Vaginal Obsession – TSA, you’re doing it wrong

If you had to create a chart of the things I like and the things I don’t like, vaginas and the TSA would clearly be at opposite ends. The vagina is truly a wonderful thing, when properly cared for. Your mileage may vary depending on diet, grooming, genetics, and a host of other factors. But, in general, vaginas are a wonderful thing.

The TSA is not a vagina. It is not even vagina like. Even though it is run by a bunch of twats, it can’t even get close to being in the vagina zone when it comes to coolness.

I’ve never hidden my hatred for the TSA.  When I go through security, I always opt for the pat-down, and I make sure to make it difficult for the agent. Why? Because when I was in basic training, they taught us that it is our duty to make captivity as difficult for our captors as possible. I harass TSA employees when I see them in public, reminding them in grocery stores, theaters and anywhere else I find them that they are low forms of shit, and I advocate that we all do the same).  They are only doing their jobs? Well so was John Demjanjuk.

As much as I hate the TSA, I must admit that we have something in common: We both got a thing for vaginas. Of course, I prefer mine to be over the age of consent — the TSA harbors no such prejudices. Nope, not at all.

But, if I may be so pompous as to declare myself qualified to offer instruction on how to care for and attract vagina — TSA, you’re doing it wrong.

The TSA’s latest victim is prominent feminist blogger Jill Filipovic, of Feministe fame.  Ms. Filipovic recently took a trip to Dublin and, upon arriving, found a note from a TSA agent who’d discovered a vibrator in her luggage:

“GET YOUR FREAK ON GIRL” (source)

She reacted in a way that was noticeably un-second-wavy of her — with a sense of humor. She wrote:

Total violation of privacy, wildly inappropriate and clearly not ok, but I also just died laughing in my hotel room. (source)

The TSA’s reaction to this incident was predictable, given how it responds to terror threats: Namely, it enacted a remedy that will never be useful in the future. The screener got shitcanned.

But, is that really what anyone wanted? Filipovic has as much right as anyone to demand that this TSAsshole lose his or her job. Nevetheless, she did not call for the agent’s head. (She admirably dislikes Coldplay more than she dislikes this Agent).

It’s easy to scape-goat one individual here, but the problem with the note is that it’s representative of the bigger privacy intrusions that the U.S. government, through the TSA and other sources, levels every day. The invasion is inherent to the TSA’s mission, regardless of whether a funny note is left behind — the note only serves to highlight the absurdity of all this security theater. (source)

Filipovic went on to write that she is pleased that the TSA took the issue seriously, but firing one person who made a dumb mistake really misses the whole point.

I get no satisfaction in hearing that someone may be in danger of losing their job over this. I would much prefer a look at why ‘security’ has been used to justify so many intrusions on our civil liberties, rather than fire a person who made a mistake. (source)

Instead, the TSA seems to treat this as an isolated incident — or a failure by one of its drones. Meanwhile, the actual issue, which Filipovic tried to make us think about, is lost in the guffaws over the gooey gewgaw.

After we get done chuckling about Filipovic being anonymously told to “get her freak on,” I hope that we can think about how the TSA’s Freudian field day with our reproductive organs demonstrates the absurd nature of its very existence, the failure of its mission, the lie that it represents. It hasn’t got a damn thing to do with keeping us safe. I wish that we could think about how you should never try and have an agency devoted to such a high-falutin goal like airline safety, when you staff it with low-grade morons who are not fit to reproduce, let alone do anything else. Anyone who even wants that job must be a twisted, broken, loser; the kind of person who has lamented their loss of power ever since they left third grade and had to return the “hall monitor” sash to the principal’s office. Next time you are at the airport, just try detecting any intellect in the TSA agents you encounter. You will fail in that task. That alone should tell you that the agency has no reason to exist. If the job were actually important, we would never hire people who are this desperate, stupid, or lazy, to try and do it. And, when you give a powerless idiot a little bit of control, that misused power will find its own center, and that center is apparently our ‘nads.

Filipovic’s experience is no mere outlier. Take the recent tale of Amy Alkon — my client. The TSA only pried into what Ms. Filipovic inserts in her vagina; in Amy Alkon’s case, the TSA actually went up in there.  Repeatedly.  Four times over.  Naturally, Ms. Alkon did not like this and used her free speech rights to express her outrage over the event, shining the light of truth upon the TSA’s misdeeds, and calling the agent’s actions “rape.” Filipovic herself reports that even the FBI would agree with this assessment.  Unlike Filipovic, Alkon did not (so far) find out that her tormentor was fired. Ms. Alkon received a demand letter for $500,000 from Thedala Magee, the TSA agent with whom she had her little run-in. (Well, from her lawyer, but you get the point). 

It might have been undignified for the screener to scrawl a note about Filipovic’s sex toy – but unfortunately, that seems to be where the bureaucracy got hung up, and the real discussion about civil liberties got swept under the carpet — again.

Too Sexy for Crisp Skin?

By Tatiana von Tauber

Too sexy for some head?

People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) thinks this chicken is just too sexy for anyone to see, “downright offensive” in fact. 

“When I saw it I just couldn’t believe that an editor of The New York Times would find it acceptable,” PETA’s founder and president Ingrid Newkirk told The Atlantic Wire. “It’s downright offensive, not just to people who care about animals but almost to everyone. It’s a plucked, beheaded, young chicken in a young pose,” she said. (source)

Newkirk went on to call it “necrophilia.” I think PETA needs a sense of humor.  This is brilliant from every angle!   

Do you know who Ruth Orkin is?

By Tatiana von Tauber

Ruth Orkin's "American Girl in Italy"

Recognize this photo?

Ruth Orkin photographed it in the early 50′s after meeting another young woman, Ninalee Craig (the model) in Italy while traveling solo.  Together they attempted to capture the experience of traveling alone in Italy. 

Some have claimed this photo is a symbol of harassment.  While Craig claims it’s a symbol of having a “wonderful time”  (source), I think it’s more a symbol of the kind of power feminine beauty has in Italy – and not much has changed in 60 years.  In Germany guys don’t make gestures, in America construction worker comments have killed the romantic potential but in Italy and in France, there still exists a “romance-worship” to the female.  With that comes a level of sexualization, sure, but when placed into the correct context, it’s a turn on rather than any symbol of harassment.  This photograph is a compliment.

By default of existing we are looked at.  Where some see judgment other see compliment.  If more men weren’t afraid of being accused of sexual harassment when none was intended more women might enjoy the compliment of a whistle or two.  Attention isn’t always comfortable but no attention for too long makes for an old, bitter maid.

Jessica Valenti doesn’t understand the Streisand Effect

By J. DeVoy

Imagine if there was an online database of killers, child abusers, bigots, rapists and liars – and they were all women.  Now there is!  Register-Her.com, a project started by Paul Elam, a men’s rights activist and contributor to The Spearhead, uses a wiki-style webpage to consolidate locally and nationally reported facts about women whose documented wrongs range from murder to false rape accusations. [Disclaimer: Like Elam, I also contribute to The Spearhead.]  This is SRS BUSINESS.

One of the first additions to the site as a “bigot” is feministing’s own Jessica Valenti.  Merriam-Webster defines a bigot as “a person who is obstinately or intolerantly devoted to his or her own opinions and prejudices; especially : one who regards or treats the members of a group (as a racial or ethnic group) with hatred and intolerance.”  Without dignifying Valenti’s oeuvre with my attention, this sounds accurate.

If a tree falls in the woods, does anyone hear it?  If Jessica Valenti didn’t shriek like a harpy about “misogyny,” would so many others know about Register-Her.com?  Rather than letting this roll off her back with the cool disposition of an empowered, independent blah blah blah… woman, she posted this YouTube (which, admittedly, I have not watched to completion).

Result: More people know about the site.  Also, male advocates are increasingly stepping out of anonymity, contrary to Valenti’s assertions.  Paul Elam’s real name is… Paul Elam!  My name and identity are well known, and I’m on the record opposing anonymity in advocating men’s issues and any other controversial position  – though I understand and respect why others employ it.  Crime & Federalism offers a counterpoint on the issue here.  I rather enjoy this and, as far as I know, the “basement-dwelling virgin” meme has never been attached to me.  In fact, the biggest critics of women I’ve met are people among the best looking and most successful with women that I know.  In contrast, the basement-confined and virginal types tend to supplicate women and resent men who are successful with women, turning on them for the smallest of reasons (like in the case of Dominique Strauss-Kahn — come on, “forced” oral sex wasn’t a red flag of falsity?).

Just like when Barbara Steisand’s shrill howls – and not even her singing – drew attention to photos of her Pacific mansion online, Jessica Valenti’s plaintive whines drive more eyes to the site.  If she had just shut up, the damage would have been limited mostly to the men who would have found the site anyway – preaching to the choir.  Realizing that the damage was done, Valenti is now trying to scrub the internet of any trace of her existence, seeking the anonymity she criticizes men for using to voice their opinions.  I hope Reputation Defender is still in business!

But enough about a bitter, angry shrew who has to live not only with herself, but also a younger, neckbeard beta husband.  The new site itself, Register-Her.com, is a more worthy topic of discussion.

Is it fair for Register-Her.com to exist?  The Atlantic tells us that it’s the “End of Men.”  Women already kvetch and attack men’s reputations on Don’t Date Him Girl.  There’s no need for free speech to be “fair,” since its mere availability levels the playing field.  This new website fills a void in beating back the myth of intrinsic female virtue, though.  I clicked around to see what the site was about and found that each article is a recitation of sourced, cited and publicly available information.  In some cases, the women profiled in the articles are described in their very own words.  While the site was designed to be provocative, it was not created with the intent to hurt those named within it for the sheer purpose of inflicting pain.  Plus, there are limitations of liability inherent in the site’s design and operation.  Section 230 protects the site’s owner from liability for content posted by others.  To the extent others’ content may wind up on the site, such as a mugshot or screen capture, they tend to be government works – which are not subject to copyright – or tiny snippets of news articles that are almost certain to constitute fair use — assuming the articles’ factual elements can even be copyrighted.

As for litigation that can be pursued against the site… what, exactly?  Where is the disclosure of public facts when all of the site’s information is available from other online sources?  What unreasonable attention has been brought to someone’s private life?  How is aggregation of the news shocking or extreme conduct — especially when Register-Her.com is a republication of what others have written?  I’m confident Elam has the compassion to remove an entry if there’s a good reason to do so, but it is unlikely that reason would be expressed via litigation with even a remote chance of success, even as a SLAPP suit.

I’ve no doubt that this is far from the end of whining and gnashing of teeth over Register-Her.com.  More will come as the site’s contents work their way up Google’s search algorithm.  All they will do, however, is make the site more well-read and well-known. (See also Juicycampus.com (RIP).)

Protected Expression or Privacy Violation — Discuss…

(Source)

Acceptable third alternative: Crazy-ass zombie cannibal worshiper needs something better to do with his time.

Well wrap me up in semen and diamonds and lick me

by Tatiana von Tauber

Supermodel Naomi Campbell is insulted at being compared to Cadbury’s Dairy Milk Bliss chocolate as in this ad. She’s considering legal action at its racist tone.

If Cadbury’s Dairy Milk Bliss were white chocolate and compared to a white supermodel, I wonder if racism would come into the interpretation zone. Sexism might as who doesn’t love to lick chocolate and we could interpret that white chocolate subtly refers to creamy semen giving a whole new meaning to “milk bliss”. Interpretations are something interesting aren’t they?

Tribute to motherhood

by Tatiana von Tauber

I’ve been a mother for 13 years now and I’ve changed my mind about it. I used to fear it until I got the hang of it and then somehow I liked it. Of course, in the absence of thought during the like stage I decided to have another baby in my mid 30s. Yes, good ‘ol sex got in the way. I love my children and the meaning of family; however, motherhood is extremely exhausting and with 2 teens and a 5 year old I’m finding challenge in the once manageable balancing act of career and motherhood.

I’ve been thinking about it recently because I lost that balance by moving back abroad. The rhythm was good until it spun too quickly and I fell off. I’ve gotten back up but I see feminism from primarily a “mommy” perspective.

Being a mother changes the deepest set views of what it means to be a woman and to want a career. I’m deeply grateful to what women have done for our freedom to express our womanhood – femininity – and capability but the older and wiser I get the more I love the fact that my husband works and I’m the artistic “trailing” wife (in the expat world) and mother.

Often we don’t give enough credit to mothers. Our society bangs us with the idea that we want children and family but when we have them it’s not always the roses promised but no one usually gives the hardliner truth. Parenting is damn hard and don’t judge it until you have a crack at it. I learned that while I’m thankful for the choice of having babies, it’s a full time job in the sense of constant awareness. My brain hurts. It’s reality we often sweep under the magic carpet.

The energy to create is not equal to the energy to clean up

It’s possible to balance it all but keeping that balance takes a lot of energy and eventually something gives. Women have proven they can have their cake and eat it too but I’ve found that it resembles more of the cake in your face scenario. American mothers too often forget to stop and smell the roses along the way. Like marriage, family is a “for better for worse commitment”. The most common challenge women face is a loss of identity.

My biggest wish this Mother’s Day is for women still searching for that “me” under the “mom” title is to find themselves this year by exploring who they are as women, the dreamers who had visions of self-experience without diapers, teen attitudes and parental responsibility. Redefining that through the transformation of motherhood is the best reward motherhood has offered me. I’ve grown beyond my expectations because I had to. It was part of maternal survival.

Happy Mother’s Day.

What goes around comes around, Mr. Assange

I support Julian Assange and his Wikileaks project. More transparency in government is a good thing, and it appears that Wikileaks was not conducting its document dumps willy-nilly. Wikileaks seems to have vetted the content with responsible journalism organizations (source), and it has done more good than harm. Those who call him a “terrorist” are either stupid, servile statists, or just politicians who are desperate to appear to be tough-on-albinos.

That said, I agree that Assange might not be the most sympathetic boy in the world. Yeah, he’s egotistical. Yeah, he’s narcissistic. But, as Jessica Christensen said, “Assange may be a narcissistic freak show, but so was MLK Jr. and Ghandi and Larry Flynt and … you name it. In fact, one might argue that perhaps it takes being a bit of a narcissistic freak show to have the cajones and the lack of good judgement and well-crafted strategy to act, to stand up and do the thing that everyone else is too sheepish to do.”

I also agree that it seems like the “rape” charges against him are a combination of some pissed off leftist clowns running amok with the weapons that a feminist dystopian legal system puts in the hands of scorned women. (source) And Julian Assange has a right to be pissed off at those two fetid clams as well.

But Assange is making a caricature of himself now. He’s pissed off that the documents from his case have been leaked to the press.

Of course, the man has a right to a fair trial. As rabid of a First Amendment warrior as I try to be, I recognize that the Sixth Amendment provides equally compelling rights. Despite the fact that neither Amendment applies to this case or this trial, the values inherent in them are universal values in civilized countries. If Mr. Assange were anyone else, I would be a bit more outraged at the leak as a slap against his right to a fair trial.

But he isn’t anyone else.

Assange needs to fire the fool who is advising him on his public relations strategy. The correct message for Mr. Assange to toss out there is “while this is an unfortunate attack on my right to a fair trial, I stand for the proposition that sunlight is the best antiseptic. Let the documents fly as they may, for the truth will float to the surface.”

“The Cup Size Choir”

By Tatiana von Tauber

Sexy.  Fun.  Brilliant.

(Daily Mail article here.)

Joy to the world, and naked women

By Tatiana von Tauber

"Size Zero" is a downer.

As a boudoir photographer I see lots of women naked. Most clients fall into two groups: Those who look so hotter than they ever thought they could, or those who use boudoir photography to confirm they are as fat, cellulite-ish or unsexy as they feared (I’m an artist, not a Photoshop God). Too often I deal with clients’ self-body hatred and it’s come to a bothersome point — having befriended women whose bodies are scarred not for beauty but for self-preservation and basic survival.

While producing The Art Cure project, a breast cancer awareness art show and charity event this October, I met a group of wonderful women who have battled breast cancer and won. The leader of a Savannah breast cancer awareness affiliate is a proud survivor; however, just days ago she was re-diagnosed with a malignant spot in her breast and will undergo surgery Thursday. Chemo may be necessary as well.

Another friend, a 34 y/o mother of 4 is a BRCA 1 gene carrier meaning she’s 90% more likely to develop breast cancer in her lifetime than a non-carrier. Her mother is a survivor and most likely, at least one of her 4 children will have the gene too. Having options, my friend chose preventive surgery and had a double mastectomy less than a year ago and Thursday she’s having a hysterectomy to avoid her increased risk of ovarian cancer because of the gene. In fact, with unexpected complications with reconstructive surgery to her breasts she’s undergone over 10 surgeries this year alone. Of course, just this morning we heard Elizabeth Edwards’ cancer fight has come to a matter of time before she dies. Doctors can do no more and that further slumped my morning bliss.

I’m slightly paralyzed mentally as I battle the reality of having friends who seem to be having what I’d call “real” problems yet dealing with women on various levels who create their problems.

I have friends dying of cancer, replacing their breasts with scars to save their lives and find myself stuck in a very judgmental state of mind: fuck the silicone to add an extra cup to your lacking boobie confidence. Who cares about the extra flab on your thigh when your 45 year old ass looks so much sexier than your own mom’s ass at that age? That a 45 year old woman can pass as a MILF these days, now that’s something to applause because in my childhood women at 45 were old and quickly turning into fat grandmas while discarded into the kitchen or bingo games. I’m sure your grandmother looked more like Mrs. Doubtfire than anything Hollywood produces as mainstream mid-life bombshell turned rather hot “for your age” grandma. Don’t boo-hoo to me that you don’t like your own aging body and have me Photoshop you into a blur so you don’t have to face your own reality. At least you have a healthy body I want to say. I mean all this respectfully, of course, but sometimes being nice about it just doesn’t sink in.

Helping women realize their beauty is wonderful and rewarding. It’s the part of my job I get high on. Convincing women their imperfections are not ugly is another matter. It’s like being a lawyer and facing a deadlocked jury. The frustration of all that work to end up at a dead-end is baffling, annoying and draining. The biggest harm women do to themselves is to believe men actually give a damn about their cellulite or other female obsessed imperfections.

In the grouping of those I consider good friends and women I care about, one announced her malignant bump yesterday; another undergoes removing the last bit of biological femininity she was born with two days from now; another recently wrote about personal struggles from Borderline Personality Disorder wherein the meds are killing the once active sex drive (which really has a snowball effect) and another who deals daily with the struggle of the death of her child from a disease. I top this off with the fact that I live my life with a man I dearly love and who struggles daily with wounds from war, VA bureaucracy and PTSD as a result of serving in the United States Army for “freedom”.

I feel a more pressing need for higher meaning in my life this season than the usual.   The American Humanist Association suggests we celebrate “Reason” this season rather than “myth” of God.  I suggest we celebrate our lives, our bodies and our families.  Period.

I’m having one of those days where a good walk, a breath of fresh air and deep gratitude for my status quo is in order. I am healthy and surrounded by love. Most importantly, I know my worth and understand my value. Too many women are blind to theirs. In fact, on different levels the same applies to men.

Perhaps a good walk in the cool air is a good idea for you too. Ponder love and then see where your mind travels.

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year to you all.

Tatiana von Tauber

Because who cares if it’s your kid?

By J. DeVoy

Troubling news from Britain, America’s canary in the coalmine and a target of immense reverence from college students who lived there – in a nice part of town, with other Americans – while studying abroad.  From a Spectator article arguing for the complete end of DNA paternity testing:

At a stroke, the one thing that women had going for them has been taken away, the one respect in which they had the last laugh over their husbands and lovers. DNA tests are an anti-feminist appliance of science, a change in the balance of power between the sexes that we’ve hardly come to terms with. And that holds true even though many women have the economic potential to provide for their children themselves. (source.)

First and foremost, let’s put the shoe on the other foot: Aren’t feminists constantly calling for tort consequences against men who make minor verbal misrepresentations to get laid?  Certain women seek to denude men of their tools for getting what they want while keeping their own.  Also, it seems imbalanced for feminists to deride men for using verbal and physical tactics to make themselves more appealing  - “game,” writ large – while 1) they do the same thing with makeup and dating guides like The Rules, and 2) the “one respect in which they had the last laugh over their husbands and lovers” has consequences much farther reaching than waking up one morning, rolling over and realizing you were – by your own consent – pwned by some dude with a weak chin and guyliner.

The way McDonagh describes her venomous opposition to paternity testing in the article reveals much about those who would take it away: It’s not about equality, or even fairness, but about power. (I want to note now that this is not the majority or even a sizable number of women, but a vocal segment nonetheless; this is addressed at the end of the post.)  Through science, men have empowered themselves to determine whether they are the parents of the children borne by their lovers, spouses, or complete strangers alleging paternity.  A particularly shrill segment of society wants to end that for no reason than consolidating power for themselves – ultimately in the form of child support expropriated from men by the state – and by using shame to do so.

The next Bridget Jones movie may turn this under-discussed issue into a talking point. For those who didn’t follow the columns that took our heroine into the next stage of female angst — about being childless rather than single — the gist is that BJ becomes pregnant, but she is not entirely sure by whom, having been seeing the nice Colin Firth boyfriend, and the bad Hugh Grant one, in pretty short order. The matter could have been fruitfully ambiguous, with Bridget having a choice of fathers, but it was resolved in sordid contemporary fashion, one of the candidates being wrestled to the ground by Bridget’s girlfriends, so as to swab his inside cheek for a DNA sample. And so she found out the paternity of the baby and the most ancient game of humankind, Guess the Daddy, wasn’t played any more.

Bridget Jones never quite caught on like Sex and the City did, but the movies have always had a following.  With this third movie, the die is cast and a seed is planted in the public psyche; people who never would have considered the implications of paternity fraud will have the opportunity to question whether it’s right for them, like some service touted on Oprah, and if they shouldn’t settle for less than the father they feel their child deserves.  Paying the bill for this, of course, will be men, as detailed in a lengthy New York Times exposé from November 2009.

Now I can see that some men might rather welcome an end to the old-fashioned scenario whereby they find themselves held to account for the paternity of children born to girls with whom they just happen to have had sex.

You don’t say.

The actor Jude Law recently found himself in just this position, and unhesitatingly and ungallantly demanded a DNA test.

Reframed: Jude Law saw millions of dollars potentially flying out of his pocket to a child that possibly wasn’t his.  True to the Reagan maxim, he verified what he had been told by the mother.  He saved himself a life of financial hardship to support someone else’s offspring, as any rational person would do.  Is the reasonableness of this decision noted?  Is the fact that this is what any mother or father would counsel their son to do recognized?  No, the reason Jude Law shouldn’t have tethered himself to a child that wasn’t his is shame.  It was ungallant for Law to demand a paternity test.  Surely he should have “manned up” and paid someone vast sums of money for being cunning enough to accuse him of being the father.  Similarly, I have my own characterization for this argument: bullshit.

By contrast, the old situation, in which women presented men with a child, and the man either did the decent thing and offered support, or made a run for it, allowed women a certain leeway. The courtesan in Balzac who, on becoming pregnant, unhesitatingly sought, and got, maintenance from two of her men friends, can’t have been the only one. Uncertainty allows mothers to select for their children the father who would be best for them.

Finally, and with refreshing honesty, the article reaches why certain women fear DNA paternity testing.  DNA testing requires mothers to go with the dads they have, rather than the ones they want.  Admittedly, this doesn’t address step parents or adoptive parents who stand in to raise someone else’s children, but McDonagh’s article similarly does not address this point — as they are fully aware of the family situation they enter, rather than being deceived into raising a child as their own, step parents and adoptive parents seem outside the scope of this situation.  When it comes to cuckoldry, though, there is no better asset in the resource-gathering war than ambiguity.

Banning DNA testing essentially would reduce paternity disputes to the dark ages.  It does not seem unreasonable for a woman to want the most honorable and successful man to raise her child.  He would be the most likely to accept, too, fearing the social repercussions of being accused of not taking responsibility for his child.

Many men have, of course, ended up raising children who were not genetically their own, but really, does it matter?

Yes.  Only in this sick, broken world, sliding into a new dark age with hollow politically correct platitudes serving as truth, could the author ask this question deadpan.  Many parents lovingly adopt or raise children who are not their own, but this ignores McDonagh’s broader question of “does [paternity] matter?”  Legally, and for the cuckold who believes the child is his, and raises it under those circumstances – rather than as an adoptive parent or step parent – it absolutely matters.

If DNA testing ever was to be banned in the United States, it would raise an interesting constitutional question.  Matters of birth and abortion are generally covered by a broadly defined right of privacy that governs martial relationships and reproduction.  First established in Griswold v. Connecticut, 381 U.S. 479 (1965), then expanded to cover abortion by Roe v. Wade, 410 U.S. 113 (1973) and sex in Lawrence v. Texas, 539 U.S. 558 (2003).  Under Roe‘s progeny, a woman has broad rights over her pregnancy and ability to take it to term, but states may require DNA tests after birth to confirm or deny paternity.  If this practice is banned, it may create a question of whether child support payments would constitute an unconstitutional taking of property.  When paying judgments or taxes, the government takes steps to ensure that the right person is paying the judgment.  Even now, the government has stepped in to halt a foreclosure process that cannot produce the notes of delinquent mortgage holders — despite many of them rightly being subject to foreclosure.  Whether the government can take property from a putative father based on a woman’s say-so, and without using testing that was previously available, would be an important but dangerously uncertain question.

There is an essential caveat to this position.  This post does not apply to all women, or seek to imply it addresses all of them.  In fact, the segment of society seeking to end DNA paternity testing is small and on the fringe of political activism.  Similarly, these changes would affect only a small portion of the population. Historically, however, it is the squeaky wheel that receives the grease.

Among my age group, the ideas of marriage and children are met with a blend of derision and fear.  Men, women and children didn’t change; the legal and social atmosphere did — and neither gender seems particularly happy about it.  A couple’s higher earning spouse lives in fear of divorce, particularly in no-fault divorce states.  The costs associated with divorce and child support contribute to men being unwilling to marry.  Based on the concern over men’s hesitation to marry, it seems that women don’t envy the prospect of endlessly dating and potentially missing out on the brass ring of marriage, either.

Removing the protection of DNA paternity testing will only agitate existing tension and mistrust between the genders, which neither of them seems to have particularly wanted.  Nobody wants to be divorced, or live constantly on guard to the prospect of his or her partner being constantly solicited – or soliciting others – in pursuit of the elusive “something better” that we’ve been told is waiting for us.  Few men or women will ever need DNA paternity testing, but eliminating its existence likely will create paranoia and distrust between men and women that otherwise would not have existed.  It will only serve to make degrading gender relations worse and, in the end, hurt everyone.

O’Dear O’Dumb O’Donnell

By Tatiana von Tauber

My oh my.  It just doesn’t get any better than this recording of Christine O’Donnell showing what anti-Tea Partiers have been cringing about all along.  While at first it’s funny O’Donnell doesn’t know much about the separation of church and state or the First Amendment, on the deeper side we know just how scary this can be. This is the same camp as Sarah Palin and no doubt a wonderful addition to the new and ”improved” version of the dumb blonde: the dumb brunette.  They’re few and far between and seem to congregate at Tea Party functions.  

video: http://www.dailykostv.com/flv/player.swf

The Art Cure for Boobies

by Tatiana von Tauber

As much as I fought integrating into Southern living, I’ve managed to walk into terrains new to me and it brought unexpected happiness. After a friend came down with stage IV cancer, I suddenly got tired of trying to make “my” life good. From the looks of it, it was. I was breathing with no possible end in its near future unless I was hit by a bus. Within a weekend I went from trying to figure out which way to tweak my professional life to creating an international art show and charity event, a most humbling experience that’s way overdue.

To share, I’ve founded The Art Cure. When I thought I wouldn’t make it through life’s struggles and its confusing emotions I dove into art and discovered a perception never seen before. It bettered me.

I decided to help others through my experience with art and invited breast cancer survivors to paint with me while I documented the experience in a book, The Art Cure Diaries, which you can view and purchase. The paintings created during the art sessions will be up for a silent auction October 1 to 29, 2010. Online bidding is available. I’ve put my heart and soul into this for the past 2 and a half months and I’d love your participation.

I invite you to look at the fabulous project I’ve been a part of and the incredible messages you – we – should keep in mind as we go about our daily lives. National Breast Cancer Month begins in October. You might be tired of all that pink stuff in its over commercialized state but after my experience with The Art Cure, I embrace pink in ways I never have.

The Art Cure has 23 paintings by survivors, their daughters and friends – the majority of whom thought they weren’t artists until I offered the opportunity for them to discover what was hidden. The best of what and who we are is often in the shadows. So rarely we allow ourselves to enter that world. Many of these women have never painted before. Judging from the results, you’d hardly know. I’m so very proud of them.  We also have works coming in from all over the world from other artists who wanted to be part of this event.

One hundred percent of all online silent auction sales will be donated to charity.

For details about the project, please visit www.theartcure.blogspot.com.  To view my latest interview with Savannah Now’s “Talking Real”, click here.

Below is my contribution to the silent auction and it’s up for bidding in October.  Make me proud, boys.  It’s for the boobies.

click to view larger

Don’t forget to view the exclusive final result of this entire project right here: The Art Cure Diaries book.  Its 152 pages are packed with beautiful photos, paintings and stories about women who survived or are undergoing breast cancer.  It’s a work of love and inspiration and recommended for anyone who has been touched by breast cancer in their lives.

The Academic Feminist Witch Hunt

An audition for a blogging spot at Feminist Law Professors

By Marc J. Randazza

“Feminist Law Professors,” is a blog that throws cyber-tantrums at the notion of anonymous speech on the internet. (more and more) Their comment policy prefers that the authors name themselves, of course.

But, when they decide to start an academic lynch mob, these rules go out the window, and on go the masks. They bring us this anonymous criticism of Adam Cohen, a Yale Law professor who published a Time magazine article criticizing Judge Judith Raub Eiler. The author elected to remain anonymous, so lets do two things… lets call the Irony Police, and lets call her “Professor Useless Twat,” because that is about as fair as her criticism of Professor Cohen.

Here’s some of Cohen’s criticism of Judge Eiler.

When a defendant showed up on a traffic charge, Judge Judy delivered a zinger: “If you drive like an idiot ’cause you’re late for work, you’re gonna have to pay for it.” Then she piled on: “You can see your picture on the headlines of the Seattle Times, stupid young man who shouldn’t be driving.”

Another defendant recalled that the tart-tongue jurist humiliated and bullied her until she broke down in tears. “She frequently interrupted answers with insults,” the woman recalled.

This bullying Judge Judy was not Judge Judith Sheindlin, the tough-talking former New York City Family Court judge who has the top-rated judge show on syndicated television. It was Judge Judith Raub Eiler, her real-life doppelgänger, who sits at a county court in Seattle. Instead of high ratings and rich syndication fees, this Judge Judy’s aggressive demeanor earned her a five-day suspension without pay courtesy of the Washington State Supreme Court. (source)

Cohen criticized Eiler for being demeaning to litigants, especially pro-se litigants. Cohen applauded the fact that Eiler suffered discipline for her behavior, and said it should have been stronger medicine. He wasn’t basing his position on the reading of entrails from dead animals — the Washington Supreme Court backs up Cohen’s position.

But since Judge Eiler has a vagina, here comes Professor Useless Twat, accusing Cohen of gender bias, akin to calling a black person a “nigger.” (Well, using an illustration from a gender discrimination case in which the judge made that analogy).

What? Really?

Yes, Professor Useless Twat played the “nigger card.” Mind you, its not that she used the word, as I said last week, but what a card to play in this round of poker! Professor Useless Twat’s point was to accuse Cohen of criticizing Judge Eiler for not being “feminine” enough — as if civility in the courtroom is a “feminine” characteristic. (And somehow the “nigger card” made sense to play there).

Well dress me up in drag and call me Sally, because as caustic as I am on this blog, I know how to use my “courtroom voice” when I am in the sacred space. Courtrooms are places where you should exercise civility — even when dealing with idiots, assholes, and useless twats. Courtrooms are what we have instead of dueling fields. The lawyers and the parties are expected to be nice to each other, or at least civil. If that makes me “feminine” when I’m in court, well, fine… gimme my skirt.

When a judge refuses to show civility – especially to pro se litigants, who might not exactly know all the rules, then she deserves to be called out for it. She deserves to be criticized for it. She deserves to be disciplined for it — whether she has a vagina or not. And that was Cohen’s point. Gender wasn’t an overt subject, nor even a subtext, in his article.

There may be intelligent arguments against Professor Cohen’s article. If there are any, calling him a “sexist” sure isn’t one of them, and playing the “nigger card” is just plain retarded. Doing it from behind a mask is unforgivable.

Professor Useless Twat’s critique is bad enough in a vacuum, but lets remember the habitat in which law professors must survive. The politically correct police run the show. You must fall over yourself demonstrating sensitivity to race, gender, and whether a guy wears panties under his suit. “Racist” or “sexist” are labels that end careers in academia, and when one law prof throws them at another, the intent is abundantly clear — this bitch is pissed off about something and wants to fuck over Mr. Cohen. No, what Mr. Cohen did is not the equivalent of calling the judge a “nigger.” But, if useless twat wants a nice analogy, her piece is like going back to 1950 and calling Cohen a “Communist,” or a “faggot.” Either one could end his career, if anyone took it seriously, and she damn well knew it.

And in academia, if he dared to defend himself, Cohen would run the risk of just pushing the barb in deeper. I don’t know Cohen. I might actually hate him if I met him (or I might think he’s the greatest guy ever). I don’t care. I feel compelled to defend him, because it is obvious what Professor Useless Twat is trying to do. I don’t know what her real issue is with Cohen, but there isn’t a shred of honesty in her accusations that his work is gender biased.

Waxing Virgins

By Tatiana von Tauber    

Satyriconista, Tatiana von Tauber

Very young girls these days are turning into women right before our eyes. Just last week CNN reported how today’s girls are beginning puberty as early as 7. The cause for this change is unclear but it’s thought to be attributed in part to chemicals in foods and “other environmental factors”. With the onset of puberty, challenges arise and increased hair growth is one.    

Unwanted hair is a real problem of course, specifically in certain places. Traditionally adults simply purchase a razor or make a waxing appointment and off we go. However, there’s a deeper issue developing with the hairless look. It’s not just about wishing to shave away from our monkey see, monkey do evolution. Unless hair is on our head, body hair on women (specifically) just ain’t pretty according to the beauty industry and the billions of dollars behind it.    

Have we gone too far  though when we sell adult women on the idea of waxing services for children as young as 8 years old with garbage such as this by  New York City salon, Wanda’s European Skin Care Center?    

Virgin hair can be waxed so successfully that growth can be permanently stopped in just 2 to 6 sessions. Save your child a lifetime of waxing…and put the money in the bank for her college education instead!” (source)    

   
Virgin hair?! What a trade off and in fact, what a sell out to young girls. We at LS have already discussed the aesthetics, purpose and preference of female pubic hair on adult women but the idea of bikini waxes on 8 to 12 year old girls just doesn’t hold the same level of debatable fun. No need to ask why. Many might even agree with Marc Randazza:    

I realize that I am a dad of a young girl, and one day I am going to have to simply accept that she has become a sexually active young woman. I can brace myself for that. But, if any sick bitch like the owner of Wanda’s places her hands on Natalia when she is 8 years old, I will not use my law degree to deal with the problem. I will slap that bitch so hard that she’ll turn inside fucking out.”    

I hear ya. It’s enough I’ve been frustrated for years about the lack of responsibility child-geared media and businesses take with respect to young girls and boys and what I view as basic disrespect towards childhood in and of itself. No matter how I try to feed childhood to my kids, the external world doesn’t seem to let them be kids.    

This extends further out than offering waxings. It goes into the heart of how kids are treated versus what is fed to them. Any adult can attest that the messages are in fact confusing. Basically if you have a young child you are bombarded with grown up stuff made child accessible or “child-size”. For girls trends hit waxings and Botox: 

According to the American Society of Plastic Surgeons, 12,000 teens received Botox injections in the last year. (source) 

For kids these days, what exactly do they have to look forward to as adults that they can’t do or attain or have access to during their childhood to teen years?   

One core issue here is that girls are under the influence of adult problems packaged up to meet “needs” of youth when most youth wouldn’t even know they apparently needed it if it weren’t for the beauty, fashion and entertainment industry selling them such ideas! Kids aren’t prepared for the realities of adulthood nor should be.  But why am I explaining it to you. You understand. So why do those in power seats that guide our children not get the obvious? Well, to borrow from the feared or loved Lady Gaga, it’s “money, honey“.    

If the entire beauty bullshit didn’t start with pre-school conditioning by Strawberry Shortcake aka 21st Century redheaded bimbo  (watch if you can stand it) or Dora the Explorer the Tramp, now a “tween” version showing a more fresh look for optimal marketability and profits or the myriad of other product lines sold to children, parenthood might actually be easier on the wallet and more beautiful in itself because us parents might have a chance to discover the pure and natural beauty of childhood from the way it’s supposed to be. I feel privileged my generation still had access to innocence; we don’t get to frolic in that state long enough.    

The fleeting existence of innocence is what makes childhood to pre-teen age the most spectacular state of mind to experience. Why then is it severely undervalued and why are women obsessed with youthful beauty? Because our culture believes the old should look young and the young should look older.  This philosophy sits on profit not truth but no age is immune to the power of marketing and capitalistic opportunity and don’t be fooled it’s ever because the beauty industry actually cares if you save your kids’ waxing money on a college fund.  Beauty is business first. If there’s any truth to send out to young girls, that’s it.