"I'm on TV! I can do what I want!"

Because Leverage is awesome and y'all should be watching it -

The Horror

Statutory Warning: Please don't read this if you suffer from high blood pressure.

So, recently I came across this website called Ladies Against Feminism. Now, if I had a modicum of sense, I would have Alt + Left Arrowed my way back to my Google home page, but as has been demonstrated previously, I am an idiot, so -

The writers who contribute to this website believe, variously, that feminism is responsible for society crumbing into anarchy and that a woman's place is - as God ordained - in the home, caring for her children.

Competitive sport is not recommended for women for the following reasons:

"This rigorous physical and mental training tends to make women more masculine. I think it is prudent to often ask ourselves “Can a woman do this activity and retain a Biblically feminine character?” With sports I think it will be difficult in most cases. Even some of the traditionally more feminine sports like gymnastics and ice skating are now influencing women to be more masculine.

The Bible talks about women developing a quiet and gentle spirit; I think sports fosters anything but that. They instead develop a competitive and contentious spirit that will cause them to have great difficulty in their marriages. I already mentioned that the effort expended on sports will hinder the development of wifely duties around the home; even worse is when a man has to compete against his own wife in the workplace and community."

These women would, as a point of principle, not vote for Sarah Palin because that would force Mrs Palin (no Ms for the Ladies Against Feminism) to put serving the country above serving her husband:

"I would be putting Palin in a position to neglect her highest calling as mother and wife in exchange for a lower position as Vice President. Her generational impact would probably be far greater over time investing in being there for her children and teaching them diligently from home."

I cannot even begin to catalogue all the very many things I find wrong with their reasoning. I'm generally a to-each-their-own person, but this website makes me want to smash things. I - I could rant for paragraphs on this, but I'll just quote Rebecca West instead:

"I myself have never been able to find out precisely what feminism is: I only know that people call me a feminist whenever I express sentiments that differentiate me from a doormat."

Kaminey

Now Playing: Vishal Bhardwaj - Pehli Baar Mohabbat

When Zac Efron decides it’s time to shed his pretty-boy image for something more macho, he would do well to find a project like Kaminey, which manages to simultaneously make a hard man out of Shahid Kapoor and establish his acting chops.

Charlie is a small-time thug with big-time dreams while Guddu is an earnest social worker who passes out prophylactics to prostitutes. They’re also identical twins who haven’t spoken to each other in years and have non-identical speech impediments – Charlie lisps and Guddu stammers. Is it a coincidence that Charlie, who admits to taking the fast and dirty road to riches over the slow and steady, turns his s’s to f’s? Probably, but the picture is full of tiny delightful details like that one.

Vishal Bharadwaj abandons the Shakespearean roots of his previous films for a Tarantino-esque sensibility and a denouement that seems like vintage Guy Ritchie. As good as Omkara and Maqbool were, it’s nice to see that the director is capable of playing in a different sandbox. The acting is generally good; apart from the above-mentioned Shahid Kapoor, Priyanka Chopra shines as Guddu’s pregnant girlfriend Sweety and Amol Gupte is riveting as her politician /goonda brother, professional marathi manoos Bhope Bhau. Chandan Roy Sanyal has less screentime as Mikhail, the youngest member of a Bengali fraternity of crime, but his relationship with Charlie is fascinatingly ambiguous, fraternal with a definite homoerotic subtext.

There were three things about Kaminey that I really liked. First, there were actual, literal Chekov’s guns – I actually squealed, “CHEKOV!” when the guns made their second appearance. Secondly, there’s a scene where Guddu is being held by a pair of corrupt policement for questioning. At this point, the audience expects violence, pliers, electrodes, or any manner of torture from the policemen, who are desperate anything to elicit the information they believe Guddu has – which he doesn’t, as they really want Charlie. To complicate things further, there’s Guddu’s stutter, which worsens with stress. However - instead of increasing the physical inducement to get Guddu to talk, the senior policemen tells Guddu to sing, which reduces his stammer drastically and is not, surprise, surprise, a segue to a song sequence. Finally, while the hilarious irony of a guy who preaches safe sex knocking up his girlfriend never ceases to amuse, the Guddu- Sweety relationship is, though stormy, tender and loving. She manages him, and he’s happy to let her, and you really feel that these two crazy kids might make it after all, despite all the kaminey around them.

Let me whisper in your ear

Now Playing: Bell X1 – Flame

Five things you don’t know about me – at least, I hope you don’t, as otherwise this is going to be rather pointless –

1. I’m not at all a very sociable person. Anton Chekov wrote a story about a man who bets a large sum of money on his being able to stay in completely solitary confinement for fifteen years, with books and food provided. This was part of the English Lit curriculum in grade 9 or 10 and even then, this didn’t seem like such a bad bet to me. I enjoy company when I have it, but I’m just as content with reading material and music.
2. I have a secret weakness for shiny, frilly clothes – probably in reaction to the fact that the clothes I wore as a child were rather sober (thanks Mum & Dad!) Generally, I’m able to keep this magpie-like craving under control, but every now and then – as the budget allows – I come home from the mall with awfully loud purchases that I never wear, but would never, ever dispose of.
3. I’m not talkative because of any innate gregariousness, it’s just that I babble when I’m nervous.
4. When I had access to a lending library, my preferred genre was crime – the grislier the better. At one point, I even had this really macabre interest in true crime. Now that I’m thousands of kilometres away from the TPL, I have to confine myself to whodunit TV shows and am fast running out. Recommendations, anyone?
5. When fêted musicians or albums leave me cold, I always feel the weakness is in me. Why is it that The Arcade Fire does nothing for me, musically speaking? Do I have a tin ear? Is this because I watch MTV? Why do other people like the Strokes so? Why am I not in on this?

Voilà, go forth and ponder the sheer triviality of these 'revelations,' and feel free to tag yourselves if you feel like playing.

"On what planet do you spend most of your time?"

Following on from this post -



Marry me, Barney Frank.

For a Brit's take on how Universal Healthcare is supposedly The Return Of The Nazis, go here.