and said, "That robot has wrecking ball testicles."

Yes. Robot testicles. Wrecking ball robot testicles.

To prove the point, these Decepticon wrecking ball testicles become the target of the Air Force's giant secret weapon (whew, good thing you got that phallus in there!).

But really, Michael Bay? Have you ever heard about the perils of being heavy handed? Because, there are action movies that are about dudes, for dudes and are duderiffic that distance themselves from any lady viewers, but we can just roll our eyes and watch them, and then there are action movies that feel like a production company gave millions of dollars to a 12 year old boy in the height of hormonal spasm. Of course, they didn't. Instead they gave an adult millions of dollars and make me want to give you a swift kick to the testicles.

Particularly since this whole movie is about testicles. We have the Air Force blowing up Decepticon scrotum (ahem) - which is technically inaccurate since they are hanging freely. A human character tazers himself in the testicles. The same character lets us know that the uber-tan girl-character lands face down on his balls. Oh, and while not explicitly testicles, both dogs and dog sized robots hump things.

We get it! You are a dude, you like dude things, and being around dudes (but of course not in that way) and this is only for dudes.

But here is the thing: while Michael Bay spent millions of dollars to make a movie that every one agrees is awful, it seems that everyone involved with this movie wants to distance themslevs from it. Racism? That was Michael. Sexism? That was Michael. Giant robot testicles? That was Michael, again.

So here is my proposition. Stop letting Michael Bay make these movies!

Obviously Hollywood is attempting to squeeze as many $10.50 tickets and videogames and merchandising from my generation as possible, since according to my high school friends' updates on Facebook, not only can we buy it, but we should all have kids we can buy it for, too. Why else would every cartoon from our childhood be reissued as a line of toys or scripted into a blockbuster movie?

But here is the thing...we will see the movies and buy the crap anyway. You don't have to make all of our IQ's drop 40 points every time we see a movie in order to make obscene amounts of money. Any actress that you surround with robots and explosions will get YouTube hits. You don't have to spray-tan her within an inch of her life, or pretend that four inch heels and white pants are what you wear to save the world from giant alien robots.

Tone it down a bit, take into consideration that there are people without testicles who like this stuff, and even people with testicles that find Michael Bay ridiculous, and you will still make the number one movie in the world opening weekend. I promise.

Besides its not like you can sell a robot with wrecking ball testicles to kids, which makes your merchandising non-movie accurate, and that just disappoints the geek in us:


See? No testicles.