Archive for 2005
September 7th, 2005
If you’re inexplicably reluctant to send hurricane relief donations to Pat Robertson’s “Operation Blesssing,” as FEMA has suggested, or bushclintonkatrinafund.org or even the Red Cross (like my mom, who’s still mad at them for planning to use some of the money they collected after 9/11 for other purposes), check out the Sparkplug Foundation’s
site. It lists grassroots community organizations that would probably make better use of your money, though of course I can’t guarantee that. Thanks to Susie Day for letting me know about this.
September 5th, 2005
That’s what rapper Kanye West said on the NBC hurricane benefit concert Friday night. This was a departure from the approved script, and his comments were axed from the west coast broadcast, but to anyone who wasn’t stranded on a desert island last week, or similarly insulated from reality, like, say, by being the homeland security secretary or the Director of FEMA, West was only stating the obvious.
It was interesting to watch the national conversation evolve during the week. First no one mentioned the fact that the people abandoned in New Orleans were overwhelmingly African-American. Then gradually there was an acknowledgment that class was a factor—people were stranded because they had no cars or other resources to get out of town. Then by the end of the week, race started being mentioned openly in the mainstream media. I haven’t been able to bring myself to monitor Fox News, but Frank Rich reports that even Bill O’Reilly was forced to acknowledge the truth by Thursday night.
Unfortunately, we can’t blame this horrific social collapse solely on George Bush. We live in a deeply racist society, and openly acknowledging that fact is the first step toward changing it. I know we all have quantum-particle-sized attention spans these days, but I don’t think the Republicans will manage to sweep the shameful Katrina fallout under the rug anytime soon. Not even with Bush’s ridiculous distraction ploy of nominating of John Roberts for chief justice.
September 5th, 2005
…that followed my Holy Shit post.
September 5th, 2005
Sorry about that. I don’t know what’s going on.
September 1st, 2005
Well, don’t I feel presidential, rhapsodizing about my Town Car ride while the entire Gulf Coast was sinking into unimaginable chaos?
Could something constructive possibly come of this not-so-natural disaster? A tidal wave of get-the-fucking-national-guard-home-now and fucking-stop-global-warming-while-you’re-at-it sentiment washing the Bushcons out to sea without a paddle?
August 31st, 2005
I’ve been working for the past six years on a graphic memoir about my father. Houghton Mifflin is publishing it in the spring, and they flew me to NYC yesterday for a meeting. I’ve quite literally been sitting in my basement working on this project since 1999, except for one day a week when I go out for necessities like groceries and therapy. So turbopropping to Manhattan was a change of pace, to say the least.
The assistant director of publicity, Whitney, and her assistant, Michael, took me to lunch at the Union Square Café. Here they are in front of the restaurant.
I had to be told that this was a very trendy destination. My lunch was lovely (see photo), but I was much more impressed by the fact that Whitney turns out to be the daughter of Clyde Peeling, of the eponymous Clyde Peeling’s Reptiland–a major local attraction in central Pennsylvania, where I grew up.
After dining, we had a meeting with the Marketing and Publicity directors. One guy attended from the Boston office via video conference. Unnervingly futuristic, but in an oddly comforting glitch, he was all out of focus. After the meeting I was whisked off in a Town Car to the photographer’s studio. Until now, I have never understood Americans’ automotive fetishism. But I could live in that leather-upholstered thing. If it weren’t a root cause of terrorism. Here I am with Greg, the photographer, on Bleecker Street.
Spent a grueling 4 hours posing for my book jacket photo, then another Town Car back to LaGuardia. It was quite a day. Now I’m in my basement again, with 34 pages of the memoir left to ink in soothing, rustic solitude.
August 16th, 2005
This is Cathy writing, not Alison, despite what the author tag says.
Julie from Portland, OR, kindly emailed us to let us know that lefty blogs like Pandagon have been discussing the Mo Movie Measure a film-going concept that originated in an early DTWOF strip, circa 1985. We were excited to hear that someone still remembers this 20-year-old chestnut.
But alas, the principle is misnamed. It appears in “The Rule,” a strip found on page 22 of the original DTWOF collection. Mo actually doesn’t appear in DTWOF until two years later. Her first strip can be found half-way through More DTWOF. Alison would also like to add that she can’t claim credit for the actual “rule.” She stole it from a friend, Liz Wallace, whose name is on the marquee in the comic strip, reprinted below.
July 19th, 2005
The folks at the National Center for Lesbian Rights sent us a copy of the 2004 decision denying Dykes on Bikes’ motion for reconsideration. Apparently, the US Patent and Trademark office has concluded that the word dyke is “considered vulgar, offensive and/or disparaging” and is therefore unacceptable as part of a trademark. For proof, they attached some links to online dictionaries, and to a list of Spanish to English slang that includes the word “dyke.” The list also tells you how to say lots of other useful things in Spanish, such as “cunt,” “asslicker” and “69.” So bizarre that this is part of a government document!
But did anybody think to check Google? Type in the word dyke and this is what you get. The first thing on there is a site called Classic Dykes, “a cybernetwork for lesbians in midlife and beyond.” The other links relating to lesbians on the first page are all gay sites, like one for the Dynamo Dykes volleyball team in the UK. And the sponsor ads that pop up are all personals ads for people seeking “womyn” like them. Presumably, womyn who call themselves dykes.
Google is a much more credible arbiter than some wackjob list of translations.
July 19th, 2005
Got an email recently from someone at gURL.com pointing out a mini-review of DTWOF on the site. According to their bio page, “gURL is a different approach to being a teenage girl,” geared toward girls 13 and up. Which means that you can find a positive review of DTWOF and other comics, like Ariel Shrag’s Potential, and you can find fast facts about abortion, abstinence, acne, dry humping, orgasms, etc. You can even get tips on hair removal methods. Yep, this is the newly plucked face of feminism.
Here’s what they have to say about DTWOF: “Alison Bechdel creates a tiny perfect world in her drawings, jam-packed with visual jokes and characters who grow up over time. When we say it’s like watching TV, we mean that in the best possible way.”
Go figure.
July 15th, 2005
The San Francisco Dykes on Bikes organization has been trying to register their name with the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office, and recently got their second rejection. The delicate sensibilities of these patent pinheads are offended by the word “dyke,” despite the best efforts of the National Center for Lesbian Rights to explain it to them. The NCLR got a bunch of activists, scholars, and linguists, including yours truly, (I’m not sure which of those three categories I fall under, though I have been told I’m good with my tongue) to submit declarations outlining the evolution and significance of the word “dyke,” but to no avail.
For what it’s worth, “Queer Eye for the Straight Guy” had no problem registering their name. Here’s a SF Chronicle article explaining the whole irksome affair in more detail.
