A post of random
You know what the thing is? The thing is this. If you want to write an unbalanced essay, that's fine. God knows everyone does it. But pleased not to be writing an unbalanced essay, claiming your position is fact when anyone with a grasp of the English language can tell it should be opinion, and then market it as balanced. It's a tiny bit irritating.
Must not reply to essay. Must not point out that being with someone else does not mean no other friends are possible. Must not point out that JK chooses what she shows us, so when she chooses to show one thing when she could have shown another, it's reasonable to wonder why. Must not say any of this, as temper short atm.
shaggydogstail is my hero, though. *fangirls her like whoa*
***
In other news, I offer you yet more proof that the world is full of lunatics. Lunatics with too much time on their hands, come to that.
Maybe they have a point, I don't know; it gets lost in the racist, bitter vitriol. Though, you know, just for the record, The BBC is meant to be impartial as far as political parties go, sure. That doesn't mean the same has to apply to right wing nutjobs (or left, just in case they hunt me down), and nor does it mean being racist or Islamaphoebic whenever the opportunity arises. Thank you.
***
Also, Wimbledon! Woo! In normal years (when the World Cup isn't on) this is how summer arrives. When I was young, it meant finishing school and being around in the afternoons while my mum got all crazy enthusiastic for McEnroe and Becker, before all that stuff about broom cupboards. And then it was finishing uni exams in time to devote the proper attention to willing Agassi to win, and, of course, to Tim losing. Agassi isn't going to win this year, I don't think (though it would be all kinds of joy making if he could, since this is his last time), but Tim won't either, all things being well. Gah. If he does, the world will be submerged in smugness.
However, that was not the point of mentioning it. The point was to ask some important feminist questions. For certain definitions of important meaning not really.
The Women are paid less than the men, which apparently I'm meant to be outraged about. And I'm kind of really not, though maybe one of you can help me out.
They play three sets? The men play five? More women can play all three competitions -- doubles, singles and mixed--because of the shorter match times? So, um... Seriously, what am I missing?
Obviously, there are differences in strength and stamina, but the women's marathon is 26 miles, right? Same as the men's? In the mixed doubles I can see why three, but mostly right now I'm just confused. And I'm not being facetious, I'm just finding it hard to work up the rage I'm told I should have. Huh.
***
Before this morning's paper and flist reading sent me into a frenzy of rage and confusion, resulting in possibly the most badly linked post ever, I actually meant to update with other things. Like that I picked up a guitar for the first time in a long time the other day. Ow, ow, ow. My friend and I used to get together and pretend to learn to play things regularly, but we haven't in a while, and I seem to have forgotten a lot. Though we have learned to play Streetlight, which sounds very cool, even if my nails are too long.
And when we were done being musical, she continued with her Sports Night watching indoctrination. Thursday night she got to see Jeremy's, "I didn't stop liking tennis when I started liking you speech." She was suitably impressed, and she also loves Dan and Isaac, so we can continue to be friends. *g*
And also a different friend and I went to see the Lord of the Rings symphony last night, which was very cool. I'd forgotten how much I enjoyed the music from the films, and how much of the film's emotional pull, for me, is totally bound up in it. Gandalf's death, and the moment in Helm's Deep when Théoden is all, "Now for wrath, now for ruin, and the red dawn," still gave me Goosebumps last night. Though the kid doing a lot of the singing from the first film was, um, occasionally off-key. It sounded a lot like his voice was maybe breaking, which must suck if you're making your living as a choirboy. Just ask Aled Jones, man.
Have booked a hotel in Milan, so it's nice to know we won't be sleeping on park benches somewhere, and we watched some classic Dr Who on Friday. It was certainly interesting, though I missed David and Chris. Which reminds me that I forgot to mention "Are you deducting?" was possibly, and somewhat inexplicably, the sexiest thing David's said all series. And then what followed made me kind of melty.
And I also forgot, "I'm being facetious. There's no call for it." *loves*
And now, to conclude, I would like Brazil to win. I always do, which seems to be a family thing, but I thought I'd mention it so I can say I said it before they actually do win. *If* they win, I suppose.
Must not reply to essay. Must not point out that being with someone else does not mean no other friends are possible. Must not point out that JK chooses what she shows us, so when she chooses to show one thing when she could have shown another, it's reasonable to wonder why. Must not say any of this, as temper short atm.
shaggydogstail is my hero, though. *fangirls her like whoa*
***
In other news, I offer you yet more proof that the world is full of lunatics. Lunatics with too much time on their hands, come to that.
Maybe they have a point, I don't know; it gets lost in the racist, bitter vitriol. Though, you know, just for the record, The BBC is meant to be impartial as far as political parties go, sure. That doesn't mean the same has to apply to right wing nutjobs (or left, just in case they hunt me down), and nor does it mean being racist or Islamaphoebic whenever the opportunity arises. Thank you.
***
Also, Wimbledon! Woo! In normal years (when the World Cup isn't on) this is how summer arrives. When I was young, it meant finishing school and being around in the afternoons while my mum got all crazy enthusiastic for McEnroe and Becker, before all that stuff about broom cupboards. And then it was finishing uni exams in time to devote the proper attention to willing Agassi to win, and, of course, to Tim losing. Agassi isn't going to win this year, I don't think (though it would be all kinds of joy making if he could, since this is his last time), but Tim won't either, all things being well. Gah. If he does, the world will be submerged in smugness.
However, that was not the point of mentioning it. The point was to ask some important feminist questions. For certain definitions of important meaning not really.
The Women are paid less than the men, which apparently I'm meant to be outraged about. And I'm kind of really not, though maybe one of you can help me out.
They play three sets? The men play five? More women can play all three competitions -- doubles, singles and mixed--because of the shorter match times? So, um... Seriously, what am I missing?
Obviously, there are differences in strength and stamina, but the women's marathon is 26 miles, right? Same as the men's? In the mixed doubles I can see why three, but mostly right now I'm just confused. And I'm not being facetious, I'm just finding it hard to work up the rage I'm told I should have. Huh.
***
Before this morning's paper and flist reading sent me into a frenzy of rage and confusion, resulting in possibly the most badly linked post ever, I actually meant to update with other things. Like that I picked up a guitar for the first time in a long time the other day. Ow, ow, ow. My friend and I used to get together and pretend to learn to play things regularly, but we haven't in a while, and I seem to have forgotten a lot. Though we have learned to play Streetlight, which sounds very cool, even if my nails are too long.
And when we were done being musical, she continued with her Sports Night watching indoctrination. Thursday night she got to see Jeremy's, "I didn't stop liking tennis when I started liking you speech." She was suitably impressed, and she also loves Dan and Isaac, so we can continue to be friends. *g*
And also a different friend and I went to see the Lord of the Rings symphony last night, which was very cool. I'd forgotten how much I enjoyed the music from the films, and how much of the film's emotional pull, for me, is totally bound up in it. Gandalf's death, and the moment in Helm's Deep when Théoden is all, "Now for wrath, now for ruin, and the red dawn," still gave me Goosebumps last night. Though the kid doing a lot of the singing from the first film was, um, occasionally off-key. It sounded a lot like his voice was maybe breaking, which must suck if you're making your living as a choirboy. Just ask Aled Jones, man.
Have booked a hotel in Milan, so it's nice to know we won't be sleeping on park benches somewhere, and we watched some classic Dr Who on Friday. It was certainly interesting, though I missed David and Chris. Which reminds me that I forgot to mention "Are you deducting?" was possibly, and somewhat inexplicably, the sexiest thing David's said all series. And then what followed made me kind of melty.
And I also forgot, "I'm being facetious. There's no call for it." *loves*
And now, to conclude, I would like Brazil to win. I always do, which seems to be a family thing, but I thought I'd mention it so I can say I said it before they actually do win. *If* they win, I suppose.