I'd rather play at hug o'war

It is a fact of every girl’s life: we are taught from birth that what lies between our legs is something that others will try to take by force if we aren’t careful. A friend once posted to her journal: "The idea of all the things I haven't done, the experiences I passed on, because nobody wanted to go with me and it just wasn't the smart/good/safe thing to do by myself,” and this perfectly sums up the inherent problem with our society and its treatment of rape. Everywhere a woman goes, the onus is put squarely on her, all the ways in which she should protect herself: don’t dress a certain way, don’t go out after a certain time of night, don’t go out alone, don’t leave your drink unattended, etc., etc. Never is the responsibility put on the shoulders of the perpetrators themselves. While women join clubs to learn self-defense, men are excused with “boys will be boys” attitudes. It is bad enough to deal with the shame – living in the world we do, it is hard not to internalize the constant barrage of victim blaming and victim blame ourselves – but then we are forced to defend ourselves to those who are supposed to aid us in our search for justice as well as the community at large. Why is it the victims’ responsibility to protect themselves from being attacked? Yes, there is common sense, behaviors everyone should employ in their daily lives; however, even as we call out other countries’ treatment of its women, we are living in a country where a state supreme court decided that once sex has begun, I lose the right to say no and goes so far as to include such laughably offensive language as “re-flower” in the legal opinion.

It is clear rape culture is alive and well. We need look no further than our own campus with the female student who awoke to find herself the unwanted focus of a stranger’s attention in her own home. Or even more horrifying, the recent revelations out of Cleveland, Texas, and the coverage it has received. Even in so-called reputable newspapers like the New York Times, an eleven-year-old girl’s behavior is called into question, that she sexualized herself and thus has no choice but to accept the repeated gang rapes; or, even worse, a resident’s comment that "[t]hese boys have to live with this the rest of their lives.” Yes, these “boys” will have to face their complicity in not just the repeated gang rape of a child but also its glorification in both photograph and film. How about we consider the implications facing the victim? How about the fact this child has not only been brutalized repeatedly but is now living in hiding, away from her family, for her safety? That her family is still getting harassed on a daily basis and is seriously considering a permanent move, again, only as a means of the safety of their family?

It is time that we held those who commit this unspeakable crime accountable. It is time we taught our boys and men that they are the ones who are the best prevention when it comes to rape. It is time our girls and women didn’t walk around with the threat of rape forever hanging over them. I know I’d sleep better.

This was my submission to my university's opinion page. I love that I'm now a Liberal Studies Major, because I can delve into all the ways that women are screwed throughout history so I can then use it to fight against all the bullshit we face every day.

Also, inlovewithnight, I hope you don't mind my reusing your quote again.

In my personal top five as far as movie kisses go. Perhaps only surpassed by Cary Grant and Ingrid Bergman's amazing clutches in Notorious – can they really be called kisses? They're like these desperate, closed-mouth leans and yet I love love LOVE them – and the car scene in Roman Holiday. Anyway, this scene never fails to turn me into a puddle of girly goo; I can still remember watching this the first time (and the second, third, fourth...) with Shawn and Chad when we were kids. Then Nana's dog started humping the couch. Also: probably the hottest I've ever found Eric Stoltz, save for The Waterdance.

And this lovely trip down memory lane was directly inspired by romanticalgirl's still awesome article What Makes Sexy?.

I love that this goes completely off the rails, but the interviewer just sits back and enjoys the show. Can I have a Jason Segel of my very very own already?

ALSO? I WISH TO KICK MY COMP II TEACHER IN THE SHIN.

NPH, how you so awesome?

In other awesome news, I'm wearing this bra and holy hell, the CLEAVAGE. It's like, "HI, BOOBS." Love it.

Apparently, researchers are looking into a "sweet tooth" gene. In the immortal words of one Mr. Chandler Bing, I KNEW IT! *raises angry fist at sky* When I get up there, great-grandpa Schmitz (and great-grandpa Mayer, too, apparently - SUGAR IN YOUR VEGETABLES? REALLY?), you and me? We are gonna have some words.

Also, Universe, I'd like to have a chat with you as well. So yeah, I had a MAJOR HUGE RIDICULOUS EMBARRASSING thing for Adrian a million and a half years ago but must you continue to have him pop up most unexpectedly like that? MUST YOU DANGLE HIM LIKE THE PROVERBIAL CARROT? SERIOUSLY? This is not helping in my ongoing quest to continue not liking his not-stupid ass self, okay? OKAY?

NOT ON, UNIVERSE.

This amuses me for a couple of reasons. Namely, I think Justin Timberlake is pretty amusing in a delightfully self-deprecating, if self-serving, way, and he gets a much-deserved mailbox post to the nuts like four times. I'm still a little bitter about the video for "What Goes Around Comes Around" and I'll take what I can get, even fictionally.



Random musing: I swear Matthew Santos and Ryan Gosling are brothers of another mother.

If there is any good to be had out of this whole writers' strike it is this: there are some funny skits coming out, and this is one of them.



On a completely shallow note, Josh Radnor looks quite hot in a beard, but then I loved the flashback to Ted meeting Barney and the goatee of hotness sported by one Mr. Radnor. The boy looks good with some facial hair. What can I say? I loves me some facial hair.

As per usual, I was listening to NPR on my way into work this morning. Naturally, there was much discussion about Mitt Romney's speech yesterday addressing his faith (or not? I'm still undecided). Most of the people polled during the segment thought it was a misstep but ultimately raised their opinion of him, and these were folks in NH who had attended his less-than-stellar rotary club meeting this past Tuesday. Again, most felt that this was a non-issue, especially in light of JFK’s speech (in Houston, no less) back in the 60s regarding his Catholicism.

I disagree. Man, I disagree SO HARD. I think it is an issue, an important one, especially when Romney says his faith will guide his decisions if he were elected president.

The reason? Bush, plain and simple. The current idiot in charge has allowed his personal beliefs, his theological system, to affect matters of STATE on more than one occasion (his stance on Roe v. Wade [and the perceived (rightly so) threat of his power over the Supreme Court], gay marriage/rights, the government funding of church-funded programs and schools, and stem cell research, as well as the abstinence only program for “sexual education” [what a fucking joke] just to name a few). Yes, one should follow one's own moral compass which is largely informed by one's belief system, but not when it goes against the majority of the nation, the majority of the House and Senate. They are our voice. WE THE PUBLIC elect them to speak for us, and when you say that you will veto something voted on and approved by Congress simply because it doesn’t match with your own belief system? That’s when you’ve stepped over the line, buddy, but then I truly believe you can’t even see the line anymore, it’s so fucking far behind you.

Granted, I am someone who does not believe in organized religion; however I think everyone has a right to practice their faith any which way they want to. Just keep it out of my face (having grown up in the south, I’ve experienced my fair share of “testifying” so I may be a wee titch bitter) and for fuck’s sake, keep it out of my government.

Ahem.

In news of a much sweeter sort, more proof that Nathan Fillion is not only awesome but more than worthy of my undying love and adoration.

( So. Jensen Ackles is pretty. )

And I finally got to see Knocked Up, which was so fantastic. Funny and emotional and wonderfully honest. I just. I may end up seeing it in the theater again, and it WILL be finding its way into my DVD collection.

* Waitress is finally here! Mom called me, all a-squee, "GUESS WHAT'S PLAYING AT AMC GULFPOINT 30???!!!" And, you know, this was around 7-ish and I was like, "Um?" And she was like, "WAITRESS! 11:35am for five bucks. My treat…I have the freshly laundered 10 bucks to pay for our tickets." (For the record, she washed her money, as she is wont to do quite often; she's also washed two phones, too.) So, yeah. Tomorrow, baby.

* I heart John Krasinski. He's also EXTREMELY FUCKING HOT in those pics from Mean Magazine. GMMR has the scans up, both the pics and the interview. My favorite excerpt: ...And one beautiful summer day after being provoked – make sure you print that, highly provoked by my brother – I threw [a lawn dart] into his head. And it stuck into his head and he ran a good 100 yards before he got to my dad, who walked out of the house and, as my brother ran by, grabbed the other end and pulled it out. My dad held this bloody dart in his hand and looked at me and said, "You see this? This really could have hurt someone."

But this is officially my fave pic of the guy. He's wearing GREEN. And not just any GREEN, but MY FAVORITE SHADE OF GREEN. Not on, JKras. NOT ON.

* I was less than impressed with Starter Wife, but The 4400! Burn Notice! Psych! Oh, USA. *hearts* You make the summer months so much more bearable. Well, you and TNT.

* ANNNND... Happy Birthday, inlovewithnight! Hope your day is awesome and filled with lots of cake and delicious food.