Events of the past week have crystalized a number of feelings inside me, and rather than do another “Fuck Canada Day” post (see my post on July 1, 2009) I thought I’d do something that I’ve meant to do for a long time.
I seem to need containment these days, or my blogs will just be a long scream of inarticulate anger. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, it just doesn’t make very interesting reading.
Canada’s anthem.
Those of us born here are taught it in school. Those who come here from elsewhere learn it. Or else. Those who are Aboriginal are probably offended by the whole thing. As is anyone who calls themselves an ally.
O Canada, our home and native land
Many people have taken this line to pieces, most popularly, “our home ON native land”. But I still have a problem with this. Who is “our”? Anglos? The broader category “white folks”? Are white folks still the centre of the fucking universe? For fuck’s sake. And “home”, such a loaded term. Ward Churchill talked about colonization in a very personal way. Someone comes to your house, sits down and then says “Hey I live here now. Get the fuck out.” And when you protest you’re either taken out of your home, or killed. Or both.
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“What I Learned from Preston Manning and William Shatner”
Given that I’m neither a father nor a son, my understanding of issues facing fathers is pretty miniscule.
But yesterday, Friday June 18, the Globe and Mail featured two articles, one written by Preston Manning, the other about William Shatner. As my more devoted readership would already know, reading the newspaper almost always enrages me, and no good can come of it, except maybe a new blog post.
1.
So, first, Preston Manning’s father-worship piece.
Deep cleansing breath.
I haven’t read such an emotional, yet fascinatingly cold-hearted suck up/ praise/ celebration of white ruling-class masculinity in a very long time. Certainly not something at least mediated by quotes and footnotes and a feminist/ anti-racist/ post-modern critique.
This undiluted stuff is pretty harsh, astringent. Like Old Spice mixed with Liquid Drano. Basically, a bio-hazard.
Preston mentions, rather off handedly, that he was one year old the year his father was first elected premier. What follows is a sad, disconnected piece praising his father’s political “achievements”, but demonstrating nothing about who his father was as a person, since of course, Preston doesn’t have any access to that information or experience. Nor did he care to, apparently.
By Slumberjack
Gary Coleman R.I.P.
My interest in the show during the late 70s had little to do with the ‘what you talking bout’ routine, as entertaining as that was, but as a young male teenager in the late 70s, admittedly it had more to do with Dana Plato’s tight jeans.
At any rate, the concept of a white benefactor taking in two black kids from the ‘ghetto’ and raising them in an atmosphere that was portrayed as better and more sophisticated certainly fell through the crevices of youth at the time.
The clichéd notion of a sitcom, whereby proper grounding in the manners and etiquette of whiteness through practice, trial and error of course, [there'd be no lame punch lines without it] could transform two poor black kids into presentable facsimiles of whiteness in harmony with their surroundings didn’t reveal itself for what it was until later in life.
The sadness that comes with the passing of a human being is compounded by the realization that he was discarded by the corporate entertainment industry when he was determined to be of no further use to them.
This is the everyday reality of corporatism, where its cruel ramifications are more often than not first visited upon those who are disadvantaged in this society from the outset, regardless of the station they might achieve in life.
So, the new Star trek movie, the reboot of the original series. It seems that the Spock/ Uhura (S/U) relationship (”ship”), and particularly the interracial kisses that were depicted (gasp! cry! omg!), have caused a huge stir in the mostly white fan base.
Luckily for the anti-racist crowd, there’s a equally nerdy POC Star Trek 2.0 fan base out there, who have done closer, more intricate, and more detailed readings of TOS than even I thought imaginable. These folks also rock with AR analysis. Two of my worlds, in one. My life is complete.
Via racialicious.com, I found ankhesen-mie.
So, first up is a quiz. A small 16 question quiz about your response to the S/U ship (just getting into the lingo here, folks). I’ve learned tons about ways to present materials to folks who are struggling to get it, or resisting getting it, and please note the writer doesn’t use the term “racist” ever. But people sure respond as if s/he did.
http://ankhesen-mie.livejournal.com/24009.html
The first seven questions: 1) Do you feel horrified when you see Spock kiss a woman who looks like Uhura, and don’t know why? 2) Do you look at Zoe Saldana and feel you “just can’t trust her” but can’t say why? 3) Do you think Uhura’s not a very feminine character, but just can’t say why? 4) Would you prefer Spock to be with Christine Chapel over Uhura? 5) Do you think the Spock/Uhura relationship—in the story—is controversial because of Uhura? 6) Do you consider yourself a “die-hard” Trek fan but still don’t agree with the pairing? 7) Have you watched all things Trek—shows, films, interviews, etc. pertaining to this cast—and still think this pairing “came out of nowhere”?
…..
Next up, a follow-up blog post detailing the various objectors to the first post. Their responses have been nicely organized for us: The Poor Taste Reaction, The Uncomfortable Reaction, etc. Funny, cute and smart! This is so my new favourite blog!
http://ankhesen-mie.livejournal.com/24071.html
I guess it’s time to ‘fess up about a quirk of mine.
We all have those things, those pop culture things, for which we have to turn off our critical brains, switch off our rocking analysis and simply be entertained. Some friends of mine love action movies, some love sci fi/fantasy. As a Trekkie I understand. But one of my escapes has been my shameful secret until now.
I like rom coms.
Worse, I like schlocky Hollywood-style BAD rom coms.
Please don’t judge me.
Amongst my favourite rom com actors is Sandra Bullock, so when I saw my first ad for the movie “The Proposal” (while watching the Oscars earlier this year), I knew I would see it.
It received horrible reviews, so I knew what I was getting into when me and my friend A made our date for dinner and a movie last night.
Oh the lack of humanity.
The “plot” is that they work in publishing, hardworking sincere “everyman” Andrew is bitchy, mean Margaret’s executive assistant. A few early scenes show us what a horrible person she is, and that everyone hates her, including him. When she comes into the office people text things like “It’s here” and “The witch is on her broom”. She’s a Canadian and learns she’s about to be deported. She decides to force Andrew to marry her, and in a moment of faking the legitimacy of their relationship in front of the immigration officer, invites herself to his family’s celebration (in Alaska) of his grandmother’s birthday.
Bla bla they fall in love by the end.
Great. Sounds like a lovely waste of time for me and A. Turn off the brain and away we go.
But. There was racism.
