Microblog

Right on, Target?

Target found itself under social media fire towards the end of last month, as a result of selling t-shirts that read TROPHY, MRS, and THIS IS MY BACKSTAGE PASS (among others)… in their junior girls department. Many groups representing different perspectives weighed in: outraged parents, verklempt feminists of all ages, fashionistas. Target responded by issuing an apology, assuring the public they never meant to offend anyone.

Fast forward to the present. Now Target is the focus of another social media storm, this time for removing gender qualifiers from several departments, such as Toys and Children’s Bedding. This move makes me both, incredibly happy and incredibly suspicious.

Why am I happy?
I identify as bi-gendered or androgynous, and people’s obsession with pegging each other as either male or female prevents me from enjoying life’s simple pleasures, like taking a piss in a public restroom without getting angrily redirected to the crapper people perceive as being the appropriate one for my gender presentation: I’m too feminine for the men’s room, and too masculine for the women’s. So I am stuck in an awkward limbo, where I have to wait until I’m about to wet my pants, so the urgency of taking a leak can supersede the feelings of embarrassment-driven hyper-awareness, or anger-driven self-righteousness.

Very much aside from my bathroom dilemma, I believe we should stop shaping up adults to grow up male or female, and focus more on cultivating individual strengths and aptitudes. Is it really that important for a child to wear pink or blue, or to love G.I. Joe vs. Hello Kitty, dependent on their genitalia? Shouldn’t we care more about nurturing and supporting them, period? Are we breeding to make gender-conforming individuals, or to bring productive happy caring humans into the world?

Why am I suspicious?
The timing of this controversial decision is worthy of attention. I have no way of knowing if Target has been considering this move for a while, or if they just scrammed in an attempt to distract people from the accusations of degrading sexism that stemmed from the Trophy t-shirt fiasco. To be fair, they have stirred the conservative pot quite a bit, but I don’t think it’d hurt to ponder on their motivations, even if only as an exercise in objectivity.

The irony: Al Jazeera reports on El Salvador’s violence epidemic

In a recent article, Al Jazeera reports on El Salvador’s alarming rate of 1 murder per hour.

Another article focuses on the recent transportation crisis caused by death threats to bus drivers.

Worth the read, as these are very accurate depictions of the current situation.

What does Trump’s popularity say about our society?

That we are tired of politicians who put votes before their constituency’s welfare? Perhaps.

If so many people cheer when Mr. Trump complains about political correctness, are they really saying they miss days gone by, when words like n****r and f*****t could be tossed around without worrying about a n****r or a f*****t overhearing and confronting them? Honestly, I think so.

Is clapping and whistling after a comment about lowly Mexicans ruining America, a sign of pent up anger and frustration at not being able to subjugate, even further, the dangerous, uneducated, illegal immigrants that take our menial jobs for meager pay? I’ll go with “very likely.”

Despite all the obvious signs of a people bursting at the seems with racism and classicism, they (Trump’s fans) will tell you that these accusations are ludicrous, that we need to stop being so sensitive and making every issue about race and discrimination. That this is America, and that nobody here hates on anybody, that persecution is a figment of our imagination, that racism died when slavery was abolished, that they are tired of being blamed for the systematic degradation of minorities, which isn’t even real in the first place.

I don’t have much of a point here… other than airing out what we all know: you, me, them, us. I’d also like to emphasize the difference between The Donald and his followers: he doesn’t pretend to be something he is not, but his groupies… they just hide behind his rhetoric and a myriad of microaggressions, and frankly I believe that to be way more despicable.

Diner owner screams at crying toddler – Thoughts from a non-parent

image credit: The Oatmeal

image credit: The Oatmeal

This article from The Huffington Post was just one of many written about a fascinating incident that took place last month in the state of Oregon:

  1. 1 diner, 2 parents, 1 child, and 1 short-tempered diner-owner converge on a busy Saturday morning
  2. Parents order what the owner-operator considers too large a meal for the toddler in question
  3. Meal takes a while to prepare, and eventually the child starts to cry. Presumably out of hunger, but I’m betting on not enough coffee after a long night of heavy drinking
  4. Hung-over baby cries for quite a while
  5. Diner-owner gets upset. She loudly insinuates to the parents they should leave. They don’t
  6. Diner-owner slams her hands on the family’s table and yells at the kid to shut up
  7. Social media war ensues

Now, let me make this clear: I do not have children, I don’t want any, and I don’t particularly like them. However, I can see both sides of this issue. The $10 question is, should we ever yell at a child, especially one that does not belong to us?

I usually get pret-ty annoyed when there is a noisy tiny human anywhere near me, but, my violent fantasies revolve around maiming the parent(s), for breeding in the first place, and then raising unbearable creatures. When I go out, I expect to enjoy myself and relax while I stuff my body full of food and beer, and talk about serious adult business (sex)… and I’m sorry, but if I wanted to be inconvenienced by irreverent, poorly educated creatures, I’d make my own mini humans, thank you very much.

But… but… but… Perhaps this was not the best of calls. I have heard tales of sheer despair from several new parents, about moments when they were close to suicide or infanticide (no joke), due to a screaming child they just could not console. The stares from the people around them (on a plane, in a restaurant, at the grocery store), the not-so-discreet mean comments, the angry complaints. Frankly, these are disheartening stories. Goddess knows I couldn’t bear the feelings of helplessness and guilt from not knowing how to fix something that appears so simple: “just smack the kid and he’ll shut right up” “can’t you teach that 18 month old some manners?”

image credit: The Oatmeal

image credit: The Oatmeal

So when I find myself about to karate chop what I believe to be a poor piss example of a child rearer, I remind myself of the stories of near madness I’ve been told time and time again, by trusted and sensible people. Then I take a deep breath, order a double bloody mary, and carry on… content with knowing that I can walk away from the sticky little poop heads, and that at night I’ll sleep soundly and un-bothered, while the poor bastard parents are stuck with that minion, forever.