Sunday, January 01, 2006

New Year's Resolutions I'd Like to See Made

Today, the Butcher came home with a DVD player. Which is good, because he's got the Playstation up in his room now, hooked up to a TV he acquired from someplace, and nothing says uncomfortable like lying in your brother's bed, surrounded by his dirty laundry watching DVDs on the old Playstation. I don't know where the money for the DVD player came from. I don't want to know. Instead, I spent the afternoon napping (my body provides me snot, my brain provides me dreams in which Jesse James takes me out drinking. I think we can see that my brain clearly loves me better than my body does. And I try so hard to spend quality time with my body. I'm always talking about how great my tits are and keeping it covered in smooches when I can and yet... and yet... it's the old brain that keeps coming through for me.) and watching DVDs. I watched some David Cross thingy, which was funny, but... But what? Hmm. I think it was very funny. It's just that I just finished The Triplettes of Belleville which I adored so much that all else pales in comparison. Oh, to be a singleminded, sweet grandma with a dog so marvelous! Or at the least, an old woman with crazy siblings who would take in such a grandma. Shug has been getting all nostalgic (with a hint of bitter) about high school and talking a lot about how her family is still kind of waiting around for her to meet a man and settle down and pop out some kids*. I can sympathize. It's easy enough to get sidetracked waiting around for ordinary shit to happen. And easy enough to feel like, if you don't have the kind of life that everyone else has, there must be something wrong with you. Let's take my darling Kleinheider, for instance, who I now never want to meet, because I'm imagining that he's imagining that I'm some Beyonce-clone, but getting it on with both Hova and Kelly Rowland and I want just one person in the world to think that highly of me. I'd hate for him to meet me and realize that the differences between me and the more famous Aunt Bee are just not that much**. But, back to my point, which is that Kleinheider spouts some crazy nonsense, which is as follows:
I am shy, insecure, and socially inept. Hell, the people who know me don't even want to know me, not that much, so I never really have any expectations to meet. I don't know what people would be expecting meeting me. It's probably different for different people but inevitably they would be disappointed. It's not that I'm assuming their expectations would be high, but they would have some expectation and I'm not that interesting of a person. I would inevitably disappoint, I think.
Gentlemen, I am a feminist. A sick feminist who is, today, reduced to spending a lot of time whining about how crappy she feels, but a feminist nevertheless. How big a feminist? So big a feminist that my dad regularly reminds me that I've got to change my ways if I ever want a man to love me, because right now, even my own father thinks I'm too feminist for y'all. And so the fact that, yet again, I have to be the one to point some crap out to you just galls me. You have 10,000 years of patriarchal oppression under your belts and either despite that or because of that, y'all are a fucking mess. I just can't believe it. How, how am I supposed to feel good about fighting with y'all when you have no sense of your own value as people? I would like to know, either corporeally or virtually, one man with a sense of his own worth. Shoot, folks, I'm rambling now, but I think it's got to be done. I'm making New Year's Resolutions for the men. Here we go. 1. Kleinheider. You should resolve to stop it with the whole "I'm so boring and repulsive that if people were to ever meet me, it would be a race to see if they would die of boredom or clawing their eyes out at the sight of me" nonsense. I don't know, maybe you're just an open festering wound on the bottom of a disembodied foot in a jar on a shelf not even fit for a Beckett novel or horror movie, but you sell yourself short and it's bullshit. You're an incredible writer and a great thinker and, even though you're wrong, wrong, wrong all the time about almost everything, I respect the shit out of you. And so I have to tell you frankly that your self-doubt insults me. (And I know how you conservative men hate to insult women...) Do you honestly think I'd waste my time reading you if you sucked? And, for the record, I've seen a lot of middle Tennessee bloggers and we're not so cute ourselves (well, except for Brittney, but I think that goes without saying). 2. W., really, what the fuck? You should resolve to get a blog. And also cut it out with the "I'm boring and dull" crap, because, really, you're not. And also resolve to take more obnoxious and crazy girls out for drinks. If you need suggestions... well, really, then you're just not picking up on the subtle clues. 3. Wayward Boy Scout, you should resolve to be prepared. That is all. If you are not prepared the next time I see you, I'm kicking your ass. 4. The Internet. You should resolve to marry me, because you are one funny motherfucker and I love you. 5. Ryan, you should also resolve to marry me. I totally think you could take the Internet, unless he brought along the whole News2ActionCrew, and I'd love to watch a good fight over me. 6. Church Secretary, you should resolve to run for office. Not this year, because you've got the new kid and all, but soon. 7. Same goes for you, Bob Krumm. 8. Bill Hobbs, you should resolve that what's good for the goose is good for the gander. I eagerly await your scathing expose on bloggers who quote the lyrics to whole songs, which clearly goes beyond fair use. 9. Steve Pick, you should resolve to become envy-inducingly famous. 10. Roger Abramson, you should resolve to read whole posts before commenting on them. 11. Huck, you are smart and funny and have a real gift for writing. Believe me, you don't have to have a degree in English to write, you just have to have tenacity and hope. You just have to not be able to stand not doing it. I know that's not that easy, but it is that simple. Resolve to write your fucking book already. 12. Sarcastro, I wish that you would resolve to stop giving a shit what people who you're clearly better than think of you. Except for me. When I tell you that you suck, I'd prefer it to remain soul-crushing. 13. The Butcher, I wish you'd resolve to want better for yourself. Aw, fuck me, boys, you depress the hell out of me. You all should want better for yourselves. This really goes beyond that bullshitty "self-esteem" nonsense into just a general accurate sense of your own worth. Do you think there are a lot of women like me just laying around all day with nothing better to do than to tell you how great you are? Because there are not. No, I'm sorry. All you have, if you don't learn to do this shit for yourselves, is me and I think we all know what a half-assed crappy job I'd do as your cheerleader. So, please, resolve to take your heads out of your asses in the coming year. *She's also still insulting my chocolate chip cookies, which are, of course, delicious. **For the record, in my imagination, Kleinheider is a very scrawny Dolf Lundgren.


Blogger the Professor said...

Isn't saying that you do a half-assed crappy job as their cheerleader a great example of a self-depricating statement that you are resovling them to stop making? Have you been so convinced by the patriarchy to carefully, generously, and thoroughly attend to the menfolk in ways that leave you without any care for yourself? I am a little pissed. You know I think that feminists can love men (even if they don't love us well), but how does that statement demonstrate the love of self that any person, especially a feminist, needs to have?

1/01/2006 09:15:00 PM  
Blogger Aunt B said...

Hmm. No, I didn't intend it as and I still don't see it as a self-depricating statement at all.

I think you're reading it as me saying "I wouldn't be a good cheerleader, even if I put my mind to it" and I meant it as "Being your cheerleader wouldn't hold my interest for very long, and therefore it would suck for you to have me as your cheerleader."

1/01/2006 09:39:00 PM  
Anonymous The Man From GM said...

I think that you can both be a feminist and get young men to resolve to marry you.

You need to make your own resolution to actually return a phone call once in a while.

Yes, its true being feminist does not mean that you can't dial a phone.

Answering voice mail would help facilitate the courting process that one "would expect" from a suitor trying to get you to marry him (because you told him to on your blog).. (or allow high school friends to call and get/give advice, either way)...

Also, do feminists approve of reverse polygamy, or do you just like seeing men fight over you?

1/01/2006 10:20:00 PM  
Blogger Exador said...

Well, all that book lurnin, and you're still a dope.

I've met you, and then some, and you're about the most intriguing woman I've stumbled by in, hell, I don't know when.

You stand by and say, "All you men are so much better than you realize", without seeing that same thing in you.


1/01/2006 10:26:00 PM  
Anonymous brittney said...

[this is good]

1/01/2006 10:28:00 PM  
Blogger the Professor said...

Okay, I'll take you at your word here, but I still don't read that in the original post. And, I'm with exador. Of course, you know one of my favorite quotes is "we teach best what we most need to learn."

1/02/2006 12:23:00 AM  
Anonymous Sarcastro said...

I'd prefer if when I tell you what day it is over the phone, you don't chalk it up to a possible NyQuil induced hallucination.

1/02/2006 09:39:00 AM  
Blogger Sharon Cobb said...

I can't speak for Bill Hobbs, nor would I want to, but to address your statement about him going after bloggers who use entire lyrics, it's simply not a story.

There is a vast difference between using content from a C. for a non profit site than a network or network affiliate.

As someone who has used lyrics in both, when I worked for a network, the producer of the piece always fills out what is called a "cue sheet." That is submitted to the publisher of said song, and ASCAP, BMI, SESAC, Harry Fox Agency, etc., set the rate for usage. However, when lyrics used in a news context, publishers generally don't charge a royalty if it is a non profit news organization/site. Then there is the Hal Leonard Corp. which handles the sheet music for many of them. I've gone through then to get permission to reprint some or all of a song.
If this is really an interest of study for you, I'd be glad to sit down and show you all the paper work and what is required of whom and what isn't required.

Surfice to say, if you aren't selling it or reprinting it to make money from it, generally speaking, the publisher isn't interested. Still, I go through the Leonard Corp. who distributes all the sheet music I've used just to cover myself. I can't speak for anyone else using lyrics, I can only speak to what I do/have done. Of course, I am always clear I am not the author of said lyrics.
So I don't think Bill (or anyone else) would have much of a story unless the person or persons are making a profit by using lyrics, or, work for a profit making organization such as a network or network affiliate.

If this is a subject matter that really interests you, lets go to lunch and I'll show you all the proper forms from the performing rights organizations and what is required of whom and what isn't.


1/02/2006 10:16:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Okay, you've convinced me. I do so resolve.

I'm just going to go on record saying I only have 32 years of patriarchal oppression under my belt. And really, my first 18 years of experience were more like Matriarchal oppression.


1/03/2006 12:26:00 PM  
Blogger Aunt B said...

Ah, W., as usual, you so wisely point out a main drawback of the patriarchy--inefficient means of accumulating and conveying knowledge. Maybe y'all should consider a handbook of some sort. And perhaps, in the back, you could pencil in a little note that says "Note to self: Aunt B. loves vodka drinks." I'd be much easier to oppress with a constant supply of vodka and Bailey's. Just something to consider.

Sharon, I'm not trying to fight with you or pick a fight with you. I love fair use and could give a shit if you ask permission to post lyrics. I hope you don't and so don't care to see proof that you do.

I'm just saying that if someone is going to argue that posting an occassional whole post of someone's goes beyond fair use, then that same someone ought to be criticizing folks like you and Fritz who also post copyrighted material.

I was playing Devil's advocate, because I think you have every right to do so and, in some cases, a clear obligation.

1/03/2006 06:22:00 PM  
Blogger Ryan said...

"Ryan, you should also resolve to marry me." O' B, you make a boy blush. (Especially if I am the Ryan you speak of). But alas, I've learned my lesson on the marriage front and shall not hobble down that path again. I'll wine you and dine you and treat you to fine cigars; but I've done the whole "exercise in emasculation" bit--I just ain't any good at it. (I've been saving that phrase for a February post, so don't lyricize it just yet). The fact that you think I could "totally take the Internet" though makes me a little cocky. I'd put a up a little scrap over you.

Hope you are good.


1/03/2006 11:53:00 PM  
Blogger Aunt B said...

Now, Ryan, of course I meant you. We don't actually have to get married; I'd make a shitty wife, I think (hmm, that might make for a good post). But a tussle or two over me? A girl could live with that. And drinks? A girl could live happily with that as well.

1/04/2006 11:52:00 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Just so you know B, the patriarchy did just recently start a database to keep track of these things. I looked up your name. There are several contributions from Sarcastro on how to properly oppress you.


1/04/2006 12:08:00 PM  
Blogger Aunt B said...

Oh, damn it! I should have guessed.

1/04/2006 01:08:00 PM  
Blogger Exador said...

Maybe the problem is not with the teacher, but with the student.

1/04/2006 01:48:00 PM  

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