Monday 30 November 2009

Aus-Rotten - Sexist Appeal



Saturated with sex stereotypes gender roles reinforce inferiority
Exploiting anatomy, exploiting sexuality, preying on insecurities
Force fed proper mannerisms, treated different from the date of birth
Raised as men's servants who should never question their own sense of worth

Conditioning children with anorexic plastic of 'perfect' feminine traits
Learning how to hide any blemishes, meeting standards men create
Painting flesh like painting a picture that subliminally suggests
To equally conditioned men that women are just there for sex
Striving to achieve the super model image the media project
Spending countless hours enhancing a look instead of self respect
Eating disorders insuring beauty and endangering health
When living life behind a mask you cant expect to know yourself
When women are taught one way to act and men are taught another
The ability to accept and tolerate is absent from each other
Without understanding or communication the result too often is
Bigotry by ignorance unintended prejudice
Any man that would treat a woman as property you keep
is nothing but an ignorant bigot that can only see skin deep
having a relationship of inequality, treating a woman as a possession
taking advantage of devotion using emotions as a weapon
violating another's personal rights as if they never mattered
every day that begins with this conditioning ends with another woman battered
taught how to act, taught how to think
taught how to feel, told by another gender
sexist appeal dehumanizes women molding an image
making the body more important then what the person is
taught to pretend, taught to please
taught to conceal, told that you must surrender
sexist appeal demoralizes men, distoriting their view
making the body the most important part to pursue
initiating a chase that relies on deception
hoping persistant efforts will overcome rejection
conditioned by images lusting for sex
haunting men's thoughts of who they'll bed next
taught how to act, taught how to think
taught how to feel, told by another gender
sexist appeal dehumanizes women by abusing sexuality
another person's body shouldn't be viewed as a trophy
taught to pretend, taught to please
taught how to feel, told that you must surrender
sexist appeal demoralizes men, encouraging rape
another persons body is never for anyone else to take
treating a fellow person without any respect
condemning behavior as if the woman asked for it
society's distorted our judgement with what they suggest
why take no for an answer when no really means yes

[Woman's part]
we've heard it all so many times before
stop treating women like some trashy cheap whore
or a virgin that must lead to a sterile life
a surrogate mother under the disguise of the word wife
they make the rules but yet they don't play fair
forcing sexual stereotypes that make us all aware
of every single one of our failures in the eyes of society
telling me that I'm not quite what I'm supposed to be
I'm not married with two children or single with a career
I'm not drowning in some mortagage or living in financial fear
I don't cower as I walk home all alone throughout the streets
I refuse to be treated like a piece of trumped up meat
I turn away from the billboards that extol the latest fad
Of looking like a junkie in the Calvin Klein ad
Now its time to get beyond all of our rage and pointing fingers
To see through the lies no matter how much it lingers

Sunday 29 November 2009

Weirdest hangover.

That is all.

Saturday 28 November 2009

Tuesday 24 November 2009

Yet another "Automata" blog post.

Objectification of Womyn in the Sandman


It is obvious from reading the Sandman that the character of Nathaniel is a misogynistic, by our standards these days in any case. He is obsessed with womyn as images which is clear from his endless ruminations on the beauty of both Olympia and Clara. This infatuation with the image is so strong that Nathaniel actually falls for Olympia so easily despite an "uncanny feeling" he gets from her eyes (the loss of sight being his biggest fear).


However it is not this obsession with beauty that disturbs me. It is an attitude that is prevalent today not just 200 years ago and I am the first to admit that physical attraction is of vital importance when falling for someone romantically. No, what disturbs me most about the descriptions from the Sandman is there emphasis on 'perfection'. Clara is described as being exactly symmetrical while Olympia's face is described as seraphic. Since Olympia is also an automaton she will have been constructed with a concept of 'perfect'. But a 'perfect' image is uncanny. It is unnerving and unnatural and I believe is a large reason on why many people find dolls disturbing. Dolls tend to be perfectly symmetrical.


For me a large part of beauty lies in slight imperfections. A slightly crooked tooth, a mole in an odd place and even differently coloured eyes. It is these quirks that we all have that make us individuals (in terms of physical appearance in any case) and play a large part of attraction. Perfection is not possible and not natural, it's not real and it disturbs us. However thanks to the modern media the idea of the 'perfect' is becoming a constructed faux reality. People are led to believe that they should strive for this ideal rather than see the beauty that lies in every person. Olympia, can be used today, to symbolise just how distorted our own ideas of womyn have become. Not just how males view females but how womyn percieve themselves. A video I linked in one of my earlier blog posts showed the amount of digital and physical editing done to make a model appear 'perfect'. When you consider this is it any wonder that eating disorders are on the rise and fad diets are becoming much more popular. This is despite the fact that the uncanny nature of these 'perfect' models goes against our base instincts in so many ways.


Will H

Monday 23 November 2009

???

???????????????

Samuel Beckett fucks with my head. In a good way. :D

Saturday 21 November 2009

I finally got round to listening to...

Fall Out Boy's "My Heart Will Always be the B-Side to My Tongue" despite having had it on my iTunes for ages now. I was surprised enough at how good the cover of Love Will Tear Us Apart was that I ended looking for it on youtube as well.

Found this version with just Patrick Stump and it basically highlights why I like him as a singer. This video shows what I've always thought; he actually has a decent singing technique. There's a certain quality to it that most pop-punk singers lack (including many of my favourites). It's not that he has a remarkable range (though it's pretty impressive) it's that he knows how to use his diaphragm to support the notes. Correct diaphragm technique can even make a 20 a day smoker sound fucking ace. There are moments where he lets his shoulders take a little too much of the strain for the sharp intakes of breath but the vibrato is where it's at. There's no falsity in that, he's not doing it with his mouth; it's a guttural vibrato and it's fucking ace.

I dread to think

Just how many hours of Samuel Beckett plays I am going to watch tomorrow. If I counted correctly, when I flipped open the dvd case, there's 4 disks!!!

Friday 20 November 2009

I ocasionally listen to Brokencyde

To remind myself just how bad they really are.

Wednesday 18 November 2009

If I could move the stars I would,
If that would move your heart I could.

Tuesday 17 November 2009

Fire At Will

For you I guess I'll tear out my lungs,
And present them both on silver platters,
Only then in time perhaps,
Will you see again what really matters,

So I'll carry my burden,
Down the bottom of the well,
Beyond the burning sulphur smell,
Beyond the sand, the rocks, the swell,

The web of lies that he once span,
Were never a part of my masterplan,
I never foresaw the damage done,
When I first laid eyes upon the sun,

Under this hill,
You'll find no gold,
No matter your hopes, your desires, your will,
We're all just fools when all's been told.

I am not the man you think I am

And I am close to the edge.
Reading Sarte, drinking scotch and listening to music written by a manic depressant is not really indicative of a good nights sleep.

Bugger.

The Manic Speaks

If you could see inside my head,
If you really have that drive,
All polka dots and pretty colours,
You won't make it out alive,

No matter where you go,
Wherever you run to,
You will find huis clos,
And join me at this new low,
This decision is yours,
Join the brigade or blow,
And leave your tear-filled baggage,
You won't be needing it,
A ramshackle collection of wasteful habit,
The breather is running this skit,

Join us all,
On an endless ride,
The thrills you understand,
Will now begin to crumble,
The floor that once felt steady,
Will tremble below your feet,
And when the ashes start to rain,
You better commence your run,
For if you can't take the heat,
Get out of the oven son,

L'enfer, c'est les autres,
You are not the paper knife,
There's no puppeteer holding your strings,
You're condemned to be free,

An existential nightmare,
The manic understands,
For when the dreams are over,
He's the only one that stands.

The little green dot.

Little green dot,
Taunts me,
Mocks me,
Will never leave me be.

Another "Automata" blog post.

Similarly to Hannah I found the moment where Valerio removes his masks intriguing although for perhaps different reasons. Within our day to day life we all wear our own masks, we act differently around family, friends, strangers and we often act differently when alone with our own thoughts. I know I do at least. Way back in first year I had an interesting discussion with a friend in halls and came to the conclusion that these different ways we act are all a part of the cogent whole; they are elements of our personality that we let out at certain times. Following this discussion I dissected the parts to my personality and based them around a number of nicknames I have accrued over the years. I'm not entirely sure of the relevance but I thought I'd share them with you.

"Will (Me):
Will is basically the me that is out and about on a 24/7 basis. The bits of me you all know, as Will I am all the other parts put together into one sentient being... me :)

Bill/Billy (the dad):
This is my fatherly side. Bill is caring, loving and looks out for everyone else's safety before his own. This part of me mostly comes out when people are ill or drunk or just in need of some words of encouragement. This part of me reminds people of their dads which is slightly disturbing.

William (the geek):
This is the part of me that tells me to keep my head down and work like a bastard. I don't really listen to William anymore.

KillBoY (the rebel):
This is the side that tells me to dress in red and black, read Chomsky, make customised clothing, spread the truth of socialist ideals, partake in anti-war marches, listen to revolutionary music and basically stick two fingers up at the world's rulers. KillBoY is the holder of my secrets, there's darkness in KillBoY and you aint gonna hear about it.

Roy (the lad):
Roy likes to get pissed and make an arse of himself; often involving bodily functions. Roy's is also my violent side. He's my dark side, the side of me you don't want to piss off. He's the part of me that makes me work out. Probably the most common Roy trait that I'll show is my brutal honesty where I tell people what I think without thought of consequence. Unfortunately Bill/Billy usually comes out after Roy's outburst which sometimes results in rapid backpedaling and apologies. A balance can be struck though.

Stranded Hatter (the runner):
My sporty side, and yes I have one. Stranded is the part of me you see on the terraces of football grounds, or on a sports field running and turning to try and look useful while really doing nothing much atall; except for dead balls in football which I can actually use or in rugby which I can play. He has good tactical knowledge and knows where to be and when on the pitch, he unfortunately doesn't have the ability to back that knowledge up. Away from sport Stranded likes a good drink but for more manly reasons than just getting pissed. Stranded (or Strangled as he's also known) takes drinking seriously and likes to drink as much as possible without falling over or slurring. Stranded will remain seated in a pub until he feels safe to stand again."


These parts of me are still pretty relevant today (although I think I'm a very different person to how I was back when I first wrote them) and I think they are an example of the many masks we where in our day to day life. To some people I am known ONLY by the nicknames posted above and they only really see that side of me. It's especially true of the last one (Stranded Hatter) even though some of the people who know me as Stranded have started calling me Will lately, which is slightly disconcerting; almost as if they're venturing into another part of my life that they were never supposed to see. It is as though they have broken through one of my masks to see another part of me and it does make me feel slightly uncomfortable.


There's another part to my responses to the reading that I thought I'd share. I can't remember where I read it nor who said it but I know I once read that the only difference between comedy and tragedy, is that you do not empathise with the suffering of a comic character. They go through similar tragic demises, to the tragic characters. but they are created to be unsympathetic. Now this view of comedy may be slightly outdated now although it certainly rings true in many ways. If we use Friends as a contemporary reference point and take the point of Ross and Rachel's messy break up. Whenever Ross utters the phrase "we were on a break" we have no empathy for him; he cheated on Rachel and so we have lost any sympathy we may have had and so his desperation at trying to justify his actions becomes a humorous tragic folly which we find amusing. Also tying in Bergson's article with Friends you have "Fat Monica". "Fat Monica" is an example of Bergson's claim that an embarrassing body is amusing to us whilst, as a character from the past who bares little resemblance to the character of Monica that we become accustomed to, being someone we don't particularly empathise with either. "Fat Monica" is the perfect example of a cross between these two theories on comedy.


Now if we consider this viewpoint as correct then ideally robots would be the perfect comic tools. On the whole empathy with a robot is near impossible (let's leave Wall-E out of this please, he's scuppering my point) as there's nothing living about them to empathise with. Therefore machines have the ability to play the comic fool as their downfalls would merely be humorous and not at all tragic. Please also disregard that robot in the latest episode of Doctor Who; that wasn't funny, that was just plain irritating.

Monday 16 November 2009

I drink scotch to help me sleep, sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.

Tonight it didn't :(
I am an actor.
I am a singer.
I am a writer.
I am an artist.
Words are my pictures.
My tongue is my brush.

Nicely does it

Another empty bottle,
Hits the ash coated floor,
The loser's game is over,
This referee will dance no more,
He scarcely finds the time to breathe,
And winds up lingering on his knees,
To the sounds of the breaking glass,
The dreamer's nightmare has come to pass.

Saturday 14 November 2009

Seen it before


But still... LOL!

Tuesday 10 November 2009

Reading the news is bad for the brain

Read the Gruniad today... got angry. Rapists, lying oil companies, politicians being dissected because of their handwriting (rather than the fact that they are all faceless money grabbing subhumans completely out of touch with reality), a nuclear power plant replacing the country's most efficient wind farm.

This, combined with work is causing me to have a mental breakdown. :(

Saturday 7 November 2009

In a fit of lonliness and madness

I have done stupid things to my hair in the name of experimentation. I'm terrified of doing anything right now for fear of exploding as a result of all this hairspray!!!!!!

ABCBDEFD

There is a thousand different places,
Where I would like to be,
From the plains of Easter Island,
To the bottom of the sea,
But until these roads are run,
Until they all shut down,
I will never escape this prison,
My life now has become,

I long to stand beneath the rain,
In Japan and in Peru,
But these aftershocks keep telling me,
There's things I need to do,
For when the timing's right,
And when the deed is done,
There are many things I'll understand,
But I'll never get your plight,

And in this distant far off land,
Where I begin again,
I'll take your hand to comfort you,
And shelter from the rain.

Wednesday 4 November 2009

My blood is boiling

Do not turn up the heat.
Yes I will always be your friend,
No doubt until the bitter end,
But when you realise what you've lost,
I hope you know the price it cost,
I was there when you needed me,
But you weren't there when I needed you,
And again, again,
I'll pick up those pieces,
Until my brain and heart it ceases,
To recognise just where you stand,
And take the endless pain at hand,
And bares the burden forever fought,
Until this lesson has been taught.

Sunday 1 November 2009

Odd

Maybe I'm in a bad mood, although I don't think I am, but I keep getting an urge to punch certain people in the face.

It's odd. I'm sure it'll pass.