“Boobs boobs everywhere, and not a one to honk”

Some douchenozzle thought it was up to him to decide who was a geek or not; Nick Mamatas sets him straight:

The same is true in the sexual realm: geek boys weren’t being rejected in high school because they liked Star Wars, or because it’s impossible to find a girl who also liked Star Wars. They were being rejected because of their appearance, weight, smell, attitude, visible handicaps, foreign accents, failure to own a car, general “creepy” vibe, failure to be interested in women as human beings, difficulty in carrying on a conversation, an annoying giggle, slouchy and asocial demeanor, etc. And it’s not like geek boys stared across the classroom at the geek girls, with their braces and weird jutting chins and nose-picking habits and horse books, and declared undying love over mid-afternoon Legos either. Indeed, one reason why sexist attitudes toward attractive women are so prevalent in geekdom is because of the mix of shame and desire attractive women represent to men who feel excluded from the supply of sexual encounters out there in the world. It’s abjection—one wants what one cannot have because one is revolting, so one projects that same revulsion on the object of their desire. Some geek men want these booth babes so much that they can’t stand them.

Of course, most geek men also grow up eventually, find lovers, comb their hair, take up exercise and get over junior high. They don’t need “geek” as some sort of badge of honor. The ones that do, well, they’re the ones I suspect are most likely to accept sexist ideas about attractive women, and fearlessly promote them online, where they’re safe from reprisals by the jocks of the adult world. (HR departments and the like.) That is, they become bullies. Why does a bully pick on a dork? Because it’s safe—there’s no downside to doing it. Why does a dork pick on a woman? Because it’s safe—there’s no downside to doing it. I mean, it’s not like the “booth babe” was otherwise going to go back to the geek’s hotel room (which he is sharing with four other smelly weirdos) with him, right? So, rage rage, on and on, and all to protect geek culture from the endless horrors of non-dorks and big tits?

It can be annoying to see the “cool kids” jump on a subculture bandwagon, but I’ve never understood the visceral hatred some socalled geeks have to people new to fandom, to everybody who isn’t just like them. Perhaps because I grew up in an environment that was both far less poisonous than the American school system, where you don’t have all that jocks v. nerds nonsense, I don’t have the resentment some of these idiots have carried with them from high school, certainly not against women, “hot” or otherwise. It’s dumb, it’s sexist, it doesn’t make you a better geek.

In the ensuing comment thread at Nick’s, quite a few people make good points which I’ll copy here shamelessly:

Hal Duncan:So, yeah, my message for the once-bullied male geek: welcome to the shitty end of the stick we call heteronormativity; please to not reinforce it with misogynist douchebaggery.

Kermit:
Well, again, if you have no foundation (because somewhere along the line in your family your original culture was renounced), then you’re an even bigger sucker for the capitalist-imperialist pseudo-culture, and whatever part of it you embrace, you’re going to embrace HARD. This is what produces the fanatics, whether they’re sports fans (and I’d challenge you to find a better metaphor for imperialism than pro-sports) or fantasy/sci-fi geeks. And damn if so much of our entertainment doesn’t fully embrace and propagate those “American” values. I mean, shit, a lot of the comic books were made as a sort of USAmerican propaganda. And Wrestling, with its depictions of “American Hero” vs. the evil Russians and Arabs? And there was also a strict gender divide in Wrestling (GLOW, anyone?) but that’s aside from the point I’m making.

Seth Ellis: It’s the relentless relationship of subcultural identity to product, and hardly anything but product, that continues to get me down. It’s like the message is, dear fans: please be suckers forever.

La fields: In conclusion: I didn’t go on any dates in high school either, but being a geek was the one thing that gave me a social life, a sense of camaraderie, and the perspective to realize that there were more people like me out in the world, and I could find them if I managed to survive high school (so you know, a real incentive not to kill myself or others!). It made the bullying I got just for walking around as myself in that viper’s nest bearable.

Sonya: I understand how moderately attractive or homely gals would find these Booth Babes perpetually irritating. Women can be scary. Scary mean, scary judgmental, scary impulsively ostracizing, etc. The more confident a woman is about her sexy body (or at least the more believable her portrayal of confidence) the more intimidating she becomes. Women perceived as visual appealing tend to land at the top of the heap due to the culturally normative value placed on sexual desirability and the more perceived power she will hold within the hierarchal social structure.

Troubler: So it is entirely consistent to criticize companies’ use of booth babes, and at the same time argue that booth babes are people and should be treated with respect. In fact it is the companies who hire them who are not treating them with respect because the job itself is objectifying and dehumanizing.

And always remember: it’s not up to any man to decide which women are the real geeks. Think otherwise and you’re a sexist numbnut.

Trouble in atheist paradise

What, a social movement inspired by the excesses of Anglo-American Protestantism and promoted by middle-aged blowhards is not terribly inclusive, caring, or supportive itself?

I came by my atheism the honest way, by getting doubts about the religion I’d grown up in, reading about all the miracles and wonders of the universe we live in, getting into rows with my very religious and constantly worrying grandmother. Granted, my church was not the most oppressive or backwards church in the world and nobody actually much cared about what you did or didn’t believe. It’s one of the reasons why I’ve always been a bit wary about the militant atheist movement that has started up in the last five years or so. Atheism alone is not a broad enough base for a political/ideological movement.

It doesn’t help that its two most prominent public figures — Richard Dawkins and Christopher Hitches — are both professional arseholes. The latter was a not very intelligent leftwinger when leftwing politics were in fashion, became an even dumber rightwinger when fashions changed and helped cheerlead the War on Iraq. The former, though no doubt a good biologist and science writer, always had a nasty streak in him. I don’t think he’s ever written a book without putting in a dig at somebody.

But the real problem with militant atheism is that it operates in an ideological vacuum. Atheism, though it has been historically associated with the left, with socialism, is not a left nor rightwing thing anymore. Which means that in the professional atheist movement you have people who agree with each other on nothing but the idea that god doesn’t exist. And since it’s largely an internet movement, it is taken its shape from the biggest loudmouths on the web, which more often than not are rightwing/libertarian blowhards.

It’s no wonder that sexism, rape jokes and assorted bad behaviour is rampant in the “community”.

Power Girl

Power Girl as drawn by Wally Wood

Power Girl: A New Beginning — Justin Gray, Jimmy Palmiotti (writers), Amanda Conner (art)

As a character, Power Girl was always something of a joke. First introduced in the seventies as a young, militant “feminist” character by Gerry Conway to spice up his Justice Society series in All-Star Comics as Earth-2 Superman’s cousin, a copy of a copy (Supergirl). It didn’t help that the then artist on the series, Wally Wood, allegedly had a bet to make her breasts bigger each issue until somebody noticed — and nobody did. Once the series was cancelled, she did the guest star routine, showing up with the Justice Society or on her own, got her own not very interesting mini series in the mid-eighties, a new origin courtesy of Crisis on Infinite Earths doing away with Earth-2, then finally a regular spot on Justice League Europe as the house nag, where it was also revealed she had a bit of a personality disorder due to drinking too much diet cola.

All of this started to change with the Geoff Johns’ Justice Society series, where she got a bit more respect, but it still wouldn’t fill you with much hope that any regular Powergirl series would be any good. But it was.

I got the trade paperback of the first six issues cheap because I’d heard good things about the series and it was indeed much better than I would’ve expected. Jimmy Palmiotti and Justin Gray wrote a perfectly nice, decent Bronze Age superhero series with stories that are actually dealt with in two-three issues, a few slowly developing subplots, even some attention to Powergirl’s private life, something that never was developed much before. There are some decent fights, good villains and they write with a bit of humour and in all do a not too shabby job.

Power Girl as drawn by Amanda Connor

But the real star of the series however is the artist, Amanda Connor. It’s always been the case that bad art can sink good writing much more easily than bad writing can sink good art and what we have here is excellent art uplifting a decent series into something much better. Connor’s art style is semi-realistic, slightly cartoony when needed, rather than the stilted realism that’s in vogue for superhero comics this past decade. The colouring, by Paul Mounts, reinforces this as it’s bright and poppy, not so muddy-brownish as seems to be the norm now, with Kara/Karen/Power Girl the brightest thing in the comic.

Power Girl subtly deals with somebody ogling her

Connor is an accomplished artist, doing her fight scenes very well, but where she really shines is in the quieter scenes, the character building scenes like the one above, which really didn’t need the caption box to explain what’s happening there. The faces, the hand gestures, all feel perfectly natural and right, though they’re obviously somewhat exaggerated for effect. This is on even better display in the page shown below.

Power Girl and Terra enjoy a movie

It’s just a page of Power Girl and her friend/fellow superheroine Terra enjoying a movie, but I love the acting and the facial expressions on both of them. But I also like the dress sense Connor has, as what both are wearing fits their characters and backgrounds. They’re clothes you could actual women wearing, not sexytimes comics clothing. Which is the best part of Connor’s art of course: no porn faces, no moronic fan service or broken spine crotch shots. Power Girl’s breasts are still there, are part of her, but no longer the whole of her and she actually wears clothing that doesn’t always draw attention to them.

It’s a shame the series never quite got the audience it deserved and what with the New DC and it’s focus on just the sort of moronic pandering this series didn’t lower itself too, it’s unlikely we’ll soon get a new Power Girl series even half as good as this one.

Bruuuce

The New Yorker has an excellent profile of the Boss:

The songs were a way of talking to the silent father. “My dad was very nonverbal—you couldn’t really have a conversation with him,” Springsteen told me. “I had to make my peace with that, but I had to have a conversation with him, because I needed to have one. It ain’t the best way to go about it, but that was the only way I could, so I did, and eventually he did respond. He might not have liked the songs, but I think he liked that they existed. It meant that he mattered. He’d get asked, ‘What are your favorite songs?’ And he’d say, ‘The ones that are about me.’ ”

One of the few genuine regrets in my life is not having seen Bruce Springsteen with the complete E-Street band when I had the chance.

Biking in Portland

how one mum and her six kids get around in Portland

The first thing that came in my mind when reading this story about the ingenious biking solution one Portland mother uses to transport her children was, christ, who has six children anyway? If you’re worried about sustainability, this is not the way to go about it. But never mind that. What I really found strange is the following:

Before we rolled out, I met the young Finches: Nathan, 11; Mary, 9; Lucy, 7; Ben, 5; Olivia, 4; and Maya, 2.

Emily’s usual set-up is three kids up front, one on the child seat, one pedaling an attached bike (usually Mary), and Nathan riding by himself. As we set off toward OMSI, I got to observe the Finch-mobile in action. It was massive and it was alive with sounds and movement. Heads and arms bobbled while music blared from the on-board sound system.

By my count that’s at least three kids who could ride their own bikes rather than hitch a ride with mumy: Nathan, Mary and Lucy, with Ben on the cusp. So why go through all this rigomarole? Is it just American paranoia about child safety and kids biking through traffic, or is there something more going on?

Where’s dad in this story anyway? Oh, wait: “The Finch family owns a car. It’s a sedan and only Mitch drives it. He takes it work everyday.” Hmmm…