Originally posted on DANCEFEVER5000:
The lack of ladies behind decks and on dance floors has really been bothering me for a while; not just the dearth of women in the EDM community but music in general and indeed, arts culture as a whole. Females are globally underrepresented in the arts from San Diego to Singapore, and I wanted to figure out why.
People told me it was too large of an issue to tackle or have any effect on; sure, I might be able to organize a local women’s DJ night or help promote various female producers, but this giant problem encompassed all music and all arts, and there would be no solution or answer. It was too big.
I did not want a quick fix, either, like an all-female DJ night where the chicks come out spinning beats in bras; those kinds of nights draw more males than females anyway. And I didn’t…
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This fellow Mage has some insightful thoughts about the role of women and magic.
Originally posted on Josephine McCarthy:
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…pays less. I’ve supported and believed in this particular credo for a long time now- especially when it comes to technology. No way am I going to pay a premium price for a first generation item that is essentially a late-beta lab-dump. I learned my lesson about that a long time ago.
I’d been reluctant to give up my perfectly good 26″ Panasonic CRT television because of many reasons: it worked, it did what I wanted it to do, I owned the thing, and hey- it worked. I hung onto it when the 36″ ‘flat’ CRTs came out. I hung onto it when the projection TVs came out. I hung onto it when the first pricey, clunky LCDs and plasmas came out. And I even hung onto it during the transition from OTA analog to digital broadcasting. Why not? I had cable, and it worked.
It still works, but it’s now parked in my front bedroom, awaiting its fate. I wrung every nickel and minute out of that TV, just like I did my now-vintage analog stereo receiver, newly revived after being repaired. But it was becoming increasingly evident that it was time to move on.
I always joked that my TV was so old that I watched either “No” or “Ova” because the ends of the picture were cut off by the HD signal. But the middle was still there, in all its slightly hazy lo-res 525 line progressive scan analog glory. I grew up with it, and although I do use hi-res computer monitors, for me, TV was different. It was supposed to be a slightly blurry window into a parallel universe. (more…)
I just noticed a new little icon on the corner of my Google Plus input field. It looks like a map pin. A hover tells me that my ‘browser does not support adding my location’. This does not bother me at all- in fact, it gratifies me. I am apparently one of the rare people who not only disdains location-based applications, but actively -even proactively -avoids them.
I don’t want people to know where I am, unless we’re specifically meeting. I will never socially ‘check in’ anywhere, and I am not interested in who might be nearby running the same app. I am not cruising, grinding, dating, lonely, curious, or otherwise interested in meeting strangers. Plus, there’s that creepy stalker vibe- who the heck would be interested in my whereabouts? I am not sure I would want to meet such a person unarmed. Instead, I will mind my own business, and- polite, normal interaction excepted- I expect you to mind yours, as well. I expect that this sounds almost heretical, coming from a self-professed geek. But let’s drill down a bit, shall we?
These location based social applications are products of an extraverted world full of social butterflies who live in high-population urban areas, particularly San Francisco. A perusal of the people who do the most shouting about these apps all tend to come from- you guessed it! San Francisco. I do not live in San Francisco, or on either coast. And while the vast majority of my peers carry either an iPhone or an Android phone of one sort or another, I never hear about these things being used. I have a large, diverse, very social user-base. They ask me about everything. About this, though- something that might be useful to some of them- not a word. Perhaps they prefer the old-school way of hob-nobbing.
Let’s switch gears for a moment, and consider the minority- geeky introverts. While we enjoy going out and socializing almost as much as anyone else, we have different goals when we do. Our energy and tolerance for the social stuff is limited, and we dread getting trapped by overbearing, noisy people. Quiet, sensitive introverted folks would probably prefer an app that warns us that there is a garrolous, long-winded man with a bone-crushing hand-shake directly ahead, or a perfume-drenched touchy-feely-huggy woman waiting to ambush us with 2,390,837 photos of her grandbabies, and gives us the route to avoid them. We could program our app to warn us about the proximity of gossips, time hoggers, religious fanatics, stumping politicians, MLM salespeople, large jumpy dogs, and narcissistic droners.
And let’s not stop with annoying, energy sapping people. I’d love an app that warns of noise levels too loud for normal conversation in restaurants or bars, or advises you that the place you are contemplating for supper is ‘family friendly’ with the accompanying noise hazards. I’d love to see an ‘annoying music’ warning for certain stores (*cough*Kohls*cough*) who play overweening alt-emo garbage at volumes that leave me wishing I’d brought my Zune. A really indespensible app would warn me that the parking lot at my local grocery store is chock-full of cars, as well as there being no carts available, thus warning me away from the harrowing experience of shopping in a crowd. Such an app would map out all the dogs in a neighborhood, so if you are house-hunting, you could find a place that you can go into your yard without being assaulted by barking neighbor-dogs.
Yeah, I know- total foolish fantasy. But being the minority in sensory, social and sonic sensitivities makes me keenly aware of the utter lack of truly considerate applications. Perhaps a fellow introverted geek who knows how to gin up such things could create an app for the rest of us. It could be called ‘Skoshi-Sosh”.
[warning: I am going to use terms that some who are sensitive might not approve.]
Three years ago, I was fat. Maybe not quite as fat as some, but I was shopping exclusively in the womens’ department. I was a ‘plus size’, and at my max, I was a size 20W. I was in denial about my size- and maybe someday someone will note that there is a reverse version of body dysmorphia- the fat person who believes they look normal. Hey, I still had curves- how could I be fat? I had friends and acquaintances who made me look svelte! I wasn’t going to be one of those headless stock photos that show up on every article about obesity. I could still sit on normal furniture, too, even wooden chairs with splayed legs, which are deadly dangerous for anyone over 250 pounds.
But I was deluding myself. I had sleep apnea. I had wheat-face and wheat-belly. I had no neck. I had migraines and those stacked love-handles on my sides. Normal-sized jackets made me feel like a stuffed sausage. My shoes were wide width. While I eschewed sodas and most junk food, I wasn’t averse to going to restaurants, or getting Chinese takeaway or going through drive throughs with no difficulties. I was also invisible to most men, as fat women tend to be. I did not mind this. But I was still fat. (more…)