One Dimension?

A lot is said about feminism, none of which I will touch on in the following paragraphs.  However, I will refer to a recent incident that left me somewhat confused about the whole thing.  I was attending a small get-together at a friend’s house, where we were engaged in drinking and light discussion.  Nothing out of the ordinary, the kind of civilised affair my peers and I are well used to.  The hostess was providing the entertainment for the evening in the form of their iPod and 2 Watt speakers.  Things were progressing splendiferously until a turgid guitar riff began to emanate through the air, which I now know to be One Direction’s “What Makes You Beautiful”.  While my hatred of such things lost it’s vehemence a long time ago, I was quite surprised by what came next.  A room full of University educated ladies degenerated into a gaggle of giggling schoolgirls.  There was not a shred of irony, hipsterism, post-whateverism or any such excuses to be detected here - just a genuine, unstoppable wave of tangible desire which presumably connected directly between the speakers and said ladies’ erogenous zones.  Upon assessing the situation I could only deduce that One Direction, or whoever their puppetmaster is, is a certified Master of Misogyny.  Might sound crazy, so I shall demonstrate this by way of a few comparisons.

James Brown – It’s A Man’s World

What we have here is a potent example of misogyny in popular music.  Of course these were different times, but luckily this gives us some easy pickings.  We start with these lines:

“This is a man's world
This is a man's world
But it wouldn't be nothing
Nothing without a woman or a girl”

Straight away we have established that we live in a world where a Y chromosome is of vital importance.  Brown continues to list the accomplishments of men, such as:

“You see man made the car,
to take us over the road.
Man made the train,
to carry the heavy load.
Man made the electric light,
to take as out of the dark.
Man made the boat for the water,
like Noah made the ark”

Now many of these activities require some degree of heavy lifting, so you could possibly mistake the chauvinism for chivalry.  No such chance, as in the second verse Brown proceeds to also tear motherhood away from woman.

“Man thinks about the little bit of baby girls,
and the baby boys
Man makes them happy,
’cause man made them toys”

At this point it seems as though there’s no going back.  The song is undeniably misogynistic and I doubt Mr Brown had much time for political correctness.  One saving grace can be found in the delivery of the song and in particular the line.

“But it wouldn't be nothing, nothing without a woman or a girl”

There’s a real sincerity to this line which allows it to render everything that has gone before meaningless, which is a literate and artistic success.  In conclusion, the track deals misogyny in spades but the bigger picture is painted in such a way that it goes at least some way toward justification.
 

The White Stripes – You’ve Got Her In Your Pocket

I’ve decided to include this track from The White Stripes’ 2003 classic Elephant in view of it’s much more real misogyny than that associated with Hip Hop bitch-fuckery and also due to the fact that Jack White has been singled out in certain sections of the media for his misogynistic lyrics.  Take the first refrain as an example:

“You've got her in your pocket,
and there's no way out now.
Put it in the safe and lock it,
'cause it's at home sweet home”

Here we have a great example of assumed male supremacy.  Many a man has at one time or another had such thoughts run through their mind, many more foolish men have articulated this to their significant others and incurred the fiery wrath of woman as a result.  Each passing chorus has a slight change in the first line, before the final admission of the song’s autobiographical nature (“Cause I want, to keep you in my pocket”).  The sneaky scoundrel.

The song has a few other choice lines which show the writer’s attitude to women, such as

“Nobody ever told you that it was the wrong way
To trick a woman, make her feel she did it her way”

and

“The smile on your face made her think she had the right one
Then she thought she was sure
By the way you two could have fun
But now she might leave
Like she's threatened before
Grab hold of her fast
Before her feet leave the floor
And she's out the door”

However, although this work certainly puts the writer’s feminist credentials under scrutiny, I don’t feel that it’s at all that misogynistic a song.  In the context of the track and the fragility of the performance, it’s more of a reflection on the writer’s failings as a man.  Much like a good country song.  Therefore it’s tame when compared to our next example.

One Direction – What Makes You Beautiful

So here we have it.  Before I start, I must point out the obvious and say that neither musical content nor performance are in need of much analysis in this particular case.  One Dimension would be a suitable description - both are intentionally bland enough to allow the main message of the track to shine through.  The message being that you don’t know you’re beautiful.  Let us take a look at the opening verse:

“You're insecure,

Don't know what for,

You're turning heads when you walk through the door,

Don't need make-up,

To cover up,

Being the way that you are is enough

Everyone else in the room can see it,

Everyone else but you.”

At first glance this could seem empowering to women.  None of it.  If I tried this on with a girl I would expect to be laughed out of the room or to receive a slap in the face, and if I neither of these things happened I might lose a bit of respect for the girl in question.  This type of assumptive chatter is chauvinism in the form of a pithy chat up line.  I don’t disagree with the sentiment.  I haven’t seen this girl but I’m sure it’s probably true.  My point is that this song is preying on the insecurities of girls (and apparently, grown women).  The first line alone is Derren Brown grade psychorape; Now that your pitiful girlish self esteem has been torn to shreds, each subsequent compliment will build you up more and more until the earth-shattering climax –

“Baby you light up my world like nobody else,

The way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed,

But when you smile at the ground it ain't hard to tell,

You don't know, Oh oh,

You don't know you're beautiful,

If only you saw what I can see,

You'll understand why I want you so desperately,

Right now I'm looking at you and I can't believe,

You don't know, Oh oh,

You don't know you're beautiful, Oh oh,

That's what makes you beautiful”

There it is, in all it’s glory.  The lads repeat several lines that “You don’t know…”.  Again, there’s a lot of subliminal negativity going on here.  The importance of this cannot be underestimated.  Without it, the song would be an ode to a beautiful girl.  With it, the song becomes an exploitative masterpiece.  I particularly like the “when you smile at the ground” bit.  It’s predatory.  It’s not even trying to hide it.  I could go on, however there’s no point as there’s no let up, it’s just a lot more of the same.

Conclusion

I don’t think that there’s too much to say here that hasn’t already been said.  I chose the first two tracks as both have been described as misogynist by others in the past.  It’s clear from my findings that One Direction have brought things to a new level here.  It’s not just misogyny, it’s Post-Misogyny, Keyser Soze style.  Women of all ages are falling for it.  Of course, it’s always possible that women couldn’t care less about that and either want to marry or mother these boys.  Just thought I’d leave you with a little misogyny of my own there!

Your Friend on Benefits

So I have recently chomped down on the big one and decided to quit my job.  For the first time in my life I’ve joined the ranks of the barely living and become state dependant, at least until I can find a new way of making a living.  After having spent the last four years in quiet trepidation of a lifetime spent as some kind of shit-buffer between corporation and customer, you’ll undoubtedly understand my tremendous relief with this situation.  It’s not ideal, but it’s hard to put across exactly how badly my previous working arrangements affected me.  Sure, there are many who can tolerate, dare I say even enjoy such a working environment.  However, for the unnecessarily Narcissistic among us it’s a daily dose of having your pants pulled down and your backside slapped for all the world to see.  All of which would, I suppose, be on the borderline of acceptability if the job simply required you to be turn up, perform menial tasks and clock off.  No.  This modern incarnation of the working class factory job demands that you engage mentally, that you must endeavour to improve yourself as an employee, that you must demonstrate the ability to work as part of a team (whilst spending all day dealing with the mundanity and inanity of your customers that your colleagues are in no way party to), that you must constantly exceed what you have previously achieved, as if there was the slightest possibility that you might be able to proceed upwards within the company (there isn’t).  This way you get to spend all day sitting at your desk yet go home mentally spent, with no resources left to apply to any activity which might afford some level of intellectual fulfilment.  A lot of people remedy this by visiting the Gym.  Not a fucking chance. 

In light of all the above, I came to the conclusion that if I didn’t quit now, I would spend the rest of my life killing myself slowly and excruciatingly.  So I had the pleasure of submitting my resignation in writing, which added a welcome poignancy to the event.  The management didn’t share in the emotion of this momentous occasion – although I did feel that they were happy to see the back of me, which I suppose is proof of their humanity if nothing else.  Whilst exiting the building into the threshold of a new life, a strange feeling came upon me.  I recognised it as a mixture of hope and excitement, having once experienced these emotions at the age of 17 before the cold realities of adulthood had crushed my spirit.  There was also a dash of fear in there, which was to be expected, however the prevalence of positivity rendered it toothless.  So I strode forward, jettisoning the shackles of barrel-bottom employment as I went.

Now, as with most (if not all) of my epiphanies, this one will surely prove to be fleeting.  I severely doubt that I will ever regret the decision (another rarity for me), alas before long I’m sure that I will desperately accept any work that comes along.  Which will inevitably be in the field of answering telephones and being presided over by a pyramid of Little Hitlers.  Until that day I shall continue to relish the freedom that I have been afforded, try to find a more permanent alleviation of my anonymity, if only for a brief period.  Because, as a great man once said:

“Slavery was never abolished, it was only extended to include all the colours”

That man was not me.  If you want to know, look it up. 

I Swear to God...

Sitting in the bath last night, whilst vigorously scrubbing off the weekend's Catholic guilt, I came to wonder about the power of a spoken (or indeed, written) oath.  What first brought this to mind was the practice of swearing upon an individual's life, be it your father/mother/sister/brother and so on.  I thought to myself that if put in such a position, as I most likely have in the past, I would certainly lie on this oath to conceal the truth.  Not because I'd ever wish any such harm on a loved one, but simply because like many rational modern adults I do not believe in Voodoo.  I mean, how could something as arbitrary as the (however moronic) verbalisations spewing from my gobshite mouth have any physical effect on another living being?  The very fact that I've been presented with such a troglodytic challenge would in fact make me more likely to want to lie to simply prove a point, if not to the accuser who would remain eternally ignorant of my mortal sin, but to myself, so that I could have a chuckle about how much more enlightened I am at a later date.

Having exhausted this simple gripe my mind naturally wandered to the old enemy, Organised Religion™.  For fear of going too far into Dawkins territory, I'll concede that enough has said about the dogmatic bullshit used by these animals over the past few millennia.  The one area that did come to mind was the system of swearing by oath in a courtroom.  I'm not 100% up to date on the current procedures in all (or indeed any) jurisdictions, however I had thought of the custom of swearing on a Bible, or any other relevant religious text before giving evidence.  Now, first of all for those who lack religious conviction this is an irrelevant practice in general.  Those aware of the wonders of Pastafarianism (which I capitalise with the utmost sincerity) will be fully aware of this.  Surely the fact that you're in some serious shit should give a general implication that you're going to have to tell the truth?  If you can't grasp that concept then surely society would benefit greatly from your removal.  Secondly, I'd imagine that in any major religion, using the sacred text as leverage in a dispute between two individuals would be morally questionable in some way, especially when the suited vultures representing either party are factored in.  In either case, I just found it ludicrous.  A quick online check of a randomly selected jurisdiction brought the following quote:

"If an oath has been properly administered and taken, the fact that the person to whom the oath was administered had no religious beliefs at that time does not affect the validity of the oath."

- Dept. of Justice, Victoria Australia

Yes it does.  It renders it wholly invalid in the realms of common sense.  Fair enough, because someone in a relevant legal position has said so and presumably created a precedent at one time, it can be held as law.  However it is antiquated, pointless, and most likely just another line that can be used to "subjugate the meek", in the words of reggae/punk rocker and sex-Olympian Sting.  Just another example of the use of the Boogey-Man to make Joe Bloggs shit his pants and squeal.  I know I'm glossing over the obvious fact that in a court of law this is a minor facet of a hugely confusing labyrinth of a yes/no game, however I felt that the issue was more with the act of making a person swear to tell the truth.  It makes no difference to those with the sense to know that a little white lie will have no detrimental effect on their physical health, it's simply preying on the fears of those who believe in Flying Spaghetti Monsters and their ilk.

In conclusion, I'd simply like to point out that this is the conjecture of a man bathed in cynicism and self-loathing, in the immediate aftermath of a particularly punishing weekend.  In regard to any Atheistic subtext detected in the preceding paragraphs, I'd like to point out that I am not a fan of religious zeal in any form, regardless of how bodaciously righteous it may be, righteously bodacious even.  To paraphrase a line from my own personal spiritual reference, The Simpsons (again, capitalisation intentional), I guess one person can change the world, but most of the time they probably shouldn't.  I'm only speaking out because Whitey's keeping me down.

Be excellent to each other.