Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Some things in this world are hideous. Look at them.


You have probably already heard about Josef Fritzl.
He drugged and handcuffed his 18 year old daughter, and then kept her prisoner in an underground apartment. Over the 24 years she was there, she was repeatedly raped, and gave birth to seven of her father's children.
I read all I could about this story last night, from a few different sources to get as many facts as were available. Two aspects of this puzzling, disturbing story stood out to me more than the others.
One of the articles stated that Fritzl would get the maximum 15 year sentence if he were convicted of rape. Although Fritzl is 73 years old, and a 15 year prison sentence would likely see him die in prison, I don't believe 15 years is enough. I wonder if a charge of rape, or 'murder through failure to act' (another of the possible charges) is enough. I can't help but feel that the case is choked by this charge, serious as it is.
I feel like any one charge laid on this man in the hopes of getting the maximum sentence will not be punishment enough--will not get to the heart of what he has done to the lives of the vulnerable people he should have been protecting. In my heart I want to know that whatever happens to this man will be enough to deter anyone from doing anything like this again. The darkest, angriest part of me wants to see him made an example of. I guess that the law will do what it is able to do, and society will have to do the rest.

Which leads me to the second thing that was interesting about this case. Several of the articles had quotes from analysts and citizens in Austria. One newspaper commentator called Austria a "rich, self-satisfied society" and wondered why no one had asked any questions. This question is especially important because of Natascha Kampusch case in 2006. She was imprisoned for more than 8 years after being kidnapped. How is Austria like/unlike Canada, the States, or other parts of Europe? What do these crimes say about the state of our society, and about the relationships in families, neighborhoods and cities? Is this a trend, or a coincidence? A product of individual mental problems? Old world thinking? The objectification of women in the media?
I hope that when this story no longer has the power to shock, it remains in the news. I feel like it's a huge flashing arrow, pointing at a filthy tear in the fabric of society and begging us to mend it.

Friday, April 18, 2008

Extending the Internet

Internet searches are amazing. I get caught up in chains of information, and often end up learning about fascinating things completely unrelated to whatever I sat down to look up. I'm used to having my curiosity satisfied within minutes of wondering about anything, and get grouchy if I have a disagreement with someone while I'm out of the house or office, and away from the computer.
Another curious thing about this dependence is that sometimes in the course of a chain of questions I go to search for the answer to something that is impossible to research online.

An example of this: today I've been listening to Shabba Ranks at work (it is Friday after all) and while listening to this song, 'Wicked Inna Bed' a curious thing happened. The song is, as you can imagine, a big up to Shabba from Shabba about how good he is at the sexing.
I moved my mouse, almost without thinking, to the search toolbar and paused. I was about to google whether or not Shabba actually was good in bed. I am so used to feeling like the world is completely open to me through the web that it seemed logical to me to search for this information.

Thursday, April 17, 2008

Lazy or Resourceful

Yesterday I didn't want to go outside.
I was almost completely out of useful groceries, and needed something to make for my lunch for work.
So, rather than venture to the nearest store (about three minutes away) I decided that I would rather try to
make my own tortilla from scratch than to venture out into the great wide open.
So, I mixed some maseca with water, kneaded a ball, placed it between two cutting boards and stood on top of it to flatten it into a disc. Then I cooked it until it seemed reasonably edible, and stuffed it full of a mishmash of crisper remnants.
Lazy? Resourceful?
Amusing.

This image was labeled 'Jesus en Una Tortilla'. Do you see him?


Thursday, April 10, 2008

Naked Faced

At the laundromat, folding clothes.
Daytime television is on. It's Days of Our Lives, a show that I remember watching with my mother when I was a child. After a catty dinner scene in a restaurant, it's time for a commercial break.
Soap is no longer the starring sponsor...but I'm not sure that we've come very far.
Almost every commercial is for a beauty product. I listen to the slogans from behind the television and feel like I hear them for the first time.
Whispered: 'Maybe she's born with it...'
Sung: Maybe it's Maybelline.
(You're jealous of her...is she naturally more beautiful than you? No! You can purchase something that will give you the same powerful, illusive beauty)

'Secret Deodorant--Because You're Hot!'
(Their website has polls for 'hottest gadget', 'best way to keep your body smokin' hot' and 'best hangover breakfast'. I'm so glad that someone is providing a spot for young women to share their interests!)

And the last one I remember, an ad for under eye shadow-reducing cream.

Okay, I haven't been watching television for awhile now. And things really haven't changed that much...I remember these commercials, as well as shows like '10 years younger'. And perhaps I'm a touch more sensitive because I'm getting older, and closer to the possibility of....well, y'know...
















Crazy catladydom.
Art is wonderful. Some people see the enjoyment and application of makeup as artistic, and I agree that it can be. I have a problem with the distance that the regular use of makeup puts between the private person and the public person. I have a problem with how it makes you dependent on it, and causes others to feel inadequate.
The most skillful application of makeup is supposed to appear natural, which creates an unattainable illusion of perfection. It creates a short leash for women...chaining them to their purses and to their handmirrors and to the bathrooms of whatever establishment they're in.
These are not original opinions, but I believe them to be true. Restating them here is the equivalent of rubbing my own back and saying 'There there, the entire world isn't crazy.'
!
Hazzah!

Monday, April 7, 2008

Watch What you Watch



I'm not sure if it was watching Lawrence of Arabia right before bed or eating most of an aero bar while watching Lawrence of Arabia right before bed, but last night I dreamt that I was captured by my enemy.
She was dressed like a desert nomad, and shot me twice between the eyes at close range.
I felt the shots as I remember them being described in a Hemingway story: as white lights flashing behind my eyes, and a feeling of all my senses being overwhelmed.
After she'd shot me twice and I didn't die, I begged for my life.
"It's a miracle that I didn't die," I said.
"...just please let me live whatever kind of life I'm going to have."
She was about to shoot me again when I woke up.

Thursday, April 3, 2008

Oversensitivity.

There are loads of things I don't understand.
This image, for example. It was the desktop on the public
c
omputer at work for a few days. At first, I thought it was funny.
I wondered if it was a part of some kind of viral video or joke that I'd missed out on.

I have to use this computer every few days for some tedious time clock adjustments. Very shortly I got sick of looking at this crotch-grabbing plastic-clad party beast.
I started to think of it as a veiled insult to women, and started to be offended by it myself. But why?
One part of me looked at this as a harmless image. Kind of cute, composed well, definitely not going to change the course of art history. The tired, frustrated part of me started to see it as an indicator of an imbalance of attitudes in the workplace. A piece of humour that was inconsiderate to half of the population and half of the employees.
Is it about pancakes? Is it about breasts?

Either way, I couldn't stand to look at it anymore. Sometimes I'm so sensitive to this kind of thing that I make myself want to throw up.
I replaced that image with this one.