I'm a poet / essayist / memoirist/
journalist (in the sense of keeping a journal, not of working for a newspaper) and it occurred to me that a blog fits in with all that. If Montaigne, father of the essay, were alive today, he'd keep a blog. This is my self-portrait as frustrated artist who can't believe she's not famous yet. (And because it's part of my artistic endeavor, the whole damn thing is copyrighted. All rights reserved.)
July 2009
Sun Mon Tue Wed Thu Fri Sat
      1 2 3 4
5 6 7 8 9 10 11
12 13 14 15 16 17 18
19 20 21 22 23 24 25
26 27 28 29 30 31  

Categories

Archives

  • July 2009
  • June 2009
  • May 2009
  • April 2009
  • March 2009
  • February 2009
  • January 2009
  • December 2008
  • November 2008
  • October 2008
  • September 2008
  • August 2008
  • July 2008
  • June 2008
  • May 2008
  • April 2008
  • March 2008
  • February 2008
  • January 2008
  • December 2007
  • November 2007
  • October 2007
  • September 2007
  • August 2007
  • July 2007
  • June 2007
  • May 2007
  • April 2007
  • March 2007
  • February 2007
  • January 2007
  • December 2006
  • November 2006
  • October 2006
  • September 2006
  • August 2006
  • July 2006
  • June 2006
  • May 2006
  • April 2006
  • March 2006
  • February 2006
  • January 2006
  • December 2005
  • November 2005
  • October 2005
  • September 2005
  • August 2005

Recent Entries

  • Criminal Gila Monsters Riding Tractors and Eating Artichokes
  • You might want to put a bid on this one tonight, ladies and gentlemen, because we are talking to Phil Collins's people
  • Sunday So Far
  • Darling Lily
  • Even East Coast Super Lefties Think SLC Is WAY Cool
  • The Vamp Ass Buffy Really Kicks
  • Bore vs. Gore
  • The Priesthood is Magic
  • Stunted and Misshapen by the Priesthood
  • Men with First Names and Sweaty Palms

Recent Comments

  • Holly on Feminist Carnival, Again
  • Margaret Ervin on Feminist Carnival, Again
  • Dale on Feminist Carnival, Again

Read These

News Feeds


RSS1 | RSS2 | Atom

Credits

Powered by
Movable Type 4.261

Designed by

« One Down, a Whole Bunch More to Go | Home | My Glasses »

September 7, 2006

Feminist Carnival, Again

At the beginning of the summer I strayed from my commitment to blogging about feminism, but there at the end, when I started preparing for Sunstone, I got it back.... Anyway, the current carnival is up at Redemption Blues. I've perused some of the other very fine offerings--in particular I was struck by this post about the Stained Glass Ceiling: Rankism in Action on My Left Wing. The author, Breakingranks, neatly summarized my experience with Mormonism:

Lately, PR folk have been fond of the idea that markets are conversations. This implies a level playing field where people negotiate as equals and make fair exchanges. However, the spiritual authority hijacks the market. The spiritual authority stands on a platform and preaches to the masses. Spiritual authority is one (man's) vision imposed on all others, winning pre-eminence through guile, mass mobilization, and acts of verbal violence. The spiritual authority dictates reality, recording their vision on the world as if people were blank tapes. Perhaps spiritual authority does win in the marketplace of ideas and values, but perhaps we should ask ourselves why there should be a marketplace at all. And if there is a market, doesn't a diverse world imply niche markets of ideas instead of some beady-eyed guy shouting transcend, transcend, transcend!

Also wonderful: this post, Owning Beauty, on Basket of Eggs, about the significance of a beautiful blue dress she'd made.

Posted by holly at September 7, 2006 12:26 AM

3 Comments

By Dale on September 9, 2006 1:37 PM

The post was too long. Couldn't get into it. :-)

By Margaret Ervin on September 9, 2006 2:59 PM

The breasts post is fantastic! Wow. You really hit a nerve. In those comments, it becomes apparent that we have violent need to separate physical attraction from other kinds of attraction. Breasts are a real battleground in the general war zone that is women's bodies. Great point about the way women themselves internalize the notion that some get to count as real "T's," while others do not, as if those sub-"T" breasts almost do not physically exist.

Thanks for visiting my blog. See you in the Carnivals.

P.S. I am a lapsed knitter in addition to being a lapsed sewer.

By Holly on September 11, 2006 8:10 AM

Dale, you are so hard to please! Margaret, glad to have met another PA academic who also knits and sews.

Leave a comment


Type the characters you see in the picture above.