WTF. Seriously, What?

From Shakespeare's Sister:

$45,000: The amount of money the Supreme Court has agreed, by virtue of declining to hear an appeal of the lower court's decision, that the cheerleader forced to cheer for her rapist must pay in restitution to the school district for filing a "frivolous" lawsuit against it.


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Puppy Love

I have Scout the puppy on the brain.

All day, conversations about the SCOTUS decision on marriage equality sounded like "Scout's decision." (Scout is a big advocate of unconditional and unrestrained love.)

Also, I realized today that a few weeks ago I posted a link to an article on Scott Prouty, the Romney 47% videographer (awesome transcript at Shakespeare's Sister), and referred to him as SCOUT Prouty. (I hope Scott won't mind--he shouldn't; Scout doesn't hate anyone, especially people who work hard--you should see how hard he wags his stubby little tail in the video.)

The thing is, we don't even get to meet Scout for two more weeks. (At likes to point out that I have a major case of Internet-fueled love for my surrogate-birthed puppy baby.)

Pictures!

Scout doing his best impression of a potato (at two weeks):

And such a serious fellow today (six weeks):

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Anti Choice WTF

This "pro-life"trailer by NJ senate hopeful Kenneth del Vecchio (found via Shakespeare's Sister) is scary--like horror movie scary. According to the press release:  "The controversial premise of The Life Zone: three women have been kidnapped from abortion clinics and are being held for seven months—until they all give birth. The film, which appears to cut right down the middle, examining the topic from both sides, offers a powerful, anti-abortion climactic twist." 


I have to say that when I hear about young girls kidnapped and forced to bear their rapists' babies, the forced and solitary birth freaks me out more than anything else. As someone who once ran away from a wisdom tooth extraction because the dentist's delivery of the obligatory sermon about pain went on too graphically, the defining slogan of my pregnancies would be "no epidural, no baby." So being held prisoner and physically being forced to give birth is a way too scary--and is an ironic acknowledgement of how anti-choice fuckery merely masquerades as piety.


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Schooled

I was just browsing Shakespeare's Sister on a break and literally had my life interpreted for me.

In an article about high-heels, Melissa McEwan explains that for fat women, heels (which have been criticized by some feminists as a form of self harm) may seem a necessary defense:

Fat women have all kinds of narratives about sloppiness, laziness, dirtiness to overcome. Sometimes heels are a crucial part of looking "put together" in a way that sufficiently convinces people that we care about ourselves, that manages to counteract pervasive cultural narratives that fat people don't care about ourselves… I get treated completely differently at a $20 hair salon if I'm dressed up or dressed down. Two totally different experiences. I get treated differently at the doctor's office, and at the emergency room. I can't go to the ER in sweatpants, because I'll get shittier treatment. In an emergency, I have to worry if I am dressed up enough to prove that I deserve respect and care.

All round horrible. Points I completely empathize with without having experienced them myself. (Or so I think.)

And then the part that changes the way I count my life. Melissa McEwan continues:
I am speaking to my own experience here, but many women with other marginalized bodies have the same experience. Women of color, trans* women, women with disabilities, and other marginalized classes of women may strongly relate to the idea of having to be "put together" in order to be treated as human beings.
That would totally explain why after years of dressing in jeans and homespun tunics and putting a lot of thought into looking like I didn't care how I looked in India, I've become--after years of living in the West--consumed by fashion. Because looking like a vagabond* is cute only if people know that you're playing and know you're not really one.

*(as the nuns at my private school may have said)

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Take that, Goldieblox!

Read this article at Shakespeare's Sister if you want a respectful, comprehensive read about why Goldieblox is more of the same old in new pinkified packaging. The comments are wonderful too!

And in that spirit, here's something the kids 6 (F) and 14 (M) made this morning.

At (L); Nu (R)

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