Our democratic duty
I seem to be having something of an angry feminist day, today. I'm not sure why this is; I think it was sparked off by the combined frustration of knowing that UKIP had gained a lot of seats in yesterday's elections, and being unable to see the damage, thanks to the BBC's website requiring a more up to date browser than I have. Neither of these are particularly feminist issues, although there are almost certainly some really obvious arguments as to why UKIP is anti-feminist.
I have now managed to determine that Leeds results are not out yet, but enough is known to be sure that the council is a hold for Labour (hooray); but I am still grumpy. I ended up on the Telegraph website at one point, in the hope that its election reporting would be less hi-tech than the BBC; what I discovered instead was a significant discrepancy in seats (Telegraph think UKIP hold 96 up from 10; BBC say 94 up from 1; surely the number of seats previously held cannot be debatable?), and discovered that the majority of Telgraph headlines apparently make me angry.
Also, it turns out that my office-mate didn't vote. Which in itself annoys me, but what really pisses me off, what really makes me kind of furious and disappointed and the thing which, also, I really don't fucking understand is this: he thinks he didn't have time.
Yeah. Apparently a 15-hour window of opportunity, during which all he had to do was make a short journey - and he has a car, it's not like he might have had to take a bus a significant distance - and tick a couple of boxes, apparently this is not enough time.
'Oh, but I was helping my wife prepare for a job interview today,' he said. Well, good for you; the fact remains that voting takes such a tiny, tiny fraction of your day, and so many people have sacrificed so much for you to be able to vote; and, since we are not in Zimbabwe, or even Ukraine, we don't have to worry about seeing armed militia outside polling stations. We don't have to consider the immediate safety of ourselves or our family when choosing how to vote, and we are entitled by law to keep that choice a secret.
All of these are fantastic priviliges, and I still feel kind of excited and proud every time I vote - I hope I always will - and yet D. was apparently too busy to bother.
(Incidentally, on the topic of the secret ballot the BBC article on no selfies in polling booths says this:Under Section 66 of the Representation of the People's Act it is a criminal offence to communicate information about the way someone has voted or is about to vote - or to communicate the unique identification number on the ballot paper.
- but presumably this is not the whole story, otherwise it would be illegal for me to tell you that I voted Labour, which seems ridiculous?)
The other thing that bothers me about it is his naiveté (if I'm being charitable; 'thoughtless laziness' if I'm not) in saying that he 'thought it was obvious that UKIP wouldn't win.'
Again, I just ... don't understand. What is obvious is that UKIP's popularity has been growing for months. What is obvious is that voters disillusioned by the failings of the coalition government will vote elsewhere. What is obvious is that if you don't vote, you are throwing away your right to decide who runs your council and your country, and in the process you are making it easier for the bigots to win by reducing the number of votes they need to win a seat.
On a lighter note, via Feministing, I bring you You balls are not that big, and the explanation, Saving room for cats. You're welcome.
(I say a lighter note, the following quote, originally from Feministe, struck a chord and therefore made me angry again:"Men take up space, lots of space. They’re taught to spread arms and legs all over the place, make wide gestures, power through crowds. They’re taught to expect everyone to get out of their way and be affronted when that doesn’t happen. I, a woman, have learned to shrink and move aside and squeeze myself to be as small as possible, feel bad for taking up the space I need."
Yeah.)
(I am hoping to post an edited version of this on scientiste; I've completely failed at posting much at all there, let alone my 'once or twice a month' target, and I'd like to make it up, and continue (perhaps even complete!) the medical physics series.)
I have now managed to determine that Leeds results are not out yet, but enough is known to be sure that the council is a hold for Labour (hooray); but I am still grumpy. I ended up on the Telegraph website at one point, in the hope that its election reporting would be less hi-tech than the BBC; what I discovered instead was a significant discrepancy in seats (Telegraph think UKIP hold 96 up from 10; BBC say 94 up from 1; surely the number of seats previously held cannot be debatable?), and discovered that the majority of Telgraph headlines apparently make me angry.
Also, it turns out that my office-mate didn't vote. Which in itself annoys me, but what really pisses me off, what really makes me kind of furious and disappointed and the thing which, also, I really don't fucking understand is this: he thinks he didn't have time.
Yeah. Apparently a 15-hour window of opportunity, during which all he had to do was make a short journey - and he has a car, it's not like he might have had to take a bus a significant distance - and tick a couple of boxes, apparently this is not enough time.
'Oh, but I was helping my wife prepare for a job interview today,' he said. Well, good for you; the fact remains that voting takes such a tiny, tiny fraction of your day, and so many people have sacrificed so much for you to be able to vote; and, since we are not in Zimbabwe, or even Ukraine, we don't have to worry about seeing armed militia outside polling stations. We don't have to consider the immediate safety of ourselves or our family when choosing how to vote, and we are entitled by law to keep that choice a secret.
All of these are fantastic priviliges, and I still feel kind of excited and proud every time I vote - I hope I always will - and yet D. was apparently too busy to bother.
(Incidentally, on the topic of the secret ballot the BBC article on no selfies in polling booths says this:Under Section 66 of the Representation of the People's Act it is a criminal offence to communicate information about the way someone has voted or is about to vote - or to communicate the unique identification number on the ballot paper.
- but presumably this is not the whole story, otherwise it would be illegal for me to tell you that I voted Labour, which seems ridiculous?)
The other thing that bothers me about it is his naiveté (if I'm being charitable; 'thoughtless laziness' if I'm not) in saying that he 'thought it was obvious that UKIP wouldn't win.'
Again, I just ... don't understand. What is obvious is that UKIP's popularity has been growing for months. What is obvious is that voters disillusioned by the failings of the coalition government will vote elsewhere. What is obvious is that if you don't vote, you are throwing away your right to decide who runs your council and your country, and in the process you are making it easier for the bigots to win by reducing the number of votes they need to win a seat.
On a lighter note, via Feministing, I bring you You balls are not that big, and the explanation, Saving room for cats. You're welcome.
(I say a lighter note, the following quote, originally from Feministe, struck a chord and therefore made me angry again:"Men take up space, lots of space. They’re taught to spread arms and legs all over the place, make wide gestures, power through crowds. They’re taught to expect everyone to get out of their way and be affronted when that doesn’t happen. I, a woman, have learned to shrink and move aside and squeeze myself to be as small as possible, feel bad for taking up the space I need."
Yeah.)
(I am hoping to post an edited version of this on scientiste; I've completely failed at posting much at all there, let alone my 'once or twice a month' target, and I'd like to make it up, and continue (perhaps even complete!) the medical physics series.)