Showing posts with label you can laugh but you can't troll. Show all posts
Showing posts with label you can laugh but you can't troll. Show all posts

Monday, July 8, 2013

The Waiting Game


Photo Source


I hate waiting. I’ve always been impatient. Now, it seems the universe is out to teach me my big lesson on patience. I apparently will begin by learning to wait on EVERYTHING.

I’m waiting for my hair to grow back in.

I’m waiting for the pimples to go away.

I’m waiting for the stress and anxiety levels to go back down.

I’m waiting for my vitamin deficiencies (the official word from my doctor) to resolve.

I’m waiting to feel hungry again (the supplements I’m on don’t mix well with an anxious stomach).

I’m waiting to see if they accept our offer on the house.

In the evenings I wait for Jason to get home, and then I wait for supper to be over, and then for the boys to go to bed, and I don’t even know why… I end up falling asleep shortly thereafter. What the hell am I waiting for?

Related: I’m waiting for good television to come back on.

I’m waiting to see if I can connect with some of my friends and blatantly use them to get out of my funk. I think I really need to connect with some of my girlfriends. Like, y’all might want to start a phone call calendar.  And plan a weekend. Like, NOW. For Sarah’s sanity.

Have I mentioned I am trying to wait patiently for my hair to go back to normal?

I’m waiting for that divine spark of creativity to ignite in me, and then I find exactly what I am meant to contribute, what I am meant to share of myself. Can’t forget to mention that I’m waiting on that!

It feels as if I’m waiting on everything, even if it’s not really the case. And this, THIS MONSTROUSLY HUGE AND ANXIETY PRODUCING (and oh, my God, will even more of my hair fall out with all of this anxiety???) waiting game, which is likely little more than a figment of my imagination, is making you wait on things. Like regular posts. Or the coffee mug Alex won with the Spam Comments contest (Sorry Alex! I promise I will send it to you soon!). Or for me to do anything of any worth on social media (I don’t even remember the last time I signed onto Twitter). You see? Phone call calendar… Regular check-ins for Sarah… Let's all chip in to get her back on track...

Or perhaps I should take a deep breath, my lumps, and get over myself. Which is what I’m trying to do.

While I wait.

Thursday, February 28, 2013

On Inspiration Porn and Representation



I know, I know, I need to update you on the contest winner of the spam comment content (I will, I promise) and I also need to post something about the snownami that’s precluded me from getting numerous things done for the past week (because it was pretty damn funny, in hindsight) but before then I need to write a post. It’s not often that I feel compelled to write a post.

I need to write a post about ‘inspiration porn’ and the fallout I witnessed on a fellow blogger’s Facebook page when he dared to post that basketball video. Do you know which one I mean? It’s all over the Book of Face. It’s the one where the team allowed the team manager to suit up and play in the final game. He scores the last points of the game, after a member of the opposing team hands him the ball. His team had set him up with the ball several times, to no avail. It went in the final time. The big hoopla (pun completely intended) that started on Jim’s Facebook page was because the team manager had a developmental disability.


Inspiration porn (here is a much better description) as a term and as a critique hit the interwebs in a big, bad way last year. Several people with disabilities took offense to Tumblr/Pinterest pictures that, in essence, depict individuals with disabilities going about their lives with quotes that stated—in one shape or another—that those without disabilities should 1) stop whining about how hard their lives are, 2) see how difficult it can be for those with disabilities, and 3) be inspired to be better (usually physically) than we are now because those with disabilities are doing things that we would stereotypically think they were unable to do. That’s the inspiration part. The porn part comes about by having one’s body objectified for someone else’s emotional benefit.

Case in point, you can find this  picture on
Tumblr with titles such as "Suck it up, buttercup,"
and "No excuses".

And? I will readily admit that this sucks, I think it's wrong, and my eyes were opened quite a bit by the post I linked to in the paragraph above.  Yet…

While the basketball video didn’t have some items (the quote, for instance) that would mark it as inspiration porn, it did have some of the characteristics. Basketball games, for high school boys interested in such things, could be considered everyday business. There was someone with a disability present in it. And then there were able-bodied teen boys who were trying to assist him (with or without his desire for them to help him; we cannot know for certain) with something that they thought he wanted to do, and then feeling good about what they’d done. Oh, and the coach—who came up with this plan—felt pretty damn good about himself as well.

Nevertheless, many people—those with disabilities and those without-- consider the video to be a heartwarming depiction of how we should treat our fellow man—including those with disabilities. Others--a select group--thought it completely infringed on that young man’s rights, and objectified him in the hopes of making those without disabilities feel good about themselves and the world. Bickering in the comments of the post ensued (I used the nice words, here).

I spent the last 24 hours thinking about this in some really deep ways. First, I wasn’t certain the basketball video was inspiration porn to begin with. Was this young man objectified? Was this story video made to make those without disabilities better about themselves? I went back and forth over this for quite some time. I would want people to help my children achieve their dreams—even if they are not able to completely do something (like make the basketball team) by themselves.

Then, I realized it didn’t really matter, because something much larger was at work.

I am familiar with some mass communication research about the depiction of minorities. A scholar by the name of Cedric Clark came up with a model for minority representation in mass communication. He had four stages, and while I won’t bore you with all the deliciously nerdy details, these four stages have given birth to quite a bit of research and further elaboration of models that might fit what we witness when it comes to representing minorities on television.

His four stages were:
1.      Non-recognition- A given minority group is not acknowledged by the dominant media to even exist.
2.      Ridicule- Certain minority characters are portrayed as stupid, silly, lazy, irrational, or simply laughable.
3.      Regulation- Certain minority characters are presented as enforcers or administrators of the dominant group’s norms.
4.      Respect - The minority group in question is portrayed no differently than any other group. Interracial relationships would also not appear extraordinary.

Even though he meant to apply these stages primarily to representations of African-Americans on television, the model has been expanded to include almost any minority group in any media—including American Indians, those with disabilities, those who are GLBQT, etc.  

So, let’s take a look, for just a minute, at this basketball video and decide which stage it belongs in (inspiration porn or no, although I’m not convinced that it is). First, I think we can easily say that it doesn’t fit in stage one. If it were in stage one, there wouldn’t have been a video.

I think it’s also safe to say that this video doesn’t fit in stage two. The young man is not being ridiculed, is he? He’s not the subject of mockery. He’s not depicted as silly, lazy or irrational.

So, what about stage three? Does this video fit into stage three? I would argue yes. Here is the story of a young man and an act that attempts to move us to feel empathetic, bring happiness, and, to put it bluntly—demonstrate a compassionate way to treat someone, according to the dominant group. While he himself is not the person in the role of administrator, per se, he has the same desires as his peers without disabilities, and he is given the chance to play on the court with them. It reinforces the dominant group’s current belief that those individuals with disabilities should be included in activities they desire whenever possible, even when that includes additional help. This is, in my opinion, where our dominant belief resides right now.

I think it goes without saying that we are not at stage four. In fact, we can easily say that we’re not solidly in stage four for any minority group.  Again, I could bore you to death by quoting study after study to this effect, or I can simply ask you: can you think of a single television show with a gay couple that doesn’t point out they’re gay? Do you ever see a news story that doesn’t point out a ‘black man’ when the accused is African American? Do you routinely see American Indians depicted on television without their ethnicity being mentioned? How about Max on Parenthood? How many episodes have dealt with his diagnosis? 

So, while I understand that there are significant problems with the portrayal of individuals with disabilities in this country, and yes, I understand that an individual with a disability doesn’t need to be pigeonholed into the role of ‘looking for a cure’, or ‘hero’ or ‘charity-case’, I am actually pretty darn happy that those with disabilities are at stage three. It’s not perfect, and I get that. We should continue to strive for stage four, but let’s not forget that stage three is a whole helluva lot better than stages one or two. It means we’re making progress. It means that we can be at a stage four at some point in time. It means that we are setting the stage for respect and recognition—no different than anyone else—because we are distinctly making efforts to change the dominant groups’ perceptions.

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

A Contest: The Spam, It Keeps On Coming



I know, I know, the blogging has not been much over the past few weeks. Being a basketball mom, and also winning that grant (Remember the grant? Remember the large quantities of chocolate and wine I consumed during the seven weeks I worked on writing the grant proposal? Yeah, we won that puppy! Hooray! Oh, wait… that means I have some more work to do…) has kicked my butt.

Despite the fact that I haven’t written anything in weeks, there’s one thing that hasn’t changed at all on this blog. Something that you don’t see. Something that occurs on the back end of things. Something that requires nearly constant attention. That something? It’s the spam comments. Oy, the spam comments. I think this is how we know we’ve made it in the blogging world.

It seems as if as soon as the spam comments started to disappear in the Twitterverse (I don’t know exactly how they fixed those spam bots, but let me know, Twitter, how I can express my gratitude), they started popping up on my old blog posts. By the dozens. Each and every day. Most of them are boring. Most of them don’t even register on one’s consciousness. And then… then… there are the spam commenters who up their game. Dramatically.

In the course of one day a few weeks ago, I received one who graciously complimented me on my blog, and then in the very next sentence told me that I was a horrible writer because my post titles. The next sentence directed me to their site to buy Chinese tobacco. Wait. What? Say that middle part again?

The next one I deleted was a post-length story about how the spam commenter’s daughter had recently found a seashell on the shore, held it up to her ear, and then proceeded to be pinched by the resident hermit crab in the shell. The detail given in the story (which they just had to send to me, so that SOMEONE would know the story) was astounding. Then I was directed to buy their Chinese Viagra tobacco. Because, one should feel multicultural when smoking something that may require them to seek medical attention in about four hours.

Reading these comments prompted me to immediately go to the Facebook page and ask if anyone was interested in judging a spam commenting contest, and also, what the appropriate prize for one who wins such a contest. Of course, SPAM is a natural fit, but frankly, I’m unwilling to even purchase a can of SPAM in the store, much less ship it to someone as a prize. So, I’ve had to come up with something better. As lance pointed out, spam backwards is maps, so I could give maps as a prize. Nope, I didn’t like that one, either. Or I could give the Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs as a prize (they have Maps as a song title, as do the Fray and another band—The Front Bottoms—whom I’ve never heard of), but sending a CD as a gift seems to be assuming a lot about your musical tastes.

So, I’ve decided that I want to make some coffee mugs, Zazzle-style. And what better way to reward the winner of the best spam comment than with a mug that says just that: 


 Then I had to make a t-shirt, just for fun:
  
This Zazzle thing could become dangerous... But, I digress… So, let’s talk about this contest, why don’t we?

The rules: Starting today, you can enter the contest with the best/funniest/weirdest spam comment you’ve ever received on your blog by commenting on this post! Share the link to this post with all of your bloggy friends, so they can compete as well! I have a panel of judges (I know! It’s like it’s official or something! A panel!) who are going to be judging your entries for the next week (through next Tuesday night). Then, next week, I’ll announce the winner, and any honorable mentions. I’m betting we’ll have some honorable mentions…
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