My Day

Before I begin this anecdote I have two requests.

1)  I'd like for my father to stop reading for long enough to set up a webcam.  I want him to record his reaction to this post for me.

2)  I want the first person (and that includes you, Dad) to make a woman driver joke to be on the next flight to Europe so that I can personally beat him/her over the head repeatedly with a German cuckoo clock.

Why the special requests?  Because today I learned to drive a car with a manual transmission.

It started with my leaving my cellphone at work.  Being that my cellphone is my major way of anyone getting ahold of me, I needed to get it.  Unfortunately, I only noticed it was missing from my purse on Saturday morning when most of the people I know in this country are hung over.  Also, I was tired of scamming, begging and bumming rides from eveyrone at work.  The lack of transportation was getting to me, and it even went so far as to make getting regular transportation even more difficult to obtain.  The problem was compounded by my antisocial nature.  I wanted to see some of Germany--Hel, I just wanted to see a movie--but not if it meant I had to talk to people.

So I got out my little book, borrowed a neighbors telephone and called the rental place.  I'd have a week of independance if nothing else.  They set me up that afternoon with some temporary transportation, that could get me to work, to the store, to the movie theater, and most importantly, to the used car lot.  The day would have all worked out perfectly but for one slight problem.  That being the manual transmission.  But I was prepared for that, sort of.

I'd read about it on the internet.

And I got a... briefing from the car rental guy.

Nevertheless, when I got into the car and tested it out, I found I couldn't move in reverse to get out of the parking spot.  I did everything as I'd been told, I didn't panic when the car started moving when I released the clutch.  I shifted the gearshift towards the R, but it wouldn't go backwards.  So I glanced around the partking lot, and accosted some random guy as he was exiting his car.

"Hey, you drive manual?"

"Yeah."

"Umm.. help?"

He nodded and came over, said he knew exactly the problem.  "European gearshift.  You have to shove it all the way over until it clicks, then up."

I did so.  The car still stubbornly insisted on moving forward.  This wouldn't have been a problem, if not for the other car parked in front of it.  The car I was getting just a bit closer to each time I tried to move.  So I had the random stranger sit in the car and try it himself.

(Dad, you had better be filming your reaction to this story.)

And what do you know, it wasn't my fault.  He couldn't get it go backwards either.  We had no choice but to go forward past the other car (we had enough room between the bumpers to slip a few pieces of paper by) and sure enough, as soon as we cleared the other car and switched drivers again the damned reverse started working.

No, I didn't back into anything.  But I swear, I put it in the exact same position each fucking time.

Still, I was doing fairly well.  Within a half hour, I got it moving around the parking lot smoothly--after stalling a few dozen times in the first 20 minutes--and felt comfortable enough to go to the street to get to work and look for my phone.  The street was an uphill street.  And of course, the damnable thing stalled at the top.  And of course, the next car--an ugly boxy yellow thing--pulls right up behind me.

So here I am, still adjusting to the clutch and the slight rocking backwards because the parking lot didn't have enough hills to get used to that, and a line forms.  The woman in the yellow car behind me couldn't back up due to the black car that was right behind her, and I couldn't get any further up the hill.  She was fortunately very amused by the situation.  She and her entire line of cars eventually passed me.  Then another line formed, this one smart enough to back away.

After providing a total of 20 minutes entertainment to the base population, a pedestrian stopped to help me figure out the right combination of accelerator and clutch motion (he advised thinking of it as a teetertotter).  I didn't have another problem until work, where I discovered that my phone was not left at the office.

But don't worry, I think I know where it is.

I focused on my next errand, because by heaven's frosty gate I was going to get something accomplished this day.  The building for the next errand happened to be up a large hill.  But I wasn't worried, I'd discovered the secret to hills.  I wasn't quite sure about the speed limit, but I'd discovered the secret to hills.

Well, I thought I had.  I was still getting used to the clutch, though, so I stalled when I got up the hill and tried to turn into the parking lot.  So I restarted the engine, and stalled again.  I got a bit frustrated with it, particularly the car's desire to slip backwards on the hill as I tried to get it to start forward.  Took maybe ten minutes to park because of that.  But after that I ran smoothly around base, from the store to the other store, to the first store when the other store told me they didn't have what I wanted.  I obtained some potentially valuable advice about diesel engines at the last stop.  Sure, I overshot the movie time, I'm afraid.  But I remembered the way home.

The shine on remembering the way home was dulled when I stalled twice on the way home.  Both times entering traffic circles, which just sucks because there is someone moving in a little circle in front of you and invariably there is someone behind you.  That just makes recovering from the stall worse because there's suddenly this sense of urgency.

To top off the day, I stalled entering my freaking driveway, because guess who lives on the side of an uphill road! (And some jackass blasted his horn at me, which is illegal withing city limits, and startled me into releasing the clutch too soon as stalling a second time while I was trying to recovering from the first stall!)

But all in all it was a fairly productive day.  I'm now confident I can get to work and back (though I'm not touching the autobahn yet, I don't care what stupid souvenirs people want from other parts of Germany), and I've expanded my options for permanent transportation.  (There aren't many automatics for sale where I'm at, so this is a big thing.)  For this I'd like to thank my AWOL cellphone, my three impromptu teachers, the road-gods of Germany, and the cops who pointed and laughed as I banged my head against the steering wheel in frustration.

(And Dad?  Upload the video to Youtube, so I can watch it at my leisure.)

Tales from the Chatroom

Kalinara's been reading back issues of Sgt. Fury and His Howling Commandos today, and has treated me to a running commentary on the plot.

This includes her opinion on Nick's love interest Pamela.

An excerpt:

Kalinara (12:16:06 AM): Oh no, he's buying her a ring

Kalinara (12:16:09 AM): She's going to die.

Kalinara (12:16:10 AM): ...

Kalinara (12:16:12 AM): YAY

Then how can you call them good guys?

Lebovitz's Limit: Do the good guys torture? (Via)

Webfighting falls under this blog, doesn't it?

I've been a bit quiet due to finally finding a permanent residence, then waiting on Internet access, then losing internet access for a weekend. Yeah, I'm out in the sticks here.  (I did manage to finish a few good books like the last couple Hellboy trades, Small Favor and Livewires -- Good god, why did no one tell me how awesome Livewires was?)

Anyway, during the brief period I had net access last week I wrote a column. Now that I have it again, I went to check the column and found I was being called out by one Mark "My Underwear is Two Sizes Too Tight and That's What's Up My Ass" Engblom, who feels a feminist should be unquestioningly supportive of any female candidate:

Simply this: Lisa’s blog-life revolves around the advancement of women…but now that one’s knocking on the door to the vice presidency…well, I guess that’s not the RIGHT kind of woman for Lisa and the rest of the snarling lefty feminists out there who can’t stand the fact that a conservative women might just beat the “acceptable” feminists to that role. The Palin nomination has cause quite a few masks to fall, one of them being the hypocrisy of so-called feminists who are now rallying to stifle and push down a fellow woman on the verge of making history, yet doesn’t fit their narrow ideological spectrum.

Now, I consider Engblom's assumption that feminists should support a markedly antifeminist candidate just because she's a woman to be sexist so I came up with a long response. Then I decided against posting it on the actual thread of a post, because it's too damned long,Blog@Newsarama's comments were fucking up and it will just encourage the idiot to keep arguing with me in a place that is not my webspace.  I prefer to fight in my own backyard, at my leisure. So I'm giving it to you guys and if Engblom wants to come over and run his mouth in my territory rather than Matt Brady's he can:

Actually, I'd consider it a feminist act to vote against a female candidate who stands against your beliefs, just as it is a feminist act to vote for a female candidate who stands for your beliefs. It breaks down one of the fundamental constraints on women in our society, mainly that we are all considered a single demographic.

Here's an example: I just had a mild disagreement with a coworker who was kind enough to drive me to the store. I promised him it would be quick because I had a list. He laughed and said that no female could stick to a shopping list.

I raised my eyebrow, and--almost forgetting he was doing a nice thing for me--told him he was wrong.

"Look," he said, "I have a sister and a wife--"

"And I have 7 items on my list, and that's all I'm walking out of this store with."

I walked out of that store with 7 items. All on my list, no more, no less. He may think it's just because we argued or he may think I'm simply an oddity but the simple fact of the matter is he was wrong to make an assumption about all women based on just the two he knew. It simply wouldn't have been feminist to let the attitude go unchallenged.

See, one of the points of feminism is making the culture learn that woman are not interchangeable. This goes from the shitty characterization of and the comparison of any and all notable women to Wonder Woman, to the idea that I'm going to shop in the same way my coworker's sister, to the idea that Hillary Clinton's voters are going to be attracted by the addition of Sarah Palin to the ticket.

Sarah Palin is not Hillary Clinton. Sarah Palin never will be Hillary Clinton. The two are the opposite on just about every issue that matters. In fact, I have to say I respect Sarah Palin for not pretending that she is Hillary Clinton.

But anyone who voted for Hillary Clinton would be an idiot to vote for Sarah Palin, just as anyone who wants to vote for Sarah Palin would be an idiot to vote for Hillary Clinton.

Because these women are different.

Because--and say it with me--women are not all the same.

And that's one of the points of feminism, getting rid of these stereotypes. Destroying these assumptions. Making it so women can be judged on their own merits rather than assumptions made about their gender.

And this is what we're doing, judging Clinton and Palin on their merits, not their gender. Which means some people is going to love Palin and hate Clinton, while others going to love Clinton and hate Palin.

That's the way it would be with male candidates. That's the way it should be with female candidates.

This is not bitterness. This is not jealousy. This is taking what's best for you and the country into careful consideration before you pull the lever. This is listening to what the candidate says about the issues that affect rather than looking at their race/gender/religion and seeing how it matches to yours and assuming that their policies will benefit you somehow. This is taking your civic responsibility seriously. This is taking your rights seriously.

This is called thinking, Engblom. You might want to try it sometime.

It all reminds of my mother excitedly telling me that McCain had chosen a female running mate. I grinned, and laughed and informed her this wouldn't get me to vote for McCain unless it was someone really awesome.

"She's a conservative woman," Mom said proudly. (Mom is a conservative woman.)

"Oh, then I definitely won't vote for him. I liked Clinton because she was a liberal woman--well, an acceptably centrist woman. I'm not going to vote for just anyone because their running mate has the same parts as me." And for a few moments, I was happy, because it meant that I wouldn't vote for someone just because she was a woman. I felt rather satisfied with my enlightened viewpoint. And Mom, who I don't give enough credit in political discussions, was smart enough to understand that.

Then I researched Sarah Palin and started to get pissed off at her views, but this isn't really the blog for complaining about that. This is the blog for culture shock chronicles, comic books, and laughing at idiots in the online superhero fan community.

Congratulations, Mr. Sulu

George Takei marries longtime partner Brad Altman

The Ormes Society needs a leader.

Cheryl Lynn Eaton: Ah, I see that it is time to flex my muscles and get my Doctor Doom on! Unfortunately, Cheryl Lynn Eaton will be abdicating her positions in both the Ormes Society and Torchbearers to pursue goals unrelated to the field of comics. She has had an absolute blast meeting all sorts of wonderful creative people during her time in both communities as well as the larger comics community and will cherish the friendships she has fostered. Interested in taking the reins at Ormes or Torchbearers? Please contact Cheryl Lynn via e-mail!

--Digital Femme Online

The email's webmaster @ digitalfemme.com without the spaces.

Recommended Reading

In Defense of the Man of Steel

Great Guardians!

Mogo's a girl? (Last bit of audio at the end.)

August 29th

It's the little things that bring on the biggest culture shock sometimes.  Like the windows over here.  They are awesome and can be configured to be open at the top or opened by the side.   They just seem neat until you see there are no screens, which is weird.

And the toilets.  Rather than a latch there's a little paddle built into the wall or the back of the toilet that you press on.  The toilet in the hotel flushes by way of pressing a little oval right above the seat.  (It's perfectly situated to reach back and hit with your elbow while sitting on the toilet, so I suspect it was designed by a woman.)  Still, it's just this odd little difference between here and the US.

And then there's the train station newstand.  We took the train into Trier to see the Porta Nigra today, and the train station newstand had comic books.  Not Archie comics mind you, but All-Star Superman and X-Men issues and Captain America trades.  And the one in the Market Square had an entire rack of Manga, like you'd see at a bookstore.

Now, maybe I've just been unlucky but when was the last time you saw comics at a train station or airport newstand in US?

This is going to take some adjustment.

It's been about a week since my last update, so let me fill you in on the move.  Germany looks remarkably like Lackawanna County in Pennsylvania.  There are a lot of trees and gentle mountains and the little living areas are very spaced out.  Lots of farmland and wilderness too.  My coworker told me this area is known as the "Black Forest."  Yes, of Frau Totenkinder fame.  I like the climate, it's cold and rainy.  Haven't dealt with too many Germans yet--potential landladies excluded--but I can see my work's cut out with me in the new office with all the other transplanted Americans.

I am the only woman in the shop, which isn't too surprising.  Depressingly few women go for my career field, I'm only accidentally in it myself.   I'm actually one of four women in the building, which is a tad bit disconcerting.  That my shop hasn't had a female technician assigned to it for almost three years prior to my arrival is downright infuriating.  Something needs to be done about the lack of women in technical career fields.

In the meantime, a shop that is very set in its ways tries to adjust to mixed company.   The ground rules about profanity have been laid, but two incidents display the difficulty that still exists here. Last week I found myself without anything to do and so I tried to sort a particularly annoying pile of junk.  The boss was quickly disturbed by this and insisted that disorder and chaos were the proper way of the world.  For my part I fell into the stereotypical role of the only woman in a small group and continued to arrange things as I saw fit.  The rest of the shop was very amused, and started taking bets on what week I'd lose my sanity.

Today in the office they were rearranging the notices and bulletin boards on the wall to accommodate a very large whiteboard.  The men were asking each other if it might fit the spot on the wall they'd cleared for it.  Now, everyone in this shop carries personal tools attached to their belt depending on what they need the most so this was a perfectly logical thought on my part.  I asked if any of them were carrying a tape measure so that we could see before they lifted the heavy thing up.

My boss turned to me and said--and don't get me wrong here, he said it with good humor--"We're GUYS!"  because to him maleness implies a lack of logic, organizational skill and good sense.  Personally, I think they're using sexism as a excuse not to do their jobs correctly.  This was a problem in my last office, but getting put in charge of the shift let me teach some of them not to give in to antimasculine stereotypes and just do the fucking job.  I don't have that luxury here, it's the boss who needs the training.

On top of that, they insulted my technical abilities.  The rest of the shop joked that I'd be telling them to read the directions next.    How on earth did they get the idea that using the proper tool to make their job easier was on the same level as consulting the idiot manual?

That aside, I do like the people there.  Very relaxed and full of joking, like a good maintenance shop should be.

And I may have found a place to live.  It has a balcony, a landlady who can't pronounce my name, and the option of DSL so the comics community won't be rid of me just because I'm in German Appalachia now.

August 24th, 2008

I have to confess to having written off Girl-wonder.org since they got their mascot back a few months ago.  I'd had hopes for Project Girl Wonder as a test run to see how much influence they could gain over the Powers That Be but rather than move on from their victory to other projects most Spoiler-advocates seemed to take the resurrection as a malicious way to circumvent giving them exactly what they wanted (it was a way of avoiding giving them exactly what they wanted, but I don't believe it was malicious).  Rather than realize the pull they had they took it as Dan Didio laughing at them and collectively sulked.

As a Green Lantern fan who watched them lobby for ten years to get a major character morally cleared I was actually pretty disgusted with the organization.  As I saw it this was a major victory and they were going to squander it because it wasn't precisely what they wanted!  They didn't realize how vicious an enemy Perfect was when it came to Good.  I think if I hadn't had real life issues to distract myself with I'd have lost my temper and alienated the whole lot.

But rather than take the wind from the organization's sails as it initially appeared, the move by DC has managed to give them a chance to refocus their efforts on more substantial projects.

And no, that's not a swing at Steph-fans.  I understand the point of Project Girl Wonder, but it was a quest for an entirely symbolic gesture.  You have to admit that despite working in graphic literature and being buried in symbolism from it's customers to its CEOs the comics industry doesn't seem to understand the abstract very well.  That's most likely why DC went and one-upped the request.  They probably figured it would make these fans happy without giving them exact creative control (because giving masses of fans exact creative control would be disastrous in this industry).  Concrete efforts are what get you the respect.

But Friday, when we were all bickering and whining over John's call to action, the Board at Girl-wonder.org were acting and building a resource for anyone who wants to make their local convention as well as SDCC safer.

And today they've unveiled a map for locating female-friendly comic book stores, which for me personally may prove to be an invaluable resource if its kept current.  (I imagine some shops are going to gain and lose status a few times, but when you move to a new area or even have lived in an area for a while with little luck it really helps to have a place to start.)

I can't say I ever got behind the initial project, as I'm not much of a Batman fan and I despised the Spoiler character to begin with.  I mostly hoped they'd use it as a jumping off point for bigger and better things, which they have.  That makes me enormously happy, and I may even break down and buy a tee-shirt.

But I urge everyone to look at, use, and add to these resources as they can.  Keep them strong because whatever you may think of the initial Project Girl Wonder and symbolic efforts, these are concrete resources that have enormous potential to do good in the industry.

Anyway, that's my attempt at an apology. Sorry for doubting you, Girl Wonders, I was wrong.

It wasn't even one of my funnier statements.

To distract myself from having to wait on the latest issue of Captain America (if you spoil this before my comics package arrives in the mail, I'll make you pay) I chose to spend my sparse spare time this evening being a dick in Kalinara's comment section.

I know, I know, but I had to say something.  It started out as a good idea but I couldn't wrap it up properly. It was a weak insult, so was I surprised when I managed to get an entire country of Germany insulted as a response.

Have fun in Germany. Considering the foul and hateful-minded person you are, you ought to fit right in with the cournty that helped to spawn a certain other well-known loud-mouthed and hateful jerk.

Ahh, the sweet smell of Godwin in the morning. It smells like a fool who doesn't have a point left to argue.

ARRGHHH!!

I am on the plane in less than two hours, and I have neglected to buy one comic from my pull list before leaving the fucking continent.  And it's one I wanted to read.  :(

Now I'll have to wait.

Recommended Reading

Here.

I STILL aten't dead.

Even though it's been long enough to realize that absolutely nobody is still checking this blog (I double-checked the stats, flatlined at zero for at least a month), that's no excuse not to use it.  I have, of course, had many other excuses not to use it in the past few months but it's nearing four in the morning, I've nothing planned in the morning and I'm unable to sleep anyway.

It hasn't been the greatest week for sleep.  After several months of professionally and personally preparing for an extended stay overseas, packing up every bit of my life in Oklahoma and sending it to the boat, dragging that furry bastard on a plane ride to Pennsylvania so that my sister can feed him (I can't bring myself to trust anyone in Oklahoma City to care for a cat, there are too many stray cats wandering around.  Someone is letting them loose), I came home to discover that my mother has decided to drown me in the best aspects of American Culture before I cross the Atlantic and forget everything here.

Or perhaps she's trying to make me feel better about leaving the country.

You need to understand what I mean by American Culture to truly get what sort of week this has been.  When people ask where I'm from, I like to say "Scranton."  I say that so that it'll sound like I'm actually from somewhere.  I'm not.  I'm not even from a town.  I grew up in a township.  I could never name the mayor of this township, because I wasn't sure (and still aren't sure) that there was one.  The most well-known person in the township seemed to be my father.  I suspect this was because he was a policeman.  Near as I can figure, there were only five policemen in the entire county, and they worked part time for the different municipalities.  There are a lot of trees here.  And some hills.  And on certain nights growing up all of my father's relatives (who lived within two miles of the house) would gather together at dinner and it would end with my parents strumming old country hymns such as "Green Green Grass of Home" and "In the Garden" on ukuleles and forcing the kids to sing along.  I went to a school district where, if you were late for school one morning and went to sign in with your excuse it wasn't uncommon to see "Horses got loose" in a previous spot on the sheet.  My coworkers at my first job asked if I rode a donkey to school when they found out where I was being taught.

The woods all around where I lived where posted "No Trespassing" signs, and I used to sneak lightly around them worried about some old hillbilly with a shotgun aiming for anyone who crosses his land.  I thought I was lucky to not be under fire when I wandered those woods.  It was my mother's comparatively upscale upstate New York relatives who finally clued me in that the old hillbilly with the shotgun was my own father, and that the "No Trespassing" signs were to keep hunters from wandering in and mistaking the little brown-haired girl in the brown coat for a deer wandering those woods.

Now, I suppose you could attribute my reluctance to name my home"town" right off when someone asks where I'm from to shame, but really it's just weariness.  After so many times of explaining what a township is and just where in the larger-than-it-seems state of Pennsylvania mine might be I just settled on the nearest city as a workable location.  I couldn't honestly say I was from Philadelphia or New York, but if asked I could say that Scranton was somewhere in between and leave it at that without too many people trying to find out what a township is.

On the contrary, rather than shame I've encountered more often a strain of that irritating hillbilly pride--irritating because the hillbilly/redneck/hic/yokel/etc pride turns out to be just as judgmental and snobbish as the upper class city stereotype it rails against for being snobbish and judgmental and hypocrisy is just fucking annoying no matter where you find it--in me.  This is due to the exact position of where I'm from.  With Philadelphia to the south and New York to the north, I never labored under the impression that Scranton was the proverbial "Big City."  I knew exactly what a big city looked like and San Antonio, Oklahoma City, New Orleans, Chicago, St Louis--none of them impressed me like people figured they would a sheltered hillbilly girl who just joined the military.  Indeed, my friend Liz from Wyoming insisted that I was from a city and just didn't know what real country looked like when I wasn't impressed by San Antonio.

But on the other hand, San Antonio is no slouch.  Neither are any of the other cities I've seen New Yorker and Los Angelino Airmen turn their noses up at.  The idea that San Antonio is a small town or has a small town feel is fucking ridiculous and the expression of that idea only proved to me that a certain Airman's Chicago apartment was just as sheltered as any Wyoming ranch.  After the fourth of fifth idiotic Airman from either side, I realized that growing up in the wilderness meat of a megalopolis sandwich had given me a sense of perspective that many people lacked.  And to this day I use that sense of perspective to feel superior to country folk and city folk alike.

But I'm rambling again, the point was to illustrate what my mother meant by "American Culture."  In the past week and a half I have been to the Pocono Speedway (I got to watch the cars go round and round and round), Gettysburg (which was actually pretty fucking cool and I would advise anyone who sets foot in the United States to visit that town), New York (People where I grew up tend to consider this city something of a large shopping center with a good theater attached, so we made a conscious effort to sightsee this time), Hershey (where we forgot to buy chocolate for my father), and a Toby Keith/Montgomery Gentry concert and I haven't gotten my comics for a few weeks.  I've had some fun in all that but I'm pretty fucking tired and I've been pretty fucking busy, and I still have a transatlantic flight to look forward to.  And a foreign country.  Which I strongly suspect will throw that finely tuned sense of perspective out of whack.

I'm going to Germany, and while I've been both excited and freaked out I find myself with just two main thoughts:

1) I'm so glad my high school didn't offer German lessons.  Four years of sleeping through Spanish left me with the embarrassing tendency to nod off whenever I heard the language, which was just plain awkward in San Antonio.

2) The scene in Frankenstein with all the villagers carrying torches and pitchforks.  But I'm not sure if that's a sign of prejudice or anxiety.

So, if anyone was wondering why this and my other online projects are so dead this summer, it's because I had bigger and more annoying things going on and it might continue for a bit.

Robert Downey Jr to play Sherlock Holmes for Guy Ritchie

July 1, 2008

I was chatting with Kalinara today when she asked for advice on her blogpost.  She wanted to know if she should keep or jetison a paragraph.

It reminded me of when I lived in San Antonio when I was 19, and I had a 24-year old friend named Liz.  Liz and I would go shopping and see movies and generally hang out, and I almost always turned to her when I couldn't decide between two options.  She always had a clear and confident choice when I asked her.  I think it had something to do with the fact that Liz had an opinion on everything; she informed me of the difference between Tex-Mex and Mexican food, that skinny cowboys with freckles are hot, and that only sluts wear red.

She also informed me that I was both deceptive and straightforward, which still makes my brain hurt a little to process.

One day, Liz asked me why I always asked her to make my decisions for me.  I hadn't even realized that was what had been happening.  She informed me that I did it all that time, that she knew I'd decide on whatever she said, and that she sometimes just chose the option that was the most amusing option.  Usually, she didn't give a shit and just randomly picked one and inwardly rolled her eyes at my sheepyness.

I suspect that was what prompted me to go into my red clothing phase (Kalinara would like to add "For the record, I'm not letting you pick out my clothes" to this part of the post) , but I'm not sure.  I do know that this wasn't the only time Liz's casual dickishness taught me a valuable lesson, and for that I'm grateful.  Even if she did have really shitty taste in food.

And men.

And comics.  She only bought Meridian, Tarot and Witchblade, for heaven's sake!

Nevertheless, I miss Liz.  She was my Wednesday comic-book buddy for over a year.  I think she went back to Wyoming after she left the service.  I hope she got the job and family she wanted.

I ended up giving Kalinara a completely random choice, because Kali picks whatever the fuck she wants anyway.  I'm not sure whether that's indicative of the influence Liz had on me or the influence Kalinara has on me.

Checking in.

I have a feeling this one will attract a fight.

In other news, I saw an idiot when I poked my head out of my subterranean cave this morning, so 6 more days without Ragnell.

Still a bit wrapped up in my real life.

The unread post count in my feed aggregator is sitting at 3808, which is pretty damned scary at the moment.  So rather than even try to attack that I thought I'd just drop a note to assure everyone that I am not dead, not in a coma, not time-traveling, and not captured by supervillains.  Whether or not I've been presiding over the prisons, brainwashing facilities and/or death traps containing superheroes I'm not at liberty to say.  I can say I haven't seen Hulk yet (and I won't be deterred from that mission so don't bother with spoilers or bad reviews).

I'm more than a little behind.  See, over the past 3 weeks I haven't managed to read any comic that isn't in Ed Brubaker's Captain America run.  I've made it to the store, but reading time's been scarce and so all I've read are the trades I carry in my purse for spare moments.  (The beauty of comics, quick reads for quick breaks!).

I will admit that my thoughts turn more charitably towards Quesada, as he was willing to put Brubaker on Captain America, and I'm still savoring the results I praised earlier this month.  That Omnibus hardcover is very very nice, and Brubaker's Captain America ranks with Robinson's Starman as one of the few comics that make me willing to shell out for an expensive hardcover collection.  It's led me to one of the joys of reading comics again, finding a new little universe.  I never was a Cap reader beyond isues of the Avengers before, so I'm discovering the franchise details for the first time.  And I almost forgot how much I love to plunge into a story and trace the plot threads and characters back through the years, piecing together a picture of a universe cobbled together by so many hands.   65 years of hands.  That's why nothing can replace superhero comics for me, it's the history of it.  There's this labyrinth of actual continuity, complicated by retcons and revision as well as your normal twists, turns, dead ends and false paths.  And I'm following plot threads backwards through this monster-sized maze, not so much to find a way out but to collect all of the treasure in the maze.  I can't miss any of it, even if I've read a synosis or know how the whole story turns out.  Hell, part of the fun of back issues is you can sort of read the story backwards that way, starting with a fully developed character and making your way to the seeds of his or her personality.  Internet writeups serve as a guidebook for these tours, telling you where the most worthwhile sites to see are, letting you know not to expect too much from certain places, and giving you behind the scenes information that helps you understand how a character could possibly go from point A to point K, or even from Point D to Point X-which-is-actually-more-similar-to-Point-A-than-Point-D-was.  And of course they tell you how Point A got remodeled somehow during the journey so Point Q makes more sense than it would have at Point H and at the original version of Point A, and that this is all explained at Point N--Honestly, how can anyone not just adore mainstream superhero comics? It's like spending an afternoon lost in your hometown!

I'm rambling again.  I've been busy, but I had a wonderful way to relax and when I get some free time I'll have to do some serious back issue hunting.

Until then I have the odd moment on the internet, Kalinara's font of knowledge, and the trades and hardcovers I've managed to snag on my lunch break (Only work evenings if your office is within 20 minutes of a comic book store, it's just less stressful that way)  to occupy my time.  And Captain America has entertained me so much when I needed entertainment that even though I'm sure he doesn't know or care about it, I'd still like to publically take back some of the mean things I've said about Marvel's Editor-in-Chief.

Not all of them.

Certainly not the true stuff.

But definitely anything that's an absolute.

And if people are still paying attention to this blog after this long break...  Wow.  Thanks?

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The thread that keeps on giving.

We came up with an interesting question about the Black Widow in this comment thread which was derailed by the beginning of a beautiful fight that led into another comment thread (which was unfortunately ended by a sudden attack of honesty and understanding--what the fuck Kalinara have you been hiding mutant powers or do you just know me that well?). Because a question which is vital to the peace of mind for all involved has surfaced, and because researching this question would required digging through a crossover that was written by Mark Millar, I'm going to throw it out to the internet:

Do any of the Civil War tie-ins and fallout issues explain why Natasha decided to go pro-reg?

LurkerWithout thinks her personal loyalties should have put her with Nick and Cap, John feels that she was going for her own interests, Dan thinks she cut a deal (or that she's a Skrull), and I think she's watching things at SHIELD for Nick Fury while he's been forced into hiding.

In all likelihood this question has already been answered in one of the five billion Civil War tie-ins, or some issue of something since then but as I said before that's too much to sift through and some of them were written by Mark Millar. Did any Marvelfans out there spot a sequence that explains Natasha's reasoning, and would they care to explain it?

Quick Note

Just received this comment on my own personal blog:

Quick question. Is When fangirls attack a manga site now? Thanks.

You guys do realize we have fucking jobs and real lives here, right? I've had a miserable busy week and haven't checked a single feed since last Monday, Kalinara's had a miserable busy week, and Anna runs in her own circles. Sometimes, Anna will be busy and someone else will be doing all the posts in a row and you won't see any fucking manga for a little while. No one's being paid for this, we all have our own responsibilities.

When I see complaints like this it makes me want to close up shop. No, actually it makes me want to post every fucking link as "Link" and put them all in a paragraph so that you can't tell the superhero from the manga or the trolls from the activists and the fans. It makes me want to change the titles and the names of the authors with the links. It makes me want to arrange it so that every single substantial post is buried in the middle of troll links, featuring the best of the most hated people in the community.

And if I space it out right, I can do it without violating the stated linking policy.

There are only two things stopping me from doing this. There's the thought that this is just one or two fucking morons in a sea of reasonable people who understand that we have jobs, and lives, and families, and shit to do when we're not on the Internet. And the knowledge that if I went and burned down the fucking house not a one of you would step up to rebuild it.

Okay, there's also the miraculous font of sanity and diplomacy that is Kalinara. You guys have no idea how crazy mean I actually am.

Movie thoughts

(Don't ask what I've been up to.)

A few months ago Kalinara had a post pointing out the similarities between Wonder Woman and Captain America, and with the Captain America movie rumors (McConaughey, now this guy) I may have found another one.  We all know the Wonder Woman part is the favorite rumor of any pretty brunette starlet who needs to attract attention, Captain America may get to be the part that any handsome blond looking for leading man status wants to be linked to.

Come to think of it, it may be just as hard to cast as Wonder Woman.  You need someone very traditionally masculine who can pull off cheerful, old-fashioned, gentle, quiet and inspiring all without looking like a parody.  With Wonder Woman you need traditionally feminine but able to pull off utterly self-confident, powerful, friendly, pure hearted and inspiring all without looking like a parody.

I'm much more confident the Captain America movie will be made than the Wonder Woman movie, mind you, but it's interesting the similarities.  When they finally do cast it I bet the guy will be very much a modern male version of Lynda Carter.

And while I'm on the subject of comparing the two franchises, Bucky's a much better grown-up sidekick who came back from the dead in a convoluted story with an identity crisis than Donna's ever been.  Does anyone else think Brubaker might be able to do something worthwhile with Donna and Cassie if he got ahold of them?

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I've caught up on Brubaker's Captain America run.

(Seriously, that's what I've been up to all week. I've read everything Brubaker wrote about Cap or Bucky that I could get my hands on.)

And I have new favorite Marvel couple.

Bucky and Natasha, who the hell would have expected them to fit so well together?

It may help that Buck doesn't seem to smile at all in the entire run until that point she implies there might be a future for them.

And that even though Natasha is the ever-present ex-lover of half the Marvel Universe, this is the first time the romance backstory has actually seemed romantic. Normally it's more like she's been fooling around with a good friend she finds hot. (Not that I have anything against Natasha's healthy attitude towards sex, she just never seemed to be in love with a lover before Brubaker wrote her, so I've never been able to see her as part of a couple before.)

This must be explored.  And made into a normal thing.  With teamups.  And pillow banter.  And riding together on a motorcycle.  And staying in and whispering sweet nothings over takeout food.  And (once he gets back) the awkwardness of Steve accidentally walking in on them messing around.

Comic Art Indigene

May 11th-January 4th at the Museum of Indian Arts and Culture in Santa Fe, Nex Mexico.

Comic Art Indigéne which opens at the Museum of Indian Arts and Culture on May 11, 2008 looks at how storytelling has been used through comics and comic inspired art to express the contemporary Native American experience. Under the larger definition of narrative art, comic art is more related to Native American art traditions than one might expect. The earliest surviving examples of such narrative art is rock art. The historic examples used in the exhibition, such as photographs of rock art, ledger art, and ceramics are meant to link Native American art traditions with contemporary voices.

PoA has a map embedded for anyone in the Southwestern US who can make it.

Oh, and for the record...

I did not miss Mother's Day. I just called her this time instead of posting on the internet.

And now for something awesome.

Remember that Marvel/DC Olympics poll I linked to?

Here's the results:

As for the swimsuit competition, well, I got about 100 different nominations, which would have broke your LJ to have a vote, so I'm gonna declare all you fanboys and fangirls and your dirty minds winners!

Although if we went by nominations, our overall swimsuit champion would be Nightwing, Mr. Dick Grayson himself, who snagged 20 nominations all by himself. Must have been his early green Speedo years.
As far as the girls went, Power Girl got 4, the most nominations for a girl nominee.

I love the Internet some days.

Blogdrama

He actually lasted longer than I expected.

(Found out through some livejournals I follow before I reached his blog in my feeds, actually.)

I don't want to comment on his little blog but because I'm adverse to one-sided stories and this'll be on WFA I just wanted to let everyone know that that postscript was meant for me, and that this was not an offer.  It was a suggested course of action.  Also, that my anger had shit-all to do with feminism and everything to do with military and family history, but if he's whiny enough to assume every disagreement with me is about women he may as well do so.  I was mainly thinking of my grandfather but there were also female veterans of WWII.

Admittedly, I dismissed him as a troll due to his asinine beliefs on rape. There is no excuse for this idiocy.

Anyway, contest: Read through Brett's "Goodbye Cruel Blogosphere" post and see how many logical fallacies you can find.

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I had to be out of my mind thinking I’d soon be over you.

I know this feeling.

Today in the comic book store, on a high from the lovely lovely movie this weekend and curious as to how well this translates to paper I picked up the Invincible Iron Man relaunch. I'd been meaning to investigate the praise this writer's been getting anyway. While I was there I grabbed American Dream and ran my hands over the Marvel trades from all the years I've missed.

This has happened before. I started out as Marvellite, a happy middle-schooler stealing her sister's Generation X comics to read between the pages of her textbooks in study hall. As my sister turned to DC and its imprints. so did I I flirted with the House of Ideas again when Quesada took over and he teased us with Wolverine's origin. In tech school I stayed up late studying Fantastic Four trades in tech school when I should have been studying FAA regulations and hunted through back issue bins in Mississippi looking for ever available appearance of Magneto's children. (I am the only person I know of who read that 90s Quicksilver series with the Knights of Wundagore, and I'd snap up issues to fill the holes in this run in a heartbeat.) I had a fling with Bendis' Daredevil (I was really more interested in Maleev's Daredevil, though) and poked around Avengers Mansion until Wanda moved out.

Between the destruction of my favorite aspects of the 616 universe and the rise of their nightmarish Ultimate counterparts (which I'd found entertaining at first, but which horrified me as time went on) I slowly made my way to a Marvel-free Wednesday. I didn't fuss. I didn't yell. I didn't to my recollection write a long essay on why I was leaving Marvel forever or complain endlessly about the loss of my childhood favorites. I did acquire an anti-Quesada affectation. I dd go off a time or two when the subject of Scarlet Witch came up. But on the whole I just quietly crossed the Marvel books one by one off my checklist over various transgressions until I was down to Spider-Girl, and I wasn't too inclined to talk about her.

Then someone in my feeds blogged about a teenage female Captain America in Spider-Girl's world, getting a miniseries this month. And someone posted this shadowy image online with "The Return" on it, and I found my excitement wasn't dulled by the inevitability. But the kicker was this shiny new movie, which I thought wouldn't get me because I never much cared for Iron Man (he seemed like a stiff), but here I am walking out of the store today with an armful of Marvel trades. 1 Image book, 1 DC trade, 4 Marvel trades, 3 Marvel books (would have been 4 had the one with Quicksilver not sold out). I've no interest in the skrullification beyond it's opportunities to retcon out all of the stuff I disliked. I mainly want to read about the guy in the movie who seems to have ADHD and a 340 IQ, and who shares my love of taking things apart. Also I want to read about Captain America--the one who isn't an asshole.

I roll my eyes when I see the "WHY DO YOU HURT ME DC!!!!" melodramas on the internet, but I find this is just like going back to an old boyfriend. Memories of a summer breeze turning the page on your hardcover, interrogating your friends to find out all the juicy stuff you missed, the familiar musty smell of back issue bins in used bookstores on the outskirts of town... And a heavy dread anchoring your heart because you know why you dropped it all before and you know it'll end in a night of tears and country music but you have this warm sensation in your cheeks when you open the cover and you just can't stop smiling as you turn the pages. It's unsettlingly similar to the time Sean stopped to visit me in San Antonio.

A week or two ago a friend asked me repeatedly why I was so damned reasonable about a particular situation. I supposed I can hold this up to reassure her I'm still a crazy fan at heart. Or at least short of memory and susceptible to hype.

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On the other hand, this is awesome.

Everyone see this idiot commenting on Kalinara's Variations post?

I thought it was the first ever comic that bordered on racism.

Yeah, he's not talking about The Spirit, he's talking about the latest Blue Beetle issue.

And not because they screwed it up, but because they were "forcing" the readers to read Spanish. (GOTI covered this one yesterday.)

At the end of all that xenophobic inanity comes this comment:

Hi, John Rogers, previous writer of BLUE BEETLE here.

Just to point out — this commenter’s problem is even more insane than first appears, because the issue in question ACTUALLY OCCURS IN MEXICO, where our born-in-the-USA teen superhero who is the son of two legal immigrants — one of whom is written to have served his country in the 101st Airborne — has gone to visit his grandmother.

This guy and people like him are one of the reasons comics are dying.

The Internet is a wonderful and miraculous place. We must never forget this.

I am so very angry I can't come up with a rant for this one.

Our newest community troll, discussing Captain America in Kalinara's comments:

Realism for portraying a WWII-era soldier (super or otherwise) is unfortunately being a xenophobic flag hugging bible thumping asshole. They might actually give him some depth that Ultimate Cap lacked, but I think he'll be pretty much right there as far as characterization.

Now I've been on the internet for a few years now, so it's not normal for me to see something that has me literally shaking with rage. You've accomplished quite a feat, Brett.

Congratulations, and FUCK YOU!

Apparent Marvel/DC Olympics Misunderstanding

Marvel/DC Olympics poll on livejournal.

Now, we can clearly see from the first eight matchups that we're only watching the men's events but it seems some misguided fans have nominated women for the final event. And twice as many women as men.

If you have a livejournal account, please go and nominate some men (particularly Marvel men since right now we just have Roy and Kyle on the list) for the swimsuit competition that makes up the final event.

Carnival Notes

PoC in SF Carnival #9: What I Heard about You, And What That Meant For Me at Soaring

Willow's looking for a host for #10, contact her if you're up for it.

The 21st Carnival of Feminist Science Fiction and Fantasy Fans up at Heroine Content

Looking for a host for the 22nd issue. Please contact me if interested.

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Dear DC Comics,

I am writing to inform you of a mistake regarding this week's release of DC Universe 0. DC Universe 0 was released on Wednesday April 30th, 2008. I believe the date you were shooting for was April 1st.

I still commend you on an excellent prank idea. Perhaps next year you might try something with the Waynes.

Sincerely,
A loyal customer.

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Good News, Everybody!

Anna from Tangognat will be joining us at WFA on a regular basis. So we're now a 3-woman team!

Her first post is up.

The Many Loves of John Stewart

Kalinara and I joke endlessly about how John Stewart is only interested in alien women. But from my log of back issues I know this wasn't always true. There was a point in the O'Neill run where Hal was incapacitated and they needed John to take him to Oa. They found him in bed with a black human woman (I can't find the issue, so I don't know her name). I thinks he was meant to be John's first love interest, even though she never appeared again.

Later, when Englehart took over the series and John got activated as the center, he didn't have much of a supporting cast. He was briefly involved with Tawny Young, a black female reporter who spilled his identity on national television. I recall she felt guilty afterwards. The story was just plain annoying, because it retconned a piece of John's character away. In his first appearance he'd thrown the mask away, saying he had no reason to hide. It was one of those actions that establish personality. John was honest and forthright. For that storyline, he had to hide his origins and his name until he was forced to go public.

After that came Katma. The love of his life was an alien woman from Korugar. Katma was assigned as trainer (there seems to be some sort of 1417-2814 exchange program going on in the Corps) after John complained he hadn't been properly trained by his predecessor. The two clicked. Katma made a considerably better trainer than Hal. Hal's one of those people who's very physically-minded, who automatically focuses and concentrates without much thought into the process. A "Just do it like I do" teacher, which works for basics but it incomplete in the end. Katma was more cerebral and trained by explaining how the energy worked.

And in return for teaching him about Lanterning (for lack of a better word), John taught her about human culture. Especially mating rituals.

They were evenly matched, and complimented each other. After Crisis on Infinite Earths they turned into one of those annoying couples who wear matching outfits and are never seen separately.

Katma's death was followed by a focus on Hal and apparently a long dry spell for John until Mosaic. Mosaic was when a Guardian set up a zoo on Oa with populations from planets across the universe. John was the lucky guy who got the job of keeping them from killing each other. The population from Earth contained Rose Hardin, an ex-love interest of Hal's. The relationship with Rose seemed to be mainly about providing a father figure for Rose's son and winning a power struggle with Hal. He turned her over the second something better came along came back to life.

When Kyle took the lead in the mainbook, the end of Mosaic seemed to be soft-retconned away. John resurfaced as a member of the Darkstars. The editorial direction in Green Lantern at the time was something of a "Scorched Oa" policy, and just sending John off to space wasn't enough for them. I haven't read the issue (though it has to be Kyle's fault somehow), but in a fight John was paralyzed from the waist down. He returns to Earth with his brand new girlfriend from the Darkstars, Merayn.

The less said about Merayn the better. She was a pretty blue girl with no substance whatsoever. The relationship consisted of John brooding and her hanging on his shoulder. She didn't seem particularly restless on Earth until John got the use of his legs back. When Kyle left Earth and John got re-activated as the Earth Green Lantern, Merayn left him.

He hasn't had a love interest in the comic books since.

In the JLU TV show, John dated one alien woman (Hawkwoman) and one human woman (Vixen).

There's an interested pattern here. The first two, the girl who got left halfway through the night and Tawney Young, were the only black women John ever dated. Neither were substantial relationships.

Katma and Merayn both seemed to be coded white to me. There might be some argument with Katma being coded differently in the 80s, though.

Rose, a white woman, was the only substantial human relationship John was in and he turned her over for Katma in a heartbeat at the end of Mosaic.

I always wonder about this pattern. John didn't get a proper supporting cast when Engelhart wrote Vol 2 in the 80s. Tawney was introduced like a tailored Lois-Lane-style-love-interest and then established as untrustworthy. Much of the book was still dedicated to following Hal and Carol around while he was active, and the points with John had him interacting with the GLC and Hal's supporting cast.

The next time John took the spotlight in Volume 3 and in Green Lantern: Mosaic, he was surrounded by aliens. The local human settlement was a small town mostly populated by white people.

When Winick was writing Vol 3 a few years ago, and John got the Earth job he was still the supporting cast. Most of the paneltime was on KYLE'S ADVENTURES IN OUTER SPAAACE, John got a single issue (where Merayn left him) and some Meanwhile... paneltime. The rest of his time was spent in the JLA. Not a great place to build a character base and a supporting cast all his own.

I love Katma to death (and to resurrection if anyone at DC is reading), but something is really off about this pattern. It seems like John is uncomfortable with anyone but superheroes and aliens anymore. And while there's been backstory mentioned in narration, no one from his pre-superhero days (living in a majority-black neighborhood in Detroit) has popped up.

Do they worry when John even only half gets the spotlight, that they'd make the book too black if they bring his family in?

Do they think they'll offend people by giving him a black girlfriend? I can see some reader's eyes bugging out at this thought, but I've heard this complaint when a writer creates a love interest of the same race of a hero who's not white, like that because he's [race X] and has a girlfriend who is [race X]. Never comes up when a white hero gets a white love interest, but for some reason a lot of fans are suddenly worried about the lack of interracial couples in comics if the hero isn't white. It's possible the writers and editors think that way.

But then, if John gets a white girlfriend and a white supporting cast, it becomes really obvious they're white-washing him. So John gets alien girlfriends.

Which is pretty depressing.

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A Tale of Two Communities

I've been watching the commotion this week over the preview release of Convention Groping Excuse Version 2056.2.1 with sadistic glee. It does my soul good to watch a slew of outrage-arrows pierce the carefully constructed armor of delusion that covers the bloated ego of the male chauvinist geek.

It was truly a thing of beauty, an act of community like we rarely see in our little fan niche in the internet. A sheltered livejournalist pokes his head into the sunlight on a quiet spring morning and exposes the inner workings of his minds, and is answered by a thousand nerds screaming at him to for god's sake get back in his hole before anyone thinks that the entire community thinks like that.

I know some people feel he's been piled on and roughed up too badly (and even worse--some people think he had a good idea), and I know I may be headed for such a downfall in the future when my writing sins bubble to the surface of the seething cauldron of drama that is the internet, but I have to be proud of this.

See, our community has a lot of problems. When you point out sexism, you get a bunch of trolls screaming "That CAN'T be sexist! It's awesome and people punch things and I liked it and I'm NOT sexist!". When you point out the inconsistencies in same sex relationships or issues when portrayed transgendered individuals you get a bunch of trolls screaming "They CAN'T show that because of the CHILDREN!" When you point out racism, you get a bunch of crickets chirping.

Still, our community doesn't pretend to be perfect. It rarely pretends to be any closer to perfect than it is. And it is, to an extant, self-policing. When someone like The Ferrett stands in a position to confirm all of the worst thoughts about nerds to the mainstream populace, people rise up to put a stop to that.

And it wasn't outsiders who came down on this idea. It was nerds, plain and simple. Nerds of all genders, races, religions, and ability piped up and said "That... doesn't sound right." And while yes, there was a large contingent of Ferretteers defending his stance on the subject, the horrified nerd majority wasn't buying it, and they picked through his blog and put him back in his place at the bottom of the food chain.

Given geekdom's history of sexism, it was a week that made me very proud to be a part of this community.

It is very possible, though, that I was projecting too much pride on my imperfect nerdly home on the net. See, there was another example of community policing, in a larger community, going on this very month.

Now, I'm not sure if you know this reading this blog, but mainstream feminism has a sketchy past with race relations.

No, that's a bad way of putting it. If Feminism was a well, and racial equality was the only process available to purify water, we'd all be drinking sewage.

Admittedly, no one is perfect, but in general most people are willing to admit their shit does indeed stink. But every time someone at the Feminism Well points out that the water smells funny, the rest of the room shouts them down insisting that only the cleanest, clearest water comes from the Well of Feminism, and the idea that it may be polluted is a dirty lie spread by the Patriarchy in an attempt to prevent us from drinking water and hawk their Super-Concentrated Bottled Man-Juice (TM), now with EXTRA Oppression Power!

I have no fucking clue how to stop them from doing that. I only know change through the power of the Mob, and the Mob in the mainstream feminist blogosphere insists that the water's safe to drink.

This has been going on for decades. What tends to happen is there's a falling out between WOC and a major white feminist, the white feminists write history so the falling out never happened, young women find their way into feminism with no knowledge of this history and the same shit happens all over again.

I'd sworn off all of the major political feminist blogs because of varied instances of idiocy, and even gone so far as to tell people on my livejournal I won't respect anyone who has a certain blogger on their blogroll.

Naturally, someone on my livejournal friendslist sends me a post written by that very blogger that sends me into an incoherent spew of rage when I finally sighed and look at it.[Emphasis mine]

When I first heard about the Open Source Boob Project, I was sort of overwhelmed by the dipshittery and couldn’t really begin to tackle the multi-layered asshole levels required to be a part of this thing. (Summary: A bunch of dudes at some comic con decided that it would be awesome to trade on a handful of women’s serious insecurities and get some fondling. Gack, it’s complicated—just read the link.) Now that it’s been thoroughly dismantled by the rest of the feminist blogosphere, I feel like I can safely make fun of the whole thing without feeling like I’m missing something.

The fuck--? The "Feminist Blogosphere" didn't do shit about this. The "Feminist Blogosphere" was too busy trying to ignore the mass walkout of women of color (many of whom were active in letting the world know what a piece of shit idea this Boobie thing was while you guys patted yourselves on the back for being oh so enlightened and relevant to today's society) to deign to notice the shotstorm on livejournal.

There was a little more profanity and frightening of my cat before I started to realize just how stupid I sounded being upset by this.

And I'll be breaking two rules to explain why: 1) My No Politics on Written World rule and 2) My No-linking-to-these-idiots-and-adding-to-their-legitimacy rule.

Because Rule #2 isn't practical. It's not just someone has to call out someone being an idiot. The entire community needs to do so, to make it clear where the line is.

Here's the rundown, before the Ferrett's Incredibly Patronizing Proposal hit livejournal, there was a shitstorm involving a very famous white feminist blogger who cobbled a column on a mainstream website from the insights of a WOC blogger named Brownfemipower (among others)* without so much as a link back (despite the fact that it was known she read that blogger regularly). This was in no way the first time a white feminist has taken credit for ideas and work done by philosophers and activists of color, so it resulted in Brownfemipower closing her blog, a lot of very understandbly pissed-off people walking away from Feminism, and a number of others contemplating it.

Only one major feminist website addressed this. Two weeks later, a blogger on that very same website promoted an upcoming book (from a publisher with skeevy racial issues) from that white feminist blogger. (That turned out to be problematic.)

Kalinara has the scoop of the racism in the book. Interestingly enough, that is comic-related.

Anyway, so here I am irked at her taking something I was quite proud of my own little geek community for, and attributing it to her community.

Which is patheticly small potatoes compared to massive injury aimed at the WOC community, when this very same blogger took credit for the legwork and thinking done by members of their community and presented it as her own insight. Which has been done by the white feminist community for decades.

Its kind of like watching someone rob a convenience store, shoot the clerk, and then being indignant that she stepped on your foot on the way out.

In short, its very spoiled white girl of me.

But there's a point to this beyond my own navel gazing. Two, actually.

One is that this particular person is not salvageable. She's willing to still be intellectually dishonest in small ways, she's going to do so in large ways. I should not worry about her as a fallen role-model, but instead worry that the world associates her with a label I wear.

Two is the importance of community. Yes, these two incidents turned into discussions about individuals and not the larger issues. The thing is, the individuals behavior can only be taken into account with taking the larger issues into account. Calling out these individuals proves that the community at large is willing to try and stop things from getting worse at the very least, by setting boundaries and examples to newer community members. By making people who think along the same lines as those individuals rethink their positions, or at least their willingness to act on those positions. How we treat individuals when they fuck up is what defines what is socially acceptable.

There's a long history of sexism and racism in the geek and nerd community. We are all aware of this, and we work on this. And if something happens that threatens to cause a mass exodus of women from the nerd community, apparently the men in the community are willing to stand up and show that the idiot does not speak for them. They went on the attack. They pushed the individual and those who agreed with him out into the cold for the sake of maintaining a diverse community. This week, the geek community--a community dedicated to leisure and entertainment--proved that it was willing to police itself.

When a white feminist was called on her bullshit, the mainstream members of the community rallied around her and pushed several demographics out into the cold. When tensions had reached the point that it threatened a mass exodus of people from the feminist community, they let it happen. They made it worse. That community sacrificed a whole group of women in order to preserve one (white) individual's ego. Business as usual. This month, the mainstream feminist community--a community supposedly dedicated to bettering society--proved that it was not willing to police itself.

*ETA 27 Apr 08-- From E. in the comments:

But I do have a nitpick: while BFP didn't want to call out Marcotte for plagiarising/appropriating from her, and there are a variety of arguments that can be made for and against the idea that Marcotte bit off BFP, Marcotte admitted that there was a person she should have credited and didn't: Nina Perales. Also, she has yet to give Perales credit.

We can always tell when you haven't read ANY of the linked articles.

On a two and a half year old post:

I don't understand what this website is about... Men are portrayed in the same light as the women are... it is the nature of the "FANTASY" of a comic book. Get over it.

(In case anyone is still confused what sort of comments prompted this.)

Thanks

Birthday's almost over.  I took the day off work and relaxed, and it was really nice.  Thanks for all the happy thoughts, pictures and scans!   :)

Carnival Notes

The POC SF Carnival deadline is April 27th. It'll be on Soaring.

From the original announcement:

The theme, "What I heard about you, and what that meant for me" further addresses the theme of intra-poc/nonwhites relations as touched upon in the PoC in SF Carnival #8. This carnival focuses on the relationships poc and nonwhites have with characters and actors that are of color-nonwhite as well as aliens and magical creatures. The focus will be on science-fiction and fantasy, as well as speculative fiction and all the visual and media arts. Why the visual and other media arts? Because historically, even when the topic wasn't aliens in outer space or magical-and-mysterious creatures, foreigners and strangers decided to call different foreigners and strangers that are poc and nonwhite, aliens. And mysterious. And sometimes magical.

Contact skywardprodigal at gmail dot com.

Also: Both the FSF Carnival and Scientae Carnival come due April 28th.

Under Construction.

Trying out a new look for the site.  Couldn't get the pretty green one I wanted to work with new blogger, but I like this one for now.  Don't mind the disappearing links.

And I hope the non-English stuff doesn't translate to anything rude I wouldn't say.

I may be the last blogger to mention this one, but Dave Campbell is sealing up Dave's Long Box and moving on to bigger and better things.

I can't watch this with a straight face.

(Via)



For an adaptation of a Will Eisner property, it sure looks like a love letter from Frank Miller to Frank Miller, delivered by the fine folks at United Frank Miller's Sin City Parcel Service.

I want this poster.

(Photo taken by James Olsen, at the JLA Enchantment Under the Sea Dance)

It's not just a bunch of cute women lined up in glamourous clothing. The dresses and poses suit the personalities of the characters very well. These women are all dolled up for a formal event, but they still look like superheroes. Wonder Woman and Power Girl are clearly physical powerhouses. Selina seems like a pensive crime queen. Zatanna looks like she just made the Empire State Building disappear. Ivy seems to be rising out of the ground and deciding whether the viewer should live or die.

(Found at Loren's, and I want a version with the men in nice suits too. Superman in a tux, drawn by Adam Hughes. Who wouldn't want that?)

Not exactly Separated at Birth

(With apologies to Bully)

I'll admit right off that with me and Kalinara, this is the opposite of that Star Sapphire Green Lantern cover. I giggled and rolled my eyes at this one and she found it distasteful.

But as a Private Benjamin reference?

The iconic Goldie Hawn image:



Ms. Marvel #29:



Just to drive that home, Goldie Hawn again:




If that's an homage, it's a piss-poor one.

It'd be a funny homage, were it for the cover of say Benjamin's Privates or some similarly themed pornographic take on the movie, but a superhero book?

You know, I never thought that I could respect Greg Horn less as an artist, but the thought that he was intentionally referencing Private Benjamin rather than Army@Love or an actual porn movie... Well, that just digs a new cellar under the Hall of Artistic Shame.

I'm so disgusted I'm impressed, actually.

But I'm sorry, it can't be what he was thinking. I'm almost certain it's a reference to an Army@Love cover, but I can't find it. I've seen that pose before in the annuls of military-themed pornographic images. It's not a Horn original idea. It's not a reference to that movie, either.

Very kind.

The first commenter demonstrates the point of the post.

Tales from the Chatroom

Kalinara... on civics:

You ever notice...There are 9 members of the Supreme Court. And 9 Nazgul?

Mike Choi

On dealing with criticism:

But in public,

1. Do not dismiss the criticism. At least show an attempt to at least see where they might be coming from.
2. Do not become combative or antagonistic. Sarcasm counts.
3. Do not use past works to justify the current work.
4. Do not just say that you're doing your best. Everyone is doing their best.

If you do any of these, prepare for a shitstorm, especially if you do any of these on a message board where you're trying to defend your shit.

Actually if you ARE on a message board trying to defend your shit,

5. Get the fuck out.

Public Service Announcement: The Last Word

(Update at bottom)

Most blogs have a feature that allows people to know when someone has commented on their post.  They can do this by mail, or by a comment feed, or a little message center in the dashboard.

Most people who blog are aware of this, but there's a number of commenters who seem to think that they can pick a 6-month old post and get the last word in on the discussion because the actual conversation part is dead.  Why do think people are doing this to get the last word in and not be noticed by the smart bloggers and commenters?
 
Because the dumbest fucking comments are made when the thread has been dead for 6 months or more.

Rarely do I ever get anything positive or intelligent when the post has been dead that long.  I'm not sure why anyone bothers doing so, maybe they link it to their friends and show how they "pwned" the original poster, maybe its so that future web nomads will leave the discussion with the impression that no one could argue against the last commenter's "brilliant" point.  Whatever the motive, it doesn't work and it looks rather stupid.

It reminds me of this guy.



Now, this guy is Internet-Famous for standing behind a bunch of people with a sign and making them look foolish.  The first time I saw it, a colleague at work had emailed it out with the words "The guy in the back is my hero."

I admit to chuckling when I first saw it.  It's amusing as it is.

Thing is, he's standing behind all of the women in the photo.  I'd hardly describe that as a feat of courage.  Judging from what I know about human beings, he probably hid the sign whenever any of the women turned around.  Not exactly a hero.

Granted, the thought of him shitting his pants, running for the hills, or being duct-taped to a pine tree once that group of protesters noticed him is pretty funny.  But it makes the overall stunt more an anecdote of amateur clownishness than the brave act of counter-culture rebellion I suspect the gentlemen was going for.  And certainly not the heroic moment of comedy its held up as.

I supposed my point is that's there's something especially disgusting in cowardice.  I mean, it's one thing to be an unrepentant asshole and get surrounded with hatred and banned from message boards and blogs and such for your rudeness and it's one thing to merely be stupid and outmatched in every argument you set foot in.

But to be stupid and/or rude and know you'll be hatred, banned, or outmatched and then go out of your way to avoid it but still look like a badass little rebel who gets the last word?  That's pretty low, even for a fucking troll.





I suppose what I'm saying, to translate to the language of misogynistic assholes, is "Good god, grow a pair".



Update: Look what I got in the mail today, as if the universe wished to remind me of this post and prove my point.



I'm giving you a screencap of the email rather than just linking the comment because the comments don't have dates. And the date to this comment is so very important to me.



These two comments were left two years, one month, and five days after this post was originally posted. It's like the universe is validating my opinions.

This guy might actually be a very brilliant comedian who was hoping there'd be a date stamp on the comment. If not, well, he's like a birthday present. A really late birthday present. I mean, I'm still not impressed with his idiot friend, or likely to click on his idiot link, but this may be the best comment I've ever gotten. Thank you, Bob.

For the record, there's some sort of radio recording supporting his story. So he's a truthful, late, probably cowardly (or just obsessive or stupid), asshole troll. I really don't care, though, because this is an old post and he started out with calling me names. Now, to be fair, I called the guy with the sign an asshole but the man is demonstrably an asshole and it doesn't matter that he's not as big a coward as I thought or he's a paid plant or what-have-you. I can upgrade him to the level of timely asshole troll willing to get into an argument for attention, which isn't exactly a brave, intelligent, or respectable person. So I fail to see how this is defending him exactly. Bob is being abusive on a two-year old post. So I'll be publishing the abusive comment, but not the followup comment with the link because I am a bitch.

The Further AIM Adventures of Ragnell and Kalinara... in INNER SPAAAACE!!

Ragnell: It's vitally important that we wear the GL costumes on the day I finally snap.
Ragnell: So I can introduce myself to the gathering crowd as Hayley Jordan and point to you as my associate Gal Gardner.
Kalinara: I'll look appropriately menacing.

(I know one of you is typing a comment asking what led to this part of the conversation. Stop it. You really don't want to know this one.)

Feminist SF/F Carnival 21 1/2

Honorable Denizens of Cyberspace! As your wayward Carnival Organizer, I humbly beg your forgiveness! I would have a long in-depth excuse as to why we have had such a long hiatus between carnivals, but it ultimately comes down to my neglecting my bloggerly duties in favor of icky RL responsibilities, and no one wants to hear the details of that. Sadly until such time as I learn to sustain my body purely on force of will or am able to download my consciousness directly into the blogosphere I'll have to deal with the hassles and distractions of meatspace.

But never lose your faith, feminist fans of the fantastic, for I have returned with a volunteer to host the next edition!

I'm sure you all remember Skye, who is solid, liquid, and gaseous awesome.

So without further ado, the skinny on the 21st Edition:
Where: Heroine Content
When: May 1st
How Long Until Submissions Close: Until April 28th
Who: skyekilaen[AT]gmail[DOT]com or submission form
What: Suggested theme is "Who Do You Love?" but all posts relevant to gender issues in speculative fiction will be gladly considered.

As our last edition was way back in February, the upcoming edition will accept submissions reaching back to February 7th.

And *ahem* I still need a host for the 22nd. Contact me if you're up for it.

--Crossposted to Feminist SF Carnival Blog.--

(Those of you who don't know what the fuck this is about would be advised to read this.)

DAMN YOU WINICK!!!

I'm not going to go into details, but today Judd Winick caused a mild amount of strife between myself and Kalinara.

We settled it peacefully, mind you, but this very rarely happens.  I blame Judd Winick for it, and mark my words... I shall have my revenge.

In all seriousness, we do need a bet settled.  Riddle me this, dearest readers: Who would be more comfortable in a gay nightclub in the late 90s, Wildcat Ted Grant or Flash Jay Garrick?

Show your work.

I made something pretty!

Horrified that the next Star Sapphire figure is going to be in that hideous costume, I searched about online and found the classic Star Sapphire action figure (which had ugly earrings, but those were a lot easier to cut off and paint over than fixing that dreadful costume).

When I took her out of the box the other night, I realized she was the same size as my Parallax/Hal figure.  Then I noticed that one of her hands was outstretched, with the fingers spread like she was reaching for someone.  And one of Hal's hands was open so that it could hold something, and that it fit perfectly to Carol's wrist.




About that time "Written in the Stars" from the Aida cast album hit my playlist. I got inspired.

I had to make a shadowbox. After testing out about five different background ideas, I settled on a picture from an old calender. For some reason, during the entire process my playlist was queuing up love songs. when I finally finished the whole thing (which involved searching for pieces from the base, and a lot more time that I thought it would) I was listening to a cover of "I Want You to Want Me."

Weird. Anyway, pictures:



And for some reason I'm fond of this one that didn't come out very well. It's kind of spooky and cool.


What do you think? Are they not just made for each other?

This is important.

If people who are trying never get criticized because "Hey, at least they're trying," then all anyone will do is the bare minimum.  The only way to make things better is to keep at it.  Keep making things better, correct false steps.  Criticism is necessary, otherwise people won't know when they put their foot in it and they'll just continue to put their foot in it.

That Furry Bastard.

So much for tonight's plans.