Sexist is Something You Do, Not Necessarily Who You Are

Chances are, you’re going to do something sexist. We’re living in cultures drowning in sexism. We’ve been raised with it; we’re swimming in it; like air, we’re so immersed in it we’re often barely aware of it. Makes it rather inevitable we’ll do or say something more or less sexist.

Yes, I said “we.” I’m not exempt. I say or think or do something sexist at least once a day, and that’s just the stuff I’m aware of. Constant battle, this, overcoming sexism.

Does this make me a sexist? Not especially.

And that’s the thing, isn’t it, that you must remember when you’re being called out on something you’ve said or done, some act or omission on your part. We’re imperfect human beings swimming in a sea of sexism, and we’re going to fuck up. Inevitably.

But fucking up doesn’t make someone a sexist. Just makes you a person who did a sexist thing. What makes you something else is what happens next. Continue reading “Sexist is Something You Do, Not Necessarily Who You Are”

Sexist is Something You Do, Not Necessarily Who You Are
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Sunday Song: Out of the Dark

Now that I’ve gone and gotten treatment, I’ll tell you the story of the Dark.

I’ve always been subject to black moods. Getting raped at 18 didn’t help, I’m sure. But those moods were always transient, usually correlated to known issues like severe stress, and predictable. They didn’t affect my day-to-day functioning all that much, and I could always find my way out. I just joined up with the part of my brain that was laughing into the darkness and walked out on it. I’d change up my routine, do whatever altered my mood toward happy, and the Dark would go.

So I wasn’t overly concerned when I began to slide in January. Vaguely and pervasively sad in Seattle in the middle of winter, during a time of high stress at work and home? Whee, SAD! Yay, environmental triggers! Time to take a break, then, watch some Agatha Christie, do busy work, wait for the Dark to go away.

But it started getting darker. Continue reading “Sunday Song: Out of the Dark”

Sunday Song: Out of the Dark

That Feeling of Tension Released in Victory

So you know those times when you’re sitting there restless for no damn reason, and you’re messing about trying to find something that will hold your attention, and suddenly you remember there was this one song you used to listen to years ago that you really liked, but you couldn’t remember the title? And so you go haring off after it, hoping you remembered the artist right but after the first three not-it songs you’re not sure. And then you remember the title, but it turns out that whoever did your mix album put the wrong title, so that song that you thought is it ain’t it. And you’d give up, except by now hearing that song again is the most important thing ever, so you slog on, becoming tense and despairing and desperate. And then, victory!

Yes? No? Well, even if you’ve never experienced that particular sequence of events, you may enjoy this song anyway. It’s Octavia Sperati, and the song turns out to be called “Guilty Am I.”

At least now I’ll remember it always. Also, the cover art for the album is awesome.

Grace Submerged album cover.
Grace Submerged album cover.

And then – and then, as a special bonus, linked from another Octavia Sperati video, what do I find but a video I’ve been trying to find for at least a year now, ever since it vanished from my playlist. Huzzah!

Well played, YouTube. Well played indeed.

That Feeling of Tension Released in Victory

Fundamentals of Fungi: Would a Witch Really Spread This on Toast?

Possibly not, because it may not be actual witches’ butter.

Fungi I
Fungi I

I’d meant to get down to Juanita Bay, where I had my first encounter with witches’ butter, but that didn’t quite happen. Instead, I ended up at that bit of North Creek I haven’t fully explored. I wasn’t expecting any encounters with fabulous fungi. But there was a causeway out to an island, which may not be there if the pond fills up full, so I tramped over for a look and got smacked in the eye by brilliant orange.

Fungi II
Fungi II

It was occupying a snag beside the causeway. Most of us tend to think of snags as old dead things that just haven’t fallen down yet, but this thing was full of life. You should be noticing some Trametes versicolor on there, growing happily alongside the possible-but-not-probable witches’ butter. And then there’s this:

Fungus III
Fungus III

I’m not sure if that irregular brown patchy stuff is turkey tail fungus that didn’t get the memo about looking like an actual turkey’s tail, or if it’s something else altogether. Doesn’t matter – it’s alive. So is the lichen and moss that’s colonized. And then there’s the fuzzy stuff, which was also growing happily on a ginormous tree elsewhere in the park. I’ll show you it later. Right now, we’re busy with butter. Or not.

Fungi IV
Fungi IV

See, the reason I’m not convinced it’s witches’ butter is because it’s not all shiny and slick. There’s a close cousin of witches’ butter, Tremella aurantia, also known as golden ear, and it’s matte. So this is possibly that. Which means no self-respecting witch would ever spread this on her toast. Might use it as a centerpiece on the breakfast table, though.

Fungi V
Fungi V

Some of these may have medical applications, you know. Witches’ butter alone has a laundry list of potential effects, “including immunostimulatory, protecting against radiation, antidiabetic, anti-inflammatory, hypocholesterolemic, hepatoprotective, and antiallergic effects.” That’s a lot for a little fungus. And who knows if its cousin, which this might be, might do more? We can’t just walk away going, “Eew, fungus!” even if we don’t happen to think it’s pretty. It could be important to us someday.

I think it’s beautiful, though. Look at it adding a splash of color to a dreary scene.

Fungus VI
Fungus VI

Like biological flames, that. Lovely.

Fundamentals of Fungi: Would a Witch Really Spread This on Toast?

New at Rosetta Stones: So Much for the Trees….

We’re back to Mount St. Helens. Yay! We’ve reached the part of our story where the trees have a very bad day. For many of them, it was their last.

Is it horrible of me to be glad? I mean, yes, terrible that majestic old forests got destroyed, but… visible geology!

Lovely visible geology at Mount St. Helens. Look at those bare ridges! And you can see Mount Adams! September 2011.
Lovely visible geology at Mount St. Helens. Look at those bare ridges! And you can see Mount Adams! September 2011.
New at Rosetta Stones: So Much for the Trees….

Unidentified Flying Dinosaur: Methinks I Spy a Woodpecker

It ain’t Woody. That’s all I’m sure of.

I’ve seen several of these around the North Creek area. They’re never close enough to get a really good view, but with a little zoom they resolve into something that looks like it might be a woodpecker. Certainly, with a beak that size, it should be. Continue reading “Unidentified Flying Dinosaur: Methinks I Spy a Woodpecker”

Unidentified Flying Dinosaur: Methinks I Spy a Woodpecker

Think You Care About Women? Stop a Moment and Read This

Kylie found this incredible piece of writing that should be widely shared. It’s called “Sleepwalking into Sexism,” and it’s by Harriet Page. I’ve included a long excerpt here; the piece itself is much longer, and every single sentence is worth reading. I’d like it if everyone reads this. I’ll settle for a few sleepwalking sexists, male and female, who need to be jolted awake before they do damage to self and others.

No matter what you have to do to get there, read it. Now.

There’s a rule that you shouldn’t wake sleepwalkers – the sudden transition into consciousness can be terrifying. My little sister can testify to the fact that on the one occasion that she woke me mid-somnambulance, I was so surprised I slapped her face. It’s startling to suddenly find that you’re not where you thought you were and, moreover, that you have no idea how you got there.

And, in a way, this is exactly what happens when nice, reasonable men who call themselves feminists are called out on their unconsciously sexist behaviour and attitudes. These men have sleepwalked contentedly through the minefield of gender relations without ever having cause to question what they’re doing and then BAM. Some crazy feminist with no regard for how scary and disorienting it’s going to be comes along and wakes them up with the rude news that, actually, they have unintentionally been engaging in some pretty sexist behaviour.

The result is, metaphorically speaking, the slap to the face that I gave my sister. She was the one who woke me from my comfortable reverie, and my instinctive response was to defend myself with a rapid attack. In her case, it was an ill-deserved slap. In the case of sleepwalking sexists, the responses are more varied. It might be immediate, unhinged abuse – ‘Crazy bitch, you must be on your period or something’. It might be icy politeness and contempt – ‘I’d thank you not to be so aggressive, it’s completely unnecessary’. It might be fake concern – ‘You maybe don’t realise it, but when you attack men like me who are only trying to help, it hurts the whole cause of feminism’. Whatever the method used, the result is the same; instead of reflecting on their own behaviour and attitudes, these men will retreat into an impenetrable defensive fortress.

[snip]

This is the hard truth that must be learned; if you are one of those men who looks for these slip-ups, then you are NOT a feminist. If you are one of those men who believes in equality in some vague and idealistic way, but then turns on a woman the second she says something that remotely implicates you or the people you share a common chromosome with in something you don’t like, you are NOT a feminist. If you believe that a woman has to reward your attempts at feminism with niceness, like a dog getting a treat for a trick, you are NOT a feminist.

Being a feminist means believing ALL the time, regardless of whether women are nice to you, that the struggle for gender equality is on-going and real and essential. It means condemning all those ‘harmless’ little jokes about nagging women, female drivers and periods because you recognise that from the fertile soil of casual, unconscious sexism sprout the seeds of justification for serious assault. It means making the connection between a joke about a woman who bares her breasts on screen in the portrayal of a rape, and the man who thinks it’s funny to grope a woman in a club because she has cleavage showing and Hollywood tells us that boobs exist purely for sexual entertainment. Being a feminist is not about wanting equality for women because they’re nice to you. It’s about fighting for women every single day because you believe that they are human and that humanity is worth defending regardless of how nice, kind, clever, rude, attractive, funny, accommodating or mean the woman in question is.

Read the whole piece. I wish it had been there in the days when I needed the not-exactly-short, but definitely sharp, shock.

(Reminder to any new visitors: read the comment policy.)

Think You Care About Women? Stop a Moment and Read This

Crowdsourcing Pioneering Women in the Geosciences

Did you know it was a woman who discovered that the earth has a solid inner core? Or that Bascom Crater on Venus was named for the first woman geologist hired by the USGS? Were you aware that two 19th century women wrote and illustrated the standard reference work on British graptolites? Or that a woman was one of the discoverers of the mid-ocean ridge?

Yeah. Women have made some pretty amazing contributions to the geosciences. And they’ve been doing outstanding geology for centuries. Thing is, we don’t know them the way we should. If I asked you to name the most influential early geologists, you’d probably give me names like Steno and Hutton and Lyell. But women have been making important advances since the early days, and without them, the men wouldn’t have gotten so far (just ask Lyell, whose wife, Mary, accompanied him in the field and was instrumental to his success). Those names roll off your tongue without more than an instant’s pause. I’d like to see the names of great women in geology springing to mind as easily.

I’ve got a small list to begin with, but I’m sure there are gaps. Perhaps you can help fill them. I’m looking for early days to begin with, anyone up until the mid-20th century, although if you know pioneers in the geosciences whose discoveries are more recent, feel free to share them.

What am I doing with my little list, you ask? I’m starting a series, of course! I’m already knee-deep in research and have a few biographies ready to go. I’m discovering brilliant, super-smart, and determined women whose curiosity about how the earth works was insatiable. They faced down all sorts of challenges. They left behind a body of work that increased our knowledge and understanding of our world, and trained up others who continued the advance long after they were gone. They’ve left us many legacies. I can’t wait to discover even more, and share them with you.

Let’s make my little list a very long one indeed.

Portrait of Mary Anning by Henry De la Beche. British fossil collector, dealer, and paleontologist who became known around the world for a number of important finds she made in the Jurassic marine fossil beds at Lyme Regis in Dorset, where she lived. Image and caption courtesy Wikimedia Commons/Wikipedia.

 

Crowdsourcing Pioneering Women in the Geosciences

I Got You A Wooden Octopus and Some Beatles for Your Birthday

Jeez. PZ makes it another lap around the sun and thinks it’s something special. Piffle. It’s not like it’s his birthday or any- wait.

Well, I’ve had this giftie in the closet for a while. Seems a good time to gift it.

Wooden octopus shelf brace at a little cafe in Depot Bay, Oregon. I have been trained to think of PZ every time I see cephalopod art. I think it's a conspiracy.
Wooden octopus shelf brace at a little cafe in Depot Bay, Oregon. I have been trained to think of PZ every time I see cephalopod art. I think it’s a conspiracy.

I’ve also got this very bizarre Beatles birthday song video thingy. I hope you like it.

No, I won’t pay for your therapy after that. Go cuddle your octopus. Be careful of splinters. Oh, and happy birfdai!

I Got You A Wooden Octopus and Some Beatles for Your Birthday