Friday, March 6, 2015

Friday: Two Quick Rants

 As a general rule, I try to stay outwardly upbeat. Complaining doesn't usually help things, and it has the additional effect of putting you in a worse mood than you were before. 


I am in a monumentally foul mood, mainly because of the weather, or our prodigious excess of it. I have not been out running since Saturday, almost every drive to work has been a white-knuckler (which also means no audiobook, since I don't dare to spare the concentration). It's miserable, I'm miserable, everything is miserable. 

So. Two things rubbed me the complete wrong way today, and I am going to bitch about them. 

#1: Seeing an author I like retweet something that tears another fandom down, because that fandom is temporarily in competition with hers. Listen, blast your triumphs as loud as you want, I will retweet the crap out of that. But when you start mocking other fandoms, even secondhand? It's rude from a fan, it's unprofessional in an author. 

(Side note: I originally posted this with a picture of the tweet, and named the author. Then I realized that was pretty unprofessional of me, and have edited this post. So if you're confused because you're seeing something different, that's why.)

#2: This: 

Tl;dr: Actually a pretty cool story about inmates and corrections officers banding together to break into a locked room, to prevent an inmate from raping a corrections officer. However, this jackass Norman Seabrook, the union prez, killed the mood:

"I appreciate [them] helping a sister officer, because that could have been their mother, wife, or sister," he said.

Okay. Okay. Let's try this. Any time we're talking about a woman being raped, and you start to feel the need to say, "she could be somebody's..." stop. Just stop right there. She doesn't have to be "somebody's". Because she is somebody all on her own. Women are also human beings, believe it or not, and have the right to not have sex against their will, regardless of what her nearest male relative has to say about it. Ugh. 

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