Hear/Say » Washington

Down with the Beautiful Bourgeoisie

admin — Mon, 24 May 2010 18:31:26 +0000

We Uglies are at it again.

Never smile at me, Chamillionaire

Was reading through a collection of articles crying about how dumb Sarah Palin was/is/continues to be, on theweek.com when several ridiculous headlines caught my eye, the most ridiculous one titled “America’s Bigoted Love for Beauty”. This is an article on another article, titled “Why Looks are the Last Bastion of Discrimination” in the Washington Post. What a waste of space, right? Because by dramatically stating looks as the last bastion, it seems like the journalist fails to acknowledge that racism and sexism still exist. And they’re obviously not using “looks” as a reference to ethnic minorities say, under current Arizonian BS.

So who cares? There are tons of ugly beautiful beautiful uglies, and we still have to carry on with life– plastic surgery seems to be worsening physical appeal, in my opinion, but other then that drastic and unnecessary measure to temporarily reign in our insecurities, people carry on and grow more beautiful once they work with what they have.

Just like racial or gender discrimination, discrimination based on irrelevant physical characteristics reinforces invidious stereotypes and undermines equal-opportunity principles based on merit and performance. And when grooming choices come into play, such bias can also restrict personal freedom.

So complain about it. People don’t like the way we look: how will any public policy on making people feel more equally attracted to uglies as well as beauties?

Appearance-related bias also exacerbates disadvantages based on gender, race, ethnicity, age, sexual orientation and class. Prevailing beauty standards penalize people who lack the time and money to invest in their appearance. And weight discrimination, in particular, imposes special costs on people who live in communities with shortages of healthy food options and exercise facilities.

The article tries to be relevant by mentioning heavier political implications– gender/race/ethnicity/age– and I’m not saying we should try to avoid these discriminations (c’mon y’all, everyone has a heart, even the ones with too much blush and orange skin), but it’s just like arguments about stereotypes. They can be revealing, and they’re consistently there because there is a root of cultural or social truth.

If I were to consider between an overweight job candidate and a physically fit one, I would probably choose the physically fit: an obese person might need to reprioritize their health standards and I wouldn’t want to pay for their insurance against heart disease, heart attacks, or any other bodily harm they’re more susceptible to. It’s not even as if I think they’re lazy, but tremendously overweight people will have more difficulty in physical movement and energy endurance. Obviously, some are more genetically proned to gain more weight at a faster rate, and I don’t ignore this: but there it is again: life isn’t fair. Some people have to work harder at one thing in life and maybe not so much in another: you can’t win them all.

The Washington Post article is also contextually contradicting: while they bring up the issue of discrimination based on appearance, the businesses they solicit for responses are usually services reliant on selling beauty:

Employers often argue that attractiveness is job-related; their workers’ appearance, they say, can affect the company’s image and its profitability. In this way, the Borgata blamed its weight limits on market demands. Customers, according to a spokesperson, like being served by an attractive waitress. The same assumption presumably motivated the L’Oreal executive who was sued for sex discrimination in 2003 after allegedly ordering a store manager to fire a salesperson who was not “hot” enough.

How do they completely miss this? There is an entire industry on beauty products and luxury designer clothing they can attack because of the shallow and frivolous values they advertise, but instead they blame employers on choosing candidates that are more attractive to them. It’s not really something you can argue; of course someone will choose to associate with someone they feel more attracted to– platonically or otherwise.

In any case, the articles/topic will fail to promote any action by us Uglies. Just by relating to the article, we implicate our own lack of beauty, and confirm the beastly ugliness that supposedly might keep us unemployed.

FAIL, press.Fail.

Graceee

PKR

admin — Mon, 17 May 2010 06:43:57 +0000

Done with my essay! In tee minus 5 hours! Went by like a work shift.

I used to be able to listen to music for endless days. It sounds so anti-trendy and boring of me, but lately I’ve been very appreciate of natural noise. The house I room in is old, and I can tell if my neighbors are stepping in a certain squeaky spot or the low growl in the middle of the room. Sometimes it sounds like they’re doing gymnastics.

And I wouldn’t be surprised if they were. Just the other day I ran into them (boy+girl) coming back from the Washington Parkour gym in Fremont. I freaked and told them they were super cool, and then they mistakenly invited me to come. Mistakenly, because I am a clown in coordination. Movement through doorways have been a notorious challenge, and have previously resulted in a broken toe and a gallery of more serious bruises.

But parkour! Imagine going outside and physical movement as outlets for creativity! — rather than the rather introverted and narcissistic empire of online social networking (which I admittedly participate in. C’mon, I have a blog). It would be cool to be physically talented. Yes, I said that; the first step is denial…

Freerunning is a sport closely related:

And parkour is always quite practical in an M.I.A’s “Born Free” sort-of-world, or perhaps if Tyler Durden had succeeded Project Mayhem:

Or if you’re waiting for Odegaard to open because you don’t know their hours as well as you should:

via washingtonparkour.com. Oh that's what they're for

via washingtonparkour.com

My day, on the other hand, roughly consists of day-dreams about mango sticky rice and holding hands with Michael Cera.

via nypress.com

Darling.

Graceee

A Poet’s Breath

admin — Wed, 05 May 2010 17:31:07 +0000

"Love Letter" G. S

University of Washington’s hosting a free poet’s reading at the Roethke Auditorium; free admission. Might be going. The poet: Gjertrud Schnackenberg. If her name’s not enough, I’ve just read one of her poems “Love Letter”, and it’s quite impressive. When teachers teach poetry, there’s always the T.S. Eliot, the Whitman and Poe and of course Baudelaire, but I wish they would introduce some more contemporary stars onto the scene. Perhaps I just need to take more poetry classes.

I haven’t read many contemporary poems, but many young authors that do write poetry tire me out– themes of intense emotions, or ghastly images symbolizing some sort of angst or lack 0f– in their lives, oh, how to express them through typical words and typical themes of violent love, or sinking despair– but what dazzles me with poetry is the nuances of precise moments in a life; the hidden and subtle that you feel so fully but at the same time, take for granted, or lack expression in describing such swells in your heart or thick tongues in your skull. I dislike the performance of poetry; I would prefer the simple medium of existing… after all, you can’t try too hard to be a poet; in fact, trying isn’t really an option, is it? Those with an extraordinary ability to communicate micromoments of life in a way that transports an audience with their eyes open (unrealizing that they’ve been transported until the last quatrain hangs in the air and dissolves with the audience’s wistful sigh) are simply themselves… simply… human.

Here’s Schnackenberg’s “Love Letters”:

Love Letter

Dear love, though I am a hopeless correspondent,
I found your letter habits lacking too
Till I received your card from H.-lulu.
It made me more-than-slightly-less despondent
To see how you transformed your ocean swim
Among dumb bubble-blowers into meters
And daffy rhymes about exotic tweeters
Beyond your balcony at 2 a.m.

I went to bed when you went to Hawaii,
And shut my eyes so tightly I saw stars,
And clenched my sheets like wadded-up memoirs
And made some noise like wah-wah-wah, i.e.,
I find your absence grimly problematic.
The days stack up like empty cardboard boxes
In ever-higher towers of cardboard
Swaying in senseless-lost-time’s spooky attic.
I’ll give the -atic rhyme another try.
To misconstrue the point-of-view Socratic,
Life is a painful stammered-out emphatic
Pronunciation of the word Goodbye.

Or, as it came out on the telephone,
Sooner-the-better is the way I see it:
Just say, “I guess not”; I’ll reply, “So be it.”
Beloved, if you throw this dog a bone,
TO readopt the stray-dog metaphor,
I’ll keep my vigil till the cows come home.
You’ll hear me howling over there in Rome.
I have no explanations, furthermore–
But let me say I’ve had it up to here
With scrutinizing the inscrutable;
The whys and how-comes of immutable
Unhesitating passion are unclear–

I don’t love you because you’re good at rhymes,
And not because I think you’re not-so-dumb,
I don’t love you because you make me come
And come and come innumerable times,
And not for your romantic overcoats,
And not because our friends all say I should,
And not because we wouldn’t or we would
Be or not be at one another’s throats,
And not because your accent thrills my ear–
Last night you said not “sever” but “severe,”
But then “severe” describes the act “to sever”–
I love you for no reason whatsoever.

And that’s the worst, as William S. the Bard
Wrote out in black-and-white while cold-and-hot:
Reasons can be removed, but love cannot.
The comic view insists: Don’t take it hard,
But every day I’m pacing up and down
The hallway till I drive my neighbors mad,
And evenings come with what-cannot-be-had
As lights blink on around this boring town,
Whence I unplug the phone and draw the shade
And drink myself half-blind and fantasize
That we’re between the sheets, your brilliant eyes
Open me and, bang, we have it make–
When in reality I sit alone
And, staring at my hands, I think “I think
Till love and fame to nothingness do sink”
While hating everything I’ve always known
About how you and I are sunk as well.

Under the aspect of eternity
The world has already ended anyway.
And, without you, my life can go to hell
On roller skates, as far as I’m concerned.
Two things are clear: these quatrains should be burned,
And love is awful, but it leads us to
Our places in the human comedy,
Frescoes of which abound in Italy.
And though I won’t be sitting next to you,
I’ll take my seat with minimal complaints.
May you sit in the company of saints
And intellectuals and fabulous beauties,
And not forget this constant love of Trude’s.

Gjertrud Schnackenberg

http://www.poemhunter.com/

Conquistadora

admin — Thu, 07 Jan 2010 11:49:29 +0000

COM Rome program at the Spanish Steps

So I made it to Rome.

A decent 8 hour flight ruined by a stuffy cabin. My body lost control of its temperature as it slipped into a feverish frenzy. I distracted myself with The September Issue, which is a great documentary on Vogue and the inner methodological workings and politics in the world of fashion, and then made a Bad Decision by watching 500 Days of Summer, or as I would love to name it, 500 Days of SUCK. I’ll admit I’m in crush with Zooey Deschanel and her alt-vintage-60′s hipster look and haircut, but an entire movie need not be dedicated as her personal music video with a slip-shod plot. But it was all worth it when Amsterdam displayed beautifully fragrant restrooms, and even more glorious when I finally arrived to Rome, Italy.

Today was our first day of class; these past few days have consisted of catching up on sleep, settling in, and an evening at the Drunken Ship.

So far, I have to say:

1. Cobblestones are a way of life

2. So are fine Italian boots

3. … and fine Italian men.

4. … and bidets.

More to come, amoré.

Gracious

Power Through It

admin — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 19:35:24 +0000

I love old people

OMG, getting old. I’ve been thinking about this lately. I’ve noticed my cheeks gradually sinking, my laugh lines deepening with threat of imminent mortality… tender 21 my ass.

A beautiful autumn morning today in Seattle– crisp, sunny, UNwet… for once. I’m sure tomorrow will disappoint.

Today I received several pleasant e-mails, one of which notified me that I am being featured on Imagekind’s “Featured Artist” site. Which is super exciting! I’m the one on top, too! You don’t even have to scroll down!!!! ;asldkfja!!!

As a boi

Rainn Wilson is coming to UW/Seattle and I’m attending his event on November 6th. He’s promoting his website, soulpancake.com. Followed by Q/A, and a $30 “hang out sess” with the Dwight Schrute IRL.He’s donating all proceeds to a charity of choice…it will be an entertaining evening, at the very least.

Fall quarter is always a punch in the gut. You either take the punch well because you’ve flexed, or it makes you vomit summer laziness all over your homework. I think I’ve flexed. I think.

Some incredibly interesting pieces mixing shapes and linear graphics with human forms:

via butdoesitfloat.com

By Erik Nitsche. See more of his pieces HERE.

Aiiii!!!! Blogg-ed-about it lates!

Gracie