Oswald was down. It was so quick. If not for the firecracker-noise of the gun, I would never have known. They shot him! My mother, grandparents, some other relatives I have since forgotten Everyone was shushing me. Had I really seen that? The adults' eyes were collectively popping.
I felt pretty important for being the one to see it. Nobody answered. They kept shushing me, as obviously-shaken news-announcers talked about what they had just witnessed. And then, the adults were all looking at each other, that way adults did when they were thinking things that they would not share with children. Finally, my grandfather said, in what I have come to call his Christian Science Wisdom voice: "Well, that really stinks. My grandfather shook his head and said "Stinks!
My mother nodded gravely back at him. I didn't know what he meant then. The TV-announcers were saying his name: Jack Ruby. The man's name was Jack Ruby. Because the murder was widely perceived as an act of justice, nobody worried about the ill effects on all of us children who saw it.
And later, many years and decades later, when we began to doubt that what we saw was justice and instead wondered if it had been the silencing of a co-conspirator But I trace it all back to that day, the day in the basement of the Dallas city jail.
They ask us, do you remember where you were when John F. Kennedy was assassinated? But I always ask, instead: What did you think when his accused murderer was pronounced dead? Because the silencing began then, the questions asked that will forever remain unanswered. As Norman Mailer once explained the existence of the angry kids of the 60s: They hated the authority because the authority had lied.
My grandfather was right. It certainly did stink. And the stench covered everything. The lies of the powerful were uncovered and exposed before us, that morning in the basement of the Dallas city jail. Some of us never forgot. Therefore, when blogs like Feministing authoritatively announce: We mulled over how to respond most effectively here at Feministing, and have decided to publish a week-long series of responses from a diversity of young voices in our community Say whaat?
How is this any different from business-as-usual? They write as if this week-long special event is somehow different from the norm, and of course, it isn't, which is the hilarity. The fact that a tiny middle-aged squawk over at HARPER'S a magazine you have to BUY to read; it isn't online for everyone's perusal and I still haven't read the whole damn article can create such a fuss, is telling. However, Susan Faludi commands widespread respect, even from young feminists. She is likely the primary reason for the overarching concern this time; even Amanda Marcotte, major Youthquaker, notes that she was eager to read Faludi's account.
For my part, I have been howling non-stop about ageism within feminism since my arrival in Feminist Blogdonia in What is immediately striking is how this mass counter-attack would not happen regarding any other form of discrimination, except as we have seen numerous times for fat.
I very much doubt that if this was an account about racism in feminism by Alice Walker and she did write one , the response would be, "to present a diversity of white voices in our community. Yes, it is the same. Maybe worse, since Faludi outlines the incontrovertible facts: Second Wave feminism gave birth to the Third Wave, and this feud tends to imitate the elements of a mother-daughter fracas.
Since that's what it is. Basically, many Third-wavers are spitting in their feminist foremother's faces. Thus, it is very difficult for us to even find each other. I still can't find the entire text of Faludi's piece, so if you can find one online, please link here.
Gee, she sighed, I wonder why no young women were invited? I can't imagine. Interestingly, Faludi uses the word "handicapped"--the type of old-fashioned term that makes young women and me too, and I am older than Faludi wince.
I wonder how often our language-choices 'mark' us as older, online? She writes at length about the stylistic differences in Second and Third Wave feminists, and I suddenly remember my recent post in which I exhorted women to sass back to fatophobic doctors, advice that came almost verbatim from early issues of Ms. I was lambasted for expressing disgust that women so often act like victims , instead of paying customers, which we are. This is the kind of thing that got me lauded as a writer in the 70s, but now, I get excoriated for saying the exact same things.
How radically have our sensibilities changed, that what I say can be taken by my generation as a praiseworthy goal, but by the young women as somehow insulting? She had spent the last four years as national vice president for membership under [Kim] Gandy, who championed Lyles as her successor.
The young women don't give a shit about NOW, unless the prez is a young hipster like themselves. Can we be forgiven for thinking they might not be too serious?
We fought for so long not to have you wear those high heels! Lord have mercy, what a lousy state of affairs this is. One young feminist I respect a great deal, because I know she heartily works for the Forces of Good, is Natalia Antonova, who wrote: Inter-generational conflict always exists, and it affects way more than simply mainstream American feminism.
Is that too much theory, perhaps? Theory, of course, is another thing that Faludi says that younger feminists are too preoccupied with.
Recently, when I commented on another blog that [Bourgeois Feminist] didn't speak for me as a working class woman They got it. I admit, older feminists often didn't, and still don't. They still don't understand why we all didn't vote for Hillary. So maybe I wouldn't like the whole article, even as I enjoy the relatively cheap shots that I have quoted here.
Maybe I'll even get to read it one of these days. In the meantime, I am very pleased with my own daughter, as Jessica Valenti is proud of her own mother. Maybe that is key.
Generalizations are one thing, and I can relate to them. But how do we really feel? I am personally proud of young feminists when they stand up to patriarchy pardon old-fogie terminology and pave their own way Yes, I notice four musicians count em, four , rather than three. So maybe a quartet?
Actually, several folks were preparing to sit in, so I guess an impromptu jam session. Very nice, and somehow just perfect for Autumn. It was so nice to relax with some good music today. Thanks Shannon and compatriots!
It really is! Labels: 80s , Earworms , music , The Cure. I did not ask for a renewal. I do not want a renewal.
This is what I think Classmates. I used it for maybe 3 days. I did find some people I was looking for, which was my intention. I paid the fee. End of story. Not in our digital-rip-off age. I saw the pesky, unasked-for renewal-fee, after it showed up on my September credit-card statement.
I protested to my credit-card company, who duly took down the information. I called Classmates. Classmates puts you on hold as the expensive meter runs, depending on your particular long-distance service , whilst you listen to the theme of The Breakfast Club , "Don't you forget about me "--over and over and over. Unfortunately, they never even let the whole damn song play, they interrupt it at various junctures to insert obnoxious and contrived sales propaganda.
They claim 40 million members, for instance, and one can't help but think that at least half of them were hoodwinked into membership, just as I was. As the Breakfast Club music plays, various voice-overs tell you little just-so stories about couples who broke up in grade school and have reunited decades later, all due to the wonderfulness of Classmates. Now, how cute is that?
Finally, after listening to the same marriage story about 3 times, I got Jules. Employee number , something like that. Jules stonewalled very well and I would give her a big fat 10 on her monthly quality review. When I got tired of the stonewalling, I asked for her last name, which she would not give. We always had to, when I was in customer service ; no bullshit "employee numbers"--which can be easily changed to cover one's ass.
When I asked for her supervisor, she claimed to have no supervisor for me to speak to. Again, at my old job, protocol was immediate: you turned the call over to what was called a "coach"--not a real supervisor, but good enough for customers. Classmates doesn't have any such protocol, obviously. No supervisor? I told her it must be nice not to have a supervisor, what a cool job.
Jules said the supervisors call people back in the order the calls are received. Ohhh, I bet they do. Note: they haven't. I gave her my information. I shall be old and gray older and grayer by the time I hear back from Classmates, no question about it. AVOID , folks, with all your might. I just found this from the New York Observer ; which was published in August. Too late for me to have seen a year ago, but I certainly wish I had: Ever visited a shady section of the internet, been presented with a popup from a certain company and wondered to yourself, "What does she look like now?
Andrew Cuomo, clearly going after the big guns in his last few months as attorney general, announced today that Classmates.
This story is still developing, as the big bloggers say. Meanwhile, I can at least warn the rest of you. PS to Classmates: Facebook is free, did yall know that? Must be some pretty stiff competition, hm? Labels: Andrew Cuomo , Classmates. You know how we've always talked about the possibility of something going wrong with the Bomb?
Song Moods. All Moods. Song Themes. All Themes. Introspection 9. Stephen Stills. Stephen Stills Stephen Stills. Musician songwriter producer political activist. Vocals guitar keyboards bass guitar drums percussion. Stephen Stills. June 20, Retrieved August 14, United Press International.
January 3, Archived from the original on January 3, Retrieved September 3, Waging Heavy Peace. Blue Rider Press. Vanity Fair. Retrieved January 2, The Billboard Book of Top 40 Hits 8th ed. Record Research. Huff Post. Oath, Inc. Retrieved January 16, Genius Media Group Inc. Stephen Stills: Change Partners.
This Day In Music Books. Retrieved March 17, Retrieved April 17, Hachette Books. November 1, Archived from the original on October 21, Retrieved August 23, Retrieved December 17, Da Capo Press.
Retrieved June 18, Retrieved June 27, Rolling Stone. Retrieved December 20, Sun Media. Archived from the original on January 15, Retrieved August 30, Retrieved May 25, Excerpts available at Google Books. Retrieved February 22, The Uncool. Retrieved January 15, Crosby, Stills and Nash: The Biography. Retrieved March 10, October 31, August 17, Retrieved August 17, Retrieved March 8, Music Aficionado. Retrieved June 21, Retrieved September 2, Australian group, Chantoozies released a version in February The song was the second single from the group's second studio album Gild the Lily.
The song peaked at number 21 on the Australian charts. Luther Vandross released a cover of the song on his album Songs. In , the song was featured in Ridley Scott 's sci-fi movie Prometheus.
Idris Elba sings a short phrase from the song after describing a possibly fictional account of how his squeezebox used to belong to Stills. From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. Record Research. RPM archives. Ottawa : Library and Archives Canada.
January 30, Tuesday 2 June Thursday 4 June Friday 5 June Saturday 6 June Sunday 7 June Monday 8 June Tuesday 9 June Monday 15 June Tuesday 16 June Wednesday 17 June Friday 19 June Saturday 20 June Sunday 21 June Monday 22 June Tuesday 23 June Wednesday 24 June Thursday 25 June Friday 26 June Saturday 27 June Sunday 28 June Monday 29 June Tuesday 30 June Wednesday 1 July Thursday 2 July Friday 3 July Saturday 4 July Sunday 5 July Monday 6 July Tuesday 7 July Wednesday 8 July Thursday 9 July Friday 10 July Saturday 11 July Sunday 12 July Monday 13 July Tuesday 14 July Wednesday 15 July Thursday 16 July Friday 17 July Saturday 18 July Sunday 19 July Monday 20 July Tuesday 21 July"Love the One You're With" is a song by folk rock musician Stephen Stills. It was released as the lead single from his debut self-titled studio album in November The song, inspired by a remark Stills heard from musician Billy Preston, became his biggest hit single, peaking at No. 14 on the Billboard Hot in early David Crosby and Graham Nash, Stills' fellow members of Crosby.