Feminism

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feminist, happiness, life, murder, musings, rants, rape, relationships, respect, sex, sex 2, society, thoughts, women

There has been a lot of discussion of feminist issues on various social media, following the brutal rape and murder of Nirbhaya. Most of the outcry is emotional, necessary and laudable.  Predictably, there is a small minority seeking to blame the victims for the problem: skirts too short, drinking alcohol, not chaperoned, &c.  Thankfully, the vermin spouting these lies are relatively rare (albeit not quite rare enough).

What I also detect is a worrying undercurrent that seems to suggest that feminist ideas and ideals are pro-woman but anti-man.  I believe this is fundamentally flawed.  I am proud to declare that I am a feminist.  I absolutely believe that equality of opportunity is in the best interests of both sexes.

In my experience, women who are respected, supported and feel safe, are more likely to be happy.  Women who are happy, keep men happy.  I don’t know of any other way that works.

So, it follows, that feminism is in the best interests of even the most selfish man, and all the rest of us too.

Inter-cultural Group

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cultural group, culture, diversity, multi-national, musings, overseas visitors, thoughts, travel

One of the advantages of working for a multi-national organisation is that we acquire workforce from all over the world. We have a marvelous mix here, which rather suits my zenophile tendencies.
An Indian and a Brazilian in our midst, created the Inter-cultural Group here, a year or so ago. I am flattered that they invited me to join.  The group provides advice on cultural issues for travelling employees; support to overseas visitors; translations; and spreads cultural awareness and appreciation of diversity through the workplace.

We’ve organised a summer party for group members, at our hotel, this evening, which I am very much looking forward to.  I hope to be able to bring you some interesting tales and photos later.

Hope versus expectation.

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beauty, behaviour, life, love, marriage, musings, relationships, sex, thoughts

I hope Natalie Imbruglia is going to invite me round tonight but I don’t expect she will. We all like to fantasize, dream, allow our imaginations to run riot from time to time. I think this is healthy and maybe a necessary precursor for change.

Also, it is eminently reasonable to have expectations: it’s virtually impossible to plan anything unless you can rely on things behaving within bounds.

It all starts to go pear-shaped when we confuse the two, however; when our expectations become unrealistic and unreasonable.  So much in the modern world entices us down this path: RomComs and ChickLit show women how romance works; porn shows blokes the correct shape for a woman and how their nuptials should be; advertisers sell life-styles that no-one can afford; politicians promise peace, prosperity and happiness for all.  You can almost taste the disappointment, anti-climax and unhappiness!

People will never be perfect.  Maybe, if our expectations are realistic, we can be content instead.

The Beautiful Game

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euro 2012, life, musings, Self-control, soccer, standards, thoughts, women

I’ve seen every match of Euro 2012 so far. Some bits have been quite good but, for the most part, I have found it a disappointment.  This competition should be a display and celebration of the best that Europe has to offer, but it is not.  The way the rules are interpretted allows cheats to prosper, so it’s no surprise that everyone cheats.  This is not a criticism of individual referees: they are only performing to the guidelines of the governing bodies.  Until the refs issue a booking for every deliberate infringement, the game will deteriorate.

I also watched the women’s match England versus Netherlands 2013 qualifier yesterday.  What a breath of fresh air!  Although the women are not so fast or skillful as the men, they seem to show infinitely more respect for the game, and the entertainment value is much enhanced as a result.  Maybe FIFA should take note!

Shame on Teddy

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behaviour, charitable cause, friendly match, life, musings, professional footballer, sports, thoughts

Soccer Aid is supposed to be a friendly match. The issue is not whether England or the Rest of the World team wins but rather about the amount of money raised for UNICEF. So why did ex-professional footballer Teddy Sheringham feel the need to assault TV chef Gordon Ramsay? I use the word “assault” advisedly: no way could anyone regard that as a tackle!  So poor Gordon was carried off in an oxygen mask for donating his evening for a charitable cause.  Not nice Teddy!

Genitals

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life, musings, psychology, rants, self-esteem, self-image, sex, thoughts

A thought prompted by a short piece I heard on Radio 4 last night. What did you teach your children to call their genitals? Surveys suggest anything but their proper names. So, is there something embarrassing about the words penis, scrotum, vulva and vagina? And if we teach our children words like willy, front bottom, foo-foo, and the like, what message are we sending out? Are we saying that these body parts are something to be ashamed of?
Children are “blank canvasses” and will accept whatever terminology we give them. Are we giving them the wrong words to save ourselves embarrassment?  And, if so, are we doing them a disservice?

Country Folk

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behaviour, life, musings, rants, Skegness Latest News, thoughts

I thought they had a reputation for being friendly? This photo taken on Little Thorpe Lane, Thorpe-on-the-Hill, Lincolnshire. Does this constitute a threat, I wonder?

Respect.

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age, life, musings, rants, respect, thoughts

I picked Maeve up from work at 1600 Saturday. She asked me if we could detour on our journey home, in order to deliver some milk to an old woman, who had rung her during the afternoon. Apparently, the old woman was house-bound because of the snow and had been unable to make herself a hot drink all day. Maeve said she sounded really frail and pathetic on the ‘phone: naturally I said yes.  I further suggested that we could nip down to the supermarket for her, if she needed anything else.  The distance between the woman’s house and the supermarket is less than ten minutes walk.

I waited outside in the car whilst Maeve made the milk delivery.  I could not have predicted the tale she related when she emerged.  The woman’s two teenage grandsons were playing upstairs and refusing to answer her calls.  She said that her son drops his children off at her house every weekend and he takes her car.  Words fail me!