So, here's how this works [and this post, FYI, is sticky and therefore ALWAYS AT THE TOP OF THE PAGE]: About half of my journal is personal, and therefore friendslocked. The other half is more anti-oppression focused, and can be read (and commented on) by anyone.

So! If you just want to hear my political thoughts, you do that! If, though, you want to BE MY FRIEND, comment on this entry, and we'll see what happens.

So, I know I never post on here anymore. But LJ has done something HUGE and FUCKED-UP, and you should be aware of it.

Here are the details. To make a long story short, they have subscribed to a service that finds certain keywords in links ("Buy" and "free" are two that have been noticed) and causes those links to redirect to certain commercial sites, like Amazon and eBay.

So far it seems there is a long--but finite list of links that trigger this redirection--more information at the post I linked to up above.

There's a way to opt out, but it's a little weird. Again, it's laid out for you at the above link.

Seriously not cool LJ. Fail.

So, I just started class again yesterday. Which means I've been spending a lot of time looking at course outlines. And (as the title to this post implies) I've noticed something. It's a seemingly insignificant thing, but I actually find it really interesting. It's just a little word string that crops up over and over again in the syllabuses for arts courses (in high school or university): "With special emphasis on Canadian content"*.

"With special emphasis on Canadian content". Now, I think that's valuable. I think it's good to look at what people in our own country are doing, because I feel like their efforts are often overlooked. Where it becomes interesting is when you compare us to, say, America. Now, I've never taken a class there, so I am to a certain extent, talking through my hat here. But I'm guessing most courses don't include "with special emphasis on American content" in their descriptions. And furthermore? I'm betting a lot of those courses still primarily focus on American content.

Why is this? If I had to hazard a guess, it would be something like the following: the USA is (to be frank) a bit of a domineering country. It's built a national identity around the idea of being the top of the heap, of being the best. And as such, it promotes its cultural products pretty aggressively, even in other markets. To use the nomenclature of identity politics, it sets itself up as an unmarked or neutral category.

And what that means for Canada is that we have to, to a certain extent, define ourselves oppositionally. Many Canadians consume mainly (or entirely, even!) American cultural products--American television, movies, theatre, literature...heck, even American foods and beverages! (Most major food chains here--the obvious exception being Tim Hortons--are rooted in the US). And that means that, without courses explicitly protecting Canadian content, it's going to be lost in the shuffle. Which would be a damn shame, because there are some wonderful, vibrant, talented voices coming out of Canada. Voices which all too often go ignored.

I don't have any neat conclusions to draw here--just an observation I thought was worth sharing. It's amazing, how unexpected the sources for inspiration can be.


*Or some variant thereof.

[Crossposted to Dreamwidth]

I think this question is actually really interesting, because it gets to the heart of how I've changed over the past, I don't know. Call it a year or so.

In simplest terms: I don't put up with shit anymore. I am tired, tired to the bone of smiling politely and trying to get along with people whose views I find so fundamentally, terribly wrong. It's work--I'd be lying if I said it wasn't. Calling people out, or not letting them get away with things, is really hard, and I don't always succeed in doing it. But I try, I try damn hard, and that's because it matters.

To get back to the question: I suppose I still respect people who hold opposing views on key issues (and I promise, I'll get to what those issues are). But that respect is tenuous in the extreme, and prone to being revoked. I try and get along with people, to not make waves, and I do feel that someone can hold a wrongheaded view but still be a good person, because people are complicated. But if the person holds that view with conviction, and not just through ignorance, the respect is conditional in the extreme.

And I'll never trust them. Never. Respect is one thing. Civility is one thing. But don't ask me to trust someone who has shown themselves willing to compromise on or flat-out oppose [here we go with the list] queer rights. Or women's rights. Or disability rights, or rights for people of colour. Rights for people who aren't wealthy, or for those who don't fit into the dominant religion. For people who are the "wrong" shape or size, or don't fit into an appropriately gendered box. Or anything at all that's about treating people as equals, as human beings. If you oppose any of that, I may--may--respect you, depending on the circumstance. I may--may--even like you. But I will never, never trust you.

Because if you don't believe that everyone deserves to be treated fairly, without any of the weasel-words that so often accompany these problematic viewpoints (at least, when they're expressed by "liberal" people), then how can I trust you?

How can I trust you when you've shown that you believe some people are inferior?

[Crossposted to Dreamwidth]

So, yesterday, I went to NYC for the day! I met up with givesmevoice and riot_cabaret, and we ended up seeing (after abortive attempts at Ragtime and Finian's Rainbow) In the Next Room.

And you know what? I'm glad we did. Because it was excellent. It takes place at the dawn of the electric age, and centers on a young mother and her husband, a doctor who treats hysteria patients through vibrator-induced "paroxysms". This sounds...questionably tasteful, but it's handled both politely and hilariously.

The play itself is excellent. But the true joy is in seeing what the actors do with the material. There are seven characters, but four of them are basically peripheral. The three at the centre of the story are Dr. Givings (Michael Cerveris), Mrs. Givings (Laura Benanti), and Mrs. Daldry (Maria Dizzia). And they are all excellent. Benanti is, of course, fabulous as Mrs. Givings. She's flighty, charming, and her line-readings are perfect. Cerveris is less flashy, but so is his part. He nails Dr. Givings' slightly distracted demeanour. And then there's Maria Dizzia.

Without question I am now a massive Maria Dizzia fan. Massive. Her Mrs. Daldry is basically perfect, alternating rapidly between girlish glee and dour tradition. She embodies the numerous contradictory emotions of the character, and manages to do it all believably and hilariously. We met her at the stagedoor afterward, and she was completely unrecognizable as the character. She became a different person onstage. (As a sidenote, we also met Benanti and Cerveris at stagedoor, who were both charming).

Finally, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention Quincy Tyler Bernstine as Elizabeth, Mrs. Givings' wetnurse. Her role is not at all a flashy one--for most of the show she remains a peripheral figure--but in the second act she has a long monologue which I found very powerful indeed, and which Ms. Bernstine delivers extremely well.

Bottom line: It's a very good play, well worth seeing. Student rush tickets, which we got, are also only $21, and resulted in (at least for us) quite good seats.

(xposted at Dreamwidth

But not a new one, exactly. I'm putting together a portfolio of work I did for my theatre historical studies class, and I realized I really like the comparison I did of Ibsen's Nora Helmer and Hedda Gabler [from, respectively, A Doll's House and Hedda Gabler. Thus, I am reproducing it here, for your pleasure:

---

Nora Helmer, of A Doll House, and Hedda Gabler, of the play with the same name, are Ibsen's two most recognizable heroines. Both are considered tremendously difficult roles to play, roles which will really test the skill of the actress performing them. On the surface, they seem like very different characters. But are they really?

I would argue that Nora and Hedda, while behaving in very different ways, do so from similar motivations. Both are stifled by convention. Both are bored by their lives as archetypal housewives--the difference being that Hedda is aware of this from the beginning, where Nora takes time to come to the realization that she longs for independence. They come from similar motivations, but being different people, react in different ways.

Nora's impulses are essentially constructive/benign. She wants independence as a means of helping her family, and then, later, to protect them from what she sees as her "unfitness" as a wife and mother. She ultimately strikes out on her own, not as a way of spiting her family, but because her husband rejects her attempts at independence within the marriage (her taking out the loan and, to a lesser extent, her macaroons).

Hedda, on the other hand, has more destructive impulses. Her reaction to feeling trapped in an unsatisfactory life is to lash out. She does destructive things to relieve the monotony, as she herself states several times during the course of the play. Ultimately, of course, this approach catches up with her, and she takes her own life. She, unlike Nora, does not manage to extricate herself from her untenable situation in a satisfactory manner.

Comparing Nora and Hedda is interesting, because they show two very different ways of dealing with what is essentially the same problem--the myth of contented domesticity. Both ways have their pros and cons--Hedda's anger is justifiable, but Nora's more diplomatic approach isn't as alienating. Ultimately, the audience is able to find sympathy with both (assuming, always, they are portrayed by competent actresses).

So, for those who aren't aware, I'm really indecisive. Sometimes it's not too bad, but more often than not, when someone asks me to make a choice, I freeze up. Even if it's something as simple as "Where would you like to go for lunch?" or "which colour of this do you like better?", I can't do it.

So, when I defer the choice to you, fucking choose, okay? Because when I ask you to, it's because I need you to. It's not me being lazy, or apathetic. It's me being unable to make a decision, and you not understanding that is really obnoxious, okay?

It's worst when someone either frames it as "just choose! It's not that hard!" or as (I HATE THIS SO MUCH) if my complete shutdown in the face of making a decision is somehow entertaining. I assure you, were you on my side of things, you would see it differently.

The bottom line is: If, upon your asking me something, I request that you choose? I have a reason for doing so. It is my right to defer that choice, and you trying to force it back onto me is both discourteous and, frankly, a source of psychological distress to me. It hurts when I try to force a choice, mmkay?

And that's something I'm sure of.

You know what's really flat-out unpleasant? When you find yourself so unsafe-feeling in a classroom environment that you have to leave. You know what's never happened to me before today? Exactly that.

Let me explain. I'm taking an introductory philosophy course, in social/political issues. We've discussed libertarianism, Marxism, feminism...a variety of things. Generally, I trust the professor and think of her as a progressively-minded individual generally*.

But then there was today. We looked at homosexuality and same-sex marriage. Right off the bat, there's an issue here. Same-sex marriage falls pretty firmly into the political arena, so that's fair for the course. But homosexuality? Not so much, or at least it shouldn't, particularly in a course fairly centred on looking at political theories. But it gets worse. Oh boy, does it get worse.

So, one thing she's done before is ask if anyone objects to a given political theory, whichever one we're looking at in that lecture (say, for example, libertarianism). Now, that's cool. But can you see what's coming? That's right, she asked if anyone in the class morally objected to homosexuality. That? HUGE PROBLEM. Asking if someone thinks a political theory is flawed from a moral standpoint is pretty much ENTIRELY DIFFERENT from asking if an integral part of many people's identity is. Seriously!

To her credit, she seemed to realize we were looking uncomfortable, because then she asked if anyone thought her asking of that question was problematic. My hand, of course, shot up. I had a moment of relief when she picked someone else first, because I was already pretty freaked out, and I was happy to have someone else tackle the issue. Unfortunately, the guy she called on then started talking. And what he said was along the lines of "I think it's a problematic question because homosexuality is so accepted in our culture that even if someone disagrees with it they aren't necessarily going to say so".

I'm sorry, what? WHAT? For him to say that...and for her to not call him out, but to comment that he may be right that our classroom trends liberal, without noting (a) the hugely problematic nature of what he just said or (b) the fact that society at large is NOT LIKE THAT? That is majorly uncool. Hugely. Colossally. So I was feeling even more uncomfortable.

And finally, the last straw. She put verbatim quotes from anti-gay organizations up on the overhead. Now, she did this in the context of "I want to talk about how these arguments are flawed", which, okay. But to have written material directly attacking me up on the overhead, when it has already been established that today's lecture is not a friendly environment? I couldn't cope. I was actually shaking. Normally I'm able to distance myself somewhat from these things, but today, in this class, I couldn't.

I trusted my professor. And she betrayed that trust by allowing her classroom to be made into an unsafe, potentially triggering space for queer students. And that? Is not how you teach.

*Though there was an incident with ableism a couple of weeks back. I called her out on it after class, and she seemed responsive, but her apology to the class next day sort of missed the point (it was one of those "I'm sorry a student was offended" type things). So this wasn't completely untelegraphed, but still surprised me. [ETA: I should point out I believe that she meant well. But her execution was full of MASSIVE FAIL, at least in the part of the class I was there for. And that needs to be addressed]

This post is not going to be that interesting to most people, I think. I'm ranting about my teeth. And the University of Guelph health plan. And my brain, a bit later. SO BE WARNED.

( Here we go... )
So, there you go. Several reasons my teeth are on my mind, and an associated meandering rant about the way my mind works (on that note, if anyone has any advice or commonality of experience re: the last=mentioned problem, feel free to leave it in comments! Or drop me an e-mail at dorian [dot] jensen [dot] harper [at] gmail [dot] com. It'd be appreciated.

Oh hey! Want to know something? My birthday is four weeks from today. I'm going to post a list of things that I think are cool, for COMPLETELY COINCIDENTAL REASONS. Also, suggest that if you ever want my mailing address (again, not that this has anything to do with the impending list), you drop me a line at dorian [dot] jensen [dot] harper [at] gmail [dot] com. [Addendum: Or, if you have an LJ account and prefer, comment here and I'll message you the relevant info]

Let me be clear: I'm not expecting any gifts from random internet folks. Or even from folks who aren't internet folks, really! But I do like putting up a wishlist. It's just something fun I do. And if you want to indulge me, WHO AM I to complain?

So, without further ado...

( THE LIST )

So, Unity (1918) is the play my university is doing for their winter mainstage production. The cast and much of the crew, therefore, are students. I had to see it for not one, but two of my classes.

I don't know whether I would have gone otherwise (I didn't really have the money for tickets), but holy cow am I ever glad I did. Because it was an excellent play. It was written by Kevin Kerr, and premiered in 2001. It also won the Governor General's Award for Drama in 2002 (for those who don't know, the Governor General's Awards are presented annually in Canada in a great number of categories. It's a very high honour]. The play deals with the events in Unity, Saskatchewan, over a period of a month and a half or so in fall 1918. It's mainly concerned with how the war and the outbreak of Spanish Flu affect the residents of the town and their relationships with each other.

I was expecting it to be good, given what I had heard about it (my knowledge, prior to seeing it, can about be summed up by the preceding paragraph). What I was not expecting it to be was funny. And yet, it is. While parts of the script are definitely serious and really rather touching, others are frankly completely hilarious. (Such as the sequence where one character urges her sister to attack the town undertaker--whom she believes to be the Angel of Death due to her feverish state--with a stick that turns out to be a wooden dildo. Don't ask).

So, the script is phenomenal. You know what else was really excellent? The acting. I don't think there was a single cringeworthy performance, and a couple (Beatrice [the main character] and Sunna [the undertaker] in particular) were outstanding. I'm always slightly leery when it comes to non-professional actors (especially after seeing some truly hideous high school productions), but in this case there really wasn't anything to complain about.

The set and lighting were workaday, but served the story well. Which is really what matters. And the costumes were lovely and seemed for the most part period-appropriate (I'm not sure whether they were made specially, bought/rented, or some combination of the two). There's not a whole lot to be said about the design elements, really, because they were good but nonobtrusive. Which I feel is probably as it should be.

Two minor gripes:
First, there is a song at the end, to close the show. Now, it's a very nice song! However, it comes after a rather emotional moment, and I found it a really jarring transition--not to mention the fact that many of the characters are not really "singing" characters, if you understand what I mean by that. I feel like the play might have ended on a more reflective note if they had omitted it.

Secondly, and potentially more serious (at least, from within the anti-oppression framework I like to operate in): there is a blind character in the play. And I would have really loved to have seen him played by a blind actor. However, I can understand that casting a show at a university is very different from casting somewhere with a larger pool of actors, so I tolerate their decision; it's not like it's the Abigail Breslin Helen Keller thing (which continues to bother me). It just would have been nice to see. He still acted the part very well. And the portrayal of the character himself was quite good (no talk of what an Awful Tragedy it must be for him to have lost his sight, or his not being a Whole Person any more, or any of those other horrible tropes that tend to crop up when dealing with characters that acquire a disability).

Bottom line: It's a wonderful play. Since it's Canadian, it's highly unlikely that any of y'all who live elsewhere will have a chance to see a staged production (sadly, our theatre doesn't really escape our boundaries that often). But if by some odd twist of fate you do, or if you can track down the script, it's well worth doing so.

I want to tell y'all something. Sometimes (not often), I wish that I hadn't started educating myself on feminism/anti-oppression issues a couple of years ago. Also, sometimes (not often), I watch/read something that leaves me thinking "that could have been SO GOOD! If only...".

It should not surprise you that these two occurrences happen more or less in sync with each other. Nor should it surprise you that the film Camp (2003) is one of the things that produced the latter reaction.

It could have been so good! It's about a musical theatre camp, for gods' sake. Stephen Sondheim cameos as himself! It should have been right up my alley. And parts of it were! I really thoroughly enjoyed the musical numbers, and the plotline that dealt with theatre matters (to wit: a washed-up composer who is teaching at the camp and who the kids help to become less JADED and CYNICAL) was also really quite well done.

But then there were the problems. Oh, lordy, the problems. I'm going to break it down in list format (roughly arranged in the order these issues crop up in the film), because if there's one thing I love, it's lists.

( The Problems )

Now, the movie's not all bad! The musical numbers are excellent, Stephen Sondheim has a fantastic cameo, there's a really awesome drag party scene...there's a lot to like. It even tries to look at some serious issues (near the beginning, the gay lead is bashed for going to his prom in drag, and this is touched upon a couple of times throughout the film, though not in great depth).

However, there's a lot MORE that is so massively full of fail that it's pretty much impossible to ignore. Unfortunately.

And this brings me back to my opening lines: A couple of years ago, I probably would not have seen anything wrong with this film. Like, at all. And while on one level I am glad I am watching it now instead of then (because greater awareness is not by any stretch of the imagination a bad thing), part of me wishes I were able to just enjoy the Fun Musical Theatre Movie, without critiquing it for inclusivity and progressiveness.

Fortunately, (I think), that feeling passes. And then I go and write snarky reviews and SHARE THEM WITH YOU.

You know what bothers me? It's fashion-related, and if you have ever spent more than FIVE SECONDS reading red-carpet commentary, you'll have seen it. It is the trope that goes like this [this isn't a direct quote, but might as well be]: "The outfit hits her [and it is, always, a woman] at a weird place and makes her look wide, which she definitely isn't."

I HATE IT SO MUCH, Y'ALL. There are several things wrong with it! They pretty much all have to do with fat-hatred, but some of the implications are more subtle than others. The first, most obvious one, is the implication that "wideness" is something that MUST BE AVOIDED AT ALL COSTS.

The second thing, and the one I really started thinking about, is a little more difficult to parse. There are people, who when called on the grossness of saying "it makes her look WIDE", defend themselves with something along the following lines. "Oh, there's nothing wrong with being a larger person! But she's not one, so it's weird that this outfit makes her look like one!"

Okay then. Let's take this at face value. We'll assume that their sole problem is that they don't think people should wear clothes that misrepresent their body type. So, working on this assumption, let's look at some plus-size clothing. Let's see...we have belts, ruching, belts, skirted swimwear, vertical detailing, busy prints [with bonus belt!], belt-like colour-blocking, and belts.

Now, I'm not saying I don't think any of these outfits are nice--some of them really are! But, do you see what they're doing? They're doing exactly what these High-Minded Fashion Folk are saying is so wrong! They're attempting to pass off a body type as other than it is. The only difference is that they're making people look thinner (read: better!) as opposed to fatter (read: hideous!).

Do you find this as messed-up as I do?

So I say, screw "figure-flattering". Wear what you want to, regardless of whether it hits you at the "wrong" place on your thigh, or midsection, or shoulders. If you think you look good, that's who matters.

Although, if what you want to wear does have a belt, or ruching, or even a Weird Swimwear Skirt, that's fine! Like I said, I think a lot of those clothes look nice, and even if I didn't, it's really not my business to dictate your clothing choices. Just...it's no-one else's either. So don't let people tell you that that type of clothing is your only option.

Oh hey! Do you know who wants an adorable notebook and cute pens, given away by one of my Cool Blogger Folk? I do. Thus, this post.

Oh my god! So, is this question PERFECT FOR ME or what?

Anyway, yes, I do confront people (See the boojum post). I think it's really important that you don't let oppressive language slide, even if it's coming from someone you consider a good person. Relatedly, just because someone occasionally uses oppressive language doesn't mean they aren't a good person. We all mess up--god knows I do, often. And it's important to correct those slip-ups, even while acknowledging that they happen to well-meaning people.

I do want to point out that this question--while a good question--has at least one glaring problem that I can see. By focusing so specifically on racist and homophobic language, it ignores the equal prevalence of sexist, cissexist/transphobic, ableist, sizeist, and other types of oppressive language, all of which are equally important (though not more so--I am not interested in Oppression Olympics!) to address.

But still! Kudos to LiveJournal for selecting a Writer's Block question that doesn't make me want to TEAR MY HAIR OUT.

So, the backstory: There is currently a Bye Bye Birdie revival on Broadway, starring (among other people) Gina Gershon. Now, in Birdie as traditionally performed, there is a number called the "Shriners Ballet". This is it:


( Summary of video, for those who can't/don't wish to watch )

So, in the current production, this number is no longer part of the show. In interviews, Gershon has said because "It seemed a little too gang rape-y." [Via.]

And you know what? I think this is a reasonable concern. I do! The second part of the number shows a whole lot of men asserting power over a lone woman, in a context that has been established as quite clearly sexual. Don't get me wrong--as a dance, it's brilliant. And Rivera performs it wonderfully. But the power dynamic in it is a bit 'ugh'. As it isn't A HUGELY INTEGRAL PLOT POINT, its being cut doesn't harm the structure of the show, and quite possibly avoids triggering audience members who have survived sexual assault and wouldn't be expecting to be reminded of that in a "family-friendly" show.

However, most theatre people don't seem to take this stance. Their main argument seems to be "but it's been performed that way forever!" [And even the 'unbiased' news source that originally quoted Gershon takes this stance--see "where this number has been performed for nearly 50 years" {the entire article is actually pretty failtastic}]. Look, don't get me wrong--it's a very well-choreographed number, and requires a considerable amount of skill from the dancer. But "gang-rapey" is a valid concern to raise with it, and I feel like removing it from the show is a perfectly reasonable decision.

See where I said it requires skill from the dancer? That's where the other tactic from those opposed to its removal comes in to play. See, a whole lot of people are saying "I bet it was taken out because Gershon couldn't dance it". And it's true; Gina Gershon is not the strongest musical theatre actress. She's a good actress generally, but her voice has a narrow range and she is not a trained dancer.

But that does not invalidate her concerns with the number. It doesn't! It is possible that she could have difficulty dancing it, but also find it objectionable on ideological grounds. That's a valid stance! It's possible [though unlikely] that she is in fact quite capable of dancing it, but doesn't feel comfortable with the scene it portrays! ONE DOES NOT PRECLUDE THE OTHER.

I don't have a neat conclusion. It just really bothers me that Gershon's objection to the dance--which is a wholly valid concern; it can be read as "gang-rapey"--is being wholly dismissed. Being dismissed, what's more, in the form of a personal attack. "Oh, she's just saying it because she can't dance it". She might not be able to dance it. She might be able to. But either way, she (and, ultimately, the director, who made the decision to cut it) is still allowed to find it ideologically unsavoury. And to gloss over the very real issues that can be raised by this dance strikes me as unfair and, frankly, sexist.

Imagine if you will, dear readers, the following scenario:

You've had a fabulous day. You have been informed your audition for the musical was callback-worthy. You have registered for your next-semester courses, and are highly pleased with your schedule. You've undergone volunteer training with one group, done some volunteering with another, raised a pride flag, and even had fun in your classes! (Turns out, derivatives are pretty darn cool). You go to the library to kill some time online, and as you open up some of your favourite blogs, etc, the two people next to you strike up a lively conversation on how the problem with Canada is that the government is so afraid of being discriminatory that it practices reverse racism.

Wait, what?

As I'm sure you've guessed, this is what ACTUALLY JUST HAPPENED to me (I'm back at home now). As if that remark alone wasn't enough, they proceeded to complain about Aboriginal people! The gist of their argument was as follows: "Those darn Aboriginal folk! They see racism EVERYWHERE, when it clearly isn't so! Why, every time you back them into a corner with your UNASSAILABLE LOGIC, they just come back at you with 'well, you stole our land!' They are so racist toward us white people!"

I left. Sure, I could have made it a big Teachable Moment. I could have pointed out, y'know, that if someone is saying you are doing something racist, you should check to see if you are doing something racist! I could have explained that people of colour can't really be effectively racist toward white people, due to the power differential there. I could have opined that as white people did, in fact, steal Aboriginal people's land, pointing it out is not necessarily unforgivable. I could even have gone for the emotional argument, and said that, as someone Métis, their remarks were really, really fucking hurtful.

But I did none of these things, because I did. not. want. to. deal with it. They had just UTTERLY ANNIHILATED my good mood, and I was in no state to point out the flaws in their argument. So I walked away. And sure, part of me regrets that I couldn't explain what was so terribly wrong with their line of thinking. But the bigger part of me is grateful that I managed to save my own peace of mind.

--end rant--

UPDATE: So, upon reading the entry below, I realized it drastically misrepresented my motivation and--in point of fact--sounded kind of gross. So, let me clarify: This is a venture for wholly personal gain. While I do hope it gets me thinking more about certain issues, that is not the primary objective. And I'm def. not planning on using it as justification to co-opt the experience of PWD (because I think parts of it sound a bit like that was My Master Plan).

No, it's just that...I haven't relied on my own eyesight for any period of time longer than a haircut since I was...five years old. That's, like, thirteen years. Thirteen years where I have had no idea how I, myself, actually see the world without artificial aid.

I find that really weird. And I want to rectify the situation. So really, this is about self-discovery more than anything.

We now return you to the original post.

--------

So, I've decided to try an experiment of sorts.

As many of you are aware, I wear glasses pretty much constantly from when I get up until when I go to bed. I'm quite short-sighted, so without them, anything beyond 6-7 inches is essentially a blur.

However. I don't actually need to focus on most non-text things, I have recently realized. So I'm going to try and cut back on my glasses use, only using them when I actually need to, y'know. Read something, or something similarly vision-dependent.

I'm honestly not really certain why I'm doing this, except that I'm kind of fed up with being as dependent on my glasses as I am. I mean, no doubt they're a wonderful invention--because of them, less-than-extreme visual impairment isn't even really thought of as a disability in the public discourse. But there's no denying that they shape my life--I'm used to thinking that, if I lose my glasses, I'm TOTALLY FUCKED. Which, y'know, is a mindset I'd like to get out of.

In addition, it appeals to me solely as an experiment--how well can I function in day-to-day life without my vision? I mean, it's not like the glasses are an intrinsic part of me--they're an aide. One that not everyone's able to access (and I realize this experiment is a very dilettante-ish way of denying myself privilege--I mean, I'm planning to put them back on when I need to read something, for gods' sakes).

I'm just going to try it. And see what thoughts it provokes. It could go in any number of directions, and I'm interested in stuff like that.

Plus, I really like my eyes. And no-one else can see them properly under normal circumstances. So there's that.

Hello new readers! This post is directed at those of you who found your way here from this ain't livin', rather than my existing LiveJournal friends [though I LOVE YOU ALL]. Basically, I thought that since I might be seeing a bump in traffic, I should tell y'all a bit about myself and my blog.

( Probably pretty boring, to my friends )