Let us take as a given that most (all?) awards for excellence in the entertainment industry are irredeemably political. The issuance of awards as well as the events during which such awards are given and announced are deeply affected by how the public will react—often from the standpoint of how such awards will affect ratings and thus, income. This also assumes that “political” and “income” are inseparably intwined.

Into this inject gender politics. The Academy Awards (the Oscars) is 82 this year (give or take the few years when no awards show was held or when multiples were held) and shows all the racism, homophobia, and sexism one would expect from an institution so old. The first African American man to win best actor did so in 1963, in the midst of all the social changes around race that the country was undergoing at the time. The first African American woman to win best actress did not do so until 2002. This may say as much about casting decisions as the white privilege inherent in the Academy.

A few stories have come to my attention in the last few days about sexism in the Academy which I believe are worth reading and mulling over the implications of:

Film and television are both a medium of social change (see: Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner? and, arguably, shows like Will and Grace) and a means of reinforcing the status quo (see: Every Disney Movie Ever Made). “Hollywood” as a monolith, as an industry, as a force of nature, is frequently decried as being horribly liberal and undermining the morals of Real America. But I have often found that it is much more of a conservative force than it or Real America would like to admit.

I know that Amanda is often ampersanded with Neil Gaiman (and vise versa) these days, but I let myself take a little nostalgic trip back to the days when AFP and Brian Viglione worked a little magic together:

Many thanks to my friend Erika for turning me on to this delectable madness, which I somehow missed in all my years of Dresden Doll/Amanda Fucking Palmer fanboy-hood. It’s never too late to make amends, right?

Here’s a couple of fun pics I took of Brian from when Jana and Catbonny and I went to see them play in LA a couple of years ago. Lovely Brian, we haven’t forgotten you!

I cam across this illustration of how sexism and class differences are linked in the Wikipedia article on honor killing:

There is a strong positive correlation between violence against women, and women’s social power and equality; and a baseline of development, associated with access to basic resources, health care, and human capital, such as literacy – as research by Richard G. Wilkinson shows. In a male dominated society, there is more inequality between men, and women lose out not just physically and economically, but crucially because men who feel subordinated will often try to regain a sense of their authority in turn by excessive subordination of those below them, ie women. (Interestingly, he says that in male-dominated societies, not only do women suffer more violence, and worse health: but so do men.)

Racial prejudice and inequality exacerbates the mix as well, as seen in the plight of Native American women, who are two and half times more likely to be raped than the average American woman.

It’s important to fight against sexism directly, but it’s also good to realize that fighting against any kind or discrimination and inequality is a fight for the rights of women and men, whites and blacks, straights and gays, poor and rich and everyone in between and all around.

In Germany, when a female turns 16, she ceases to be “Fräulein” (little woman) and becomes “Frau” (woman, or lady). I like this tradition and think that it speaks well of treating a child as a full member of the community, even before he or she actually becomes one. Similarly, the bar/bat mitzvah tradition recognizes adulthood. We don’t really have an equivalent in the United States and I don’t like that the counterpart to “guys” is “girls”. I can have a night out with the “guys” or a night out with the “girls”. The first sounds like there will be drinking and fun to be had. The second sounds like parlor games and children. ["Gals" is not an acceptable substitution.]

I bristle at being called a “girl” by people who don’t know me. To my parents and family can still be their “little girl” (and will be even when I’m 85), but in general, I don’t think a woman should be called a girl.

Especially when that woman is participating in one of the most difficult sports in the world at the highest possible level. I could care less about “Girls’ Ski Cross” but I’ll be watching avidly “Women’s Ski Cross”.

I’ll be spending this Super Bowl with my sisters, who are members of Feminists for Life (“because women deserve better”), who are “pro-life”, and who think that birth control is immoral and abortion should be illegal (with strong punishments for the doctor who performs the abortion and practically no punishment for the woman who chose it). I fully anticipate that there will be a moment of awed silence when the much-vaunted commercial airs. It will then be followed by rounds of, “Why don’t antilifers want people to see this?” To which I shall reply thusly:

“Tebow is a woman who was faced with a difficult medical situation and offered a set of choices by her doctors. She was given all the information she needed to make a choice about her medical welfare. She was told what the doctors recommended. Then, she made her choice. No one can help but respect that. The problem that ‘antilifers’ have with this ad is that it does not celebrate choice, it attempts to remove choice. This is not a celebration of one woman’s difficult choice, this is rhetoric that claims that this choice was the only one that any woman should be able to make. And that is not worthy of respect; that is worthy of derision. It is worthy of objecting to the ad. Anyone who says that their choice should be the choice for all people is, at best, insane. Choice equals choice, not predetermined choice.”

It is likely that my argument will fall upon deaf ears. But since this is my bully pulpit (and the home of my sister will not be), allow me to flesh this out a bit.

CBS is a content provider whose use of the airwaves is supposed to be at the whim of the people. Of course, this has long since become a fiction that we use to make us feel better about corporate control of information. It is fully within its rights to decide how it will decide what content it will broadcast. So I do not object to its right to allow Focus on the Family to push its agenda while disallowing MoveOn.org from pushing its agenda. It is also, however, the right of those disenfranchised by its decisions to delve deeper, publish information about those decisions, create satire [via Feministing], and boycott the company in an effort to change its ways.

CBS should be open about the fact that it worked closely with Focus on the Family to develop the commercial (via Feministing, which notes, “I wonder how many other of their advertisers get such personal attention.”) It should be open about its political agenda or—if it wants to maintain a façade of neutrality—allow political views with which it disagrees.

Meanwhile, there is evidence that the story extolled by the commercial (that Tebow refused her doctor’s recommendation to abort while in the Philippines as a missionary) may not be true since abortion was illegal in that country at the time and punishable by six years in prison. Take from that what you will.

Fortunately for us all, two male professional athletes have spoken up about the ongoing degradation of women by anti-choicers:

We’re working toward the day where every woman will be valued. Where every woman’s decision about her health and her family will be respected.
We celebrate families by supporting our mothers, by supporting our daughters, by trusting women.

Since football is one of the most misogynistic of our national sports [via Feministing] (which, I know, is like calling water one of the wettest liquids), I think that’s the sentiment that CBS should be promoting. I support Tebow’s decision. I just wish that she returned the favor.

Once upon a time, the last star faded cooly into the dark universal night. It took hundreds of billions of years to die, but no one remained to count the eons. Eventually even the electrons died.

This is not my story.

Once upon a time, a sentient race was born under a sky full of red and orange stars, and it matured and died without ever knowing that beyond its galactic pocket were a hundred billion other galaxies, carried away at redshifts faster than the speed of the light that would otherwise reach these beings to console them in their loneliness.

This is not my story.

Once upon a time, the last remnants of life–radiation-resistant spores and hyperthermophilic single-celled archaea–gave up their long evolutionary battle against the red sun that grew in their sky.

This is not my story.

Once upon a time, the human race nearly extinguished itself for the ninth time. There would be no tenth opportunity. The last whisper of the last woman was also the last breath of homo sapiens sapiens.

This is not my story.

Once upon a time, I was born and cried for my mother’s milk and suckled with all my tiny might, but nothing flowed into my dry mouth.

This is my story.

Once upon a time, I threw lye into the eyes of the man who raped and punched me daily, and I raged and screamed and spat all the way to the gallows.

This is my story.

Once upon a time, I told my friends to love each other and to treat each other well no matter what race or gender or class, and generations later people murdered and enslaved and cheated each other in my name.

This is my story.

Once upon a time, I tricked a general and his army and led them away from my village. When he cut me down in angry realization, I smiled at my cleverness and my bravery and the thought of my people fleeing to live and fight again.

This is my story.

Once upon a time, I lived out my days on the edge of starvation, harvesting my Lord’s rice and looking forward only to the numbness that the sour ale brought, and fucking my woman at night.

This is my story.

Once upon a time, I wrote stories of a war that another writer wrote down and sold across the sea as his own. He died from fame and cirrhosis, and I spent my life full of self-doubt, in poverty and obscurity.

This is my story.

Once upon a time, I stole from another woman’s retirement savings, and spent my last days knitting with friends under the warm Florida sun that she dreamed of.

This is my story.

Once upon a time, I enjoyed a long life filled with loved ones until my body betrayed me and mutant growths starved and pinched and twisted my internal organs, and I spent my last months thinking only of me, and my pain, cursing my existence and longing for death.

This is my story.

Once upon a time, I fell in love with him, but was afraid he would reject me, and married a man I did not love. I died not knowing that he loved me all along.

This is my story.

Once upon a time, I lived, and I loved you or I hated you, and I acted, and you responded, and this was my universe, my earth, my history and my future.

These are my stories.

I have a several areas of my life that I’m looking hard at and reexamining right now. If this blogging experiment proves helpful, maybe I’ll follow up with a couple more personal explorations. I know I’m going to feel a little exposed, but here goes:

During my last few years in Mormonism, I self-identified as a feminist, and worked hard to highlight sexism. But during the past couple of years I’ve come to realize that no matter how hard I try:

1. I’m a man, in a society in which men are the privileged gender.
2. I’m a poor feminist. I feel I do as much to perpetuate sexism as I do to fight it. As a result, I feel like a hypocrite, which makes it difficult to advocate with sincerity and passion.
3. I’m not the best or most appropriate spokesperson for women’s issues
4. I’m afraid of critically exploring various expressions of feminism (e.g., “that’s very much a second-wave approach, embedded in a upper-middle class Euro-centric perspective, and ignores many of the needs of minority women and women in developing nations,” etc.)

The practical impact of this combined awareness is that I’ve become much quieter. I still consider myself a feminist, but I’ve shifted my advocacy more towards encouraging understanding and acceptance of a range of sexual orientations and gender identities and expressions. I’m not entirely happy with this shift away from fighting sexism (though I don’t regret my recent emphasis on gay rights).

Granted, we have to be selective about our causes (or perhaps they pick us); no one has the time to advocate, with equal passion, for the victims of or raise awareness of:

AIDS : poverty in Haiti or Bhutan or Sierra Leone : the persecution of gays in Uganda : education of Afghani women : acid attacks in Bangladesh : legalization of gay marriage in US states : sex trafficking in Cambodia : suppression of human rights in Burma : Native American rights in the US : child labor : climate change : illiteracy in US : crack babies : legalization of abortion in Central America : malaria : DPT immunizations : drug-resistant TB : animals in cosmetic testing : universal health care : overfishing in the Atlantic : creationist agenda in Texan public education : cancer : destruction of rain forests : the mistreatment of Koreans born in Japan : the suicide rate of closet gays among LDS men : nuclear test ban treaty : Child’s Play (a fave gamer’s charity) : immigration reform : the murder of women in Ciudad Juarez : etc.

But I feel like a part of me is giving up, throwing in the towel a bit on the feminist cause. I feel more and more that my place is to cheer my feminist female friends from the sidelines, and to do my best to root sexism out of myself, and in my immediate life experience. I want to make it clear that I’m not talking about abandoning my feminist values or my fight against sexism–this is about setting priorities in vocal advocacy.

I’m not sure what kind of response I expect to this post. I guess I’m seeking for a reality check. Maybe I need encouragement. I’m worried as I write that this post itself will be taken as whining rooted in my male privilege. Or maybe I need confirmation that, yes, I’m not a good fit for this cause, and it’s time for me to move on. I hope that you’ll take into account that this is something I’m sincerely wrestling with, and asking for help with. Thanks for listening.

The First Amendment of the Constitution of the United States of America reads (in pertinent part):

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof.

This has, historically, been interpreted to include other official acts by the government. Here, “Congress” is read (due to the context of the other Amendments, which I will not get into here) to mean “the government, including both the federal government and the State governments (with ‘State government’ including all smaller governments including municipal, county, &c.)”. This understanding the word “Congress” has been a long time in the making. The other words in this clause (often called “the Establishment Clause”) seem straightforward: “no law”, “establishment”, and “religion”.

Unfortunately, there is now a movement to redefine the most important word of the Establishment Clause in a much narrower fashion.

Already, there are religionists who claim that “freedom of religion is not freedom from religion” and work toward the end of establishing their own religion (often some form of Christianity). What this means is often that public prayer should be allowed (since all religions pray) and that missionary work has a place in the classroom (since students are free to be a different religion but not free to be atheists).

Now, this is proving insufficient for some groups.

[T]he word “religion” has a meaning today that was not the
meaning the Founders […] the word “religion” in the Religion Clauses means monotheism.

Whaaaaa? Well, that wipes out Catholicism (frequently touted by Protestants to be a tritheistic or even goddess-worshipping faith), Buddhism (which is an non-theistic faith), all forms of polytheism, pantheism, bitheism and, yes, atheism. Jewish believers could make the case that Christianity is polytheistic (if Jesus is God, that makes two!). Islamic believers could make the case that they are the only true monotheistic faith (their belief requires subscription to the statement “There is only one God: God.”). I wonder if pagans who only worship one god (lets say…Loki, since I see His hand in all this) could make the case that they were true monotheists. Does this also exclude all goddess worshipers (since “theology” is often distinguished, in goddess circles, from “thealogy”)? What about deists? Are they the “right” kind of monotheists? Are Mormons?

It is one thing to allow freedom of conscience to all. It is another to trust atheists to testify at trial or hold office.

This extremely narrow definition of “religion” has enormous and far-reaching impacts outside of the case this amicus brief was filed in. (A matter brought by a pagan chaplain who was rejected from a position as a chaplain at a California jail because he was not a chaplain in one of the jail’s five officially-recognized faiths.) The amicus brief is worth the read (it’s not filled with legalese) for anyone who (a) is not a monotheist, (b) is concerned with freedom of religion in this country, or (c) is concerned with equality in this country. Religionists (and most often, they are Christian religionists) are out to take your rights away. And “you” is everyone who is not the exact right kind of Christian in the minds of these religionists.

[Hat tip to the Wild Hunt Blog, a wonderful pagan news source. I've often noted that I'm maybe half atheist and half pagan—the Wild Hunt is one of the best sources for information on free exercise as it pertains to non-Christians. Jason at Wild Hunt has been tracking this story with Is The First Amendment for Monotheists Only? and A Few Updates and Announcements.]

Over the past couple of years, I’ve gradually withdrawn from my engagement in the Mormon blogging world (affectionately referred to as the ‘Bloggernacle’), but I’m going to take one last little dive back into it. Apparently my excommunication experience has been nominated in the write-in category for the Niblet awards, and it’s doing all right: it’s 4th out of 20 entries, and the top three places are counted. I like the idea that we could draw attention to a series of posts about excommunication that would stand alongside all the other Mormon-topical posts, blogs, and bloggers that will be highlighted by these awards. So, if you have a moment to spare, please consider scrolling down to the bottom of the post, and voting for “Most heartbreaking-wrenching-joyous-all-mixed-into-one: John Remy’s excommunication” in the Write-In category. And if you have one more moment, please spread (retweet) the word.

Also, my fellow ex-Mo atheist blogger Chanson is up for “Best Contribution to Interfaith Dialogue”, in the next category up. She’s been one my inspirations over the years, and I definitely think she’s worth supporting as well. Actually, now that I’m reviewing the list, there are a number of unorthodox Mormon bloggers worth supporting (including a serious skeptic or two), including Bored in Vernal, Kaimi, Kiskilili, ECS, Jessawhy, CrazyWomanCreek, Hawkgrrl and others I’m sure I’m missing. I hope I’m not damning them with my heartfelt praise.

And I have a soft spot in my heart for the feminist blogs, Zelophehad’s Daughters and The Exponent (co-founded by Jana), but I’m forever grateful to Feminist Mormon Housewives for taking me in, and letting me guest blog there.

Finally, there are some intriguing titles in there: “We Thank Thee O God for a Profit”, “My God is Clean-Shaven”, and “Joseph Smith’s Cane”, but I think I’ll resist the temptation to read them. Other horizons call. I just wanted to take one last, long glance over my shoulder.

No, wait, I didn’t.

Also? I didn’t forget that, because of his male privilege, he’s also probably sexist. Anyone who thinks we’re “post-racial” is (a) not living in the real world and (b) white.