TERF Wars and Trans-terrorism
11 months ago
Sarah Burton, the former assistant to Alexander McQueen, enjoyed a rapturous reception at Paris Fashion Week yesterday for her first collection as the new creative director of the Alexander McQueen label.
The British label's spring/summer 2011 collection struck a pagan [can I get a capital "P" please?] chord, with outfits recalling the 1970s film The Wicker Man. One dress combined a bodice made of ears of wheat with a skirt made of pheasant feathers. Another printed dress was adorned with a horse hair collar.
Burton's theme went even more prelapsarian [I do not think that word means what the author thinks it means] with a dress consisting of fake butterflies, which appeared to be taking off around the model's neckline. Another outfit saw golden plants sewn onto skin coloured material which appeared to grow on the model's body. The skirt of this dress was rounded at the hips a nod to McQueen and the model's hair was braided in the style of wicker.
Fashion editors were impressed by Burton's success in building a collection that was true to the spirit of McQueen, keeping the dramatic silhouettes for which he was famous, but introducing a more feminine, romantic mood.
[W]hile I remain a happy atheist, your (always interesting) blog has got me interested in the various Pagan markings of the seasons and other celebrations of nature. Can you (or your readers) recommend any kind of online calendar that would take me through the year and explain ceremonies as they approach? Is there anything like that on the nets? I don't want a book or treatise to read all at once, but something I can check in on. Thanks!
Agreed overall and to add in, here is what I wrote at Wild Hunt earlier today :
The other thing to keep in mind is that some reporters actually think they are doing us a favor by asking things like, "what about they way you are portrayed in films?" or "some people think you worship the devil, do you?" by giving us a chance to 'set the record straight'. These questions are not our friends, but they are also very hard to get around. So it isn't that we think, "hmm, in telling the press who Pagans are and what we believe, we will talk about silly movies and devils!" It is that we have just given them 5-10minutes (to an hour's worth) of what we think is great footage about what we believe and practice, broken into short sound bites even, and then we answer that little question in the middle of it all, just to get it out of the way and get back to our talking points, and they cut everything else.
I don't think I did too badly, all in all, and tried to use humor to diffuse the question, but what I would have done differently - were I more TV savvy - was to give them half an answer to the silly question, and made sure the sentence itself ended in another talking point. This is very hard to do, but next time, I will make a concerted attempt at it.
So, all in all, I *have* thought about what I want to say. I *do* have my elevator speech down. At the end of my interview, the reporter even said, "You are a public speaker, aren't you?" But he didn't use that stuff at all. This is why I've avoided the TV shows I have been asked to do in the past. I don't trust that the good stuff will get out there.
But perhaps it is time to try harder. I will likely take it on a case by case basis.
Try this: "Do you think the government should tell people who they can and can't marry?" Or "Do you think the freedom to marry who you want is a matter of equal rights under the law?" Or "Do you see marriage as a the realization of love in a lifetime commitment?" Or "Does it benefit society when two people who are in love want to make a public lifetime commitment to each other?"
Reframing is everyone's job.
In the Homeric Age it was usual to sit at table; and this custom, we are told, was kept up in historical times by the Cretans. Each guest had generally his own table, and an equal share of food was placed before each (hence δαὶς ἐΐση), except when a specially distinguished guest was honoured by getting a larger portion ( Il.vii. 321). What strikes us as peculiar in the Homeric dinners is their religious character. They partake more or less of the nature of a sacrifice, beginning with an offering of part of the meat to the gods, and both beginning and ending with a libation of wine; while the terms for slaughtering animals for a meal (ἱερεύειν, θύειν) and for the slaughtered animals (ἱερήϊα) are borrowed from the language of religious ceremony.
While the offerings were intended for Hekate, they also became a source of food for the poor, as we can see in a play by Aristophanes where Plutus says to Poverty:
"Ask Hecate whether it is better to be rich or starving; she will tell you that the rich send her a meal every month and that the poor make it disappear before it is even served."
This idea has [also] been used . . . in a manner both contemporary and true to tradition:
"I do a food offering for Hecate, which doesn't actually go to Hecate. It goes to the poor. Where I live, there's a food drive for local poor families every Friday, right at the entrance of a big grocery store. I buy some dry food items there, and offer them as 'Hecate's Supper.' The girl scouts always chant 'For Hekate' with me when I drop the food into their collection cart. "
Lakoff further argues that one of the reasons liberals have had difficulty since the 1980s is that they have not been as aware of their own guiding metaphors . . . . Lakoff insists that liberals must cease using terms like partial birth abortion and tax relief because [those terms] are manufactured specifically to allow the possibilities of only certain types of opinions. Tax relief for example, implies explicitly that taxes are an affliction, something [from which] someone would want "relief". To use the terms of another metaphoric worldview, Lakoff insists, is to unconsciously support it.