Adam miller's Open Salon Blog

Free Tampons

Wed, 11 Nov 2009 11:11:52 -0500

My wife related a story to me the other day. When she was living at home, her father had asked that she buy her own sanitary pads. Furious, she had told him they were no different than toilet paper -- she didn't have a choice in how much she bled, after all.

So, being a woman means assuming some extra burdens. Carrying a child is foremost of these. The "right to choose," as it's now called, has come into the limelight again thanks to two nasty ammendments added to the health bill in the House -- in particular the Stupak ammendment, named after the conservative congressman.

But you know all this. My purpose in writing this post is to draw attention to the language we use to discuss abortion, and why it's all wrong. The movement should have never been called "pro-choice," because this obscures the core issue at hand -- a woman's citizenship. Just as when the women received the right to vote, the abortion issue is a women's citizenship issue. If a woman cannot conveniently and freely receive an abortion, she is not a full citizen. For that matter, her birth control should be free as well (they already suffer the unfair burden of having to take the stuff). If you're a man and don't see how that benefits you, you're an idiot.

Let me relate another anecdote. A coworker of mine recently had a child. Maternity leave, as you may know, is quite short in this country. Her situation is such that working from home would be of great benefit to her, and given the nature of our work, entirely feasible. In fact, several employees work from home for various reasons. But she's afraid to confront our boss, because she too timid to ruffle anyone's feathers. Never mind that her child's health is at stake.

As a woman, my coworker is granted all the rights of any other American worker, though not so many extra rights to accomodate her femininity (in this case the fact that she is a mother). What's worse, she doesn't feel entitled to any "preferential treatment." Again, never mind that she is saddled with the burden of raising a child.

By the way -- everyone at my job is more or less liberal. Despite this, our notions of responsibility are hardly communal. My coworker's baby is her problem, right? If she wants to take a year or two off, she shouldn't burden the company, which needs to be profitable and productive, right? Sadly, we (by which I mean men and women0 are content to let women quietly deal with their womenly problems, often for petty reasons. Maybe we're uncomfortable with breast feeding or buying tampons. Maybe we think a company should be allowed to shirk the expense of employing a pregnant woman. Of course, some truly believe a woman is a woman first, and a citizen second, often for religious reasons.

The fact that simply being a woman -- an act necessary for the future of our species, not to mention our present happiness -- is a quandry, is obscene. Though women have decades ago gained citizenship, it is still hard to be a woman and a citizen -- femininity must still be suppressed to succeed, or feminity allowed and success abandoned. This problem extends beyond concrete issues like abortion -- it is a matter of gender identity. But, insofar as politics is concerned, the abortion issue has to begin and end with the question: Do we consider women to be full citizens?

So You Think You Can Dance: The Only Humane Reality Show

Wed, 4 Nov 2009 12:11:19 -0500

Reality TV is notoriously awful. Worse, it's nasty. Project Runway, for example, features some truly talented designers. But the way the show is spliced together, you'd think they were all out to tear each other to shreds. Maybe they are. The judges are worse -- Heidi Klum in particular revels in hyperbole, calling a pretty dress with some extra zippers "completely over the top" and snorting/snickering. That's what passes for constructive criticism these days?

American Idol, of course, holds the crown for nastiness and hyperbole. It's not just what the judges do and say, though, but the spirit of the show that wreaks. It's fame-centric, mired in pleasing the least common denominator.

So You Think You Can Dance was created as the mid-summer fill-in for idol. It was never meant to succeed on any grand scale. And yet, now occupying a prime fall slot, the show's proving that not only does it make most excellent television, that it can succeed without falling back on any of the gimmickery that plagues most reality television.

Let's start with the dancing. Whereas Idol is conservative, to the point where Adam Lambert's Queen rehashes were considered avant garde by the judges, Dance is with it. I'm into the music scene in a big way (you know, I read Pitchfork and stuff), and am always impressed when I hear a remix of some song that's been out for a week. The dances themselves are wild -- to the point where you could see some of those moves being imitated in the clubs (where as everything on Idol is an imitation). In short, Dance respects our intelligence, sophistication, and emotional and sexual maturity.

Last night's numbers included a gospel revival, Van Gough painting come to life to haunt the painter, Argentinian tango, hip hop tennis match, and an emotionally wrought modern dance, among others. During a racecar/mechanic-themed hip hop number last night, Karen Hauer stood on top of Kevin Hunte's thighs and proceeded to shake her booty in his face -- making Kevin the stripper stage and the recipient of the lap dance all in one. Totally club-worthy. Of course there are more, shall we say, refined numbers as well, but you really never know what to expect.

Most important, though, are the shows judges. Nigel in particular could have imitated Simon Cowell. But he doesn't. He never overreacts with outrage to some remark by a contestant. He focuses on the postives, or gives spcecific, technical criticism (so that, you know, the viewers can actually learn something). Best of all, he's not jaded -- he will cry if he's moved by a dance. Same goes for every other judge on the show, guest judges included.

Finally, Dance shows that inane footage of contestants outside the competition is unnecessary to capture personal drama. Phillip Attmore, one of the two contestants cut last night, acknowledged that his father had passed away the previous week, and that roughly half the contestants had attended the funeral with him. Everyone, the stoic Cat Deeley included, was sobbing.

With Dance we have a show that, for the most part, has shed the worst traits of reality TV -- the false controversies, the nastiness, the hyperbole, and the dumbed-down content. Also, unlike some of the Bravo series (say, Top Chef), Dance lacks artificial constraints -- cook a meal for vegans in twenty minutes while hanging upside down, or whatever. The producers of Dance had the good sense to realicng that dancing (like cooking) is hard enough on its own. So we actually get two hours of superfluous dance and dance direction. Why would we want anything else?

Ford Profits Are Up! It's Worker's are Down!

Mon, 2 Nov 2009 12:11:10 -0500

We ride the stockmarket as if its ups and downs are in fact a cardiograph tracking our nation's health. The AP just released an article reporting that Ford's profits are up, despite analyst predictions. The article is upbeat in tone, and points out several times that Ford refused a bailout.

The key paragraph, however, comes in the middle (and is Orwelian language at its best):

"The earnings came despite an $800 million revenue drop. But Ford said it cut costs by $1 billion during the quarter, accomplished through layoffs in North America and Europe, reduced pension and retiree health care costs and improvements in productivity and product development."

So congratulations Ford, your stock price is up! You've managed, unlike the government, to spend less on health care and retirement (and I assume you're doling just as many benefits all the same, right?).

Right.

The auto industry in this country is as junked as ever. Unless, that is, we're willing to build sweat shops. I hear there's some nice real estate opening up overlooking Guantanamo Bay.

Why So Many Support Polanski

Tue, 29 Sep 2009 18:09:59 -0400

I don't know Roman Polanski, or all the details of his crime. I do know he committed a dangerous crime, and importantly, one that should not go unpunished. But I also understand why so many support the man, to the point of being angry at the country of Switzerland.

America, largely, is a country of prudes and anti-intellectuals. Mcarthyism, just like Slavery, is an unhealed wound. Violence is still committed against sexual and intellectual "deviants" in this country with shocking regularity. Nipples cause outrage where violence fails to. I could go on, but the problems in America -- problems from a Liberal point of view -- are documented every day on sites like Salon.

Of course, Liberals and Conservatives can agree that rape is bad, especially when the girl is drugged, and especially when the girl is a girl. So why, then, have so many come out in support of Polanski? It is because his arrest has tapped into a well of Liberal rage against the anti-artist anti-intellectual anti-sex streak that colors this nation -- a streak that has harmed, and that continues to harm the more "European" American citizens. Polanski is a "troubled artist," and his crime, however reprehensible, is also one of sexual "deviation" -- something most liberals have come to reflexively defend against the perceived homophobic, Christian enemy.

With this in mind, it's not who Polanski is, what he has done, or even what he symbolizes. It's just that what he is (an artist) and what he's done (sex) are the kinds of things so often unfairly persecuted in this country. He's one of us -- the dirty cop.

However, many Liberals, myself included, have undoubtedly become somewhat desensitized, and so do not experience a gut-level revulsion at Polanski's crime. It is a dark scene in an artsy movie playing at Cannes, and truth be told a twisted -- but interesting -- life beats suburb/cubicle prison and/or censored novels in a Christian bookstore any day. We delight in the darkness because it undermines what we are enslaved to perpetuate every day -- or, the values we purport to have do not beget teh world we wish to inhabit.

Should Polanski go to jail? Probably -- after all, that's why justice is blind. For all we know, he could still be raping children. But does the price of justice actually feel worth it? Of course not. We're always secretly rooting for the bad guy, the rebel, the weirdo, the creep -- the one who makes the movie worth watching in the first place.

Dorothy atthe MTV VMAs

Mon, 14 Sep 2009 15:09:54 -0400

Kanye West marred what would have otherwise been a perfectly delightful nightmare circus. I don't think the DVD set of Celebrity Rehab could make a person so uneasy. In the middle of this tornado of botched video editing and inconceivable production decisions was a young girl who undoubtedly wanted to click her heels together and make it all disappear: Taylor Swift.

On mute, the VMAs plays like a David Lynch film (Inland Empire or Mulholland Drive, to be precise) -- various bizarre, vaguely connected events that evoke unexpected emotional reactions play out like some Freudian flipbook. Treading water the entire time is the beautiful but innocent country girl trying to stay afloat. Of course, this is television, so maybe Taylor was in on the whole thing (just as Lynch's protagonists might be).

My favorite little touches? That extra few minutes of crowd confusion set to the music of some jam band I'd never heard of kinda sorta rapping after every commercial break. I really liked that nobody bothered to tell Diddy (that's his name now?) about the whole Kanye thing before he stepped out on stage to nominate Kanye for an award, naively assuming, I guess, that he'd actually been following the broadcast. Then there was Lady Gaga's looking totally different -- and stranger -- every time the camera cut to her (if you rewind you'll see her date is actually a wardrobe). It didn't help that a couple of those times she was dead and bloody (coupled with the hermaphrodite thing this sent my psyche to some strange places).

But the truly cringe-inducing moment was when Serena, of all people, walked on stage. I mean, I think she was wronged at the US Open, but it was as if the producers dredged up the one other celebrity who'd chosen an inopportune time to cuss someone out. It was like one of those moments when you thought the Bush adminstration couldn't get any worse, and then it got a lot worse, or a nightmare where you show up to a math test you haven't studied for, and they discover you're naked, and then discover there are ants crawling over you.

Of course, the VMAs are now essentially without Music or Awards. Anyone actually paying attention was presented with the logical impossibility of Taylor Swift's video not being nominated for best video alongside Gaga and Beyonce, even though it won over both videos in the female video category. This, however, is easy to explain next to both Eminem and Britney winning awards -- kinda like letting your suicidal friend win at Checkers (guess I just explained it).

In the end, Swift managed, using her giraffe-like legs, to escape the bar mitzvah that had assaulted her on the subway and return to the stage to finally give her acceptance speech. For the epilogue, we learned about some more chicks Russell Brand wants to fuck (who may or may not have penises). Hari Krishna.