Starbucks

The Cafe Feminino post ties in to the first of yet another series, posts of everyday observances, which I shall call Rants and Raves.

I was out for a walk around eight o'clock one evening, heading to a local store to purchase blank DVDs to use in my new laptop. As I was walking, I noticed a long line of cars encircling one of the approximately fifty-seven local Starbucks outlets, and it struck me as odd that people would sit in their cars, with the engines running, waiting for a cup of coffee. Not to mention that there is a locally owned independent coffee shop immediately across the street, complete with a drive through window, which not only serves a very nice cup of coffee but which also has no line-up.

I cannot comment on the quality of Starbucks coffee, as I would never in my life deign to purchase a cup. I do not like their politics, including they way they get property owners to evict smaller, less powerful companies so they can have prime locations; their oversaturation of the market; and the whole notion of people going to Starbucks simply because someone told them it is hip and trendy. By the way, I also think it is strange that people line up around Tim Horton's every morning for a bad cup of coffee; I have had Tim's coffee and know it is very bitter (no double double for me me).

Now, I love a good cup of coffee; however, seeing people carrying cups of coffee literally everywhere still seems strange to me. I think it is the whole notion of “I'm going somewhere, I better have a dose of caffeine” that makes me wonder if so many people are really so mindlessly consumptive that they will buy a product just because it is easily available, without any thought to the social impact of their purchase.

Not so very long ago, clothing stores in particular would never have allowed a customer to enter with a cup of coffee, for fear of damage to their merchandise. Now you see people at the mall in the evening, with their forty ounce cups of coffee; no wonder people are so stressed out these days. As for me, I will simply continue to enjoy a fine cup of gourmet free trade coffee at home or at an indepedently owned coffee shop; shopping usually leaves me feeling stimulated enough without the extra caffeine.

Katherine Stinson, Barnstormer

"I have found that women are not only just as much interested as men are in flying, but apparently have less fear than the men have."
Katherine Stinson, quoted in Katherine Stinson, The Flying Schoolgirl, by Debra L. Winegarten, Eakin Press, 2000

Katherine Stinson, born on Valentine's Day, 1891, was raised along with three siblings by a single mother who taught her children to be self sufficient without gender constraints. At a young age, Katherine developed an interest in music and wished to study piano in Europe. As exhibition pilots were earning one thousand dollars per performance, she saw flying as a means to raise the money needed to further her education; once she began flying, however, she seems to have forgotten about studying music.

Turned away by several male flight instuctors who felt that women had no business learning to fly, she was eventually able to persuade legendary flight instructor Max Lillie to take a chance on her. Katherine flew her first solo flight after only four hours of instruction, receiving her pilots license within three weeks, becoming the fourth female pilot in the United States. After completing her training, she established her own flight school with her sister Marjorie, the ninth woman pilot.

Katherine was the first woman to perform a loop, and the first person to perform a double loop, in a plane she designed and built herself. It should be noted that planes of the day were not equipped with any sort of safety harness; the pilot simply had to rely on her own strength to keep from falling. She was also the first stunt pilot to perform at night, using Roman candles on her wings and flaming barrels on the ground as reference points, and the first woman pilot to fly in Canada, Japan, and China.

Known to be a meticulous mechanic, she was sometimes teased about the care with which she prepared her aircraft; she was, however, respected not only as a capable pilot, but also as a fair and just employer. Throughout her career, Katherine staged over five hundred stunt flying demonstrations without a single incident and broke speed and distance records in several countries. In addition to her stunt flying, Katherine also delivered air mail, becoming the first air mail pilot in western Canada.

With America's entry into World War I, eager to serve her country but barred from combat flying because she was a woman, Katherine drove Red Cross ambulances in France. Ironically, much of Katherine's work prior to this involved the training of male military pilots who went through her flight school. In Europe, she contracted tuberculosis, which effectively put an end to her flying career. Upon her return to the United States, Katherine married and became an architect, specializing in the preservation of historic houses in New Mexico. She passed away in 1977, at the age of 86.

Anne Marie, My Mom

As a regular feature on my blog, I plan on including celebrations of the Spirit of women, accounts of women's lives and experiences, as they have often served as an inspiration in my own life. One of the reasons I became interested in women's stories is that they provide an alternate viewpoint to androcentric versions of history. I have often found that while history focuses on kings and politicians, wars, and the evil that men have wrought in the world, women's herstory focuses on the experiences and everyday lives of women who have had to survive in a world controlled by men. I thought it fitting that the first account should be that of my Mom, who inspired my initial interest in women's issues.

Anne Marie was the youngest of seven children, all of whom my grandmother delivered at home, on her own. Life was not easy for a poor immigrant family in an isolated prairie hamlet; I recall many stories of my grandfather shooting rabbits so the family would have some meat. I suspect, however, that the hardships of everyday life made for people of much firmer resolve than we see today.

While she was still a child, my Mom's family moved to a larger center, where opportunities were somewhat brighter. Following high school, my Mom worked various jobs; married at a young age, she ventured out on her own to Toronto to escape a controlling husband. There she met my father, with whom she had two boys to chase after.

In the early 1970s, my family moved back to the prairies, where my father was anxious to start his own small business. Over the course of several years, both my mother and father worked side by side. During this time I was continually amazed by everything my Mom managed to do in a single day: putting in a full day at the business, then going home to make dinner, do laundry and housework, and look after two rambunctious little boys, while my father spent much of his time at leisure. I think it was at this time that an interest in women's and feminist issues began stirring in me, as it began to seem to me that women carry a much greater workload in this world then do men.

Following my father's death, my Mom continued to manage the family business on her own. Eventually, however, changes in the market and government regulations led to increased competition from larger companies and the business was no longer viable. It was during this time that my Mom would meet my stepfather, who I believe gave my Mom the best years of her life. Their time together was spent traveling and camping, going for coffee, and playing with grandchildren.

Following my stepfather's death, and with her own health declining, my Mom spent her final two years in a nursing home, in and out of hospital with a series of small strokes. On my many visits, we spent our time at our two favorite activites, shopping and fine dining. She passed away suddenly while getting ready for breakfast one morning.

One may say that my Mom's life was not quite so exciting in comparison to some of the women whose Spirits I will celebrate in future posts; she didn't build and fly airplanes, as my did the woman in my next Spirit of Women post, make movies, or sail pirate ships. Throughout her life, my Mom worked hard at taking care of her family, always maintaining a quiescent dignity and grace even though doing so caused her much heartache at times; I suspect the same may be said for many women.

Brutal Language

"Why lie...The brutal language of being in my life"
My Ruin, “Cold Hands Warm Heart,” The Brutal Language, Rovena Recordings, 2005

I thought for my second entry, I would explain the meaning of my blog's title, Brutal Language. While the inspiration for the title comes from a song by one of my favorite bands, My Ruin, it was arrived at only after spending a considerable amount of time trying to come up with a title that would fit the future content of my blog.

The significance of the title Brutal Language comes from my intention to write openly and frankly regarding patriarchal society's rampant misogyny. It is my contention that one of the main problems in society today is that people are so concerned with being “politically correct” that true honesty has become a rarity; this in turn leads to latent frustrations. I do not have that problem. I give no quarters and I call bullshit when I see it.

Thus, I will be dispensing with much of the euphemistic language which is used to legitimize inequalities between women and men. I will also be discussing ways brutally honest language can be used to draw attention to and fight against power differentials. For instance, I plan on spending a fair amount of time exploring the intersectionality between pornography, the prostitution of women, and rape as a triad of male controlled political violence against women. In so doing, I will not be referring to the prostitution of women with the common euphemism of “sex work,” for various reasons which I will go into at a later date. However, at this time I will say that the prostitution of women is not sex and it is not work. Sex is an intimate sharing between equal partners, while work is a productive activity which adds something of value to society; neither of these elements are inherent in “sex work.” Suffice it to say that I have a huge problem with the mainstreaming of pornography, the prostitution of women, and the ways in which a culture of rape is normalized in present day patriarchal societies.

While I am getting the preliminaries out of the way, I would like to make a few additional points regarding my blog perfectly clear. First of all, I am writing this for myself; my primary purpose is to continue developing my own feminist theory and to hone my writing skills. It would, however, be nice to have thousands of readers. And it would be wonderful if those readers could perhaps learn a little about the world in which they live, as reaching the point in my life where I am wishing to share my thoughts has certainly been a process of learning and discovery.

Secondly, I do not allow comments on my blog. I have learned from experience and from what others have told me that there are some people who make a habit of leaving nasty comments whenever they read something they do not agree with, or which is beyond their level of comprehension. Such people seem to be particularly vile concerning anything even remotely related to feminist issues. And, quite frankly, I really do not care to read someone else's unqualified opinions. If you do not like my blog, no one is forcing you to read it. Unless you are a professional reviewer of blogs; then I hope you are having a wonderful time here. :)

Now that that's out of the way, we can let the fun begin!

Welcome

Hello and welcome to my blog. Brutal Language chronicles my experiences as a radical feminist gentleman in a misogynistic society and traces the development of my own feminist political theory. One of the central themes of Brutal Language holds that patriarchal societies are defined by male hatred towards and political violence against women. While this may seem self evident to some, the ways in which male hatred towards women manifests itself is so deeply entrenched in society that it is often imperceptible. To make things a little more enjoyable, I will also include accounts which celebrate the Spirit, lives, and voices of strong women in herstory. And I am sure I will find a great many more things to write about as time goes by.

Perhaps I shall begin by outlining how I have come to qualify myself as a radical feminist gentleman, as this admittedly seems to be a contradiction of terms. Radical feminism is a school of thought which advocates fundamental, thorough, and drastic political, economic, and social reforms with the goal of securing equal rights and privileges for women. Unlike liberal feminists, who seek to work within existing political institutions, radical feminists believe that true equality cannot be achieved within power structures which are founded on a base of inequality.

A gentleman may be characterized as a civilized, educated, and well mannered man. Granted, there have been times past when a gentleman would be anything but civilized in certain contexts (as in the gentlemen's agreement or the stereotypical olde tyme southern gentlemen). However, I would postulate that a true gentleman is cognizant of and seeks to minimize power imbalances in personal relationships; this would certainly also be true of a radical feminist. I should also like to point out that I take no issue with referring to individual persons as ladies or gentleman, for both describe people of graceful comportment.

Thus, I would characterize myself as a gentleman who is constantly dismayed by the outright disdain for the experiences of women which shapes everyday life in patriarchal societies. Throughout my blog, I willl be exploring ways in which this has shaped my world view.

For the moment, I will leave things where they are; for my next entry, I shall discuss the significance of the title Brutal Language.