KILLER momfluencer analysis at Mothers Under the Influence.
“Let’s admit that there is something a little off about the scale on some of these huge ones. I’m wondering, as they’re being eaten, is someone continually refreshing them? (The company I spoke to does not “replenish”, but often home hosts will.) Do they ever get picked-over to the point of looking a little sparse? And if not, what happens to all that leftover food? There is a kind of party food that is meant to be demolished — I’m thinking of fondues, dips, platters of wings. It’s a sign of a dish’s success when you’re greedily scraping the last of the sauce from the platter with the bony edge of the last wing. The mark of a successful grazing table is the way it looks before it’s eaten.
I spoke to the owner of a Texas-based charcuterie company who remarked that charcuterie is “all about the way it looks.” The flavours, in her view, are secondary to the visual effect.The experience of abundance can have nuance, but grazing tables are bugle blasts of plenty. Something about how the food is arranged with great care so that everyone can approach it individually, as opposed to sharing it deliberately among themselves, makes the abundance feel static — even a bit dead.“
Loving this take on charcuterie boards’ popularity on instagram. And HOW MUCH do I want to read that History of Crop Art and Dairy Sculpture book?!
A great piece that starts with Dolly Parton, proceeds through Valerie Solanas, and ends with Oyèrónkẹ́ Oyěwùmí’s understanding of womanhood.
very cool how the gender binary in the emerging trad terf synthesis is like, there are two genders, the one that does bad things and the one that bad things are done to. the only thing in the world is immorality and it flows from unexperiencing agents to unacting experiencers.
which naturally appeals to people who would like to be perceived as inherently lacking the capacity for immorality. for whatever reason
anyway remember bell hooks’s very cogent critique of second-wave feminist organizing in ‘sisterhood: solidarity between women’ where she argues that by “bonding as ‘victims’, white women’s liberationists were not required to assume responsibility for confronting the complexity of their own experience … Identifying as ‘victims’, they could abdicate responsibility for their role in the maintenance and perpetuation of sexism, racism, and classism.” it’s not by accident that terf gender essentialism dovetails so much with other biological-determinist & essentialist assumptions including Extremely Racist Ones
The OG Judith Butler always makes me feel calm and supported, her work and the work of the other theorists that she quotes above provide such a solid background to work against TERF ideology. Her second paragraph here makes a great point linking all social justice movements together. (via birdlord)
LOL FOREVER that the Guardian removed this whole question & answer from the interview, way to stick by your principles!
The OG Judith Butler always makes me feel calm and supported, her work and the work of the other theorists that she quotes above provide such a solid background to work against TERF ideology. Her second paragraph here makes a great point linking all social justice movements together.
I just listened a few weeks ago to the Decoder Ring episode that is about this incident and BOY HOWDY did I not remember it correctly! The quote comes from an essay about The Jonathans of Fiction that is worth your time if you were a reader of What We Call Literary Fiction around the turn of the millennium.
A deep dive into the destruction of the Saddam Hussein statue that invaded global media in 2003. Turns out the place was lousy with Saddam statues, and lots of them were pulled down without much fanfare at all! I’ve been listening to podcasts about the Iraq war lately, it seems like the post-Trump media is heading back ~ 20 years to reckon with the fallout from the Bush years.
American reporter who worked on pickup artist and Mens Rights Activist online communities moves to the UK in 2018 and discovers very similar tendencies among trans-exclusionary users of a forum called Mumsnet. Forest: unseeable due to abundance of trees!
Somehow I thought that cathedrals taking hundreds of years to be built was a thing of the past, but St John the Divine in New York has been under construction for 128 years, and it ain’t done yet. This is a great piece about the relationship between buildings, institutions, and humans.
Everything I Watched in 2020
We’ll start with movies. The number in parentheses is the year of release, asterisks denote a re-watch, and titles in bold are my favourite watches of the year. Here’s 2019’s list.
01 Little Women (19)
02 The Post (17)
03 Molly’s Game (17)
04 * Doctor No (62)
05 Groundhog Day (93)
06 *Star Trek IV - The Voyage Home (86)
07 Knives Out (19) My last theatre experience (sob)
The Last Documented Widow of a Civil War Veteran Has Died
On December 16, 2020, Helen Viola Jackson died in Marshfield, Missouri at the age of 101. She was the last known widow of a Civil War veteran, marrying 93-year-old James Bolin in 1936 at the age of 17.
James Bolin was a 93-year-old widower when Jackson’s father volunteered her to stop by his house each day and assist him with chores as she headed home from school.
Bolin, who was a private in the 14th Missouri Cavalry and served until the end of the war in Co. F, did not believe in accepting charity and after a lengthy period of time asked Jackson for her hand in marriage as a way to provide for her future.
“He said that he would leave me his Union pension,” Jackson explained in an interview with Historian Hamilton C. Clark. “It was during the depression and times were hard. He said that it might be my only way of leaving the farm.”
Jackson didn’t talk publicly about her marriage until the last few years and never applied for the pension – the last person receiving a Civil War pension from the US government died in mid-2020. As I wrote then, about the Great Span:
This is a great example of the Great Span, the link across large periods of history by individual humans. But it’s also a reminder that, as William Faulkner wrote: “The past is never dead. It’s not even past.” Until this week, US taxpayers were literally and directly paying for the Civil War, a conflict whose origins stretch back to the earliest days of the American colonies and continues today on the streets of our cities and towns.
(via @jerometenk)
this story fucks me RIGHT UP
This is a great little story about the gas industry using influencers to promote cooking on gas stoves. I’ve only rarely had one at home, but it sounds like for indoor-pollution and for greenhouse gas reasons (natural gas is cleaner than some fuels, but if you are advocating for green electricity in your area or installing it at your house, you’d best be cooking and heating with said electricity) it’s best to avoid them. It hurts me a little, though I wonder how much of that enjoyment has been constructed by the industry. NOW YOU’RE COOKING WITH GAS & so on
oh my god.
let me share a memory with y’all. it’s from i guess 1978 or thereabouts. it’s high summer. i don’t remember where my mom was driving me, in our avocado green chevette, i just know there was a traffic jam that turned 35w northbound into a parking lot from horizon to horizon.
picture it – wait, you don’t have to use your imagination, this happened all the damn time back then.
every one of those damn cars was burning leaded gasoline. there were no emissions regulations. there were no safety regulations. there were just thousands and thousands of detroit steel shoeboxes belching visible smoke as they idled, engines loud and hot, here and there a radiator giving up in the heat, a cloud of burning oil rising.
i, a smeet of five or six, was choking on toxic smog.
i reckon it was about a half hour into the traffic jam that i first threw up. i remember a blinding headache, i remember being confused, i remember dry heaving with my arms and head hanging out the window, the green metal of the car burning my hands and my chin. i don’t remember passing out, but i’m told i lost consciousness before mom was able to get to an off-ramp, because there were no emergency lanes on the highways back then.
i lived. and life went on. what were we going to do, complain? if i’d died, the cause of death probably would’ve been recorded as heatstroke, not carbon monoxide poisoning.
i know i’m probably preaching to the choir here on tumblr. but i really wish i could tell that story to the people who think deregulation is no big deal. i wish they’d put themselves in my mom’s shoes.
or even just look at some old pictures, then look out the window.
ever notice how cityscapes used to have that orange tint and hazy aura? yeah, that’s poison gas.
remember how the mississippi river used to be a stinking soup of baby-shit yellow sludge covered with disturbingly stiff rafts of light orange foam?
i can’t even find pictures of the sludge and foam, i guess they didn’t end up on the internet. the smell was indescribable. that oily shimmer. the reek of dead things. people didn’t boat on the river for pleasure; it smelled too bad, it was too ugly, and you could get super super sick if you touched the water.
and now look at it.
i still wouldn’t want to drink it, but if i fell in i wouldn’t bolt for the shower in a panic, you know?
if the thieving billionaires get their way, we can kiss those sailboats goodbye, and learn the smell of toxic foam once more. the ultra-rich won’t even feel the extra money, they’ve already got more than they could ever touch, they just stash it in offshore accounts to rot, but the rest of us will return to a time of neverending nausea and weird cancers. a time when every elementary school class had at least one kind who’d been born with no fingers or their heart outside their body, and this was just… the way things were.
i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to longpost. it’s just. god. y’all have no idea how CLEAN everything is now, compared to when i was a kid. and these rich old men are counting on that, on people not knowing or not remembering how bad it was before regulation, not realizing how much we need these protections until it’s too late.
I enforce federal worker health and safety and pollution regulations.
When I was learning my trade, when my classmates and I were having a chuckle over the “well duh” level of specificity written into the Code of Federal Regulations (try “no hazardous material shall be stored in crew berthing” on for size), I will never forget the silence that followed when our instructor spoke these words:
“Your regulations are written in blood.”
These regulations were not written on a whim. They were written because someone thought they could cut costs by storing however many more pounds of a radioactive, toxic, carcinogenic, or whatever else material in the same rooms where the human beings they paid to transport those materials slept, and then did that, because no one was telling them not to.
They were written because people died. Horrifically. Because unregulated capitalism values profit over human life and suffering.
Can I say it again, for those not paying attention?
Unregulated capitalism values profit over human life and suffering.