Friday, December 18, 2009

Help Wanted: When The Princess Bride Is Just Too Gritty

(aka, Not All My Posts Are About Rape)

I was on vacation with the folks in Miami last month, and the weather wasn't great so we were stuck inside a bit, and my dad was working for half of it, so my mom and I got a little bored at times. One afternoon we ended up watching No Reservations, the romantic comedy with Catherine Zeta-Jones, Aaron Eckhart, and Abigail Breslin. While it might seem like it follows the recently popular, woeful rom com trope of bringing a career woman to her knees, upon viewing one learns that this is NOT the case. More on this later, the point is:

I wanted to make a list, in its honor, of romantic comedies I actually like--movies for when I don't want to think, but don't want my intelligence insulted. The problem is, this list is very short at the moment. So, dear readers:

Any suggestions?

PLEASE suggest. But don't say Love, Actually, I hate that movie. (More on that later, too.)

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Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Update To Previous Post

I've updated the post below, but just so everyone knows about it I'm pasting it in here, too:


I've also just learned that there's been an ad on TV and in the cinemas. (I don't own a TV in London, and I rarely go to the movies, so I had no idea.)



This is still shocking, but for some reason it seems more successful to me--as in, it doesn't make me angry at the advert itself. Perhaps it's because it's depicting an actual assault, rather than co-opting the language of assault; because the imagery is more tasteful, while still very truthful; and because there's the perpetrator is also represented, instead of just the victim. It also seems to me that the TV ad shows how normal the situation can seem--sympathizing with the victim for not thinking about the risks--while the print ad treated me like a moron who'd have no one but herself to blame. Even the tagline in the TV ad-- "Know what you're getting into"--is better than the text of the print ad, because it focuses on informing us, addressing us as intelligent adults who have a right to know what risks are out there. It's unflinchingly honest, but it's not bullying.

Apparently there's been an annual ad campaign in London to dissuade women from taking unbooked minicabs, and it's been very successful--80% fewer women now do so, and, over the past six years, minicab assaults have halved. So you tell me--am I splitting hairs here? Are the two ads essentially the same, and I should focus on the results?


Tfl 'Know what you're getting into' advert [U Talk Marketing]

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Raping Your Audience

Below, some camera-phone photos from an "advert" in the London underground:





If you can't read the text at the bottom, it says, "Whether you approach the driver, or they approach you, there's no record of the journey and you're putting yourself in danger. Text CAB to 60835 and we'll use GPS" to text your three nearest cab numbers."

If you can't tell from the photo, the woman is crying.

Now, Cab Finder is great, and I've used it on several occasions--because I agree with the ad that taking an unlicensed cab off the street is dangerous. (You either use black cabs, which are really expensive, or you call a "minicab" company, which dispatches drivers in regular cars, etc.) But this ad is upsetting on multiple levels.

The first is the most obvious, and also the most difficult to articulate, because it deals with a visceral, emotional reaction. I know that the ad is aiming for a visceral reaction, but the result was that I felt like the ad was trying to assault me. It almost seems to be mocking rape victims, and--though this is obviously not the intent--relishing the hypothetical violence being inflicted. Echoing the protestations of a rape victim in order to tell us, the viewers, to do something, is very hostile. It's attempting to scare us the same way a rapist would. It's saying, If you take an unbooked minicab, you will be raped, and this is what you will look like while it's happening, and this is what you will say in a futile attempt to stop it, and it will be your own fault for ignoring our warnings. Showing the victim rather than the perpetrator* puts the situation squarely and undeniably on the victim's shoulders. I don't know if that even fully explains my emotional reaction--perhaps you guys have something to add in the comments.

But perhaps more disturbingly is how laughably beside the point this message is given recent events IN LONDON. About a year ago John Worboys, a driver of a BLACK cab, was convicted of raping some of his passengers--and based on reports, he most likely raped HUNDREDS of women. The police arrested him in 2007, but ignored important toxicology test results and neglected to search his home or cab.** They released him, and he went on to commit at least 30 more assaults. To Scotland Yard's credit, they have referred their own investigation to the Independent Police Complaints Commission (IPCC)--something they do very rarely indeed.

My point is: instead of trying to terrify women into not using minicabs--not warn, but terrify--the city of London needs to take responsibility for its own failings. England has the lowest rape conviction rate in Europe--at 5.7%, it's even worse than America's 13%. (I can't find what the arrest rates are.)***

The fact is that, in England, rape is all but legal. Remember, that 5.7% isn't of all rapists--it's of all the REPORTED rapes in which an ARREST is made and then actually go to TRIAL. Reported rapes in England are estimated at 10% of actual rapes--which isn't surprising, considering how traumatic and futile the reporting and prosecution of a rape can be--the arrest rate is presumably less than 100%, and many cases are dismissed even before going to trial.**** So it seems fairly pointless to shove down my throat that I'm creating rapes if I take an unbooked cab, when the entire legal culture says that rapists will go unpunished.

I know, I know: it's not necessarily victim-blaming to advise women on safety. I can tell you that it's dangerous to leave your drink unattended without blaming the women who were victimized that way*****. And 'minicab rape' happens. But the way those ads treat their audience--not as rational human beings who would respond to a warning, but as irrational girls who for their own good must empathetically experience actual rape--really pisses me off.


UPDATE: I've also just learned that there's been an ad on TV and in the cinemas. (I don't own a TV in London, and I rarely go to the movies, so I had no idea.)



This is still shocking, but for some reason it seems more successful to me--as in, it doesn't make me angry at the advert itself. Perhaps it's because it's depicting an actual assault, rather than co-opting the language of assault; because the imagery is more tasteful, while still very truthful; and because there's the perpetrator is also represented, instead of just the victim. It also seems to me that the TV ad shows how normal the situation can seem--sympathizing with the victim for not thinking about the risks--while the print ad treated me like a moron who'd have no one but herself to blame. Even the tagline in the TV ad-- "Know what you're getting into"--is better than the text of the print ad, because it focuses on informing us, addressing us as intelligent adults who have a right to know what risks are out there. It's unflinchingly honest, but it's not bullying.

Apparently there's been an annual ad campaign in London to dissuade women from taking unbooked minicabs, and it's been very successful--80% fewer women now do so, and, over the past six years, minicab assaults have halved. So you tell me--am I splitting hairs here? Are the two ads essentially the same, and I should focus on the results?


*Though I shudder to think how they might depict a generic rapist.
**I also remember reading at the time that police had ignored the earliest reports from victims, simply not believing them, but I can't find corroboration of this now.
***If you're interested about America's rape arrest rates, it's 25% nationally...and 70% in New York, so yay NYPD! I credit Benson and Stabler.
****Consider the legality of rape in America: according to RAINN, only 6% of actual rapists spend any time in jail. They have the most encouraging statistics I've seen on reporting, arrest, and prosecution rates, so by some counts 6% might be generous. And remember, this is a national average--for every place like NYC that's doing better, there's someplace doing much, much worse.
*****Though, for the record, recent studies show that this kind of rape is actually pretty uncommon.

Black cab rapist: serial sex attacker John Worboys jailed indefinitely[The Telegraph]
The Rape Conviction Rate In Britain Is Pathetically Low<[Jezebel]
Project Sapphire staying safe[Metropolitan Police]
Tfl 'Know what you're getting into' advert [U Talk Marketing]
Rape in America: Justice Denied [CBS News]
Reporting Rates[RAINN]
The Date Rape Drug Is An Urban Myth. Let's Put It To Rest. [The Sexist]

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Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Technical Difficulties

...with my life rather than with this blog.

I learned on Monday that I am in fact NOT eligible for a post-study work visa, or indeed any visa at all. Medium-length boring annoying story. Anyway, I have to return to the States post-haste. The return is a good thing; the required haste is kind of traumatic.

So, I haven't forgotten you, dear readers, and in the next few days I will post again. I have two or three posts half-formed in my head, but writing them will need time and brain cells I cannot at the moment spare.

In other news: Happy Hanukkah!*


*Normally I prefer a C-h beginning, but for this phrasing I like it when the Hs match. If that's something you'd like to ponder further:


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Friday, December 4, 2009

Why It's Been So Long

A year is a long time to be silent. Essentially, I told you all I was going out for a pack of cigarettes, and never came back*. So...why?

The reasons I left off blogging have a lot to do with the reasons I started in the first place. So let's deal with that:

When I moved back to New York there was a bit of a culture shock when I realized that, outside the bubbles of small liberal arts colleges and tight-knit regional theatre communities, not every nice, smart person had the exact same outlook on feminism and gender roles as I. Yeah, you heard me right: that came as a shock. To me it had always been Dumb Sexists versus Smart Feminists, end of story. But, we grow up. We discover that color called grey, we learn that the word "spectrum" applies to more things than rainbows and sexual identity. This blog was a good way to explain and exemplify my principles to the new people in my life, and to express my various frustrations with the world. I had also become sexually active again after a two-year period of abstinence**, which really brought sex into focus for me, making it an important part of my life and, I found, a rich field for exploration and analysis. And my friends seemed to like reading about all that, so, bully for me.

Oh, and also there was this little election going on, during which the subject of gender arose once or twice. You probably wouldn't remember.

Then I moved to London. To a drama grad school. I knew exclusively artists, who do not, for example, give a fuck how many people I sleep with. There were more women on my program than men (though at 3-to-2 it wasn't what you'd call statistically significant). The election was over, my friends and readers were far away, and for various reasons I didn't feel like writing about sex anymore***. I was very busy, and not feeling particularly oppressed. And things petered out.

So why now? Excellent question class. The reasons are, as I said, not entirely different this time around. As I've gotten to know the people around me a bit better, I've repeatedly been shocked by the clashes in worldview--perhaps even more so than before. I'll get into this more in further posts, but the main thing is that I myself am having to think about these things from new angles, because some of my basic assumptions aren't shared. All of which is starting to sound a bit histrionic--I'm in ENGLAND after all, not the uncharted Amazon Rainforest. But perhaps that's whence the shock.

So, here I am, once again trying to work out how I feel about the world, about myself, about the constant negotiations between the two. Please enjoy.



*Particularly deceitful as I don't smoke.
**The first half intentional, the second half not so much. I think I just got rusty after a year off.
***Fodder for another post.


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Guest Posts! Also, Any Posts!

Hello all.

It's been a year. Hopefully some of you still have this on your blog roll and are thus reading this. Welcome back!

Prodding me into reviving this blog is the wonderful "M. Goldman"--an incredibly smart and cool feminist dude who has (re)started us off with the guest post below. Hopefully I, in turn, will be able to prod him into writing more for us in the future.

More soon. I promise.

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toads and gender: guest post

In November, as I have brought to the attention of everyone I have talked to in the past month, I adopted a toad. I am just pleased as punch about this. She is a lovely toad, though understandably a little skittish. I think she needs a little more living space, and maybe a rock to burrow under and a bit of hollow log to hide in. I am doing my best to help acclimate her to her living space.

One funny thing I have noticed about toad ownership is the way people perceive toad gender. If I refer to a toad as “he,” the conversation continues as normal. If, as in the case of Jhumpa Lahiri (my toad), I refer to the toad as “she,” almost universally the response will be:

“You can tell if it’s male or female?”

Now, I have no idea how to tell the sex of bufo americanus. I bet, if I checked around, it wouldn’t be too difficult to find the answer to this question. For now, and for the foreseeable future, I have no real intention to do so. First of all, I have given this toad a human name. To the best of my knowledge, and even to the best of my conception of the natural world, frogs and toads do not, when left to their own devices, have human names. “She,” to the best of my perception, is not aware she has a human name. I project a personality on my toad. Frogs and toads, and nearly the entirety of life on our planet (and presumably the universe) do not have personalities. Central to this word is its root, “person,” and at the risk of being tautological in order to drive home a point, personality implies personhood. I don’t mean to tear down the idea that animals can have emotion, expression, abstract thought, and even dignity, because I accept that they can, and even assign these to pets I have had and known. But these are not people. Isn’t it arrogant to hold the primacy of human beings so firmly as to assume that our perception of the world is the only one? I love meerkats; I hate the show Meerkat Manor, the one where Sean Astin prattles on and on about how one animal is feeling about missing a meal, or how one is unrequited in her love for another. These are human emotions you are presenting as fact, or worse: as science! At best, I have to imagine the “personalities” we project on the animals around us are imperfect metaphors. So please don’t try to contradict the narrative I have chosen for my toad, because her life is completely unaffected by the social construct of gender.

And speaking of this construct, what is it about frogs and toads that lead people to assume they are male? Questions over gender only arise when the gender presented is female. Yes, the sex of an amphibian would be an interesting discussion I’m sure. But if you were really asking after sex, you would question my assumption of masculinity as well. You’re questioning my gendering of the toad, which you had already determined in your head the other way when you heard the word. I discussed this earlier today with my friends Chris and Sam, and came up with a short list of assumed genders in our society:

dogs: male
cats: female
cars/transportation: female
hurricanes: female (traditionally; this persists even though half of hurricanes now have male names)
fish: male
whales: female (“thar she blows!”)
bears: male
peacocks: female (ironic, since the sex is in its name)
eagles: male
trees: male
flowers: female
oceans: female
mountains: male
anything that could be described as “a beauty:” female
anything that could be described as “ornery:” male

I know I’m missing a bunch here. Hooray for gender roles!

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