Sorry not sorry?

This week I have finally joined the legion of Beliebers. It turns out millions of pre-pubescent girls can't be wrong. His catchy beats and simple, but effective lyrics, "my mamma don't like you and she likes everyone," (BUUUUURN!) are impossible to deny. Also, the kid really can sing and he's pretty easy on the eyes, even if these old-ass eyes still see him as a child.

In addition to making these impossibly catchy tunes, he's also making some epic videos, most notably the one that features him for absolutely none of it. I love this whole fucking 3 minutes and 25 seconds. The dancers in Bieber's Sorry, choreographed by the insanely talented Parris Goebel, are incredible. The sassiness of the moves, the sexiness of the attitudes and the lack of fucks given for the sentiment of the song makes this is big hit with me. However, after watching it for the 300th time it occurred to me that as fierce as all these ladies are, none of them are fierce and black.

Look, before you dive on me like we're in the Comments section of Jezebel.com, my issue with the lack of diversity in the dancers is due largely to the fact that the moves these chicks are busting out are ripped straight out of the dancehall and none of those chicks are likely to be Dancehall Queens. Here is my question, when does it stop being appreciation and become appropriation and why are we so quick to accuse white women, but not men of this behaviour?

From Kylie's cornrows to Native American headdresses at Cochella and Glasto it seems that there is little one can do these days to avoid offending someone and being accused of appropriation. So I find it suspect that while white ladies like Taylor Swift and Miley Cyrus get called out for appropriating black culture in their videos, Justin appears to have gotten off without so much as a cocked eyebrow.

Articles praising this video are abundant. The idea that it's empowering, due to the lack of penis and that it seems to be one big, sexy dance party are ideas I can get behind. However, you can't deny that there is something missing when you watch these ladies drop, wine and butterfly. These dance moves are deeply ingrained in Caribbean culture and to exclude women who represent this culture is irresponsible.

The dancers in the video are Kiwi choreographer, Goebel's crew. According to Rolling Stone, the mastermind of the video hasn't even met Bieber. "They asked me to create the video, I made it, I sent it to them, and they loved it. They just posted it." This is giving a whole hell of a lot of control to someone who isn't even associated with the artist. It also essentially means that Bieber's hands are clean, but I still expect more from someone whose fans cross all cultures. There must have been a moment that the man himself saw this visual representation of his music before the whole world did. Why not ask to add a few more dancers?

Bieber has long been a respected artist in the R&B community. So much so that since 2010 he's been nominated for and won multiple BET (Black Entertainment Television) awards. I'm happy to give Bieber credit for representing women of different shapes, sizes and ethnicities in this delightful romp of a video, but I won't be patting him on the back too hard just yet because I think this oversight is lazy.

Time and time again white women are called out for wanting to "steal" the best parts of a culture, but then not be prepared to align themselves with said culture's agendas. Us white vaginas are also painted as being insensitive to other cultures' struggles and I get it, our privilege does occasionally get in the way and we fail to see how our often good intentions are actually offensive. Well I'm calling out a double standard here.

If Miley and Taylor are unable to borrow from black culture and twerk without criticism, why is Bieber and his bevy of dancing beauties excluded from this kind of fallout? It's great to celebrate different cultures, but on this occasion I need to point out a bit of theft, no matter how petty some people may feel it is.  #Sorry.

The Big Television Sex Lie

I spend a lot of time watching TV. I spend more time than I have to spare watching TV. Why? Well it keeps me out of the gym and from writing my novel and all kinds of other unsavoury habits. Also, I like it. I like the pure escapism of calling bullshit on some really bad writing or getting engrossed in some that's excellent. 

Recently I was on a bit of a marathon watching Scandal and Homeland. Both shows have strong, yet flawed female characters as protagonists and anti-heroes. Both shows have a feminist edge, which I both respect and relate to. However, the one thing that shows like this get wrong, for all the progress that's been made for women on television, is the sex. 

There is a fair amount of sex in Homeland and more than a fair amount in Scandal. I LOVE that these intense characters enjoy their sexuality, but I do wonder how much they would enjoy braking free of the missionary marathon. I give Kerry Washington and Clare Danes HUGE props for not embodying to the whimpering, submissive trope we're all so familiar seeing, whom I can't identify with at all. However, I'd still really, really like to see a woman on television have some sex that doesn't end in a joint climax with each character breathing into the other's mouth. This is not to say that this is unrealistic for all women, but only 1/3 of women come from penetrative sex and I am not one of them. 

That's not to say it's sour grapes from me, but I feel that we still have a long way to go when it comes to exploring the complexities of sexuality on television. The most realistic depictions I have seen of sex have been in shows featuring same-sex relationships. Remember Queer as Folk? Damn, that was some fucking hot sex. Transparent? The women in that show who are having sex with other women are truly winning. The heteros? Not so much. So why is it OK to present gay or bisexual sex as nuanced and varied, but not for us breeders? 

You might be thinking to yourself, why the fuck does this even matter? Well it matters because it sets up an unrealistic standard for 2/3 of the world's women. I remember being with my first boyfriend and howling and panting like an idiot because that's what I thought I was supposed to do. Most of the time, when he came the show was over. Closed for business. I was growing equally frustrated in our relationship, often heading to the toilet to finish the job myself. This was not his fault, but for a very long time I thought there was something wrong with me. 

We are very quick to blame pornography for setting up women to be failures to their lovers, but I blame my failures completely on Beverly Hills 90210. I actually find a lot of pornography more palatable than mainstream portrayals of sex. At least you're more likely to see a tongue or a finger near some female genitals. 

I’m sure you can think of instances where I am completely wrong, but the two shows I am referencing, one on ABC and one on Showtime, both very different in premise and characters are not doing us ladies justice when it comes to showing us the kind of sex we’d like to be having and that creates a huge disconnect for me. Everything else about these shows, which are showing women as diverse and complicated characters is fantastic, but I want to see some face sitting on their part.

Just to conclude, here is a man fingering some fruit. Because yes. Take note, President Fitzgerald Grant.

Gunning for Change

I want to talk about guns. I want to talk about them because I want to understand the people who own them. I want to better understand the people who, despite tragedy after tragedy being caused by a gun, are adamant that the problem is not the guns.

It is the guns. I know this because I have lived in a country where there is easy access to firearms and one where there is not. Less people die here.  Less people die here because there are less people here, but also because there are less guns.

I’ve been asked, “but how will you defend yourself if someone breaks into your house?” Well I’ll tell you. I’ll fight the fucker and one of us will win, and maybe it will be him and he’ll take all my shit, but no one will die because neither of us will have a gun.

Riddle me this – is it really worth murdering someone for the shit you have in your house? Is it worth taking the life of someone who is taking your TV? I say “no.” Let the fucker have it and call your fucking insurance company and replace the goddamned TV. The overwhelming probability is that the person breaking into your house does not want to kill your family. So what you’re actually defending with your gun is your shit and I say no amount of shit is worth a life. Any life.

America runs on fear. It’s fear that makes people think they need a gun and it’s fear that causes people to use it. Kill or be killed, right? But who is trying to kill you? Who is this invisible, omnipresent threat to your safety and security?

I left the USA in 2003. I had moved to NYC the year before, shortly after 9/11, and seeing policemen wielding weapons half the size of their bodies at each of the subway stations freaked me the fuck out. At least it did at first. After a few months I became desensitized to it and it became normal. It also became commonplace for them to dig around in my bag before finally letting me run down the stairs to catch my train. National security and all that.

Nothing happened to make me leave. No incident that forced me to flee the country. I just decided that being that close to so many people on such high alert all armed to the teeth was not the best place for me to be. The energy in NYC is contagious and sometimes that’s not a good thing.

I love America and I love Americans. That is, until something like the most recent shooting happens in Oregon and I realize that many Americans genuinely feel like it's OK to shoot someone over a TV and that it’s actually their right to do so. People who I know are kind and decent and moral are more concerned with someone taking their guns away than they are preventing another tragedy like America’s 45^th mass shooting this year. Phrases like MY guns and MY rights littered the Internet in the aftermath of this most recent tragedy. But what about what’s best for the country as a whole? What about OUR gun problem and OUR safety and the safety of OUR children?

This chart, published by the Guardian newspaper, illustrates the 994 shootings in America in the last 1,004 days. It made my jaw and heart drop and sent a shiver down my spine.  All of these people are victims of America’s selfishness and America’s reluctance to acknowledge that they have a very real problem and a problem unique to America.

In the chart below (2007), you can see the number of guns owned per 100 people per country and you can see that America is not the only country that allows guns to be in the hands of many of its citizens.

However look at this chart (224-2010). Despite other countries owning nearly as many guns, America’s guns seem to cause the most deaths. This is terrifying to the rest of the world. Why, instead of joining us in reprehension, does America instead meet this data with attitude and arrogance? Why, when more innocent people have again lost their lives to such senseless violence does America hold not their children closer, but their guns instead?

I was moved by President Obama's speech after the Oregon murders; when he said that our reaction to this tragedy would be routine, he was correct. When he said that we've become numb, he was also completely accurate. However, I can't help but feel that's just not good enough. To acknowledge that the nation's reaction won't be proportionate to the tragedy itself is a cop-out. We deserve better, but we have to demand better. 

America has been bullied by the NRA for far too long. Regulate the fucking guns. Take the fucking guns away. Remember when states decided to tell us we couldn't smoke inside any more? Recall how outraged we thought people would be and how no one would comply? Well lo and behold, people did as they were told and as a result, fewer people are smoking cigarettes! Ta Dah! Why can't we do the same with guns? Restrict what kind of guns you can buy and who can buy them and see what happens? I bet the fucking earth won't implode and I bet a whole shitload less Americans will die. 

I'm no fucking scientist and this is just my humble opinion, but I'd like a more intelligent response about why guns are so ingrained in American culture than, "because Second Amendment." The belligerence is infuriating.  What is your gun is actually contributing to your life? If it's nothing, then why are you holding onto it? Why is your gun so important to you? I genuinely want to know. Because in the wake of this latest tragedy, I've had enough and I can't help but wonder how the right to own a gun is valued higher than the right to life. 

X Marks The Spot

I am staying in the country this weekend. I am making podcasts and sitting in country pubs and having a generally lovely time with a friend and her parents. I am working, I am creating and it feels really good. However, yesterday, for a brief moment, when I woke up from a heavily red wine-induced sleep I did not feel good. I felt terrible.

Contrary to what you may be thinking, this was not an effect of the delicious Rioja, but entirely to do with Facebook. Upon waking, I rubbed my eyes and did what I always do first thing in the morning. I looked at my phone. I noticed I had a few notifications that had come through in the night from a woman I went to school with a lifetime ago; someone I haven’t seen in person since 1992 and even then, we had little to say to each other. This piqued my curiosity greatly. I was keen to get into my account, but sadly, as I am vey much in the county, the wifi is sporadic at best.

Once my friend and I had eaten our yummy avocado breakfast and had begun to set up our makeshift studio in one of her parents’ many rooms, this one filled with old books and a relic of an exercise bike from the late 70’s, we managed to get a signal. I opened the tagged post and saw a lovely group photo of my school class taken in 1992. I searched the faces eagerly until I found my own, My mom had curled my hair that day and I was smiling like an idiot. Something about seeing myself, so small in my lace dress, amongst a sea of faces made my chest ache.

I saw I was tagged in a further photo and opened that as well. This was a smaller photo of my class; everyone’s image neatly contained in little boxes in little rows. Some were outlined by hand in green and pink and some were left alone, but in the top right corner, there was one person’s photo with a thick black X drawn through it. Before I zoomed in on the photo I wondered fleetingly if anyone from my class had died, as if that would be a logical reason for the X to be there. However, upon closer inspection I saw that it was me. It was my 12-year-old face that had been so viciously crossed out.

I stared at the image for a moment trying to figure out what I was seeing. I looked at the other faces too, smiling into the camera, oblivious that their neighbour had been defaced. I noticed that there was a code for the colours around some of the photos; green meant  “best” and pink meant “good.” This girl had very carefully selected those that were for colour coding and although some were left unmarked, which I assume meant she was ambivalent towards them, mine had earned its own, unique mark, which sadly, was not indicated in the key.

I am 35-years-old. I am successful and I am happy in my life. But seeing that X made me feel incredibly insecure and as confused as that 12-year-old girl once did. Seeing that photo made me incredibly sad. But not because someone drew an X over my face, but because at that time in my life I’d done something to cause that X to be drawn. I decided to comment on the photo, so as to acknowledge that I’d seen it and to apologise for whatever I did to make her 12-year-old self do that. She brushed it off and blamed herself for being “bitchy” as a child, which made me feel better, because weren’t we all? However two other people chimed in and labelled me as “terrifying” and “weird” and that’s really what I have the most trouble understanding.

If we, as adults, can’t look back on ourselves as children and forgive ourselves, what chance do we have? The fact that other grown women couldn’t leave the poster’s initial excuse alone is disturbing to me. Of course, I remember some of those pictured children too. The ones that ate garbage, the ones that pushed other kids down the stairs, the ones who threw metal garbage cans at teachers…But I would never, as a grown-ass woman, recall those children as anything other than children. My brain has developed since I was 12 and luckily, so has my capacity for compassion.

I wonder now what was going on for those kids at home and I know it couldn’t have been good. I know it wasn’t for me back then. I hope that as adults they have been able to find happiness and that they have forgiven themselves for being difficult children. I hope no one ever tries to make them feel shitty about himself or herself as an adult for being that damaged child. I hope that we can all just be a little kinder to each other. Because we all made it. We all survived and are here, with our scars from mean girls, with our memories of eating alone, with the pain of going to school in the clothes that didn’t fit and the fact that we made it is a miracle enough. So why try and make it harder? Let’s celebrate each other instead.

I could never have posted that picture on the Internet, not in the state it was published. Because that girl with the X through her face might have been battling depression, or have recently miscarried. She might be going though a divorce or having a hard time with her own children.  She may even be struggling with a terminal illness the way my mother was when that photo of me was taken. That woman, if it wasn’t me, might have seen that image and seen the unkind comments other adults made and feel like she still is that hated child and that she is alone. I could not take that chance just to share a picture, which is much more than just a picture. It is a record of a part of the woman’s life that posted it. It shows us who she was and it very much shows me who she still is.

To you who posted that picture, you have children and I hope you are raising them to be kind. I hope that they never experience unkindness themselves and I hope they don’t see that you’ve put that photo on the Internet in its current state, because that was not a nice thing to do. To those who don’t have any fond memories of me at that age, I’m sorry. I hope you are happy and that you have fulfilling lives that allow you to see that there is more to the world than just what you know. That there is more to everyone’s story, so please be more considered with your thoughts and words and let’s try and understand that everyone has their own shit. To all of you who ignored the fact that there was a giant X though my face, thank you. That was nice and I’d have done the same for you. I might have even asked her to take the photo down.

The Internet can be a wonderful thing. It’s a place where you can access immeasurable information and connect with people all over the world. But there is a dark side to it as well. It’s a place where things can live on forever. Where people can be cruel and people can be victimised. I’ve often been thankful that my childhood existed in a realm before this was ever possible, but alas, it appears the Internet can still expose my youthful vulnerabilities and exploit them long after childhood has passed. I’d like to ask that we, as adults who know better, don’t do this. I ask that we set a good example and that we behave better towards each other, because we are not children and because our humanity is our greatest gift. Let’s use it wisely and use it often.

Facebook Stalking your Family's Family.

Today is my brother’s birthday, he is 38. The last time I held a proper conversation with him was over 15 years ago and I’ve made no secret of my sadness about our disconnect. I’m still clueless about what it is that repels my brother about me. It’s not like I live nearby and would be a nuisance, it’s not like I’ve ever asked him for money or for anything, in fact it’s the opposite. I could go on and on about how nice I think I am or how it’s him who’s missing out, but that’s just bullshit bravado really sad and dickish people tell themselves for comfort when no one wants to hang with them.  

I’ve been on Facebook since 2007 and never once stalked anyone. I’m not curious enough about anyone from my past to troll their profile and see if their wife is prettier than me, she won’t be. Or if someone’s life is better than mine, it won’t be. I am very secure in both my skin and the life I happily occupy. However, this changed last year when I watched Frozen for the first time. Those of you who follow me and read my blog will be familiar with my total emotional destruction watching those two sisters go from being strangers to being best friends. Anyway, I blame Disney for turning me in to a creepy creeper. 

My brother blocked me on Facebook forever ago. We never even made contact on it; he just blocked my ass from jump. Sad times. So I wasn’t ever able to stalk him personally, so I had to go for the next best thing- his wife. Yes I know that I sound like a total serial killer. If the shoe fits…  

I know people who know my brother’s wife. I’ve never asked them about her because really, why would knowing anything about her make my situation any easier? It wouldn’t. I’ve never met her although apparently once we were in the same place at the same time a few years ago and she walked right past me, pushing my niece in her stroller and neither of us were any the wiser. It took a mutual friend to point out what had occurred, “your brother’s wife and your niece just walked past you.” 

“Oh,” I said, bemused, “did they?” I swiftly went about my business careful not to let on how much those words felt like a kick to the stomach. 

The truth is, at that time, I wouldn’t have know her if she walked up and slapped me in the face, which is why shortly after that non-encounter I looked her up on Facebook just so I’d know what she looked like and that if I were ever back in town and saw her again, I’d be able to say “hello.” 

Man she is adorable! Small with long brown hair and beautiful sun-kissed skin, she looked kind and I was really pleased to see that she looked so happy and I deduced that my brother must be happy too. I closed the page and that was that…until it wasn’t. 

Last year, after Frozen blew my heart open like a hand grenade, I looked again, but I didn’t stop at just her profile picture. Delighted that her settings were not set to private I looked through her albums; desperate for some kind of connection to the brother I’d lost to long ago. I felt kinds gross, but I was not disappointed with what I found. 

I pored over photos of their gorgeous daughter, which were abundant, and marvelled at how like him she looked. The killer shot to the heart was the album filled with their exquisite wedding photos; him towering over her comically in a tuxedo, dwarfing her in her stunning ivory dress with not a hair out of place. I felt as though I’d opened Pandora’s Box and may not be able to shut it.  

I couldn’t stop looking at how lovely they were. I was touched by their obvious joy at being together. He deserved happiness and it looked to me like he’d found it. Eventually I did manage to tear myself away from the images and haven’t been back. For awhile I thought that was enough, that now that I’d seen he was OK, I could move on and let it go (Frozen reference intended). 

However I’m not sure that I can. I want him to know that I’m here, we’re all here and if he’d just stop being a stubborn asshole we might actually be friends. I hear he’s had another baby too. Congrats! Someone please tell him that for me.  

Sorry for stalking you, my brother’s wife. I meant well and hope you’ll forgive me.

Fake Bitch Slaps for Real Bitches

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Being Kind is not About Race

By now I think most people have seen the video taken on a train in Australia where a young woman came to the defence of a young Mulsim couple being verbally abused by fellow Australian passengers. If you haven't you can watch it here, or spend more time on the Internet, not enjoying this gorgeous weather like me.

Now that you've seen that vile display of xenophobia, let me ask you, would you intervene? The young woman, Stacey Eden is being hailed as a hero for standing up for the young couple, but some think that by rushing in, she took the opportunity away for the couple to defend themselves.

In this interesting, if not ridiculous article, Ashitha Nagesh says that Eden must be suffering from a 'saviour complex' and that her intervention was not an attempt to silence the couple's attackers, but to 'save the day' because she is white.

Call me crazy, but I don't think her race has shit-all to do what she did. I think that she's just the kind of person who springs to action if she sees something inexcusable happening, especially when the idiots doing the lambasting were apparently speaking for Australia and she certainly didn't agree with them.

 If you see something, say something. I'd like to believe that doesn't just apply to left luggage. This society is so hell-bent on being annoyed about shit that this girl's well-intended action has led to this reporter criticising her motives. What a sad fucking take on humanity.

Would it have done the couple any good to stand up for themselves? It may have made things worse, and damn Eden for not letting us find out, right? But as you can see from the video, it wouldn't have made things any better. Those bigots were happy to keep fighting, even after Eden's sweet, but juvenile advice: 'If you can't say something nice, than don't say anything.'

I will always stand up for you and I am white. Whether that makes me an asshole, I don't know, but it certainly is better than the alternative of doing nothing. It's the people who do nothing that perpetuate this kind of shitty behaviour towards one another.  

Whether you are Muslim, black, white, Christian, Jewish, hell, even if you're a Scientologist and I see you getting shit on by someone, I will be on your side because that's the right thing to do, not because I'm white and I think you need me.

Cheer the hell up, Nagesh. I applaud this young woman for standing up to these racist idiots. If someone was on a train in the UK, where you live, telling me that I don't belong here and that I'm surely going to force everyone give up their pork products and shellfish because I'm Jewish, would you not intervene? Would you let those people speak for you? I sure as hell hope not.

I hope you'd tell them where to go, just like Eden did. And I sure as hell wouldn't call you names for daring to get involved. I'd shake the hell out of your hand because that's what people do.