Toy Story 4 and Tarzan Syndrome

Gonna start at the ending and work my way backward.  So SPOILER ALERT!  If you've not yet seen the 4th installment of the Toy Story franchise, stop reading now.

Okay, you were warned.

Preface:  I knew almost nothing about this 4th Toy Story going in, except that Bo Peep was featured prominently, and that's about it.

When we got to the end, the very end (because, as usual, there are about four false endings as we have to wrap up the smaller storylines, too), when Woody decides to (gasp!) leave his child (Bonnie) to join up with Bo and her sheep, I said, "Whoa!  I didn't expect that!"

And the boytoy said, "Seriously, you didn't see that coming?"

And I had to stop and think for a moment because I'm usually very good at anticipating narrative arcs and supposed "plot twists"; it generally takes a lot for a movie's plot to actually surprise me.  I guess that comes from years of studying and teaching narratives and stories, but I digress.

I think I finally stumbled upon why Woody's decision came as a surprise to me:  because I was focused on Bo Peep.  I was so focused on her story with my inner monologue saying furiously, "Please don't let her rejoin them!  Please don't let her rejoin them!" that I really wasn't paying as much attention to the very obvious layout of Woody's track, including his need for a "purpose" and/or a kid to take care of (established in the very beginning of the film).

I was watching and waiting, hoping against hope that the writers wouldn't have Bo Peep rejoin the toy-kid-family, thereby negating her own personal journey in that way that happens to so many female characters.  I thought Woody would rejoin his family, leave Bo again in a bittersweet moment that showed that she couldn't just go back to her old life (and that was okay). So his move surprised me; plus, it's pretty out of character for Woody who is rather defined by his loyalty to tradition (hello, the plot to the whole first movie).

But Bo Peep's transformation from sweet love interest shepherdess to badass, staff-wielding adventurer also got me thinking, especially when I commented during the film, "Bo's gone feral!"  I shouldn't have said that; "feral" was definitely not the right word.  Instead I should have said, "Bo became a badass!" or even "Bo learned some survival skills!"  Bo is example of what I've decided to call Tarzan Syndrome.

Some things to note right off the bat:

• This shouldn't be confused with Tarzan syndrome for kittens (and why you should adopt more than one at a time), or really with any other actual psychological condition.  We're just talking literary analysis here, folks.
• I'm using Disney's 1999 animated film Tarzan as my base model.

Even if you've not seen the 1999 Disney movie (with music by Phil Collins!), you are hopefully familiar with Tarzan as a story/literary trope:  male human baby is abandoned in the jungle.  He is found by/adopted by/raised by gorillas in the wild and learns to communicate with them/behave like them.  By the time other humans stumble upon Tarzan, he speaks almost no English or other human language, but can interact with wild animals.  Basically, Tarzan is left alone in the wild, and by the time the outside world catches up with him, he has brand new bag of tricks and survival skills.  He's also an adult and somewhat respected leader in his (animal) community.

Bo Peep's transformation in Toy Story 4 is an example of this:  she was abandoned, left, or "lost."  And by the time we (the world at large) "find" her again, she has a whole new badass skill set, many of which seem alien or foreign (or "feral") to us, and she is also in a respected leadership role in her new community (of other lost and/or "wild" toys).

The main difference, though, between Bo and the actual Tarzan story is that we don't get to see Bo's transformation.  Tarzan's story is just that:  his story.  And the Toy Story franchises are generally Woody's (and sometimes Buzz's) stories.  Even in this movie where Bo is featured prominently, her transformation and journey are relegated to a brief flashback and some exposition.  We don't get to see it; we don't see her "origin story" (if you wanna put it superhero movie terms).

Bo Peep is just one in a list of "strong female characters" in (mostly) film that have Tarzan syndrome (patent pending).  Here's an incomplete/in-progress list that's been playing through my head:

• Janet Van Dyne (Michelle Pfeiffer) in Ant-Man and the Wasp (2018)
• Atlanna (Nicole Kidman) in Aquaman (2018)
• Princess Leia's transformation to General Organa is almost a contender for her inclusion on this list, but not quite as no one thought she was dead; time just passed, and we were presented with her new self in Episode VII.  She does (very briefly) have her time in "the wild."  It's called Endor, and the Ewoks are like tiny gorillas.
• Rey in Star Wars:  The Force Awakens is almost a Tarzan, except that we do get to witness her part of her story and transformation (which is why it's probably my favorite Star Wars movie, with Episode VIII in 2nd place).

Jodie Foster as Nell, Amy Acker as Fred in Angel, I would contend, are not Tarzans because they do not (initially) come back as bad-asses.  They come back (or are discovered) broken, for lack of a better word.  Fred eventually overcomes most of her trauma and becomes a functioning member of Team Angel (and then Illyria happens, but that's a different piece of analysis entirely).  I haven't watched Nell in I don't know how many years, so I can't comment on her outcome.

An argument could almost be made for Catwoman in 1992's Batman Returns (there's Michelle Pfeiffer again!), except there are too many slight perversions on the list of requirements to put her in the category (she isn't "lost"; she's pushed out a window; she doesn't learn a new skill set so much as get some supernatural cat reflexes and characteristics; we do see her transformation). 

One of the defining Tarzan Syndrome traits (since I've just decided that it's a thing) is that we don't get to see these women's transformations, and that's bad.  Sadly, most of these characters are relegated to the sidelines; their discovery and re-entrance into the world is a secondary (or even tertiary) storyline to the lead (usually cishet white male) character's story and development.  The women attain an almost mythical quality because they were gone (often presumed dead), and simply reappear, years later, as badasses.  When we do get to see their stories (female buildingsroman, anyone?), some of the mythos is lost because we can see it happening.  We get depth and details, and in exchange we lose a bit of mythical hero.  And I'm okay with that.  

We should be telling those stories, with their sweat and grit and hard fucking work (I mean, can you imagine the sheer trauma Janet Van Dyne endured living ALONE in the quantum realm for decades?!?!), and not just because those stories often involve awesome "getting ready" montages (I fucking love a good montage, and even not-so-good ones).  And we still get badasses when we tell the stories and see what went into creating the heroine we see:  please see Captain Marvel (2019), Wonder Woman (2017), Rey in Star Wars, and nearly every woman who has had to recreate herself after being abandoned.

On the Subject of Hashtags

Oh, hashtags.  We have such a complicated relationship, you and I.  As a rule, Leonard tries to avoid them.  Hashtags, to the best of my understanding, are/were a way to categorize posts and things.  For instance, this post is marked with "labels," "social media," "hashtags," and "David Tennant," among other things.  (For the record, though, Blogger does not refer to them as hashtags; it says "labels.")

And I get that.  If I want to search for posts -- particularly on Twitter or Tumblr -- on a specific topic, tags are very useful.  I can find all the David Tennant fan fiction I could ever possibly want that way¹.

But what about hashtags on posts on/in forums or social media platforms that don't really use that feature (read:  Facebook)?  And what about the hashtags we simply make up?  Is anyone really going to go searching for #thatmomentwhenItrippedinfrontofmyboss?  Or how about #sorrymythesisisshowing?  What is it we're doing with hashtags that we simply couldn't do with the text itself?

The last two examples -- hashtags we make up -- Leonard actively tries to avoid, on the principle that they defeat the purpose of a hashtag.  So why do we use them?  Is it like giving a subtitle to your post?  They are often funny, one-liners (or "one-phrasers"), something witty or clever or snarky, a rim shot or stinger to one's post (#askingforafriend and #sorrynotsorry are the only ones I can think of right now).  Sometimes they seem to be instructing the reader what to think or feel about that particular post.  So why use a hashtag to do that?  Why not use the text of the post itself?  I often stop myself when there is an itch to use a hashtag and ask, Why am I doing this?  What am I trying to accomplish?  If the post isn't funny without the hashtag, or if the reader does not come to the intended conclusion, then I'm doing something wrong in my writing.  (Usually².)

Do hashtags in their current form accomplish something rhetorically or textually that we couldn't otherwise do?  These are the the things that keep Leonard up at night -- that, and acid reflux.  Please weigh in with your thoughts regarding hashtags.

¹ Not really.  Maybe.  #AskingForAFriend
² Or maybe you're just reading it wrong!  Leonard does sometimes give in to the hashtag temptation.  C'mon, the hashtag #DroidsMoisturize is funny!

Feminist Xmas Songs

A friend turned me onto the trend #FeministXmasSongs on Twitter.  Leonard is rarely on Twitter, though, so instead we posted several to Facebook over the Christmas holiday.  By request, I have compiled them here.  Please note, these are not in the original order posted, rather by popularity (using Facebook's oh-so-scientific system of "likes").

#10 "Santa Claus Is Comin' to Town"

He sees you when you're sleeping
He knows when you're awake
He doesn't respect the boundaries you've set,
So, girl, get a restraining order.
You don't owe him anything, no matter how many dates you've been on.

#9 "O Holy Night"

Chains shall He break for the slave is our brother --
And our sister!
Women can be slaves, too, y'know.
And in His name all oppression shall cease -- black lives matter!
But please leave your (straight) white (male) savior complex at home.

#8 "I Saw Mommy Kissin' Santa Claus"

I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus
Underneath the mistletoe last night
She didn't see me creep
Because I'm a creepy little kid
With an Oedipus complex.

#7 "Frosty the Snowman"

Frosty the Snowman
Was a jolly, happy soul
With a corncob pipe and a button nose
And two eyes made out of coal
Frosty the Snowperson
Is a gender neutral character
Because a pipe and coal doesn't make one a "man."

#6 "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen"

God rest ye merry gentlemen --
Seriously?!??

#5 "Santa, Baby"

Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing -- a ring.
I don't mean on the phone;
You can just text me
Because I know my worth isn't dependent upon the monetary value of "gifts."

#4 "Santa, Baby" again

Think of all the fun I've missed;
Think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed;
Because the patriarchy shames women who have a healthy sex life.
Next year I could be just as good,
Since we're only rewarding women who claim to be virgins.

#3 "Silver Bells"

City sidewalks, busy sidewalks.
Dressed in holiday style
In the air there's a feeling of Christmas
Children laughing,
People passing,
Meeting smile after smile
People smiling because they want to,
Not because someone insisted they do so.
It's just a smile, not an invitation for harassment, Mr. Street-Shopper!
My public person is not for you to comment upon.

#2 "Walking in a Winter Wonderland"

In the meadow we can build a snowman
And pretend that he is Parson Brown
He'll say, "Are you married?"
We'll say, "That's really none of your business; we're two consenting adults."

#1 (and Leonard's personal favorite) "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer"

Grandma got run over by a reindeer
Walking home from our house Christmas Eve
You can say there's no such thing as Santa
But as for me and Grandpa,
We know that Western literary tradition punishes women who show independence.

Honorable Mentions:

Several of Leonard's friends joined the movement as well.  Here are their contributions (reposted with permission).

Serena "In the Bleak Midwinter"

What can I give him? Poor as I am? anything I want because consent is like tea! Seriously, if someone said they didn't want tea, you wouldn't make em drink tea! Give me heart, if I want to! It's up to me!!! 

Liz "Little Drummer Boy"

Come they told me
Pa rum pum pum pum
A new-born king to see,
Or not, which is totally fine,
Because consent is important,
Especially when you're teaching
Kids that they have agency over
Their own bodies. And forcing them
To feign affection in order to avoid
Hurting someone's feeling is
Participating in rape culture.

Jamie "Carol of the Bells"

 Hark! How the bells, sweet silver bells
All seem to say, "Throw cares away."
Christmas is here, bringing good cheer or not, because it's ok to feel however you want to feel, you don't have to smile just to make others feel ok with you.
To young and old, meek and the bold, and also the middle aged because women don't have to be only young or old no mater what the Hollywood anti aging machine tells us about standards of beauty.
Ding, dong, ding, dong, that is their song.

Michael "Baby, It's Cold Outside"

 - I really can't stay...
- Baby it's cold outside--so bundle up and have a pleasant evening.
(End of Song.)

Tess "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer"

 I know dashers and dancers and prancers and vixens and none of them deserve to be judged by what society says they should be!

Image compliments of University College London Union

P.S.  "Baby, It's Cold Outside" has received several requests.  I know there has already been a "Honest" video about it (which I haven't watched yet).  As it is a trifecta of date rape, guilt-trips, and slut-shaming, it deserves its own blog post (forthcoming).

Back in Bitch Mode: But Wait, There's Cake!

This blog has been devoid of new posts for far too long.  So, of course, Leonard is back with something to complain about.  This time we turn our feminist analytic eye to Maroon 5.

The more I hear from you, Maroon 5, the less I like you.  Yes, even you, Adam Levine.  In fact, especially you, Adam Levine.  There is, of course, the outrage over the video for the song "Animals," featuring Levine's real-life wife.  As the article points out, the song already says some pretty disgusting things, like "I'm preyin' on you tonight."  Not okay, Maroon 5!  I'm not going to waste my time dissecting it; the linked HuffPost article already does a good job.  This song has joined the ranks of "Blurred Lines" for me -- meaning I turn the station as soon as it comes on.

Instead, let's look at the "harmless" song "Sugar."  And let us, for the time being, ignore that it is a rip off of Prince's "U Got the Look."  Seriously.  The first time I heard the song, I thought I was hearing a cover of a Prince song, just couldn't put my finger on which one.

Since that first hearing, I inevitably catch the song during its bridge of :

I want that red velvet

I want that sugar sweet

Don't let nobody touch it

Unless that somebody's me

I gotta be a man

There ain't no other way

So, before Leonard starts frothing at the mouth, let's take a look-see.  "Sugar," of course, is a euphemism for specifically kisses, more generally loving actions/affection.  Angela Landsbury even uses it in the 1961 Elvis Presley film Blue Hawaii -- in which she plays Elvis' mother.  Let that sink in for a bit.

So Adam Levine¹ wants our "sugar."  Okay, fine.  But our "red velvet"?  He's not talking about the cake, ladies and gentlemen.  "Velvet" is a euphemism for "vagina"; in fact, "tipping the velvet" means cunnilingus (see also:  Tipping the Velvet by Sarah Waters).  "Red velvet" is even more explicit as labia is generally pinkish colored.

So Adam Levine wants my vagina now.  Alright, fine.  BUT, here's the problem(s):  "Don't let nobody touch it / Unless that somebody's me."  Excuse me?  You do not have agency over my body parts, Adam Levine; only I do.  You do not get to say who gets to touch it.  Saying "don't let nobody touch it" even excludes me from touching myself (and that's certainly not going to happen).  IF I let someone else "touch it," that's my decision, whether it's the "you" (here Adam Levine) or someone else.

But wait, there's more!
"I gotta be a man / There ain't no other way"
So apparently Adam Levine's masculinity depends on his ability to touch and/or control my body?  Don't look at me that way, readers.  He said it!  In fact, he just said that the ONLY way to "be a man" (whatever the fuck that means) is to have my body.

Masculinity is so many other things, and one person's ability to "feel" masculine (or feminine or whatever) is not up to some other person.  Just as I have agency over my body, so do you have control over how you want to feel and/or explore your gender.  Don't bring my red velvet labia into it.

In short, the song is gross, though possibly not as obviously offensive as "Animals."  But to top it all off, the "official video" for the song shows Maroon 5 supposedly crashing wedding receptions and singing this song to newlyweds (straight newlyweds, I should add).  Eww.

¹In all fairness to Mr. Levine, a true rhetorical analysis would not confuse him, the singer, with the speaker of the song (thank you, New Criticism). We typically say "the speaker," just like when dealing with poetry. But it's funnier to say Adam Levine wants Leonard's vagina.

In Defense of The Big Bang Theory

Alright, Leonard is fed up with people trashing one of our favorite shows!  So the following rant is an attempt to refute claims that The Big Bang Theory is sexist, anti-women, and/or "nerd minstrel."

First:  Nerd Minstrel.

I must quote Wil Wheaton here, who, when asked this same question, said:

Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, and if someone believes that about Big Bang Theory, they’re certainly not obligated to watch it.

That said, I completely disagree with that assessment based on my knowledge of the writers and producers (all of whom are giant nerds), and the knowledge that the person who popularized that sentiment you referenced is deliberately provocative and kind of a jerk.

The writer in question is James Peter Gates, or "Jimmy the Saint" on SickChirpse.com.  And that's all I can say about him.  I've never heard of him before, and taking a glance at his writings (including his TBBT article), I can say that I doubt he and I see eye to eye on...almost anything.  What I can do is define "minstrel" or more specifically, "minstrel show."  According to Wikipedia (source of all knowledge), a "minstrel show"

 was an American entertainment consisting of comic skits, variety acts, dancing, and music, performed by white people in blackface or, especially after the Civil War, black people in blackface. Minstrel shows lampooned black people as dim-witted, lazy, buffoonish, superstitious, happy-go-lucky, and musical.

So lampooning people of color (especially by white people) is BAD, I think we can all agree.  So I guess Gates is saying that non-nerds are lampooning nerds on a TV show.  I suppose, he's half right.  The actors who portray Sheldon, Leonard, Howard, and Raj are just that -- actors.  They may or may not also identify as "nerds," "geeks," "dorks," etc.  But people portraying people who they really aren't is the very nature of acting and television.  I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that Gates is saying that non-nerd people "lampooning" nerds is the problem.  (I am not, however, going to address each of the characteristics the Wikipedia article addresses ["dim-witted," "lazy," etc.] as those clearly don't apply.)

And I guess I just don't see this.  I don't see it as portraying nerds in a negative light, let alone by people in "nerdface" (what would THAT even look like??).

I consider myself a nerd, geek, dork as well.  I enjoy many of the same hobbies and games and movies and things the characters on the show enjoy.  I do not find the jokes offensive to my nerd status.  I do not necessarily laugh "at" them.  My laughter is recognition of the situation.  My laughter signifies, "Oh yeah, I've had that happen!" or even "Oh man, I wish that could happen to me!"  It is not schadenfreude or even self-preservation ("Thank God that's you and not me!").  It is recognition, community, and overall joy.

I also feel that comparing the writing style of a single television show to an entire entertainment movement which exploited and was offensive to an entire race of people to be just slightly hyperbolic.  Just sayin'.

But like Wil Wheaton said, if you feel that The Big Bang Theory is somehow lampooning nerds and all of the jokes are at their expense in a hurtful and offensive manner, then by all means, you do not have to watch.  However, how many of you have watched the show?  How many of you out there have seen it and felt it matches Mr. Gates' description, and how many of you are simply repeating what you've heard other people say?  If you have watched, great!  If you haven't, then stop saying "It IS this," and start saying, "I've not watched it, but I don't think I'd like it."

Then there's this comment from Tumblr user lauriejuspeczyk:

If you don’t understand why people don’t like the big bang theory, once in an episode the cast was at a comic store browsing and a woman walked in, and one of the leads said “Is she lost?” and that was the joke.

Okay, at first I thought I was all over this one.  I thought this was referring to S02E20, "The Hofstadter Isotope," which is the first episode where we see the comic book store as a physical location, and Penny stops in.  However, I just watched said episode and this line of dialogue is never uttered.  Never fear!  This Leonard (not be to confused with Johnny Galecki's Leonard) is not to be daunted!

[Sidebar:  Big shout-out and "thank you!" to the Big Bang Theory Wiki which helped me find which episodes featured The Comic Center of Pasadena, a.k.a. "the comic book store."]

So I next went to Season 6, Episode 13 "The Bakersfield Expedition," which is probably one of my favorite episodes to date.  In this episode, the three female characters -- Penny, Bernadette, and Amy -- decide to check out some comic books.  If these things are so important to their partners, perhaps they should give them a chance?  They walk in and the line "Is she lost?" is again never uttered.

So it's hard to take a stand and/or defend something that didn't actually happen in an episode.  Please, if you find this episode, let me know -- either in the comments here or an "Ask" via Tumblr -- so I can watch it.

I'm a little sad because my defense of this scene was going to harken back to my very first night at my very first Comic Con *le sigh*  Another time, I suppose.

Lastly, the idea that The Big Bang Theory is sexist.  I thought I had read a user post somewhere saying the show tries to "put women in their place," and now I can't find that. Let's look at the female characters to determine if sexism is occurring.

Penny:  If sexism was possibly going to occur, it would start here.  Penny was the only female character for a long time, and a major premise of the show were here interactions with the boys across the hall. At first her character was an amalgam of stereotypes:  she's blonde, boozy, sexually promiscuous, a struggling actress/waitress, without a college education, and from Omaha, NE.  If anything, I could get offended about the Nebraska thing, having been born there myself.

However, she's also in a loving relationship with one of the "nerds," did start taking college classes (because she wanted to), has used the science she's picked up around the guys in conversations with other people, and is no longer a waitress.  She's also an entrepreneur (S02E18 "The Work Song Nanocluster," S04E12 "The Bus Pants Utilization").  She and Sheldon have a sweetly complicated friendship as well, part friendship, part owner/pet, part parent/child.  He's driven her to the ER (and he HATES driving), and she, of course, has sung "Soft Kitty" to him.

Also, one of the fun things about the show's writers is their ability to poke fun at themselves.  In S02E19, "The Dead Hooker Extrapolation," Penny hates a fellow actress for all of the same characteristics I listed above, and we're able to see the depth that makes her good person and friend, not some shallow floozy (like the aforementioned actress).  Also, while Penny does not necessarily like comic books, she did spend quite a bit of time playing World of Warcraft (and enjoying it! S02E03 "The Barbarian Sublimation").

Bernadette:  Bernadette is probably my favorite of the three.  She's all of 4'11" with a squeaky, high-pitched voice and a violent streak (probably why I love her).  She also disproves the possible stereotype about waitresses.  She started off working at the Cheesecake Factory with Penny (who set her up with Howard, BTW), working her way through school.  She's a brilliant scientist working for a large pharmaceutical company, and she is the bread-winner for her family.

I suppose you could say she "wear the pants" in her marriage with Howard, if you wanted to use such a term, but this show never falls into that annoying, wife-as-nag-husband-is-henpecked trope like Everyone Loves Raymond or Home Improvement did.  She is fiercely loyal to her spouse (S06E09 "The Parking Spot Escalation") and to her friends (S07E13 "The Occupation Recalibration").
So how is this sexist?

Amy Farrah Fowler:  she's a fucking neurobiologist!  She's also very well-rounded; she enjoys both Chaucer and playing the harp.  She has her own apartment and her own car, so she clearly knows how to manage her funds.  And don't forget:  when she and Sheldon first began their relationship, she was just as analytical, literal, and standoffish as he is.  Their relationship has changed and evolved, just like Bernadette and Howard's, and Penny and Leonard's -- like all good relationships (and writing) should.

So, again, I'm afraid I don't see how the show is sexist.  Do these three women enjoy comic books?  Not necessarily, no.  Does the show say that NO WOMEN enjoy comic books?  Absolutely not.  In fact, Raj met his (now ex-) girlfriend, Lucy, in the comic book store (S06E16 "The Tangible Affection Proof").  Additionally, in "The Bakersfield Expedition," these women do take the time to explore comic books and actually have very involved discussions/arguments about them.

The long and short of it is, nothing I say here will convince you to watch the show if you've decided not to.  If you have watched it and decided you don't like it, nothing I say will convince you otherwise.  You don't have to like everything, and you and I don't have to like the same things.  But please stop badmouthing the show and saying it's things it's not, especially when the proof is lacking.

And how here is a clip of one of my other favorite episodes, E02E11 "The Bath Item Gift Hypothesis."  Penny's gift proves that she pays attention to what Leonard and Sheldon like because say, for instance, you've never watched an episode of Star Trek in your life (I know it's hard to believe, but such people do exist).  And then you start hearing about it from friends and acquaintances.  And you hear characters' and actors' names (like Captain Kirk, Mr. Spock, Leonard Nimoy, etc.) tossed around.  You would REALLY have to be on your game to put all of that together AND recognize Leonard Nimoy currently, as an elderly man, when out in public.  It's like my friends who talk sports a lot.  I hear the names, I know the team names, but I wouldn't be able to pick any of them out of a line-up.  So what Penny did is actually quite impressive (and Jim Parsons' acting in this scene is just phenomenal). 

 

Why I Don't Say 'African-American'

Just in time for Black (not "African-American") History Month,...
I do not use the term "African-American."  As with most things for Leonard, it breaks down to semantics.  And, per usual, we'll break this down bullet-point style.

• Africa is not a country.  It's an entire CONTINENT.  So when you say someone is "African," yes, they might be from Kenya, Somalia, or Nigeria.  They might also be from Egypt, Libya, Sudan, Ethiopia, Morocco, or one of the 55 recognized countries that make up the continent -- including the island of Madagascar, where we like to move it move it. 
•  America isn't quite a country either.  This gets a little tricky, but bear with me.  The full name of this country of my origin is The United States of America.  That preposition "of" is  important.  These United States are part of America.  Given our location, we'll have to presume that we mean North America, which is a continent.  So "America" in this instance can also mean Mexico and Canada.  And if we don't use the adjective "North," we're also left with Latin America and South America.  So even though we might say we're "American," the word itself is rather ambiguous.
• Not all black people are from the continent of Africa.  What about Haiti?  Or the Dominican Republic?  Or a thousand other places around the world where non-Caucasian people are found?  You might say, "But Leonard, all of those black people originally came from Africa."  To which I'll say, "Fine, and if we trace back far enough, we ALL came from that same region before the phenomenon of continental drift."  You'll say, "It's ridiculous to go that far back!"  And I'll say, "Exactly."  I find it ridiculous to assume to trace all black people back to Africa.
• Did you ever stop to think that perhaps that person doesn't want or is unable to trace their heritage back that far?  Perhaps he or she would simply like to be known as a person in the here and now, as a citizen of the United States.  Speaking of which... 
• What do they call black people in other countries?  They certainly don't say "African-American" in Ireland, do they?  Here, I'll put it in the form of a joke:
• Q:  What do you call a black person in Great Britain?
• A:  British.
• That's the thing of it.  I think perhaps country of origin is more important in terms of identity than race.  Which reminds me, race is social construct.  I'm sure you've all heard that there could be a larger difference in DNA between a (white) blonde and a (white) brunette than between a white person and a black person.  But what about this?  Y'know in those demographic boxes we sometimes fill out (I check "white"), well "white" is a relatively new option.  A hundred years ago or so, the U.S. of A. was the Great Melting Pot, so the demographic options were things like "Irish," "Polish," "German," etc.  "White" did not exist.  That we have it now as a concept is part of why it's a social construct.  (This is, of course, a very simplified explanation of a larger concept.  This article by Ta-Nehisi Coates gives more insight into the discussion.)

I could fill this page with more anecdotes about times the term "African-American" has backfired, but here's the one that sticks out:  a student at a prominent university here applied for and was almost granted a scholarship for "African-American" students.  The university started to renege on the grant upon learning that said student was originally from Egypt.  That's not the kind of "African" they meant.

When we/you say "African-American," what we/you really mean is "black."  So why not just say that?

"But, Leonard," you'll say, "'black' sounds so crude.  Maybe even...racist," you'll whisper, hoping we're not overheard. 

"African-American" is way for people to assuage whatever guilt they might feel over "race" while still sounding "politically correct," or, as I like to call it, "pretentious."

If you're uncomfortable saying "black," ask yourself this question:  why do you feel compelled to say it (or "African-American") at all?  Is it somehow necessary to the story you're telling that we know the skin color of the person involved?  Let me put it this way:  would you still say it if the opposite were true?  Would you say, "I ran into this white guy today..."?  Probably not.

Similar to when I discuss heteronormativity with my students, I point out that we do not feel compelled to say "I was talking with my straight friend at work" because we assume the person is straight unless told otherwise.  Similarly, we might assume a person is white unless told otherwise.  Black people, gay people, are not the "Other," defined only by their non-straightness or non-whiteness.

I suggest instead that, unless it is somehow imperative to the idea you're trying to get across, you not say "black" or "white" or "gay" or "straight" at all.  Let your audience's assumptions fall where they may; that's on them.  You  might be amazed at how your speech changes.

TIME Magazine Repost

(originally posted on May 17, 2012)

Since everyone else is talking about it, I might as well join in the fray.  I seem to be at the edges of organic, hippie, breastfeeding community, so what the hell!  Please note that this is simply a visual analysis of the TIME Magazine cover.  I have not read the article itself, nor do I intend to.

So, first and foremost, breastfeeding is about:  food, nutrition, health, and a loving bond between mother and child.  There is nothing loving or remotely food-related about this picture: 

Let's discuss why, shall we? 

• The cover's stark white background leaves the impression of something clinical, or -- at best -- a vacuum devoid of any feelings, especially those of love, care, and nutrition. 

• No one breastfeeds standing up. In addition to nutrition/eating, breastfeeding is often very soothing for children; they end up falling asleep. Therefore, mothers and children are often sitting, cradling, rocking, or even lying down when breastfeeding. I doubt this child is even "eating" during this picture. The fact that the entire thing, then, must be staged adds to the alien, uncomfortable feeling the viewer gets because he's literally hanging out with his mom's boob in his mouth for no particular reason. Boobs in mouths for recreational purposes is something adults do, not children. 

• Speaking of children, the cover states that this boy is three years old. Uhh, what? He looks like a first-grader. My Unit's nephew is nearly three, and he's a BIG boy (nearly twelve pounds at birth!), and he is neither this tall, nor is his face as mature looking as this boy's. You can be damn sure that the photographer or editor picked the oldest-looking child from the bunch for this picture to reinforce the discomfort and awkwardness of this image. Take, for instance what he's wearing:

• He's not dressed like a toddler. At the risk of sounding like a 1920s mother, he's wearing long pants! And said long pants are camouflage, which then makes us think of the military. The military brings up connotations of rigidity, masculinity, and aggression, not to mention adults. Again, nothing loving or nutrition-related there. 
• His grey, long-sleeved shirt matches the grey undertones in his camouflage pants, giving the overall impression of a tiny soldier, or -- worse yet -- a miniature adult. Toddlers' clothes tend to be brightly colored and/or patterned, with whimsical trucks or monkeys or frogs or what have you. There is no whimsy here. 
• He is a "he." It's not a mother and daughter; it's a mother and a son dressed like a miniature adult. Or, in other words, a woman and a "man," once again leading us to sexual connotations (can you say "Oedipus complex"?), rather than familial, maternal ones. 
• He's standing on a wooden chair. In addition to the above comment ("no one breastfeeds standing up"), the allusion to milking a cow (during which one traditionally sits on a wooden stool) cannot be ignored. 
• Let's look at the mother. I know lots of mothers of children under the age of ten, many of whom breastfeed, and none of them look like that. You can be damn sure that TIME's photographer or editor picked the sleekest, fittest, trimmest, "hottest" looking mom from the bunch for the cover. 
• She's Caucasian and blonde.  I don't even need to break that one down for you. 
• In addition to faux-breastfeeding her son, they have dressed her to show as much skin as possible. There are lots of tops and tanks out there made for breastfeeding or items that can be worn easily whilst breastfeeding, but they still put her in a tiny tank top with skinny straps to reveal as much skin as possible while still making her look "casually dressed." 
• Two words: skinny jeans. See above re: slimmest, fittest mom possible. 

The effect, of course, of all of these things working together is to present an alien, "unnatural" picture of what is, in reality, a very natural practice (that is, breastfeeding). When looking at the picture, we are experiencing what Freud calls "the uncanny." The uncanny (briefly, simply) is "an instance where something can be familiar, yet foreign at the same time, resulting in a feeling of it being uncomfortably strange or uncomfortably familiar" (Wikipedia Contributors). We recognize mother and child, but with the added layer of "adult-ness," the lack of a recognizably maternal setting, and the hints of sexuality creeping around the edges, we decide the overall image is foreign. We then reject it, are repulsed by it; something about it "does not compute" in our heads.

And here's the kicker: now that TIME has done everything within its power to stage this photo to make the audience feel as uncomfortable (or uncanny) as possible, both "models" are looking directly at the camera, thereby looking "at" us. So not only do we feel uncomfortable with the images presented, we now feel guilty about feeling uncomfortable because they can "see" us looking at them. It's a kind of reversed voyeurism, chock-full of judgment and criticism from the mother and son watching us watching them.

The last thing I'll address it the much-discussed headline: "Are you MOM enough?" While I think that so-called "attachment parenting" is a crock of shit, this headline makes parenting into a competition. Rather, it reinforces the idea that parenting or mothering is a competition of some sort. Unfortunately, there are many women out there who already view their maternal duties -- consciously or un- -- as a kind of competition. Parenting is not about how hard you can make it on yourself. If you choose to do things the most difficult way possible by growing all of your own food, literally wearing your babies/toddlers/children on you 24/7, and going without showering or bathing so that you can spend your days making your own homemade granola/yogurt/detergent/bread/sausages/toothpaste/ketchup/mayonnaise/pesto/wine, kudos to you! But no one is going to hand you an award and think, "Wow, she must be a great mom because she's so stressed out all the time." 
Well, I certainly won't.

There can be a happy medium -- or several happy mediums -- in parenting, and those ways are different for every parent, every child, every family. Things like "attachment parenting" and "elimination communication" strike me as neither happy nor medium. But it's not a competition, people. Shame on you, TIME Magazine, for contributing to the pressure that mothering is something to compete at, something to "win."

WTF, Fall Out Boy?!?*

*I cannot take credit for that quote.  C.E. said it, summing up our feelings.

Fall Out Boy had a new single playing on the radio, and I was puzzled over the lyrics.  When C.E. was in the car, I subjected her to my rambling thoughts on the subject (I was driving; she had no choice but to listen or jump from a moving vehicle).  She's younger than I am, so I thought maybe her hip and cool knowledge would have up-to-the-minute information that I wasn't privy to.

"Have you heard that new Fall Out Boy song?  Is it about child abuse and molestation??" I asked.  The lyrics said (I thought), "My sons know what you did in the dark."

I had visions of the members of Fall Out Boy writing about some horrible childhood tragedy or abuse they had suffered, and the protagonist of the song telling their own children about this monster so the pattern of abuse wouldn't be repeated.  "Everyone knows what you did, creepy Uncle Bob.  Even these children are (rightly) judging you."  Then the chorus says, "So light 'em up," and I had further visions of turning on blazing metaphorical floodlights, lighting up the past -- no more secrets in the dark.

So C.E. whipped out her smart phone and looked up "Fall Out Boy lyrics."  SPOILER ALERT:  the song is not about child molestation.

The lyrics say (and the title of the song is):  "My songs know what you did in the dark."

Uhh, what?

"Is this song about rape??"  C.E. kept reading lyrics aloud:
"I'm just dreaming of tearing you apart
I'm in the details with the devil
So now the world can never get me on my level
I just gotta get you off the cage
I'm a young lover's rage
Gonna need a spark to ignite"

Cue C.E.:  "What the fuck, Fall Out Boy??"

WTF, indeed.  C.E. commented that she expected a full rhetorical analysis of these fucked up lyrics on her desk within a week.  But I'm not analyzing these lyrics, other than to say it is possible to have too many metaphors.  Metaphors need to work together, people, so your piece has some sort of coherent (but not necessarily obvious) meaning.  We are not making spaghetti here; you cannot just throw every piece of imagery you have at the wall ("because it sounds cool") and hope it all sticks -- tada! A song is born.
Not quite.

But no.  This piece is about the lost art of diction:

"the accent, inflection, intonation, and speech-sound quality manifested by an individual speaker, usually judged in terms of prevailing standards of acceptability; enunciation."

The words "song" and "son" should not sound the same.  They are even spelled differently in the IPA:  \ˈsȯŋ\ and  \ˈsən\

 Lack of diction in songs force my brain to try to figure out WTF they are singing, giving some strange interpretations to the lyrics, as outlined above -- usually giving the song's artist much more credit than they deserve.

Here are some other top contenders, in handy chart form:

Song	Artist	What I Hear	What They Said	Result
“Locked Out of Heaven”	Bruno Mars	“Your sex texts me to paradise”	“Your sex takes me to paradise”	Sexting to paradise is much less romantic, that’s for sure.
“Just Can’t Get Enough”	Black-Eyed Peas	“Can’t get enough / Wanna germ inside your love”	“Can’t get enough / Wanna jump inside your love”	Eww.  I don’t even want to know what “germ inside your love” would entail.
“Cups”	Anna Kendrick	“You’re gonna miss me by taco.”	“You’re gonna miss me by my talk – oh”	This is a good reason to switch these lyrics around to “You’re going to miss me by my talk / you’re going to miss by my walk – oh” when singing the song at karaoke.

Enunciation, good people!  It's not just for breakfast anymore.  Now go practice your tongue twisters and vocal warm-ups!  Don't come back here until I can hear every "K" sound in the following:
"You know New York
You need New York
You know you need unique New York."

Curse You, Emeli Sande!

Curse you and your catchy song and your funky name!  Really just the song; you can spell your name however you like.  (Fun Fact:  her given name is "Adele," but she didn't use it for her musical career for obvious reasons.)

Your song "Next to Me" is incredibly catchy.  I find myself wanting to sing along, and then I actually listened to the lyrics, and found I was offended.  Let's take a look-see:

You won’t find him drinking at the table  
Rolling dice and staying out ’til three 
You won’t ever find him be unfaithful  
You will find him, you’ll find him next to me

Wow, there's so much wrong with just that one stanza, I need to stop and take a breath before I start.

...

Okay, here goes.

• Why should I care where your boyfriend goes??
• It's very sloppy "logic" that a person who drinks and gambles is also going to be unfaithful.
• It's also a false dichotomy that a person who is not unfaithful must then be attached to his girlfriend's hip 24/7.

This opening stanza is representative of the whole song.  Sande lists the places you won't find her boyfriend, but insists you'll find him "next to" her.  I find it rather offensive that, again, a significant other has to be "next to" their partner in order to be considered faithful.  I also find it suspect that a person would feel the need to insist to everyone else that said partner is "next to" her all the time.  Sounds a bit like the lady doth protest too much, y'know what I mean?

Oh sure, there are some lyrics about her losing her money and faith, and this nameless man (because, of course, it IS a man *coughheteronormativecough*) will still be next to her, but again, who cares?  Why do you need to prove this to us, Emeli Sande?

Sadly, apparently a lot of people care.  Facebook ads¹ would lead us to believe that there are whole segments of the population looking for mates who are "faithful."  Apparently there are so many unfaithful men out there, others feel the need to qualify their faithfulness.  I at first read "faithful" (on said ads) as a mention of spirituality or religiousness, but I was mistaken.  No, Facebook was truly asking if I wanted to meet "Single Black Faithful Men."  No, Facebook, I don't.  Clearly your algorithms aren't working correctly if you think that's where my tastes lie.  And again, there's a lot wrong with that "ad" as well, but this post isn't about that.

So good for you (I guess), Emeli Sande.  Facebook ads worked for you in finding a faithful mate!  I still find it offensive, and I will protest your damn catchy song by not singing along.  Not even a little bit.  I may even change the station (though I make no promises).

(Image courtesy of Yellowdog Granny)

¹What do you mean Facebook ads are not clear representations of real life??