Searching for Oz

I spent some time this morning trying to write a comment about Colin Pantall's blog entry (here), but his blog is not like this one where, I hope, truth emanates from profound goofiness.  I didn't want to leave one of my provocative comments there.  I tried to water it down, tried to make an academic statement, but it is too early and I was up too late and drank too much last night and have a throbbing headache that is not being helped along by the pot of coffee I am consuming.  I was particularly interested in the Atlantic article he had linked to (here).  If you read the comments, you will see some of the challenges you might face if you want to opine about the issue.  The idea that one commenter is vexed by people who do not have a deep understanding of Islam lending their support to the protestors is a not-so-subtle way of closing the conversation down.  Sure.  That's why the Catholic Church used Latin for mass throughout the centuries.  If you didn't know Latin. . . how could you comment.  To me it is like saying you don't know enough about Voodoo to comment on ritual sacrifice.  You don't know enough about Bongo Bongo Lord of the Congo to comment on. . . whatever.  It's titties!  What the fuck?  There are fundamentalists who want to stone a woman to death for showing them.  Cretins and Neanderthals I say.

But for me, the real issue is not titties at all, but the fact that this protest can only happen in the west.  It could be anything.  It could be men with big dicks.  It could be someone who wrote a book those who have a "deeper understanding of Islam" didn't like.  It is about Fear Mongers and the Death Grip.  Why do I love Western Culture?  Things like the Enlightenment.  Because women can protest with their breasts exposed and not have the Big Fear (just fear--the normal garden variety).

I like those women in those photographs.  I like best the photo of the man kicking the woman in the butt.  It says more to me than any other of the photographs about the shifting power paradigm.  I mean. . . we know that if it came to a fight, she could kick his ass.  So what is he doing?  Did he get arrested? Did they throw him in the paddy wagon, too?  Obviously he didn't have a deep enough understanding of feminism, and that is what disturbs me most.

No, wait, maybe that is my point.  You need to have a deep understanding of all ideologies before you comment or act.  Yes, that is my point, I think.  Don't act.  Stay calm.  Think it through.  Meditate.  Oz will let you know when the time for motion has come, for he is The Great and Powerful Wizard.

And now we all know that I made a good decision not to leave a comment on Mr. Pantall's blog.

I love the awkward pose in today's photograph.  It reminds me of Balthus.  And other things, too.