Sometimes I feel like my brain is one of those whimsical Rube Goldberg machines and that it takes the longest possible root to the most elegant explanations. And sometimes inspiration lands on my like a piano out of a window.

I’m in the middle of a Rube Goldberg thing at the moment.

As a kid, politics was the religion of my house. We spent Sundays watching Meet the Press and reading the paper. My mom always told me that politics is not a spectrum from left to right, but a circle where the right and left eventually met in totalitarianism. It was her argument for the moderate middle, and I believed it for a long time.

But now I don’t see that it makes any sense unless you are arguing for moderation. I think that the left’s attempts to appear moderate have sent us running to the far right in an effort to keep at a constantly changing mid-point.

What I have decided is that there is a spectrum for policy and another, independent one for execution.

You can have lefty dictators (Stalin) though the nature of conservatism is one that is likely to limit access to power and policy making, there must be a few conservatives out there who actually respect the idea of pure democracy (just because I have never met one doesn’t mean they don’t exist).

That’s what I’ve got so far. Now all I need is a candle that burns through a string that then releases a spoon that launches an egg that falls in a hot skillet that catches on fire and sets off the smoke alarms that make the whole thing more clear in my head. Simple- no?

The turkey is bathing in a liter of wine and butter
the green beans are blanched
the cranberries are sauced
the portabellos are marinating
the salad dressing is made, though the salad is not

I still have to make the stuffing, eggs, potatoes, yams. Finish the beans, mushrooms and salad. I also have to do laundry, beat the Kid into vacuuming, and misc other cleaning stuff.

And because a former stable boy (hot, brilliant and 10 years younger than me) has just come back into town and is coming tonight I need to bathe, shave my legs, change my sheets and clean my room and my bathroom. The turkey may not be the only thing getting stuffed tonight. Meow.

I have some lovely, well meaning, liberal, environmentalist friends who every now and then start bitching about population control. Whenever I hear population control I hear a dog whistle for “Why do poor brown women keep popping out babies they can’t afford” because if these well meaning liberals were really serious about population control they would get vasectomies at puberty.

The thing is, I understand carrying capacity and what happens when a society exceeds carrying capacity (either there is war which decreases the number of people in a system, a new technology has to be invented to change the carrying capacity, or the civilization collapses). I get that we are looking at a future where oil has or is about to peak and global warming is going to have serious effects on food production and water resources (just look at the current drought in the south east ). But what does not work to keep populations from booming is hand wringing by imperialist countries over exploding populations in India and China. Shaming women for doing one of the few things that they are ever given any credit for in misogynist societies doesn’t work. Limiting assistance funds so that more people will starve or die of disease doesn’t work. Hell, even China’s one child per family program hasn’t worked at keeping fewer children from being born. It just lead to girl babies being abandoned in favor of boy babies.

What works (and works VERY quickly- within one generation usually) is to give women access to education and economic opportunities. Women who have opportunities to do something other than being a mother will choose those options and women who choose to have children and an education will have fewer children. Period. No hand wringing. No guilt. Just education and economic opportunities. It’s very simple.

And while you’re thinking about all those “women having babies they can’t afford” maybe you should take a look at these numbers. The situation may not be as dire as the hand wringers suggest.

The Kid is playing a character who dies of illness in a Turkey day play written by his classmates. originally he was supposed to be shot int he head and thrown over the side of a boat. They decided illness was more realistic.

I have some issues with the hoopla of Thanksgiving, being that a large chunk of my DNA comes from people who were killed off by the colonizers of the New World. I once heard a story about a native guy who took a flag to Spain and claimed it for the Iroquois(I could be wrong- I was 7 at the time.)I thought that was the height of awesomeness.

But we still celebrate carb fest every year. We don’t do long tortured days spent with family members who hate us (anymore). Instead I have a giant party full of people I love and who love me back. And I do like the idea of being thankful for stuff- so here’s my list of things I am thankful for.

1) I have an awesome, tenderhearted kid who is more thoughtful thn most grown ups.

2) I have the best set of friends a girl could ask for. This year, since everyone knows I am broke, they are all contributing cash to the Carb Fest fund. I felt horrible for having to ask because I love to feed people, but everyone has just been incredible.

3) I live in a place where I can have as much sex as I want and as many kids as I want. I was thinking about this the other day. I think that if there is a god, s/he must have decided that all the work of making an individual thing is to tedious, and so we have sex instead as a reward for doing the hard work of creation.

As per the comment policy, idiotic comments will become fodder for for future blog posts.

From someone who calls himself “Laughing” and found us via a google search for the phrase “i really hate women” comes a comment on a post written by DeeK (who is most decidedly a dude)

I think I’m going to do this one up Heartless Bitches style. My critiques of the comment will be in bold. Here we go.

This is funny. You think sexism is one way? Why do men hate women? Because women hate men that’s why.

Wow- right from the beginning we get circular logic and a misunderstanding of how most isms function. Sexism, like racism is the product of a society where one set of people is given unearned privilege over another. In order to maintain the cognitive dissonance that unearned privilege creates tools are used to other the unprivileged section of society. That might be too deep for Laughing though. I suggest a quick look at the Feminism 101 site.

it is because men can not dress up like women or even share an emotion without being degraded for it.

Actually, that is a condition set up by men. The patriarchy is what makes men seem weak for acting like women by showing emotion or dressing up (that’s a new one I must admit. I have never heard a guy whine about how he’s not required to wear back breaking shoes and pantyhose before)

It is because of women who stand overhead and judge men on a constant basis.

Which is funny because actual judges are overwhelmingly male (Hello Supreme Court!) And the standing overhead part, are we women growing super tall or is there a vicious cadre of judgmental feminist stilt walkers that I don’t know about?

It is for the women who raped me as a boy who to this very day go on teaching in the school system. All, because no one will even acknowledge that boys can even be hurt.

Rape is a very serious problem, but 70 percent of all rapes are committed by men. It is very sad that you were victimized. Feminists acknowledge that men can be raped too, but it is our current patriarchal system that makes female on male rape go unpunished. Boys who are raped by women are treated as if they have made a great sexual conquest instead of having been assaulted. Women didn’t set up that construct, but feminists are the only ones working to make enthusiastic consent a requirement for sex. To us, everything else is rape.

It is because society shows women kicking men in the groin and its supposed to be something funny. To destroy our malehood, our babies.

Right, and violence against women is never treated as a laughing matter.

Strike us in the core of our being. yet, society has miseducated generations of males and females that women dont even feel pain, much less even get hurt anywhere.

Actually, we have about a thousand years of describing women as the “weaker sex”. Women are taught from the time they are little to watch out for all those big strong men in the world who will hurt you and that if you’re not careful enough in how you act, dress, where you go and what you do then being hurt by those men will be your own damn fault.

We have countless films depicting men being slaughtered in every conceivable way. Yet, not one woman is ever showing truly suffering. Male life is cheap but women are worth a ton of gold.

Films are for the most part fiction. In real life, women and children are the overwhelming victims of war. Soldiers get the glory, but civilians are the casualty.

Men are shown sex 24 hours a day then told that they are inferior because they dont want it. We are told that women want it all of the time and have triple O’s and so one and so on and we best keep up.

Really, cause what most people are taught is that women don’t really like sex, they just use it as a bargaining chip to get what they want. When a woman shows signs of sexual agency (or shows that she wants pleasure for pleasure’s sake) she is treated like a slut and a whore. Men are treated like they are some kind of unthinking sex animals who only don’t go around raping everyone in sight because women act as gatekeepers to the almighty pussy. Feminists want men and women to be able to have sex and orgasms when they want and to NOT have sex when they don’t want.

But then it doesnt matter cause most women would much rather have sex with each other so whats the point of man’s existence?

Really, there’s that many lesbians in the world? And all this time I thought my straight girlfriends really just wanted to be friends with me. I didn’t know that they were all desperate to get in my pants.

in the mind of a young boy all of this grows into hatred. An hatred of women because women are the ones who allow it to hurt their sons.

As an actual mother who is raising a feminist boy who both loves women and is loved by women- I think you are one seriously fucked up piece of shit.

Women are the ones who boast about how much money they make and how many degrees they have. They are the ones who “follow the rules” and take jobs away from men because they are more obedient.

Women have to get degrees because there are not any options for an uneducated woman to have a middle class career, where men do have that option. However, women still make less money than men, regardless of the degrees they hold.

And in ANY job, part of the deal is that you get paid for doing what you’re told to do. If you got paid for doing whatever the hell you wanted and didn’t have to follow someone else’s rules- you would live in backwards land. That is why it is called work and not happy fun time.

which i nthe eyes of any true man is a sign of weakness. men hate women becaus etheir mothers abused them. there is no one else to take the blame any more. the dad is gone. Abuse starts at home and it is the mother who allows or creates it. men’s hatred of women is a hatred of his mother for bringing him into a world where he doesnt have the right to be a human being.

At this point I am going to suggest a long run of psychiatric care should be in your future. You are obviously projecting a ton of your issues onto every single woman in the world.

The scar on my arm put there by a woman who abused me as a child is a sign that I will carry for the rest of my life. Of the hate and evil done to me by all women. I hate them because they hate me. And like any living being who has been done wrong never again shall a being trust that which has caused the most pain.

See above. You obviously have access to the internet- I suggest googling the phrase “mental health professionals” and your city name.

Jews hate the germans for what they did even to this day. men hate women for what they have done. All because women wont admit that they are wrong. the day when a female rapsit is treated with the same contempt as a man. Then the World will change. until then, men will never trust women and will forever hate them until the end of time. Inside of every angry man is the heart of a broken boy bleeding and crying to an uncaring world. And it was women who give him his first tears. It will never end.

Ah yes, it will be known as the Second Halocaust in the future when history books reflect how women secretly controlled the world through lower pay and higher rates of victimization by rape and domestic violence. It will be shown that women secretly met in dark underground caverns to discuss how best to abuse our sons by forcing men into positions of power.

That knock on your door, it’s probably the men in the white coats coming to take you too a padded room somewhere. You’ve figured out our secret plan and now you must be “re-educated” before you spoil the fun for us.

Kid just brought home a list of classic novels from which he must choose one to read and report on. The list is fine, though there is no Thomas Hardy and the only George Eliot book they have listed is Silas Marner. In order to avoid the “OMG what are you recommending my children read” section of over-reacting parents, books with stars are “more sophisticated- in either content or concept” and require parental approval.

My problem is what books they think are sophisticated. Here’s a sample:

Jane Austen: Pride and Prejudice
Emily Bronte: Wuthering Heights
Charlotte Bronte: Jane Eyre
Kate Chopin: The Awakening

Let’s see, we have Austen doing what she does best by describing the marriage market in late 18th century England. There is no sex or violence anywhere in the book. There is not even a kiss if I remember correctly.

Wuthering Heights: Jealousy, revenge and brutality are the basis for this novel which reinforces the idea that a woman can drive a man to violence. (I should note that I am not a fan of either Wuthering Heights or Jane Eyre- I prefer Austen, Hardy and Dickens for that matter).

Jane Eyre: The classic “slutty women lose their mind and get locked in attics” scenario.

The Awakening: married woman is bored with her stifling life, leaves husband and children, has affairs, commits suicide.

Guess which book is marked as more sophisticated?

If you guessed Pride and Prejudice you would get a great big old sack of gold stars. So a novel where women act as rational creatures in choosing whom to marry is more sophisticated than three novels where women who act outside of societal norms get punished for their behavior.

Yes, I can see how the idea of women acting rationally in their own best interest is a concept that might be too sophisticated for 7th graders, since we rarely give them the idea through media that women are in fact rational actors in their own lives.

When I was working at my temp corporate whore position this summer, I worked with a guy who could be considered the classic definition of cockswagger. I’ve worked in a lot of male dominated environments and have, more often than not, been the only woman in a group of male employees. So I have gotten pretty good at subversive tactics in mind-changing.

So Mr. Cockswagger, Ms. Still Young Enough to Believe That Secretaries Can Become The Boss and I were having lunch one day when Cockswagger called some guy a cunt.

Ms. SYEtBTSCBTB: You can’t say that!

Cockswagger: Say what?

Me: You can’t call someone a cunt

Cockswagger: You just said it.

Me: I own a cunt, I can say it all I want. If you don’t own one or you aren’t one, you can’t use the word.

Cockswagger: Well I own one too

Me: I dare you to call your wife right now and tell her you just said that.

Next day

Cockswagger: I talked to my wife about our conversation yesterday.

Me: And…

Cockswagger:(dejectedly) I don’t get to use the C-word.

And there you have it. That is why can call myself a bitch. That is why I can say cunt till I’m blue in the face. That is why it’s not racist when black people use the n-word or gay guys use the term fag.

It is also why calling someone a pussy is not an okay insult. Pussy is usually a term that men use to call other men weak. Except when you think about it, a pussy is probably one of the toughest body parts nature created. If you could spend 18 hours working to get a tennis ball to come out of your nostril, you are going to think of your nostril as the most amazing thing ever. Men use the term pussy to mean weakness because it means that a man is acting like a woman. I think it’s time we reclaim the word.

Instead of asking if someone has the balls to do something, I think I shall wonder “If he’s got the pussy to pull it off”. I may even retire the “ovaries of steel” line in favor of ” toughest pussy in the world”. When I see a woman do something brave or courageous, I will say that she has a “lead lined pussy” or maybe that she’s so strong her pussy could could give birth to an entire high school band, instruments and all.

A few days ago, I decided that the new medicine I’ve been taking was worse than the original disease. It made me sleepy and unable to write or think or even speak with my normal wit and snark. I’d only been on it for a month and I’d only been on the full dose of it for a week. So I stopped taking it.

The first day was great. Then the dreams started and I felt like I spent all night watching horror movies instead of sleeping. The second day I spent in a fog, but I figured it was just because I didn’t sleep well the night before.

Then yesterday I spent the curled up on the couch wondering if this is what schizophrenia feels like. Everything was both fuzzy and too intense at the same time. When the Kid and I walked to the store to get dinner, I thought the bright lights were going to kill me. It’s freezing here and I was hot and sweaty like I’d been hiking through a jungle in August. Sounds were freaking me out. I thought my head would explode when a car alarm went off and the Kid talking to me was like being swarmed by every mosquito in the world. It took every ounce of concentration to put one foot in front of the other and get home.

I came home and called a dear friend with massive drug knowledge. She’s taken this drug before and had the same problem.. “Take a pill now. You’re in withdrawal”. It took her two months to ween herself off a drug she had only been taking for two weeks. As it is, I’m having a problem just getting through the everyday stuff on medication. The idea of spending two more months on it is depressing. I hate having a brain that won’t do what I tell it to. I hate it even worse that I am stuck on a drug that doesn’t work because the withdrawal from it makes me think that a padded room in a mental hospital is an ideal vacation.

My doctor wants me to stick with this drug for another month. I want off it now. So do I play nice and do as the doctor says, or do I try to ween myself off it and hope that I don’t go nuts in the mean time?

First- I skipped my meds today (tehehehe) and have not only been able to stay bright eyed and bushy tailed all day long, but I was able to write most of an essay. Hip hip hurrah for clear thinking and snarkitude.

So this post at Feministe (which I’ll link once their site is working again) reminded me of a story I haven’t told in a while. I thought I’d share it now.

I am a political science major, but I have absolutely no interest in working as or for a politician- ever. I’m more of a theorist and a writer anyway, but there once was a time where I entertained working for a political campaign or party in some way. So I joined the Young Democrats. After attending meetings faithfully for awhile, I ran for vice president and won.

The chapter that I belonged to was in the deep south in a county known for creating some of our most hideous Republican politicians (Newt Gingrich’s home office was next door to the Kid’s preschool and Bob Barr was in his Clinton hating heyday at the time). Being a Democrat was not an easy thing, being a Democratic single mom was the next best thing to being Satan. But that didn’t stop me. I had bumperstickers on my car that proudly proclaimed my voting habits and regularly got harassed at gas stations and stop lights by conservative nutbags. I could take take it though. I’ve never had a problem arguing with the opposition.

I was the only girl in the leadership of our chapter, it was just four boys and me running our little show. But it was cool, right. I mean, they’re Dems after all. So when my first official task after being elected was to decorate for the annual holiday party, I didn’t think too much about it. When it became clear that all I was going to get to do was organize who would be bringing drinks and snacks and doing the decoration, set up and clean up of all of our events. I got a little huffy.

There were some good moments. We did a voter registration drive where I hiked miles through low income neighborhoods and signed up many new voters. I got a free ticket to the annual Jefferson Jackson dinner (a $500 a plate fundraising event) where Al Gore was the speaker. I ate bad chicken and drank cheap wine and met a bunch of politicians. I discovered dirty martinis.

Then we held a meet and great at a local university for a guy who was running for state senate. During the course of his speech he announced that his platform would include a law that would make committing a crime against a woman carry a punishment double the ordinary, because “women are natural victims, like children”.

I was supposed to be nice. I was not supposed to ask questions of the candidate during the open question part. But there was no way in hell I was going to let him get away with categorizing women as “natural victims”. So I raised my hand, and when called on I asked him if he realized that he just insulted half his audience.

The other Young Democrats started loudly hushing me, though the candidate was generally interested in my opinions. Eventually the chapter President interrupted to say “Elizabeth, I think we’ve heard enough from you”. I sat back down and steamed in my seat.

After it was over, the candidate came up to me to apologize. His campaign was new and it was an idea he was just trying out. He seemed earnest in his desire to actually help women. So I talked to him for a bit. I told him that if he really wanted to help women, he would make it easier to punish people who commit crimes against them, like rapists and wife beaters.

At that point, some of the old money wives of the grown up Democratic party organization joined us. They were just what you imagine, big hair, sparkly jewelry, brightly colored silk blouses and enough makeup to spackle a bathroom. One of them, in the best southern drawl I have ever heard, put her hand on the candidates shoulder and said “Honey, I don’t think you eveh wanna meet any one of us in a dark alley, victims we are not”. Then she introduced herself to me and said “Thank you for bringing that up”.

I left that night and did not return to the Young Democrats. What I realized is that even though they were supposed to be the party of equality, beliefs had not yet caught up to practices. Those fabulous jeweled wives had power in their own way, but they would never get a chance to drive the machine, and I would be forever relegated to event decoration if I stayed.

I am still a Democrat, old habits die hard maybe. Or maybe it’s that I believe we can pull the party back to it’s progressive ideas and put those ideas into real practice. We are still the only party in the country to have ever passed progressive legislation. The Green Party may seem like a more progressive party, but Democrats have actually gotten elected and that counts for a lot. I may volunteer for a campaign (or two or three) in the future and I may even volunteer my time to do phone banking and voter registration drives, but I will not work as a pink cog in the political machine. I have had my fill of the political flavor of women’s work.

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