Being the avid history nerd that I am, I was basically counting down the minutes until the opening of Iron Lady, the new film chronicling Margaret Thatcher’s life, starring Meryl Streep. I mean, what could be better than Meryl Streep (who is awesomeness in human form) taking on a complex, fascinating character like Prime Minister Thatcher, right? Regardless of your politics, Margaret Thatcher’s story is an exciting one.
I was expecting a few things from the film. First, I was expecting a kick-butt performance from Ms. Streep. Second, I was expecting to learn more about Margaret Thatcher’s political and personal story, since I don’t know that much about her. Third, I was expecting to be thoroughly entertained.
Unfortunately, only one of my three expectations was really fulfilled. Meryl…
“Let me buy you dinner,” he said with a smile. He looked at me with confidence. He was close to me in age, and handsome. His actions were presumably innocent. On the surface, there was no reason for me to refuse. He thought he was simply asking me on a date, but it implied a deeper meaning.
He didn’t phrase his proposal as a question, but I still had a choice. I could say yes and smile endearingly; I could take the sandwich he wanted to buy me and thank him for his generosity. But I knew that if I wanted to live with myself, the answer would be no. I could not carry on as a hypocrite. I could not relinquish my self-respect for a sandwich.
Recently, I participated, in a willing, great hook-up. The week before I participated in a willing make-out session. I just moved to a new town. I don’t know anyone around here that well, and the unfortunate thing about that is that I don’t know who knows who — for instance how close hook-up A is to hook-up B. This is where my story really starts.
Let’s call the two guys I’ve hooked up with Boy A and Boy B. Boy A had a crush on me. Since I had only known him for about a week, I assumed it was casual. I was wrong. At some point during our short time together, he decided we were in a relationship. Now, we’re talking about a guy that I’ve probably seen four times…
After 20 years in the music biz, self-described “Little Folksinger” Ani DiFranco is still technically little, although her influence on fellow musicians, activists, and indie-minded people the world over has been huge. She still proudly identifies as a folksinger, too, but her understanding of that term has always been far more expansive than a bin at the record store or a category on iTunes, with ample room for soul, funk, jazz, electronic music, spoken word, and a marching band or two. Over the course of more than 20 albums, including the live double CD Living in Clip (1997) and the two-disc career retrospective Canon (2007), as well as the latest one, ¿Which Side are You On? (2012), Ani has never stopped evolving, experimenting, testing the limits of what can…
Let’s face it: hatred on the internet is big. Hatred of all varieties including sexism, racism and homophobia (etc.) are found everywhere online, and some sites in particular are known as a breeding ground for offensive and insulting users (yes YouTube, I’m looking at you… )
Recently I was fortunate enough to stumble upon the Feminist Frequency YouTube channel. For those of you who aren’t familiar it, Feminist Frequency is a YouTube-based video series run by Anita Sarkeesian, who creates intelligent, thought-provoking videos on the rampant sexism in the pop culture of contemporary society. I very much enjoy watching all of Anita’s great videos, and was happy to find that on each there was an intellectual exchange of ideas, praise, and even debating – that’s reasonable debating- going on…
I’ve always wanted to be a historian, and not just your run of the mill historian but one that changes the study and review of the discipline. But I’ve faced a problem, it’s such a subtle problem that I almost missed it, but in hindsight I realise it’s something I need to tackle head on.
To begin with, you must meet my male friend, J, now J and I are best friends due to our love of history. In fact we both want to study it in university, the difference being that J wishes to be a teacher and I wish to be an academic. During my final year of High School, J and I and others were asked continually what we wished to study.
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