Showing posts with label mini-rant. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mini-rant. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

I wanna drop kick art students

Undeclared (Woodlands, #1)Undeclared by Jen Frederick
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

This is my first foray into the "new adult" (NA) genre. I find it ... a little dull in terms of pacing; it has a lot of introspection but the character development is really slow. The female protagonist made me want to shake her on occasion, but that's probably because of some cultural thing. We don't dither that way in college here; we just jump in our course and just wade through 'em, come hell or high water.

The guy was interesting in that he served in the Marines before going to college. I was hoping for more development on his front as he had a great deal of things happen in his life that would shape him beyond the good-looking MMA champ-to-be who is breezing through college. Perhaps there's more about him in the second book, but I'm not sure if I want to spend my time there.

There's a great deal of partying, not enough school work at college here to make me feel that the situation is real. Perhaps that's because I was a science student; maybe the arty farty types have more jolly time in college. I don't know. But over all, even if I did read this in college, I'd probably drop it thinking that people sure don't think much about people my age.



View all my reviews

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

M is for Mask

Duplicitious.

Subtle.

Indirect.

Devious.

Women are often portrayed as conniving plotters and vile seducers out to victimise poor, hapless men. From centuries old fairy tales to the latest television hits, pop culture and literature are littered with women who are evil (i.e. has her own agenda that doesn't serve a man's), wily (i.e. respectable intelligence is only for men), bossy (i.e. only men are forceful), and the list goes on.

Why can't women be forthright, many men say. Why can't women be open about what they want and be honest about their true motivations? Why are women always saying A but actually meant B?

Dear readers, we are made that way.






(sic)

Many women grow up thinking that they need to present a certain front to the world. They are expected to be pretty, to be personable, to be nice, to be demure and subservient to the authorities in their life (namely, the men). They have to be a good daughter - do the chores, mind the younger siblings, cook the meals, be home by 6 pm, and come home with bushels of As for the exams. They are expected to be a great girlfriend -  the obedient wife - the undemanding mother.

And if they can't? Well ... fake it till you make it.



Lyrics to the awesome song is here.

Thursday, March 27, 2014

Yeah, I'm a sexist

... and I'm not ashamed of it. All stolen from tumblr.

Again, NSFW. What? I'm an adult. It says so on my birth certificate.

Monday, February 24, 2014

Oldie is not goldie

It is not uncommon to see sunrise/sunset couples. Yes, the kind where the dude could be mistaken as the dudette's father or even grandfather.

Case in point:


Media troll and vitriolic partner.

Beauty and Daddy.

Why don't these sort of partnerships raise brows, unlike:

 They hot together, no?

Both are drool-worthy, regardless of the way you swing.

Is it because partnership has to be about a resource provider hooking up with the best of baby factories? After a certain age, women develop menopause and can happily throw away the birth control pills, intrauterine device, estrogen patches, etc that helps them make sure no unexpected babies pop up (or out)*. For some reason, this leads to a devaluation of women in the eye of society; conveniently forgetting the wisdom that comes with age and the inner sex goddess unleashed by freedom from getting knocked up (also, who discovered the joy of self acceptance, unlike self loathing nymphs in their twenties).

It is okay for older men to hook up with younger women, right?  Men remain potent shooters of baby makers till the day they drop dead. Well, guess what?

Just 'cause you can shoot, don't mean you should.

Older fathers are more likely to pass on joyful stuff like sporadic schizophrenia (where you sometimes hear voices and may/may not go manic), osteogenesis imperfecta (where the offspring is so fragile that a strong sneeze could break a bone, kinda like this guy) and autism (it's not all like Rain Man) to their hapless offsprings. This is because the older you are, the greater the likelihood for your testicles to produce error-riddled sperms. Not to mention that fathers transmit 4 times more mutations than mothers.

And no, just because you are over 35 years old, it doesn't mean that your mutant sperm is going to produce X-Men in the next generation. Nature is cool, but it ain't a comic book.


I do have a predilection for this man, er ... Gambit.

* Caveat: Do not throw away the condom. You don't know where he's been. Learn the lesson from senior citizens who developed nasty stuff like HIV, herpes and syphilis.

Thursday, February 20, 2014

This is not a book review

I've been devouring Lee Child's Jack Reacher series and am enjoying them immensely. So I tried watching the Jack Reacher movie, curious to see how they could translate it into the big screen.



No, my hopes aren't the level of Star Trek geeks anticipating Episode I.

*moar rant below cut*

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

Macho macho man?

What makes a male human being manly?



I am glad that I am a female. I enjoy everything about being female, from the softness of my skin, to the lushness of my body, even the insanity that plagues me when the red flag is raised. I am hugely appreciative that I can enjoy and express my emotions and no one will call me on it and scream, "BE A MAN!" I don't have to pretend to not have fear, to not have insecurities, and I don't need to hide what is percolating in my head (to a certain extend, otherwise they'll put you in a mental institution).

However, I get to do all that because I am a female. But men can't do this; especially those conditioned in a machismo culture. Unfortunately, machismo is not helping men become manlier. It cripples men from exploring God's gift of emotions and to be honest with the most basic parts of themselves. When I read about the Prophet Muhammad: about his kindness, his unabashed affection for his wife(ves) and children and grandchildren, his gentle ways, his openness of his tears; all things that are contrary to the rough and ready Arab culture of those days, I am amazed. This was a *real* man who stood for what he felt was right, enjoined righteousness and did not fear society's anger or reprisal.

My fear is that machismo is often a slippery slope that leads to arrogance, misplaced pride and violence. Quite often the violence is directed towards the weaker ones, be it women, children, and even other men.



Let's kill the machismo that is strangling men. Because they deserve better.

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

When the shoe is on the other foot

Empathy: the feeling that you understand and share another person's experiences and emotions : the ability to share someone else's feelings. (Merriam-Webster dictionary)


I enjoy my dreams where I was a male; not many women know how amazing it is to be a man. When you are stronger and taller, with a deeper, louder voice, you see the world very much differently. You treat and judge people, particularly of the opposite sex differently. Possession of the Y chromosome comes along with a different perspective not just shaped by culture and upbringing, but also from atavistic mannerisms cultivated over milennia that are expressed with the testosterone gene.

As a feminist, I get very angry when men pooh pooh away issues that women have to deal with on a daily basis. Being considered an object, for instance. Whether you wear a bikini or a burqa, society feels that it has a right to comment and dissect and praise and denigrate your clothing choices. Why don't men who wear tatty jeans and food-stained t-shirts get the same disdain? What about the men who wear Speedos in public when it is clear that they do NOT have the physique for it?

When a woman is physically assaulted, the questions that follows are:

1) What was she wearing?
2) Where did this happen?
3) What was she doing when it happened?
4) Was she drunk?

Because it boils down to blaming the victim mentality: that the victim did something, ANYTHING, that provoked the attack. The thing is, no victim asked to be assaulted. It doesn't matter the clothes, the place, whatever. Good men do not assault women. Good men do not assault anyone. But the figures that are reported every so often on domestic violence, criminal assaults and so on indicates that there are very many bad men out there.

I think men take a lot of issues that women are concerned about for granted because physically they get to be at the top of the food chain. Perhaps these videos could help make men understand what it's like when the shoe is on the other foot.




And this.



So please. Have some empathy for the travails that plague half of humankind. You may be one man but you have a role to play. Be an example. Teach your sons that there are better ways to get a girl's attention than swiping at her bum or catcalling. Teach your sons that no one has a right to touch another individual without consent. Call out when another man behaves badly towards the women in his life.

It has to start somewhere. Why not with you?

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Vroom! Vroom!

What the interior of my baby looks like on a rainy night.

Like many suburban teenagers, I took the driving test after completing my SPM (high school exam). I remember being terrorised by a driving instructor who didn't understand that I had no clue that there are other gears apart from 1st and reverse. Hey, my first three lessons were nothing except the bit about parallel and and L-parking, okay?

After getting my license, I harassed my Dad to let me drive. I may have gotten JPJ's (Department of Motor Vehicle) permission to drive on the road, but getting past Daddy!JPJ was much harder. It took a while, but I finally got permission to get myself around in Mum's car, even to uni. Lucky for me, there weren't many students driving in those days, so parking wasn't as hellish an issue as it is now in my alma mater.

A lot of drivers, myself included, take driving for granted. We got wheels and can go places, whether because of work (all those hours behind the wheel cursing other salarypeople like myself who are also on the road) or even out of duty or pleasure. Of course we curse the Government with every fuel hike, conveniently forgetting that we pay the least for fuel in this region, but nonetheless, we could continue to choke the highways and widen that hole in the ozone layer over the McMurdo Base in Antarctica.

Ladies in Saudi Arabia do not have this luxury. Bad enough they are treated worse than toddlers (cannot go anywhere without a male family member or written permission), they don't even have the luxury of self transportation. I don't know if there are any public transport system in Saudi (I doubt it), but with the kind of social restraints put on these women, they can't even board a bus without a pass from their husband/father/brother/son/whoever with a Y chromosome in their household. If their child had an accident in the house and needed to be taken to the hospital pronto, she will have to wait for a male member of her household to come home, pick them up and go.

Saudi Arabia is the only country in the whole world that forbids women from driving. The authorities in Saudi Arabia claimed that allowing women to drive would be detrimental to society. Some cleric even said that driving would damage women's ovaries or something equally demented. I am not surprised. It was in Saudi Arabia that I saw signage in shops that says "Women are not allowed!". Like we are dogs. Which is also lousy for business because, hello? Shoppers bring revenue, remember? Who cares what sex chromosomes they carry?


Last Saturday a group of women in Saudi got together and pushed for a campaign to allow them to drive in the streets of Saudi. The website of the campaign was hacked in order to discourage them but at least sixty women donned their hijab and braved the disapproval and got behind the wheel and got to places. It's a start, but hey, even suffragettes didn't get the vote until decades of blood, sweat and tears, hey?

Anyhoo, this guy made this cool video poking fun at the Saudi authority's stand on women driving. Check it out.



Solidarity for our sisters in Saudi!

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Jalan-jalan cari makan ...

... extreme polar edition.



I don't eat molluscs; but I suppose seal and whale meat day in and day out would get old during the long winter months. The  people of Kangiqsujuaq apparently laughs in the face of death racing against time to collect mussels for a change in their seasonal diet.

Thirty minutes is all they have to hack through the sea ice, grab the delicious mussels and get out. They risk drowning in the frigid Arctic water as the ocean rushes back with the rising tide or being crushed by the shifting polar sea ice.

Can you imagine dying just because you are beyond sick of what is available on the dining table? Malaysians pride our country as a some kind of food Mecca. No matter what your palate favour, you can find it here; cordon blu haute cuisine, weird meats and sago worms, whatever you want, really.

The reality of what was shown in the video above is something that many Malaysians cannot envision, except perhaps those who live in the rural areas or experience economic hardships. This disconnection about where food comes from is probably a contributing reason as to why Malaysians waste food. In the face of the many people who go without, are malnourished or have only one meal a day, do we think about food beyond what we want to eat?

Do we also think about the way the food we eat are sourced? We haggle over the price of fish and seafood, blithely ignoring the warnings of the devastation of over-fishing and the hardships faced by the fishermen to bring their catch to land. We think we are animal lovers, and yet we close a blind eye to inhumane farming practices and abuse of antibiotics and hormones on livestock that we consume. We take for granted the vegetables and fruits we enjoy year around that are grown under unsustainable conditions that also poison our water supply.

For all the ranting above, I am cynically aware of my own apathy about where my food comes from. Unless you are an activist type, reading or even knowing about the stuff outlined above remains nothing more than an academic exercise. I read Fast Food Nation and it still didn't stop me from eating at Mickey D (I reason that the supplier for the Mickey D here are either local or from developing countries that need the economic growth).

That said, I do think that we should be more grateful with and for everything that crosses our lips to enter our gullet. Honour the food that nourishes you; respect the hard work that got it on your plate (your own, the food producer and procurer and the person who cooked it for you) and enjoy it. Don't take it for granted.

Because you could be an Inuit who died because you are tired of eating seal and wanted to have some mussels instead.

Thursday, June 6, 2013

Secrets of a stay at home mommy



The ExpatsThe Expats by Chris Pavone
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

*edited because I am wide awake and could assemble my thoughts better.

I had stopped reading spy thrillers or any kind of thrillers in my late teens. I find them formulaic and depressing, though I still enjoy over-the-top, psycho-sociopath Bond as written by Ian Fleming and the crazy adventures in Alistair Maclean's novels. The latter I treat with respect; some of his books made me cry crazy buckets (say, Guns of Navarone or HMS Ulysses).

When I read the review of this book in The Sunday Star, I was intrigued. A former spy female protagonist in a thriller? Bring it to mama, sugar.

Sadly, as a reader who favours characters over plots, I don't find Mr Pavone's characterisation of Kate convincing. I am willing to forgive clunky story telling if I love the characters (I'm looking at you, Laurell K Hamilton). Somehow, I don't think a female former spy would let matters of trust and privacy to stop her from finding things out about her husband when she sniffed something suspicious about his new job.

Also, as the story was near totally from her POV, I find that Kate I is ... boring. I get that she has to make a huge transition from being a CIA analyst to being an expatriate hausfrau, but her desperation at the banality of her life is so ... meh. Perhaps she's not a larger-than-life character as I am used to reading in other genres, but seriously, it's hard to want to root for her. Or her husband. Or the antagonist characters. They're all so meh. You expect some unexpected jalapenos somewhere when you read about spies (they have licence to kill!) but this is like consuming a huge bowl of oatmeal pudding. Bland and never ending.

The timeline jumps did not help matters. It's a bit disorienting because the flashes are disjointed; what does it have to do with what's currently going on? Perhaps if I re-read the book I can pick up the pattern of the chronological leaps, but I really cannot be bothered to re-read this.

However, I will admit that Mr Pavone has a gift for describing scenes that really makes you feel like you're a part of the scenery, even smell the coffee served at the corner boulangerie. For instance:

"She can see past the woman to the bright, leafy courtyard at the other end of the dark breeezeway whose walls are filled with mailboxes and electrical junctions and rubbish bins and loose wires and chained-up bicycles. Her own building has a similar passage; there are thousands of them in Paris. All competing for the best-place-to-kill-someone award."

It was an interesting foray into the genre, but I don't think I'll be picking up another sample anytime soon.

Male protagonist: 1/5 stars
Female protagonist: 2/5 stars
Storyline: 3/5 stars
Pacing: 2/5 stars
Fun Factor: 2/5 stars
Repeat Reading Factor: 1/5 stars

View all my reviews

Dangerous my foot

Dusk with a Dangerous Duke (Lords of Vice, #6)Dusk with a Dangerous Duke by Alexandra Hawkins
My rating: 1 of 5 stars

... spoilt brat is more like it.

I usually do the page 99 test when trying out a new author but this time around, I only did the flip the last few pages and thought that this book had promise. I mean, beaning of a baddie with a bedwarmer to rescue the hero? Sounds like game on, right?

Wrong.

You have a group of guys who call themselves Lords of Vice. You hope to have them be snarky and dissipated. What you get is a bunch of guys who get together and chitchat like Valley girls. WTF?

Urgh.

The heroine. I had so much hopes for someone who rescued the hero with a bedwarmer. But somehow she seems schizophrenic to me; alternating from innocent miss who loves her neglectful fiancee to I-will-marry-anyone-to-foil-my-uncle virago. I find it hard to reconcile someone who wants to preserve her inheritance at all cost by getting married before turning 21 would snub a ready-and-able fiancee in search of a mythical love match in a few week's time. It's not ... logical. Just make up your mind: do you want to preserve your inheritance or marry for love? Because the scenario simply paints that you can have one but not the other.

How to deal with such annoyance? I skipped pages till the end because dammit I paid good money to rent this book and Ima finish it.


Male protagonist: 1/5 stars
Female protagonist: 1/5 stars
Storyline: 2/5 stars
Pacing: 1/5 stars
Fun Factor: 1/5 stars
Repeat Reading Factor: 0/5 stars

View all my reviews

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

In the land of make believe ...

.... you're mine tonight
... although you are far away



I fell in love with Dusty Springfield thanks to Jennifer Crusie's Welcome to Temptation, one of the shiniest example of screwball romantic comedies in print. A woman forced to make soft porn in a small town and fell in love with the mayor who's fighting against an anti-pornography law? Classic. I love to belt along to Dusty (singing badly, I will admit) as I tool down the highway in my cute compact. But this post is more than just a rec of my favourite author and 60's singer, but an examination of how badly you can screw up your life if you are unable to get out of the land of make believe.

Fantasies are one of the most amazing creative forces that shape human existence. Our lives are enriched by it; either we enjoy the escapism of our own day dreams or we enjoy the artistic output of other fantastic minds (Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings, etc.). Fantasies can help us cope with traumatic events by providing a happy ending (that didn't happen) or softening the blow (the Nile ain't just a river). There are those who scoff at people who fantasises or daydreams, thinking that keeping your feet firmly on the ground is the only way to live. But hey, different strokes for different folks, aye? Being a killjoy ain't gonna make your virtuousness any more palatable when you shove 'em down other people's throats.

But there is a dark side to fantasies as well, they're not just unicorns and enchanted gardens. Some of us entertain thoughts and ideas that are contrary to normative values of the society we live in (not to mention stuff that would get you either stuffed into a straight jacket and drop-kicked into a maximum security prison). No matter how perverted or twisted your fantasies are, so long as they remain just that, fantasies that is, it shouldn't be a problem.

Or would it?

Armin Meiwes was born in the wrong country and time. If he were a native of Papua New Guinea prior to the 20th century, human meat would have been available on the menu to satisfy his palate (perhaps without the cordon bleu pretensions). Unlike many who would simply visit fetish sites to get their kicks, Herr Meiwes actually advertised for a human to be eaten and apparently had a few responses. Needless to say Herr Meiwes did not get away with consuming his victim; although the act was consensual (if someone doped to the gills with painkillers and liquor after chopping off his manly bits can give proper consent), Herr Meiwes is now serving a life sentence.

Recently we heard about Gilberto Valle, a police officer in New York who has been found guilty of "conspiracy to kidnap and illegal use of law enforcement computer databases to research potential targets," thanks to his cannibalism fantasy. He toyed with the idea of stalking, killing and eating his wife and a few women of his acquaintance. It wouldn't have been bad had he stopped there, but he was caught accessing law enforcement database to feed this fantasy. 

Surely this baby-faced dude couldn't want to roast and eat me?

The trial unearthed his gruesome porn habit and his chat and email records showed stalker-y tendencies that would make any sane woman shudder. Although none of his "victims" were actually harmed, but he is now considered to be a danger to society, thanks to evidence that his fantasies have bled into some actions in real life. No, he did not buy any duct tape or chloroform. But he took pictures of women of his acquaintance and shared it with like-minded cyber pals with ideas of what he would like to do to these women. His persistent queries over his wife's running route took on a sinister cast when it was discovered that he was preparing a menu featuring her as the main course.

So where do we draw the line between what we can safely fantasise and becoming a real threat to society? Minority Report, much?

If you fantasise too much, Tom Cruise will come and get you. A real horror for non Tom fans.

The revelation of child sexual abuse by the clergy and in orphanage or juvenile delinquent institutions the world over as well more reports daily about children sexually abused by their family members have gotten people up in arms and paranoid about child molesters. In the Western countries, there are sexual predators lists made available to the public and websites where you can check if you got sex offenders (particularly those who prey on children) in your neighbourhood.

Law enforcement take sexual predators of children very seriously. Many have a specific group working to identify and capture paedophiles. It is admirable and heartbreaking work as there are many children who are still injured despite their efforts. But should Lolita fantasists be penalised for their fantasy? Rachel Aviv reported the slippery slope that landed John, a military veteran unable to connect with women of his age who sought refuge in fantasising about sex with young girls, in prison.

His addiction to hardcore pornography featuring young girls being abused has led him to a sting operation that exposed him as a possible sexual offender. I found it disturbing that he could look at those pictures and get aroused, not seeing them as victims or empathising with their pain and trauma. Most child pornography are created illicitly by the abusers, unlike mainstream(?) porn featuring adults who consent (mostly) to the acts that are committed on celluloid (or digitised in these days). This dissociativeness is not unusual among hardcore porn consumers; the images are just pictures, not real people to them. Porn rewires your neural pathways for gratification; it keeps consumers going for greater kinkiness because they can no longer get off with plain vanilla sex.

Many would say that if the law enforcers did not entrap him, John is highly unlikely to act on his fantasies. After all, the man still knows right from wrong and is aware that his fetish is illegal. He had not abused any girls; most of his sexual encounters were with prostitutes.  But would his fantasies have just remained on his desktop computer and not getting him to purchase an airline ticket to a holiday destination that is known to offer child sex workers? We will never know.

It is a great leap from watching porn to actually committing the acts you watch, true. Just like millions who play Grand Theft Auto never go on shooting sprees. The Internet is a wonderful tool to connect with other people who share similar ideas and engage them in role-plays and fantasies. However, it is incredibly sad that a man who had served in the military, considered a competent man in his area of expertise but was so crippled by his poor social skills that he attempted to find a sense of belonging among such a dastardly community.

Therefore, when the fodder of your fantasy tends to be the kind that WILL land you in prison, you have to be extra careful about committing acts that can be construed as turning your fantasies into reality. Or you could be like John, behind bars for the better part of twelve years without even living out his fantasy.

Saturday, March 9, 2013

Detachment

Most films about the teaching profession are very positive. A forceful and charismatic teachers lands in a (usually) lousy (inner city, no doubt) school with a class filled with delinquents, lazy jocks, the misunderstood creative outcast, the nerds and the rest of the usual cast of student "archetypes", at least by way of Hollywood scriptwriting. To Sir, With Love is perhaps the most iconic of redemption-of-students-by-saviour-teacher, the formula of which was replicated by films like Stand and Deliver and Dangerous Minds (based on true stories, yeah okay).


I bet there wasn't a dry eye in the cinema by the closing credits.

And then you have Dead Poet Society and the female copycat version Mona Lisa Smile where the teacher inspires the students to think outside the box and abandon the shackles put upon them by the hidebound society that cossets their privileged arses. While most of these movies share a running theme that is mocked by the most cynical as mawkish sentimentality, they do underline an important aspect about the teaching profession: teachers are potential cult leaders.

I'm just kidding.

(the rest is under cut for extreme movie spoilers)

Sunday, October 28, 2012

Waving the red flag

Period.

Nearly all women between the ages of 8 to 58 experience the monthly haemorrhagic episodes. They have to deal with the inconvenience of leaking bodily fluid, physical discomfort that ranges from mild bloating to cramps that make you curl up and wish for death and emotional distresses brought upon by hormones gone amok.

Not just that, they have to deal with lousy jokes popped by men who snidely say, "Oh, it's that time of the month is it?"

And then this guy pops up on FB.



I would like to think that this guy was just being ironic. Of course, it actually just accentuates what a huge douche he really is and a total moron for thinking that the monthly bleeding is actually about puppy tails and candies for women.

And the reply by Bodyform?



Super awesome.

I came across this one and saw that many men would rather bleed to death than go inside a store to buy pad's for a lady.



You'd run through a hail of mortar shots to drag your friends from total annihilation but not walk into a store and buy tampons? What the fuck is wrong with this picture? Did you think that buying a feminine hygiene product will miraculously transform the junk you are so proud of with a bleeding vagina?

Women have to undergo cultural and religious persecutions for centuries because of misconceptions of a normal biological function. It is this self same function that allows women's body to accommodate a foetus (or more) and continue to perpetuate the existence of the human race. Yes, it can be messy and uncomfortable, but if men are the ones who have to suffer through menstruation and childbirth, I'll bet we'd all die out with Adam.

So gentlemen, next time the ladies in your life are going through menstruation, have a heart will ya?


Tuesday, October 16, 2012

No kidding?

Heh. It has now been verified. You got to stand up for your right, ladies. Cos the men ain't just gonna hand it over.

The Civic Origins of Progressive Policy Change: Combating Violence against Women in Global Perspective, 1975–2005

Thursday, August 23, 2012

Amazing solution ...

... to end gun violence.



Man, I'd vote for politicians like this.


Wednesday, August 8, 2012

Can't talk to a psycho ...

... like a normal human being. I love this song. Poe is awesome, 'nuff said.

 

Psychopath, sociopath. Tomayto, tomahto. *shrugs*


























People who do this to me are dead in my flist. Dead I tell ya!


I am sure you know people that can be described beautifully using the above diagram. I doubt anyone has ever gone through life without entering the orbit of a sociopath. 

After all,


Right?

Friday, April 20, 2012

You don't have to keep your hands to yourself



This song always makes me smile with its easy honky tonk rhythm, bringing to mind a smoky Western bar with ladies in painted on jeans and big hair and wild make up line dancing to it with men in ten gallon hats. But the deeper message of the song is not that light hearted. Basically it was about a guy who wants a little lovin' without payin', if you catch my drift.

Now, the gents may think that the lady was being a little hard on him, insisting on a wedding ring before engaging in intimacies. But many men don't appreciate that it is always the woman who is left holding the bag, or more likely, the baby. Many denigrate the pro choice team for being "baby killers" but how do you resolve the problem of unwanted pregnancies (whether within a marriage or without)? Women can lose their jobs for getting pregnant. Often they have little to no support to help them either financially, materially or emotionally to have children, even worse for those who have no partner to help shoulder the burden.



I love how this song speaks about the hard choices a woman have to make, often without support because of a mistake or even rape.

For so long the discussion about unwanted pregnancy focuses on women; how they should be more modest, don't tempt men, keep their knees together, and not have sex with men who are not their husbands (like men only have sex with their wives, hah!) and so on and so forth. Because women are the one who will get pregnant, it seems like the onus is only on them to make sure it doesn't happen.

But may I point out, gentlemen, that it takes two to tango?

Why not make it easy on the lady (or ladies, if you fancy yourself a player) in your life and partake on the amazing discovery by Prof. Sujoy K Guha and get yourself RISUG? The procedure doesn't take any longer than your visit to the dentist and you only have to get it once every ten years. Think of how much you can save on condoms! Besides which, condoms do have a failure rate of up to fifteen percent and some men are allergic to latex (you DO NOT WANT rashes on your precious dangly bits or the need to carry EpiPen to ensure the post-coital panting isn't anaphylactic reaction).

So take responsibility for your sexuality, gentlemen and do the right thing! Do it even if your DNA is super amazing and demands propagation! Unless, of course, you wanna be pickin' up the child support cheque. In which case, by all means go forth and multiply.

Note: If you are in the habit of bed hopping, then you need to use condoms (latex or polyurethane) to ensure that the bodily fluids you share ain't gonna carry nasty critters to your partners (or you acquiring said nasty critters). It's kinda awkward having to ring up a bed partner three weeks later to inform her that she may need to pay a visit to the friendly neighbourhood STD physician, you know?

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Reality check for elementary schoolers ...

Scrooge, much?

*buries my giggles in my facepalm*



Seriously, I would like to think I am just like the last kid. Just keep smiling in the face of misanthropy!

Saturday, October 29, 2011

Thinky thoughts

We grew up bombarded by images; stills and videos, in our media saturated world. I am sure many of us are skeptical about the idea of subliminal messages and how we are manipulated to buy, to believe, to act, by a group of nameless and faceless people driving media corporation.

But how many of us believe that pretty girls cannot do maths? How many of us believe that blondes are hotter than brunettes? How many of us obsess over what a female senior administrator look like rather than how well she can do her job?How many of us believe that women are emotional, conniving jerks? If you ever entertained such thoughts, please watch the video below.



If you have mothers, wives, daughters, sisters, I hope you rethink your stance.