As a computer techie myself, pushed out the industry via outsourcing and the corporate push towards Microsoft, now apple, it was disgusting watching all the Sharks going for the small number of prizes available in 1999. I am aware of how the changes have created too much of a good thing.

I get dismayed when I'm eating in restaurants and watch parents ignore their children while they pour over their phones or tablets, oblivious to the needs of their lonely kids. I hate when I have to listen other people's conversations while they talk on their cell phone as I am standing in line at the supermarket. I don't like it when I log into facebook only to discover that a friend has posted photos taken of me unknowingly. And hadn't asked if they can use that photo.
Conclusion, people are mean and greedy. I know many are not. But when watching blatant advertising which announces people's public humiliation, leads me to comprehend that it's being encouraged! Just as I hate that war creates lots of money for those building war machines for hire, elsewhere. Not only that, war is glorified. Made into an exciting goal. And then crying about it when it happens close to home.

Well, it shows that all the white guys making money care little for the rest.

But it is sunny today and I'm in a good frame of mind. And laying it out will be a challenge. Telling the truth is not welcomed.
My inability to complete my commitment to write a daily journal is due to stupid stuff, really. I've dipped into a psychic oblivion by doing mindless housekeeping on my computer which is about to crash. For some, watching T.V. is an escape. For me, computer tech discoveries are mine.

It is a numbing experience playing with Microsoft, then with Dropbox, then moving to Wordpress, reading Narrative Magazine, dreaming that one day I will write like that. But after a journey onto Facebook I knew I'd found madness avoiding what I promised.

That is when I awoke. However, by rewriting my short story pieces on Dropbox, those pieces that meant a lot when first produced, after a second look or a third, I become frightened or revolted. Oh, oh the sirens are going off in my head screaming the long ago refrain that I don't know what I am doing.

Except it is a sure fire way to get me started. By reading something inspiring, it kicks me in the butt to do it myself. When I hear myself whine, I can't. I recall the little engine that could from my childhood, which When chanted, I think I can, I think I can. I CAN!

I'm delving into childhood memories now. Lovely, it keeps me seated in the chair.

Alone I sit, writing for myself, one finger dancing as fast as it can, ready to jump away, like a jack in the box. Reminds me that now most children these days don't know that a jack in the box was once a child's toy that when pressed, would fly out of the box, and surprise us with its cackle voice, as it emitted a strange laugh. Once we were able to stuff it back inside its box, we'd press it down again, enchanted by the thrill of its leap into the air, and it's laughter. Years later, jack in the box became a hamburger joint with a clown creature as it's logo.

Now I think I can come back to that one story I like and approach it with a fresh appeal.
After reading Rebecca Solnit, Men Explain things to Me.

I am inspired. Thrilled. At the depth of thinking of this woman. Each essay stands alone. She is clarity itself. Without apologies. Says stuff about rape and violence against women as though she knows it is true.

We, in our generation, had to prove it. Again. And again. We had to have irrefutable research, had to become academics with multiple PhD's, had to PROVE to the world, especially the male bastion of cultural reality, that in fact women were relegated into invisibility not because we were dumb or "on the rag", but because men needed to keep us in our place. And furthermore, women were afraid to go out on the streets. They were afraid that if they were out in the world, mingling in affairs of men, without a male (husband, brother, father) at one's side, they might be mistaken for either a whore, or a needy, desperate woman, looking for a man to marry.

Our generation watched our mothers be "very good women", "good wives", "good mothers", as they "died" trying. We watched as they were given little credit. In fact, as Solnit mentions, they were invisible. And especially if they were married. And we fought to be visible. To have a voice. And many of us were heard.

We learned that the role of wife, or mother, the little boxes that the role put around us, were confining. And watching our mothers suffer at the hands of husbands, fathers, brothers and uncles , in other words: patriarchy.

In the meantime, my hypothesis is that as long as there is competition, men will need to prove they are on top, or right. And if we didn't think patriarchy was frightened by feminism, we didn't have to wait long to see the results. Look at how frightened church goers have needed to eradicate the progress of the women's movement. From birth control discussions, to discussion of abortion or sexuality information: all of it has disappeared from the discussion. I notice every day what has been eradicated. In fact the book "Our Bodies Ourselves" is now a banned book.

Women, now, in their 20's are having babies, lots of them. Word on the cultural street, is that women should stay at home. But the economy has fallen into a serious depression, educational opportunities have evaporated, women are once again remaining in marriages or situations where they are afraid to leave.

Ah, here we are. One step forward, 6 steps back. Only this time, everything that has changed has occurred since the fall of the twin towers of Sept 2001.

I'm so glad that I can write all this. And I must shout out to the 50th Anniversary of the Free Speech Movement day of infamy: Oct 2, 1964. I am exercising my free speech efforts while I can.

Nyla

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nyla_musings

March 2015

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