i'm on a roll. i cranked out that paper last night and in the words of america's next top model's jay manuel, i was "working it like the rent was due" <-- i have only a hazy idea of what this actually means. i celebrated by going on an essay-high fueled orgiastic excess of a feeding frenzy, meaning i ate a giant piece of the leftover birthday cake and some pepperoni sticks in bed, watching the last few episodes of "buffy the vampire slayer, season 6" <-- happiness i accidentally caught a little peek at the tyra banks show yesterday afternoon. in the words of the boy, "she parodies black people the way white people parody black people" *stage whisper* awkward. yikes. we also caught a little bit of the ellen show, which is beyond awkward. she does this stupid dance, and then the audience starts dancing, and they were dancing to tupac, and that whole scenario in reality is as wrong as the semantic combination of those words are on (cyber) paper. holy crap. afternoon talk shows are the refuge of the (middle class) damned.
you can't talk about afternoon talk shows without talking about the big O. i actually actively despise oprah. i hate the way she preaches and forces people to agree with her, and i hate the crazed gleam in the eyes of her drooling, sycophantic audience. the major disagreements i have with the roomie tend to centre around oprah, and how the roomie likes pam on the US version of "the office". it actually drives me semi-bonkers, and the two issues are surprisingly similar. my argument against pam is that she's a dud: she's meek, she's too polite, she's passive aggressive (one of my most loathed attributes), she's unambitious, and she lets people walk all over her. the roomie defends pam because she "grew up in a small town, just ended up with her high school sweetheart, and has never known anything better" this to me is an extremely patronizing position, compounded and exacerbated when the roomie says something along the lines of "i just think there's a lot of women who are like that, etc etc" to me, this fixes women into the kind of weak, passive, non-aggressive subject-position, that allows oprah to come in and "treat" them with a panel of experts as her rallying forces.
another example is this book that oprah's been flogging called "the secret". now, i haven't read it, but from what i understand (based on cursory research on oprah's website, and a particularly funny SNL skit skewering the "secret" featuring amy poehler), this is what it's about in a nutshell: "the principle explains that we create our own circumstances by the choices we make in life. And the choices we make are fueled by our thoughts—which means our thoughts are the most powerful things we have here on earth." (from oprah's website, in the words of the author).
now, i think this is a load of horses**t. the fact that people need a book to tell them this is a sad reflection on our society's tendency to pander to mediocrity (imo). the roomie defends this book (which she was going to read with her mum, and report back on to me), by saying that some people need creative visualization and books to tell them to be more assertive, and to ask for that raise, and to demand to be treated well in a relationship.
to me, if you need a book to tell you that, you've got problems beyond what "the secret" can fix. furthermore, it infantilizes the general population, and following the work of Foucault, "creates" a problem to be "treated" through the disciplinary power apparatus. therefore, the weak, and (largely feminine-associated) subject-position gets reified through repeated articulations (ie. when the roomie says that "a lot of women have the tendency to be ___").
i have a huge problem with discourses that say "women tend to be more passive". oh really? and why is that?!? for example, i had a conversation with a girl once, who was talking about going on a date with a boy, and the boy asked for her number, and never called. now, the girl didn't mind that the boy didn't call, but was more perplexed by why he would ask for her number if he wasn't planning on calling in the first place. so i asked, "why didn't you ask him if he was just asking for your number to be polite, or if he was really going to call?" to which the girl replied, "because that would make me seem like a bitch". which i think is B.U.N.K. for a variety of reasons to be itemized as follows:
a) we should deconstruct the use of the word "bitch". in this scenario, being upfront, honest, and calling people out on their b.s. = bitch. that to me is WACK and is the principle problem in this scenario.
b) what's wrong with being a bitch?!
c) why do people care so much about what perfect strangers (and yes, by "perfect strangers" i mean larry appleton and balki bartokomous) think of them?!? this is always something that will confound me.
d) the exchange i've outlined above doesn't even have to be played in an a**hole-y kind of way, there are many ways that you could intone that conversation in which the dude doesn't come out feeling pwned.
i also get my hackles up when people tell me, "well most girls aren't like you". that's bullcrap.
anyway, that's my marginally-feminist based rant for the day. and i shouldn't have to say it here, but i LOVE the roomie, she's really smart and self-aware, and we psychoanalyze each other to equal degrees.
so apparently last night's "pork stroganoff, with egg noodles, and the infamous olive garden salad on the side" actually meant "popeye's 3 piece, dark meat, spicy fried chicken delivery". haha! something about the end of school rush tends to mean that i get lazy with the cooking and procrastinate by eating my face out (the same thing happened during the leading up to the xxx-mas holidays rush). in my fried-chicken-skin fervor, i somehow manage to conflate popeye's use of halal meat, to some semblance of "healthiness". i also made an important, popeye's related discovery. popeye's still sells fried turnover-type pies. like the way mcdonald's apple pies used to be before they switched over to the infinitely less enjoyable "baked" version. this is HUGE, people.
today i'm gone for a long time today. i don't know what i'm going to eat. the same cooking/packing lunch laziness in me is calling out for street meat. i don't know if i'm actually going to heed that siren's song.