As part of my Life List, I’m photographing all the public libraries in San Francisco.
Dashiell Hammet‘s typewriter.
Bust of Harvey Milk, the first openly gay man to be elected to public office in California.
Hello, fellow book lovers. Right now, the California Library Association is trying to restore $15.2 million in State funding in hopes of preventing the loss of $16 million in Federal funding. Please take a minute to write a letter or two in support of restoring funding. All the information you need is here, so go get yourself a pen.
If you liked this post, you might also like:
Library Portraits Project: Potrero Branch
Library Portraits Project: Golden Gate Valley Branch
Library Images from Around the World
The Best Parts of Bossy Pants by Tina Fey
The Best Parts of Let’s Pretend This Never Happened by Jenny Lawson
Did you read this article on Jezebel, How to Make a Rape Joke, by Lindy West? It touches on the controversy surrounding Daniel Tosh making a rape joke from stage and online reaction to his comment.
“If people don’t want to be offended, they shouldn’t go to comedy clubs? Maybe. But if you don’t want people to react to your jokes, you shouldn’t get on stage and tell your jokes to people.”
“And being an “equal opportunity offender”—as in, “It’s okay, because Daniel Tosh makes fun of ALL people: women, men, AIDS victims, dead babies, gay guys, blah blah blah”—falls apart when you remember (as so many of us are forced to all the time) that all people are not in equal positions of power. “Oh, don’t worry—I punch everyone in the face! People, baby ducks, a lion, this Easter Island statue, the ocean…” Okay, well that baby duck is dead now. And you’re a duck-murderer.”
I should say that Daniel Tosh makes me laugh, and he seems to be a decent person from what I’ve seen of his work, though of course I’ve never had the guy over for dinner. Still, West’s overall points are so well argued. She articulates the case for what it means to respect the horror of rape without avoiding the topic altogether. Really well done.
I especially enjoyed the examples of appropriate ways for comedians to approach the topic of rape. Is rape ever funny? No. Can comedy be an appropriate forum for commentary on “the absurd and horrific sense of entitlement that accompanies taking over someone else’s body like you’re hungry and it’s a delicious hoagie”? Absolutely.
What do you think?
Update: A few of you mentioned “A Woman Walks Into a Rape, uh Bar” by Harriet Jacobs, which is also thoughtful and well written. Some excerpts:
“Let me tell you a thing you might not know: the inability to hear rape “jokes” without flashbacks, Hulk rage, and “air quotes” is one of the enduring parting gifts of a rapist.”
“For those of you who wonder why rape victims get all super sensitive about rape jokes ‘n shit, well, this is why. Before you’re raped, rape jokes might be uncomfortable, or they might be funny, or they might be any given thing. But after you’re raped, they are a trigger. They make you remember what was done to you.”
Wye Oak photo by Natalie Kardos
Are you crying right now? I made this for you.
Out the Airlock, Paul Dempsey
Better Than Nothing, Sarah Jaffe
The Way We Ought to Be, Indigo Swing
Love Love Love, Of Monsters and Men
New Ceremony, Dry the River
Hate to See You Like This, Fountains of Wayne
Sugar, Dan Wilson
About Today, The National
Any Day Will Do Fine, Michael Kiwanuka
Doubt, Wye Oak
I’ll Catch You, The Get Up Kids
When the Night Comes, Dan Auerbach
Mama, You Been On My Mind, Jeff Buckley
Rain, Patty Griffin
Do you ever arrange your music by mood? What have you been listening to lately?
BAM! I made shot glasses out of apricots! Because I am a Lady MacGyver. These contain tequila, so I regret not salting the rims to make Margarita Bites. Be ye not so thoughtless.
They’re easy to make. Three steps:
1. Test your apricots to make sure they’ll stand up on their bums.
2. While your apricot is standing on a flat surface, take a metal cap (I used one from a booze bottle), and press it into the stem end.
3. Use a knife or small spoon to pull out the top and the pit beneath.
Voila, drunkards! Tiny little booze bombs.
Happy Fourth of July tomorrow! Please do not do shots and light things on fire. Love, Maggie
Adding my voice to the chorus of folks recommending Aaron Sorkin’s The Newsroom. I watched the first full episode this morning on YouTube, and it gave me hope chills. Click here to see it, the embedding is disabled. (Booo!)
Here’s a brief synopsis:
It’s about how Americans have become so divided, in part because of how the media panders to our fears, pitting our worst selves against one another.
If you have a little extra time this weekend, invest it here.
Hey, team. I’ve recently had two girlfriends suffer chemical depression that they feel is related to breast feeding — either feeding or weaning. For the record, I’m pro breastfeeding, but con debilitating sadness. I just wanted to link to these posts in case any of you are suffering from something similar and trying to figure out what’s up.
Joanna Goddard from A Cup of Jo on Depression and Weaning
Helen Jane of HelenJane.com on Depression and Breastfeeding Hormones
I’m also hoping to bump the info up on search engines so it’s easier to unearth for other women who may be trying to figure out why they’re crying all the time even though they’re technically past the post-partum depression window.
Have you had a similar experience? If so, you’re welcome to leave stories and links to posts on the subject in comments.
Again! I am pro breastfeeding, and boobs in general. Thanks to Joanna and HJ for speaking up, breastfeeding is a scary issue to address online. Brave. Low fives, ladies.
I’ve been following the comments on my link to the Dark Girls documentary over the last few days, and it has been an education for me. Excerpts from a few comments that I thought deserved more attention.
“…When I came to college, I was able to learn more about the history of Africa and learn about where my family comes from. I didn’t meet black guys who were interested in me which I thought came from me not being involved in a black sorority or in the Black Student Union. When I started to interact with other black students through work and volunteering, I still felt very separated from the “traditionally black” groups. Save for black girls with real (meaning really close) roots in Africa or the Caribbean (a girl whose parents are from Senegal and another whose roots are Native American and Haitian have been two friends I’ve made in the past four years) I’m dismissed by other black girls, too.
I feel guilty saying that it’s because of my dark skin color, because that discounts the fact that maybe I’m an awful person (and maybe I am!) or maybe our personalities don’t sync up. But, I’ve seen girls and boys who have ignored me in African American and African Studies classes excitedly interact with groups of friends I have who run the gambit in personalities but who represent the whitest end of the color spectrum. So, in four years, I’ve learned to draw conclusions.
It’s complicated and it’s a big deal, as evidenced by the little girl in the video who sees race as an indicator of intelligence and beauty, so it’s really hard for me to draw conclusions outside of the ones that I’ve made for myself.
It sounds so trite and Dove campaign-y but I love my skin. In my skin I see my grandmother, a woman I’ve only known in pictures; I see the skin of my ancestors, whom I’ve never seen but who I know looked like me. I see history and I am so lucky to be able to carry that around with me.” -Beatrice
“[On my camera,] I use the ‘lighter skin tone’ setting and flash, sickened by my preference for a lighter me…
The girl I babysit, a sweet, Caucasian girl of age seven, asked the other day, “Do you like having brown skin?”
I stuttered and said something along the lines of, “I guess,” ashamed that I was ashamed of something so natural and uncontrollable as the color of my skin, hating myself for hating myself.” From “Let us be colorful, darling” a post by Lamisa
“…I am Indian. My mother was light/fair skinned and my father was dark skinned. I inherited my father’s darker tones. My mother would scold me constantly for being in the sun and hated when I looked dark. She had stupid creams on me when I was little that would blister and burn my skin.” -Calypso
“You know what’s crazy? That a lot of white girls spend a ton of time and money trying to make their skin darker… Understand: I am in no way trying to say that it’s the same thing as the experience of dark-skinned women… But it just struck me, why are we all programmed to want to be different from how we are?” -Amy
“Wow…unfortunately, this brings back sad memories for me. As a dark skinned African American woman I too heard these comments throughout my life. My saving grace was my beloved grandfather who told me every day that I was beautiful and special and a gift from God. Because of his counter attack on all the negative comments, I grew to love my brown skin. Just goes to show that love can wipe away a multitude of sins.” -Dar