Puck Fatriarchy: Shirtless Blogging On A Friday Night (Evolve Or Die)

Am I still materialist if the proceeds of this purchase

helped marine life? Yes. I am.

Thesis

Too often this space is used to write masturbatory music criticism and chicken soup for the geek soul. This happens because it's fun to do that. This post will probably even include a little of both.

But let's get real, fam.

RADICAL

The following sort of thinking was probably bound to happen after talking about all the wrongs in the world over dinner and then staying in to read for History Of Feminist Theory instead of partying. I'm just feeling totally helpless and totally empowered at the same time.

After a positively-charged and exciting class discussion (led by none other than myself and my group) about the politics of experience, feminism to me feels more critical than ever. So I still can't understand why my friends widely champion and embrace vegetarian and green lifestyles, but mostly dismiss (my) feminism. It's not as hurtful as it is perplexing. I'm no stranger to having my identities challenged - I tend to get off on it - and getting behind feminism is no burden. It's a joy.

Blame it on my ego. After proudly brandishing both Catholicism and flaming geekiness through high school, I'm perhaps well-readied to defend feminism. Then again, I've kept it to myself more than I'd like. Wary of being obnoxiously vocal about or even defined by views I don't fully understand, I tend not to bring up the subject. Even so, it seems impossible for me to unlearn the humbling realities of patriarchal sexist oppression in contemporary society, or to remain silent about them. If I hear you say something "problematic," you'll probably hear me say something "obnoxious."

Self-righteous, right? I'm in that kind of mood. Really though, I'm not that hard to eat lunch with.

What do I do?

Trending right now on Twitter is #notetofemales. Seriously, fam? This is what I'm talking about (by the way, the #tagged tweets are decidedly not feminist).

In our world of so-called New Media, it seems both all-too-possible and entirely impossible to subvert heteronormativity. What is one voice shouting in a void against a million voices shouting in a void? None of it is really audible anyway, right?

I was discussing the feasibility of campus activism with a good friend (set up a table outside Ballantine? distribute t-shirts? viral pamphleting?), and got pretty bummed out. Even if I biked around in a dress while shouting cryptic revolutionary speech, I don't think I'd make it to the front page of the student newspaper. I just want to spread the word. Or make G101 required for graduation. The idea of a feminist political coalition seems so crucial, and yet I can't realistically envision something like that emerging on our campus. Maybe I'm not looking in the right places.

This isn't 21st-Century Kid as apathetic, it's 21st-Century Kid as down and out.

Even so, I think there's hope (for me: because I'm a selfish blogger).

A Dream

I just thought about a future for myself as a high school English teacher (that all-powerful of positions) who holds Gender Studies Club every Wednesday after school. Or infuses all sorts of subliminal and subversive feminist theory into his syllabus. Or empowers the oppressed voices in his classroom. Just thinking about it is putting a smile on my face. In fact, it's the first time in a while that I've felt at all excited about my seemingly inevitable career as an educator.

I can create a space for constructive (and deconstructive) discussion. A real community! A classroom as great as this blog! O gosh.

What's your dream?

Barnooks

I didn't want to do this here, but it's really hard for me not to mention how totally head-over-heels in love I am with Neon Genesis Evangelion. It's a borderline obsession at this point. How had I not heard about it until a month ago?

It's a cartoon about big robots and busty babes. Sounds pretty juvenile and pretty problematic. But the sort of ridiculous balance it strikes between awkward sexual humor and incredible characterization is a part of the show's charm. And obviously, NGE is about much, much more than that. The show has the wisdom and confidence to balance shameless spectacle with an existential narrative. I've never seen anything quite like it. I've never seen a show so willing to empower its female characters and then reduce them to sexual objects. I've never seen a show so willing to aestheticize violence and then examine the psychological trauma behind the destruction. I've never seen a show so able to alter its tone and structure and focus without compromising its thematic and narrative strength. It's simply revelatory.

Even the dang re-cap episode paused for an expressionist poem and then revealed an entirely new level of the plot. It's Perfect.

Well. Maybe it's time to go to bed.

Conclusions

Staying in on a Friday night isn't the worst thing that's happened to me. In fact, it's accounted for a 180 in my mood (even if the initial 180 was caused by staying in on a Friday). Anyway, March wasn't a big blogging month for #METASWAG, and I plan on making up for it in April. I have a lot of concerts, a lot of records, a lot of stresses, and a lot of events to ramble on about.

Take your time and do whatever you want, fam.

This song got me through a hellish week.

Triple Homicide, Bad Chinese Food

OMG THE HOBBIT IS ACTUALLY FILMING

Thesis

When you're so spring break mentality that you procrastinate writing a blog, you should probably just turn in for the night. Anyway, I won't be testing this thesis tonight - I'm just gonna soldier on through and churn out some based blogging. So, let's roll with this one.

Spring break is over (boo) and the second half of the second semester has begun (boo). Luckily, the second half of the second semester is actually shorter than the first half, and as an added bonus the entire month of April is so crowded with concerts that I won't have time to complain about papers and finals. I'll just be complaining about headbanging-induced neck cramps.

I can deal with that, fam. I can even blog about that.

But first, let's blog about spring break, or:

SBMMXI

That's right y'all, Spring Break 2011! Unfortunately, I didn't have a camera with me. That means no beach bod pics. No fancy dinner pics. No airplane window pics. No sunset pics!

Instead, I'll provide a rough sketch of my break:

FRI 3/11 thru SUN 3/13

> Screenprinting with Drew: paper-writing for Bioanth: working at DQ: chilling with Andy: packing: catching up on sleep

MON 3/14

> Catch a plane: fly to Berkeley, California: reunite with Ros: Skype Elaine with Ros: eat fabulous fajitas courtesy Alicia: catch some swag ice cream cookie sandwiches with Josephine: jetlag

TUES 3/15

> Solo campaign to Cafe Med for grilled cheese and hot cider: re-reunite with Ros: bro-out and read Cosmo and be best friends: catch some fly Thai with Josephine & Jenna: watch The Bachelor finale with Josephine

WEDS 3/16

> Buy some swag kicks: eat horrible Chinese food: head to San Francisco: investigate hip bookstore: hit up Chinatown for gifts: explore North Beach: catch hefty sandwiches with hella bros: watch The Real World with Carolyn: watch The Woodie Awards without her

THURS 3/17

> Early morning farewells: much reading of The Sound Of The Mountain: return voyage home courtesy of Padre: sleep

FRI 3/18 thru SUN 3/20

> S'all blurred out, fam: some sleep: reunion with the GF: nap mentality: dread of schoolwork: dedication to eating food whenever

I can't really capture the exact good vibes of the Golden Coast, but needless to say, it's undeniable. Final Thoughts: Rain is okay if it's in California, because it'll still be warm. Cities are especially cool when they're carved into hillsides. There's nothing like a great friend. Riding Bay Area Rapid Transit might be the best thing you can do.

Now that I've done that conventional thing and talked about my spring break as if this were some dumb Facebook album, I'm going to get into some real stuff.

IS IT ALT??

Watching the MTVu Woodie Awards was an all-together weird experience. For one, it was hosted by this guy. For two, these horrible adverts for Sun Drop kept playing. For three, the show was like a self-parody of corporate understanding of "the youth."

Not that anyone expected MTV to capture the hipster zeitgeist. It just makes me wonder what the point of the Woodie Awards was. Was it a cash grab? Was it an attempt to hype MTVu? Was it a failed experiment? They obviously do not need to cater to hipsters. The network is doing fine with JShore and Skins. They have the VMAs. All of that. MTV is embraced by a huge viewership, including me. They don't need this weird event.

So why try the "Indie Award Show"? And why do it so poorly? Kanye as Left Field? The Foo Fighters open? Pete Wentz? If, for whatever reason, the Woodie Awards were an actual stab at attaining cultural relevancy with non-mainstream bros, then MTV got it all wrong.

I guess if they were appealing to proto-histers (tweensters? o gud) they probably did a fine job introducing "alt" stuff. But to this self-important blogger, they didn't do a fine job of anything else.

Except spreading the #GOLFWANG hype. That's always "okay."

This is a music blog

In Love With Oblivion [2011; Slumberland]

by Crystal Stilts

This record is so muddy and chill. Like, how The Doors were muddy and chill (so, like a fire-breathing dragon covered in dirt). It's fuzzy and thick and great. Chugging noise-rock. I've listened to the record like four times in a row, and it just makes me feel like I'm in the middle of a baking hot summer. Opener "Sycamore Tree" is jangly and classic. "Alien Rivers" might last forever. "Precarious Stair" has this sort of totally captivating regal detachment to its twinkling and bombastic swag. It's energetic and heavy at the same time. If you miss Women as much as I do, this will maybe sorta not really help relieve that sadness.

This is a book blog

The Sound Of The Mountain [1949-54]

by KAWABATA Yasunari

I don't even know where to begin. Homeboy authored one of my all-time favorite novels (Beauty & Sadness), and this might rival that masterpiece in terms of density and intensity. The frankness with which Kawabata describes old age, family dynamics, and sexuality is arresting and affecting. The prose is packed with haunting imagery. Don't get me started about that snake. Or the No mask. Dang, fam! The dialogue is loaded beyond belief and the characters are incredibly well-developed. The relationship between Shingo and Kikuko is so simple, complicated, difficult, confusing. I just don't have the energy to do this brilliant novel justice. All-together, it's a wholly convincing affair about death, lust, and identity that will drive you deep down inside yourself. If you like devastatingly subtle and poetic renditions of sexually-charged family life, then you'll love this! PS - Dreaming has never so adequately and honestly been captured in writing.

Wait

is it really that late? O GUD

Conclusions

Stay in school! I'll wake up early and do my reading. After finding out that a test I thought was on Tuesday is actually a week away, all work ethic vanished. Anyway, goodnight y'all.

*RARE* NEW BASED GOD VIDEO