A great response to the Charlie Sheen situation in the New York Times today by Anna Holmes.  

“…But there’s something else at work here: the seeming imperfection of Mr. Sheen’s numerous accusers. The women are of a type, which is to say, highly unsympathetic. Some are sex workers — pornographic film stars and escorts — whose compliance with churlish conduct is assumed to be part of the deal. (For the record: It is not.)

Others, namely Ms. Richards and Ms. Mueller, are less-famous starlets or former “nobodies” whose relationships with Mr. Sheen have been disparaged as purely sexual and transactional. The women reside on a continuum in which injuries are assumed and insults are expected.”

Read the full article here.

“…it has been his behaviour towards women that have brought what appears to be a million people or so onto the streets today.”

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Berlusconi got schooled yesterday by Italian women (and some men) for being a misogynist douche bag yesterday.  Incredible.

And about time too… not only do they have to put up with a leader that is more suited to the playboy mansion (creepy old men wearing pajamas unite?) than parliament house but their country is more than a little behind in the gender gap… in fact, as The Guardian points out, they are ranked 33 places behind Kazakhstan in the World Economic Forum’s Gender Gap Report.  74th out 134? OUCH.  

Meghan O’Rouke has written an amazing article for Slate on gender and reviewing. 

Tres depresso martini. 

I would love to read an Australian version… Kill Your Darlings? Overland? Anyone?

Tellingly, the ratio of men’s to women’s books being reviewed is often, if not always, wider than the ratio of male to female bylines. The New Republicreviewed 55 books by men and only nine by women. The New Yorker reviewed 33 books by men and nine by women. The New York Review of Books reviewed 306 books by men and 59 by women—a slightly better ratio than its overall bylines but hardly even.

Read it here.

Anna Diamond (What. A. Name!!!) writes a guide to feminism 101 for Ms Magazine.  I’d also add:

Watch movies with spunky protagonists like Easy A or Heathers, read Emily Maguire’s Your Skirt is Too Short and listen to feminist bands like The Gossip, The Knife, Le Tigre, Best Coast etc etc. 

It is schools’ responsibility to produce an educated, well-rounded student body; by ignoring half of the world’s population, they aren’t really doing their job. At my school, there seems to be a rise in sexism and a complete misunderstanding of the women’s movement. Although I realize women’s studies classes would not cure sexism for all time, at least they would allow students to understand, as my friend did not, what feminists really are. And students enrolled in the courses would spread knowledge by sharing with friends what they learn.

Read the article here.

So wikileaks has set my life on fire.  I can’t think of a time in recent years that I’ve been moved to buy a newspaper and then curse its uselessness.  Bless.

In fact, blogger Matt Cornell kinda summed it up with a tweet claiming: “#cablegate is “The Wire” of news events. 

Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.

The lovable/hateable nerds on 4chan have mobilised and started to DDOS the websites of financial organisations such as Paypal, Mastercard and Visa, who have cut wikileaks off.  Embarrassingly, the companies continue to the backtrack on what they have founded this decision on. It appears to be a moral issue. As others have pointed out, it is quite rich moral pandering considering these institutions all provide their services for Ku Klux Klan.  Nice.  

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When I moved to England a couple of years ago I decided to pick a soccer team to follow.  I am not the most overtly sporty person you might meet but I thought I may as well partake in my new country’s sport of choice.  I chose my first team purely on recommendation from my housemate’s friends who had taught me the team chant at our housewarming.  The next day I googled my team only to find out that they were involved in a rape scandal.  Luckily, I had invested little so I decided to leave the team to their own issues and pick anew.  I picked a team that my colleague at work supported.  A week later, a player had been charged with sexually assaulting two girls at a bar.  I picked another team and within days two of their players and one of their coaching staff had been implicated in another sexual assault.

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So, I like hip hop a lot.***

And the other day I was talking with a friend about how some of my favourite tracks have come from rap beefs.  It is perhaps not surprising that out of conflict, inspiration is created.  There is a rawness and vulnerability that comes with pure, ugly, uncensored anger.  Maybe it’s just that I’m a repressed person.  Surely that is what these tracks are doing?  The corporate hip hop world has taken this anger and violence and packaged it up and sold it as street cred to white boys and unmedicated release to white girls in suburban Australia.

Alas, here are my favourite rap beef’s of all time:

1.  2Pac Vs. Biggie Smalls

History has been somewhat rewritten this beef since the nineties with certain movies pushing certain agendas.  I guess  history is written by those left alive to tell sell it.  Ok, I’m going to get off my year 8 high horse right now (WEST SIDE TILL I DIE)…

So the story goes that 2Pac was ambushed outside a record studio that Biggie and his crew were in and shot 5 times.  He survived and forever blamed Biggie and his crew for setting him up and trying to kill him.  Biggie denies this.

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I am sorry that the past couple of weeks there hasn’t been a lot of writing on here.  I’ve been up in Darwin and have a capital D deadline coming my way like an asteroid… but I will point you towards this amazing article by Anwyn Crawford.  Published in the new edition of Overland journal, Anwyn’s piece is a meditation on anorexia, feminism, capitalism and sexuality. You might remember Anwyn from this.  We heart her here at fyiordie and this article is just incredible.  Every time I read anything by her I want to quit my job and do a PHD, (which I guess is the adult version of running off and joining the circus).  This is exactly what all good academics/writers/thinkers should make you feel like.

‘This is happening without your permission,’ sang British riot-grrrl band Huggy Bear on ‘Her Jazz’: the ‘your’ addressed in the song’s lyric was not just men – particularly the male musicians and critics quick to dismiss riot-grrrl as an incoherent, amateurish mess – but the decentralised, omniscient gaze of the spectacle itself. Capital, however, need not bother with granting or asking permission. It can simply grant permissiveness: the imprecation to pleasure within its own boundaries.

oh and fyi, it talks about riot grrl too.  

Read it