||[Nov. 21st, 2005|07:56 pm]
For the first time, I actually got into all the classes I pre-registered for. Sweet.
And I'm getting sick again, why and how? Hopefully I can get over it over the break.
I'm re-reading parts of Camille Paglia's Sex, Art, and American Culture, for some reason. She's terrible, really. I've struggled with her a lot. Well--I respect her injecting dissent into feminist discourse, or her wanting to inject intelligent dissent into feminist discourse. But what she really does is just trash other people's intellect and, basically, complain in a readable style while purporting to say something about where art and sexuality need to go. Calling someone exclusive, pretentious, nerdy (calling a philosopher, like Foucault, nerdy and heady is a pretty funny thing to do) is quite easy and she does it quite frequently. She's guilty of name-dropping and arrogance just as much as any of the academics she frequently trashes. And just for fun--"Everyone of my generation who preached free love is responsible for AIDS." She said this not in an offhand interview, but in an article that has been printed and reprinted. This woman, who also calls The Second Sex "brilliant" and "imperious." She got that right, but somehow skipped or dismissed about 99% of the other relevant, interesting feminist theory of the past fifty years. She also constantly reminds us that she is "radically pro-pornography, pro-prostitution, pro-abortion, and pro-legalization of drugs." We don't have Phyllis Schlafly here but ... Paglia certainly has her own category, whatever it is.
I actually wrote a bunch here about my thoughts on her but deleted it...maybe just read her thoughts on Judith Butler and make up your own mind. It's only the tip of the iceberg, though. Tell me if you want to hear about the other stuff and I'll tell you. Or maybe I'll get so enraged I'll make another post. I can imagine having her as a professor: "Bryan, you really should watch Monday Night Football, see what homosexuality really means. Those men, their innate strength and wild sexual bodies, pulsating with hormones. It's all essential, don't you see? Don't you see what those horrible academic feminists have done to you, revealing performativity and intellectual subversion, letting you read French theorists, HIDING Freud from you then insulting him?" If I could resist projectile vomiting all over her, I'd have to say "We read Freud in my women's studies class, actually. Then we read Lacan and Irigaray, not the way you say." Not to mention her romanticization of some imaginary little woman that apparently lives within every female (and gay male) that wants to be patronized, chased, and finally brutalized and raped by some shiny, muscled man. Ugh, don't even get me started.
In happier news, I watched the first part of Angels in America with Gail the other night. I had forgotten how much I loved it (and a lot of the plot points; the thing is so long).
And I'm starting work on a new project for K.R., working on Pocahontas research. Ever since I saw the Disney movie I wondered about Pocahontas. Not really anything in particular but just a general curiosity. And the short SNL Robert Smigel montage that included a nice porn, "Poke-a-hotass." Eh.
Back to work...