While I work on a post that requires a hell of a lot of research, I ask you to be patient, just like you have been patient for most of this year because of my health issues. But here’s a quicky to keep you going.
via The surprising number of American adults who think chocolate milk comes from brown cows – The Washington Post
7% of all American adults (that’s 16.4 million) people believe that chocolate milk comes from brown cows.
How is this surprising to absolutely ANYONE who has a couple brain cells to rub together?
We have the person who called in to the KanKakee Daily Journal’s Speakout line (seen to the right) who may or may not have been a joke. Sadly, I have met SOME people who do actually believe that the meat in the grocery stores are in no way related to actual living animals.
Then we have Donna, “the Deer Lady,”. The audio clip from Y94 Playhouse Fargo, ND radio station states that the “Deer Crossing signs” should be moved to lower traffic areas so the deer know to avoid the higher traffic areas. Now, there is a follow-up phone call in which she admits to not knowing that the signs for people not deer. But she also claims to have been raised in a small, rural North Dakota town.
I didn’t know a lot about rural towns before moving to one, but I can tell you that there is NO person of driving age in this town that doesn’t know road signs are for PEOPLE. It takes a special kind of stupid to grow up in a rural town and not have a good basis in the facts of living in an area where you are likely to have to deal with wild animals when driving. Not counting the 2 deer or the one raccoon I’ve hit in the last 25 years of visiting my sister up here, I have also almost had an accident by a coyote crossing the rural highway (with no signs about it — but I know damned well deer are not the only animal to cross roads and I’ve primarily lived in urban spaces).
I was rewatching Halle Berry’s Catwoman tonite, and it got me thinking. I know that Wonder Woman is supposed to be this great re-visioning of what it means to be a strong, independent woman. I know many people looked at Catwoman as a complete and utter failure because of any number of excuses.
But what struck me is that what the movie does is reveals that women can only be free when they choose to define themselves, when they choose their identity and are true to it. It’s not about being “good” or being “bad,” but being who they are at their core.
For some women, being like Sharon Stone (Laurel Hadere) or Alex Borstein (Patience’s friend Sally) is who they want to be. They want to fit in with the world and build power and freedom within the limitations of what our society thinks is appropriate behavior for a woman.
They think if they can somehow attain that power (through their relative “attractiveness” or how closely to the supposed feminine ideal they can be) then they will be accorded the freedom to be themselves. The problem is, by the time that they attain that height, they have become something completely at odds with who they really are. Sadly, if they choose to try to reflect that inner truth, all of that so-called “power” or “freedom” disappears like a burst soap bubble.
The “living marble” that Laurel has become is a wonderful metaphor for this false self. We choose to try to conform as a way to keep from being hurt. We become who our family wants, who our husband or partner wants, who their children or friend group wants us to be — or who WE think they want us to be.
Sorry it has been so long, ladies and gentlemen. But my health takes first priority to everything else. Self-care has not been my forte, but I’m working hard to make it so.
It’s not the obvious rapists or misogynists that scare me. Why? Because I know how to fight that kind of obvious violence and hatred.
It’s the charmers, the manipulators — the true women-haters who turn a woman’s strength against herself. And this kind of person isn’t just some men. It’s often exactly how society has programmed both men and women. Yes, women can be this kind of perpetrator, and men can be victims too.
Many of us — myself included — give pieces of ourselves away because that’s what someone who is in love does. In the beginning, it’s only little pieces. It’s not that someone else is violently ripping apart our souls, it’s that we offer them up to be devoured.