One of my Myspace friends alerted me to the fact that Asexuality: The Making of Movement now has a trailer up on Youtube. I watched all 8 minutes of it, and I was very surprised by what I saw. Why was so much of it made up of already-aired TV spots? Why does it ask "come on, is asexuality for real?" Why are "sexperts" included when what they're saying about asexuality is so obviously false? (An AVENite once called these people "modern day flat-Earthers", and I think that's perfectly apt.) I really didn't like how the trailer seemed to be setting up a "do we exist" exploration. That's the same thing that Montel and The View did on their shows, and I don't think it's constructive. The reason I liked the KPFA show so much is because we were already operating on the assumption that our identities were valid. And after seeing the trailer for this film, I'm hesitant about continuing to be involved with it. You can see the trailer here. What do you think? Since the film needs asexuals as subjects, it can't really be made without our consent. So what, if anything, should be we do?
(Also, I have to comment on the music, because that's just how I do. "How Soon is Now"? Are you kidding me? Please tell me that choice was because Morrissey is an asexual icon, and not because our ability to be human and loved is somehow in question.)
Monday, March 31, 2008
Sunday, March 30, 2008
No Easy Street
Hey hey! I found an overtly asexual Psychedelic Furs song! Ever noticed how you know the A-sides of records (or the first half of albums) so much better than the B-sides? Maybe it's just me, but this song had been hidden in plain sight. Not as anthemic as "Love My Way", but intriguing nonetheless. Here are the lyrics, with the pertinent sections in bold, for you busy folk:
"No Easy Street"
by The Psychedelic Furs (From Forever Now, 1982)
9-9-9
the police don't come
here on easy street
all the boys in their blue suits
are lying in the heat
you got no reaction
coming down my hall
you had no attraction
for anyone at all
all the dogs are out today
running in the sun
back in the litter
the morning never comes
you got no reaction
knocking on my door
you had no attraction
for anyone at all
the day goes at the factory
i should be happy look at me
it's definitely no easy street
you got no reaction
coming through my door
you had no attraction
for anyone at all
i can see you in the plastic town
that an actor sees
i can see you stuck inside of this cage with me
you'll cry like a baby
you cry like a bird
you cry like a lady
you cry like a girl
on easy street
you'll cry like a baby
you cry like a bird
you cry like a lady
you cry like a girl
on easy street
Thanks to Urban Dictionary, I found out that 9-9-9 is the equivalent of 911 in England. I still don't know what the heck it means to "cry like a bird", although we all know that Prince was also able to view this activity.
As creepy as this will sound, an internet search turned up nothing on the band's sexual proclivities. Some individuals seemed to think Richard Butler, the Furs' frontman, is gay, but I couldn't find any evidence of that (as far as you can find evidence for someone's orientation on the internet). There wasn't anything about his sexuality on Wikipedia, although the W did say that he was married at one point and had a kid. So anyway, kudos to the Furs for being ambiguous. Perhaps the band just knew an asexual person and decided to write a song about her. Stranger things have happened...
"No Easy Street"
by The Psychedelic Furs (From Forever Now, 1982)
9-9-9
the police don't come
here on easy street
all the boys in their blue suits
are lying in the heat
you got no reaction
coming down my hall
you had no attraction
for anyone at all
all the dogs are out today
running in the sun
back in the litter
the morning never comes
you got no reaction
knocking on my door
you had no attraction
for anyone at all
the day goes at the factory
i should be happy look at me
it's definitely no easy street
you got no reaction
coming through my door
you had no attraction
for anyone at all
i can see you in the plastic town
that an actor sees
i can see you stuck inside of this cage with me
you'll cry like a baby
you cry like a bird
you cry like a lady
you cry like a girl
on easy street
you'll cry like a baby
you cry like a bird
you cry like a lady
you cry like a girl
on easy street
Thanks to Urban Dictionary, I found out that 9-9-9 is the equivalent of 911 in England. I still don't know what the heck it means to "cry like a bird", although we all know that Prince was also able to view this activity.
As creepy as this will sound, an internet search turned up nothing on the band's sexual proclivities. Some individuals seemed to think Richard Butler, the Furs' frontman, is gay, but I couldn't find any evidence of that (as far as you can find evidence for someone's orientation on the internet). There wasn't anything about his sexuality on Wikipedia, although the W did say that he was married at one point and had a kid. So anyway, kudos to the Furs for being ambiguous. Perhaps the band just knew an asexual person and decided to write a song about her. Stranger things have happened...
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Culture of Lonliness
Last night, I saw "God Grew Tired of Us", the less ponderous documentary on the Lost Boys of Sudan. The film followed a few of these boys, now young men, who were orphaned in the Sudanese civil war. After living in refugee camps for over 10 years, they were relocated to the US, where they suddenly needed to figure out everything from how to use an alarm clock to what potato chips are. You might think this has bugger-all to do with asexuality, or even pop culture for that matter. But, I'm not so sure. Once the Boys got to America, and for the rest of the film after that, I just couldn't stop thinking back to Women Who May Never Marry. Sure, maybe a small object got lodged in my brain, messing up the usual neural paths. But, "God Grew Tired" just seemed to be giving further insight into why forming the relationships we want can be so hard. And that's fair game for me, I think.
Once the Boys were living in their American apartments, their different work schedules meant that they could go weeks without seeing each other. One of them said something like, "I'm so lonely, but that's just a part of American culture I need to get used to." I've never thought about this before, but when seen through the eyes of an outsider, our urban American culture seems absolutely demented. To wake up at dawn, go to an office to perform meaningless tasks with near-strangers, then go back to your apartment to distract yourself from the unpleasantness of having to go back and do it all again tomorrow? How many of us live like this, and how healthy is it? Is herding cattle all day with your entire family (a viable enterprise in Sudan) a vast improvement? At the risk of sounding like Belle from "Beauty and the Beast" (although, that is my favorite Disney movie), there must be something more!
I wish someone had told me that being asexual doesn't mean you'll be alone (although, I can do the next best thing-- tell you). That actually, it's the fault of studio apartments, commuting, Netflix and Amazon.com. I think that people on the margins-- be they queer folks or refugees-- are in a good position to poke around and think about new options for our culture. Maybe I'm just extremely, stubbornly communal, and this stuff doesn't bother anyone else. I was the only person I knew that preferred living in college dorms to our off-campus house. I'd say it was some sort of A thing, but there are certainly As who have little or no desire for community. All I know is that the longer I live alone, the more I miss living with a group, whether family or friends. Herding cattle is, however, optional.
Less serious post next time; Scout's honor.
Once the Boys were living in their American apartments, their different work schedules meant that they could go weeks without seeing each other. One of them said something like, "I'm so lonely, but that's just a part of American culture I need to get used to." I've never thought about this before, but when seen through the eyes of an outsider, our urban American culture seems absolutely demented. To wake up at dawn, go to an office to perform meaningless tasks with near-strangers, then go back to your apartment to distract yourself from the unpleasantness of having to go back and do it all again tomorrow? How many of us live like this, and how healthy is it? Is herding cattle all day with your entire family (a viable enterprise in Sudan) a vast improvement? At the risk of sounding like Belle from "Beauty and the Beast" (although, that is my favorite Disney movie), there must be something more!
I wish someone had told me that being asexual doesn't mean you'll be alone (although, I can do the next best thing-- tell you). That actually, it's the fault of studio apartments, commuting, Netflix and Amazon.com. I think that people on the margins-- be they queer folks or refugees-- are in a good position to poke around and think about new options for our culture. Maybe I'm just extremely, stubbornly communal, and this stuff doesn't bother anyone else. I was the only person I knew that preferred living in college dorms to our off-campus house. I'd say it was some sort of A thing, but there are certainly As who have little or no desire for community. All I know is that the longer I live alone, the more I miss living with a group, whether family or friends. Herding cattle is, however, optional.
Less serious post next time; Scout's honor.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Women Who May Never Marry (Parte Dos)
If they paid me the Big Bucks (oh! One day!), I would feel obligated to explain to you the unexplainable. But since I'm poor and confused, I'll just be honest:
I really don't know what to make of the last 2 chapters of Women Who.
One of these, "Making Peace With Yourself", exhorts women to stop blaming themselves for the cultural and economic factors that have made marriage basically unnecessary. Good point. Then, Wolfe launches into a sort of quiz/checklist, that's supposed to help you accept yourself as you are. As much as I'm a sucker for helping myself, it does seem a little odd to throw self-help in right at the end. Add to this the user-unfriendliness of the method (is it a quiz? Flowchart? Outline?), and it's clear that I may not be making peace with myself through these particular means.
The last chapter talks about how to construct your own community outside of heterosexual monogamy. While this is, again, a good idea, Wolfe spends way too much time heralding polygamy. While polygamy (and I think most people would prefer to know it as polyamory) may work for some, I still think that it's not the ideal solution for most of us. Then, Wolfe ends with a section on "Extended Families of Choice", which I really do think applies to all of us.
So, Women Who is uncompromisingly uneven. But, it makes me feel better to know that I'm not the only person who may never marry-- and that whether I marry or not isn't what my happiness will hinge on. Like the misguided women profiled in the book, I thought being asexual would kill my chances for ever marrying. But apparently, my orientation is the least of my problems compared to all the social forces that have made successfully marrying today almost impossible. This is pretty much the first century in history when people don't have to marry as a business contract, but are supposed to depend fully on their spouse for their every need. We've ditched extended families in favor of one true loves, and it's not working well for most of us. Could it be that we As are lucky to have an out? Or at least, an opportunity to discover this?
I really don't know what to make of the last 2 chapters of Women Who.
One of these, "Making Peace With Yourself", exhorts women to stop blaming themselves for the cultural and economic factors that have made marriage basically unnecessary. Good point. Then, Wolfe launches into a sort of quiz/checklist, that's supposed to help you accept yourself as you are. As much as I'm a sucker for helping myself, it does seem a little odd to throw self-help in right at the end. Add to this the user-unfriendliness of the method (is it a quiz? Flowchart? Outline?), and it's clear that I may not be making peace with myself through these particular means.
The last chapter talks about how to construct your own community outside of heterosexual monogamy. While this is, again, a good idea, Wolfe spends way too much time heralding polygamy. While polygamy (and I think most people would prefer to know it as polyamory) may work for some, I still think that it's not the ideal solution for most of us. Then, Wolfe ends with a section on "Extended Families of Choice", which I really do think applies to all of us.
So, Women Who is uncompromisingly uneven. But, it makes me feel better to know that I'm not the only person who may never marry-- and that whether I marry or not isn't what my happiness will hinge on. Like the misguided women profiled in the book, I thought being asexual would kill my chances for ever marrying. But apparently, my orientation is the least of my problems compared to all the social forces that have made successfully marrying today almost impossible. This is pretty much the first century in history when people don't have to marry as a business contract, but are supposed to depend fully on their spouse for their every need. We've ditched extended families in favor of one true loves, and it's not working well for most of us. Could it be that we As are lucky to have an out? Or at least, an opportunity to discover this?
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Women Who May Never Marry (Part One)
When I opened Women Who May Never Marry (by Leanna Wolfe, 1993), I felt much like I did when I discovered Kinsey's "X". We're shown such a limited range of colors: Single (and miserable) or married (and content), zero though six on the Kinsey scale, and so on. But when other possibilities bust open, it's like being transported to the paint section of Home Depot, full of colors you're never heard of (Moonbeam! Curry!). Suddenly, your old white walls are glaringly obvious, now that you've seen all your other options.
In this spirit, I think that everyone, male and female alike, should check out Women Who. It's certainly incomplete, and boasts the worst cover art I've ever seen. But, despite its weaknesses, I think the book is very valuable. As Wolfe tells us at least 10 times, she is a social anthropologist. As such, she discusses trends in marriage and singlehood from veritable pre-history, up into the 90's, and into the future. She gives examples as diverse as spinster suffragettes and unmarried Mayan women living in extended families. And don't think women have all the fun-- there's a long chapter on unmarried men, and much discussion of societal forces in general.
There's also about a page and a half under the heading "Women Who Don't Have Sex". Yes, I know what we're all thinking here. But, these women are either scared of AIDS, living "lonely and often sexless" lives, or "have been damaged by sex" (125). Wolfe must have heard of asexuality in some respect, as she uses the word in a discussion of polyamorous relationships (173). She might have needed to go out of her way to find asexual women to talk to, but I wished she had, as we seem extremely relevant to the topic.
[Above: Susan B. Anthony. Spinster, Badass.]
My favorite little part of the book so far is the section on Victorian-era spinsters. Louisa May Alcott is quoted as saying:
"Spinsters are a very useful, happy, independent race, never more so than now, when all progressions are open to them and honor, fame, or fortune are bravely won by any gifted members of the sisterhood" (20).
I did a double-take as I read this-- I'd never expected to see "spinster" and "happy" in the same sentence. But apparently, spinsters in Alcott's day could achieve much more than married women were able to. If you were a woman devoted to a cause, it could behoove you to remain single. Susan B. Anthony, one of the premier spinsters mentioned, had this to say about womens' suffrage, although it could just as well apply to being an uncompromisingly unmarried woman today:
"Cautious, careful people, always casting about to preserve their reputation and social standing, never can bring about a reform. Those who are really in earnest must be willing to be anything or nothing in the world's estimation, and publicly and privately, in season and out, avow their sympathy with despised and persecuted ideas and their advocates, and bear the consequences."
(Found on about.com)
Next time, Women Who teaches you "how to be happy". Fo reals. Apparently, it's that easy.
In this spirit, I think that everyone, male and female alike, should check out Women Who. It's certainly incomplete, and boasts the worst cover art I've ever seen. But, despite its weaknesses, I think the book is very valuable. As Wolfe tells us at least 10 times, she is a social anthropologist. As such, she discusses trends in marriage and singlehood from veritable pre-history, up into the 90's, and into the future. She gives examples as diverse as spinster suffragettes and unmarried Mayan women living in extended families. And don't think women have all the fun-- there's a long chapter on unmarried men, and much discussion of societal forces in general.
There's also about a page and a half under the heading "Women Who Don't Have Sex". Yes, I know what we're all thinking here. But, these women are either scared of AIDS, living "lonely and often sexless" lives, or "have been damaged by sex" (125). Wolfe must have heard of asexuality in some respect, as she uses the word in a discussion of polyamorous relationships (173). She might have needed to go out of her way to find asexual women to talk to, but I wished she had, as we seem extremely relevant to the topic.
[Above: Susan B. Anthony. Spinster, Badass.]
My favorite little part of the book so far is the section on Victorian-era spinsters. Louisa May Alcott is quoted as saying:
"Spinsters are a very useful, happy, independent race, never more so than now, when all progressions are open to them and honor, fame, or fortune are bravely won by any gifted members of the sisterhood" (20).
I did a double-take as I read this-- I'd never expected to see "spinster" and "happy" in the same sentence. But apparently, spinsters in Alcott's day could achieve much more than married women were able to. If you were a woman devoted to a cause, it could behoove you to remain single. Susan B. Anthony, one of the premier spinsters mentioned, had this to say about womens' suffrage, although it could just as well apply to being an uncompromisingly unmarried woman today:
"Cautious, careful people, always casting about to preserve their reputation and social standing, never can bring about a reform. Those who are really in earnest must be willing to be anything or nothing in the world's estimation, and publicly and privately, in season and out, avow their sympathy with despised and persecuted ideas and their advocates, and bear the consequences."
(Found on about.com)
Next time, Women Who teaches you "how to be happy". Fo reals. Apparently, it's that easy.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Scrabbalicious
Could it be? Could we have our own silly stereotype? Thanks to a recent article in The London Paper, in which a pair of A newlyweds played Scrabble with friends on their wedding night, the idea might be going around that we harbor an unholy love for Scrabble. And really, I couldn't be happier. I can't wait for the day when we have to start disproving our stereotypes, since that would mean people are actually aware of our existence. I can't say I like Scrabble...I'll play it to be social, but it takes forever and I usually get pummeled anyway. But the point is, it doesn't matter what I like, because this is a stereotype! I guess our collective good looks and rapier wits haven't caught on yet...
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Love is a Milk Truck
Ah, the Milk Truck Ending, a demented relation of the Deus Ex Machina. My high school English teacher coined this term, "Milk Truck Ending". Apparently, a kid had written a story in which, right at the end and completely at random, a milk truck ran over all the characters. Nothing's more frustrating than a story with real potential and a milk truck ending. This is what happened with Any Place I Hang My Hat, a 2004 novel by Susan Isaacs. I guess I knew it was chick lit, but a few things led me to perhaps think otherwise. First, the chick in question is on a (feisty and snarky) search for her family roots, not necessarily romance. There was also the heftiness of the book (pushing 400 pages) and the stellar reviews from the Washington Post, Seattle Times, et al. But men are, apparently, the new milk trucks.
Ensconced (far from happily) on MUNI, I reached page 370 out of 379. (Spoilers ahead.) Our heroine was just so close to ending the book single and learning to be happy about it. I said to myself, "if she ends up with a man in these last 9 pages, I will throw up." Well, she didn't only end up with a man, she was engaged to be married, all within those few last pages. (Okay, it was someone she knew, but still...) I didn't throw up, because I'm not able to will myself to actually do so. But I did feel very disappointed. Our chick had endured way too much to be handed such a played-out ending.
We all know that marriage isn't the end to anyone's story, unless you have an unfortunate accident on the dance floor. We know there are other options, but we never see them. I have no problem with people in stories getting married, but marriage is always presented as the only real option. And this is probably why I'm so unclear on what the other options are. I demand to see more options in my pop culture! And if these chicks end up with men, I want (nay, demand!) to see them really choosing between different men. Why is the first man we see almost always the one our heroine ends up with? Is it the cause of brevity, or just another insinuation that any guy is better than none at all? You can probably guess which one I think it is, and brevity probably isn't the reason that 50% of marriages are ending in divorce. That may sound depressing, but our idea of compulsory marriage is depressing indeed. That's why we need to get rid of it ASAP.
Thank goodness Women Who May Never Marry is next on my list...after I define about 20 terms that I can't seem to finish Gender Trouble without knowing, that is...
Ensconced (far from happily) on MUNI, I reached page 370 out of 379. (Spoilers ahead.) Our heroine was just so close to ending the book single and learning to be happy about it. I said to myself, "if she ends up with a man in these last 9 pages, I will throw up." Well, she didn't only end up with a man, she was engaged to be married, all within those few last pages. (Okay, it was someone she knew, but still...) I didn't throw up, because I'm not able to will myself to actually do so. But I did feel very disappointed. Our chick had endured way too much to be handed such a played-out ending.
We all know that marriage isn't the end to anyone's story, unless you have an unfortunate accident on the dance floor. We know there are other options, but we never see them. I have no problem with people in stories getting married, but marriage is always presented as the only real option. And this is probably why I'm so unclear on what the other options are. I demand to see more options in my pop culture! And if these chicks end up with men, I want (nay, demand!) to see them really choosing between different men. Why is the first man we see almost always the one our heroine ends up with? Is it the cause of brevity, or just another insinuation that any guy is better than none at all? You can probably guess which one I think it is, and brevity probably isn't the reason that 50% of marriages are ending in divorce. That may sound depressing, but our idea of compulsory marriage is depressing indeed. That's why we need to get rid of it ASAP.
Thank goodness Women Who May Never Marry is next on my list...after I define about 20 terms that I can't seem to finish Gender Trouble without knowing, that is...
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