Let's See How Far We've Come...

I had a nice long weekend. Ok, backtrack -- I had a crappy long weekend. I've been sick to my stomach again, so much of my glorious time off was spent in bed. When I was up and about, I was either cleaning the house, or shopping for Bruno's birthday present.

I promise, long winded story will have some significance, ok? I'm even going to quote Anzaldua. So be patient.

On Friday eve, Bruno was feeling a bit antsy having been home with me the entire day. And he suggested we go to the movies. "Fine." I conceed. Whatever, I'm thinking to myself. I'm either about to vomit here, or about to vomit at the theater. What's the diff? He asks me what I want to see, and I tell him it doesn't matter. Whatever he wants. Next time, I'll choose!

Bruno, being a man, wants to see Transformers III. Under normal circumstances, I would have wildly protested. But, eh, fine. Let's go.

So off we go to the movies! $25 later we're in seated in the theater, making sure to choose two seats where you can get rid of that pesky arm rest in the middle. After ages of commercials for movies I'll never want to see, Transformers III begins. And guess what the lovely opening scene is?

A woman's butt. Yeah. In tiny panties. Her butt is in 3D. I laugh. This is going to be a long night. I vow to watch the remainder of the movie very carefully, through a feminist lense. This will keep me awake!

The movie was God-awful. I think it was written by a post-modernist with a brain cell deficiency, a post-modernist who, mind you, doubles as a misogynist and has no exposure to ethnic minorities other than what he sees in B rated movies. I almost vomit twice, thanks to the absolutely nausiating dialogue.

Anyway, the next day I'm left with this horrible taste in my mouth. I live in the world of books. I'm the first to admit it. Its a "la la land" of theory, stories, and poetics. And in my own little world, women are multi-dimensional in a very different sense than in Transformers III.

So I'm feeling a bit sad. In a post-feminist world, post-colonial world, we, as a people, have access to so much knowledge. We've got Julia Kristeva, Judith Butler, Gloria Anzaldua. And on the surface, there's equality for all. But all you have to do is step out of your world of ideas, into the everyday, and the ugliness is there. Women are sex objects, passive, meek, and useless for anything other than their bodies. And how about African Americans? Why, they're the meat and muscle behind the white boy's brains. At least, that's the world depicted in Transfermers III, and it made me sick.

Anyway, so today I'm reading up for my south Texas lit class. And I'm reading Anzaldua, and come across this passage from Borderlands:
 "...the white culture emphasizes that we are all equal, men and women. However, underneath all that there is this violence against women, all this negative stuff about women. So if you can see through that illusion, through those cracks, you can see to that reality."
So yeah, you tell it, Gloria. Remind us that we have so much farther to go. And really, all this poetry, art, theory, philosophy, literature, how far has it taken us? How many more people will watch these movies than read your books, or Bhaba's or Said's or Butler's or Foucault's? It's a sad reality, and welcome to it.


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