Yes, wanting background music in a grocery store to not be misogynistic means you also want all forms of art everywhere to be pablum.
"My problem is not so much with Sir Mick, who penned the lyrics with Keith Richards when both were 23 years old in a bygone era, before I was even born. The young rockers had found that copping a swaggering sexual posture was money in the bank."
The tools of conquest of a website do not necessarily come with hacking and DDOS and SQL injection attacks. There are weapons that are simply thoughts, attitudes, prejudices - to be found only in the minds of humans commenting on the 'best of the web'. For the record, prejudices can close accounts...and suspicion can destroy rational conversation...and a search for acknowledgement of social issues and the quagmire one falls into over the enumerating the frustrations of the world they live in has a fallout all of its own - for the users...and the users yet to join. And the pity of it is...that these things cannot be confined...to the Twilight Zone.
"A crude but often revealing method of assessing male bias in lyrics is to take a song written by a man about a woman and reverse the sexes. By this test, a diatribe like "Under My Thumb" is not nearly so sexist in its implications as, for example, Cat Stevens's gentle, sympathetic "Wild World"; Jagger's fantasy of sweet revenge could easily be female—in fact, it has a female counterpart, Nancy Sinatra's "Boots"—but it's hard to imagine a woman sadly warning her ex-lover that he's too innocent for the big bad world out there." (Willis 2011:136) cite
I'm pretty certain that included Mark Arm, Bruce Pavitt, and members of Soundgarden. I presume there are still hip people working there.
NoraReed: “maybe that wasn't what you were going for, ob1quixote, but you should know that's why those sort of statements leave a bad taste in a lot of our mouths.”
From an interview with Quentin Crisp in the Winter 1997 issue of Monk, a magazine published from various locations throughout the country by Michael Lane and James Crotty. Crisp is the author, most recently, of Resident Alien. He lives in New York City.
Monk: Why do you have to live in New York?
Quentin Crisp: Well, I live in Manhattan for the same reason that everybody lives here: so as to be ready to rule the world, should the opportunity arise. And you can't rule the world from anywhere else. So you have to stay here.
Monk: What kind of ruler would you be?
Quentin Crisp: Very benign. I would let almost anything go, except the music. I would put a stop to the music.
Monk: All music, or just certain kinds?
Quentin Crisp: All music.
Monk: No music?
Quentin Crisp: No more music.
Monk: Why's that?
Quentin Crisp: It's the cause of everything that's gone wrong in the world. The dirty music. The young are violent because they have no inner life. And they have no inner life because they have no thoughts. And they have no thoughts because they know no words. And they know no words because they never speak. And they never speak because the music's too loud.
Bassist Cubbie Fink has a cousin who survived the Columbine High School massacre in 1999. Fink said of his cousin's experience, "She was actually in the library when everything went down, so I actually flew out to be with her the day after it happened and experienced the trauma surrounding it and saw how affected she was by it. She is as close as a sister, so obviously, it affected me deeply. So to be able to have a song to create a platform to talk about this stuff has been good for us."
The women were in Washington to attend the New Left’s Counter-Inaugural to Richard Nixon’s first Inauguration. Late in the protest, under a large tent set up near the Washington Monument, the antiwar leader Dave Dellinger, serving as master of ceremonies, announced, “The women have asked all the men to leave the stage.” They hadn’t, but his words gave a nasty impression, made worse by the sight of a paraplegic Vietnam veteran being carried off to make way for the “women’s libbers.” Marilyn Webb, a local feminist who was slated to speak, remembers thinking, “Holy God, how did I get here?” Webb was three sentences into “the mildest speech you can imagine,” she said, when men in the audience began to shout, “Take her off the stage and fuck her!” and “Fuck her down a dark alley!” All the while, she recalled, “Shulie is on my right saying, ‘Keep going!’ ” Firestone tried to speak next, but was drowned out by a howl of sexual epithets.
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