no shade but whenever i hear a middle aged person say “back in my day it was called parenting!!!! but now they wanna call it child abuse!!!!!” im just like???? sorry you cant beat your kids in peace anymore but go die
It’s time to bring an end to the Rape Anthem Masquerading As Christmas Carol
Hi there! Former English nerd/teacher here. Also a big fan of jazz of the 30s and 40s.
So. Here’s the thing. Given a cursory glance and applying today’s worldview to the song, yes, you’re right, it absolutely *sounds* like a rape anthem.
BUT! Let’s look closer!
“Hey what’s in this drink” was a stock joke at the time, and the punchline was invariably that there’s actually pretty much nothing in the drink, not even a significant amount of alcohol.
See, this woman is staying late, unchaperoned, at a dude’s house. In the 1940’s, that’s the kind of thing Good Girls aren’t supposed to do — and she wants people to think she’s a good girl. The woman in the song says outright, multiple times, that what other people will think of her staying is what she’s really concerned about: “the neighbors might think,” “my maiden aunt’s mind is vicious,” “there’s bound to be talk tomorrow.” But she’s having a really good time, and she wants to stay, and so she is excusing her uncharacteristically bold behavior (either to the guy or to herself) by blaming it on the drink — unaware that the drink is actually really weak, maybe not even alcoholic at all. That’s the joke. That is the standard joke that’s going on when a woman in media from the early-to-mid 20th century says “hey, what’s in this drink?” It is not a joke about how she’s drunk and about to be raped. It’s a joke about how she’s perfectly sober and about to have awesome consensual sex and use the drink for plausible deniability because she’s living in a society where women aren’t supposed to have sexual agency.
Basically, the song only makes sense in the context of a society in which women are expected to reject men’s advances whether they actually want to or not, and therefore it’s normal and expected for a lady’s gentleman companion to pressure her despite her protests, because he knows she would have to say that whether or not she meant it, and if she really wants to stay she won’t be able to justify doing so unless he offers her an excuse other than “I’m staying because I want to.” (That’s the main theme of the man’s lines in the song, suggesting excuses she can use when people ask later why she spent the night at his house: it was so cold out, there were no cabs available, he simply insisted because he was concerned about my safety in such awful weather, it was perfectly innocent and definitely not about sex at all!) In this particular case, he’s pretty clearly right, because the woman has a voice, and she’s using it to give all the culturally-understood signals that she actually does want to stay but can’t say so. She states explicitly that she’s resisting because she’s supposed to, not because she wants to: “I ought to say no no no…” She states explicitly that she’s just putting up a token resistance so she’ll be able to claim later that she did what’s expected of a decent woman in this situation: “at least I’m gonna say that I tried.” And at the end of the song they’re singing together, in harmony, because they’re both on the same page and they have been all along.
So it’s not actually a song about rape - in fact it’s a song about a woman finding a way to exercise sexual agency in a patriarchal society designed to stop her from doing so. But it’s also, at the same time, one of the best illustrations of rape culture that pop culture has ever produced. It’s a song about a society where women aren’t allowed to say yes…which happens to mean it’s also a society where women don’t have a clear and unambiguous way to say no.
remember loves: context is everything. and personal opinion matters. If you still find this song to be a problem, that’s fine. But please don’t make it into something it’s not because it’s been stripped of cultural context.
This is actually really interesting. I’ve never known a lot of the background to this song.
i’m now seeing posts that are basically accusing therapists of being the same as ““““neurotypicals”””” who tell you that doing yoga will cure your depression
and it’s fucking killing me because ??? the idea of being annoyed by people telling you that stuff is because those people honestly think that doing yoga and “looking on the bright side” will magically cure your depression, because they can’t imagine happiness not coming as easily to someone else as it does to them. the idea isn’t that getting exercise and practicing positive thinking are useless ways to treat depression. but that’s what i’m seeing a lot of now and i just want to say…. i got some fucking bad news, cause that is the treatment for depression.
therapists telling you to get good nutrition and exercise are not the same as your yoga-instructor aunt on facebook posting pictures of the sunrise and wondering how anyone can be depressed when the world is so wonderful!!! thats not just an anti-recovery attitude, it’s an anti-treatment attitude, and it’s unbelievably ignorant.
there’s sort of this interesting circular form to dealing with mental illness, where you start in a place of “i just need to think positively and push myself out of this ditch” and then you move to step 2, which is “depression is a real and very serious illness and it’s not my fault that i’m tired all the time, stop telling me to just “think positive” all the time.”
But then there’s step three, which is where you size up your situation and say “look, i understand how serious my illness is, and i’m no longer blaming myself for it. And it sucks, and I don’t “deserve” this, and I didn’t bring it on myself. But regardless of how unfair it is, the truth is that I’m the only one who can actually do anything about it.” And so in a lot of ways, you end up with parallel ways of thinking as before, but this time you’re coming from a completely different source of understanding. People who don’t know anything about mental illness say “depression is a choice.” People who are fed up with being depressed and realize that wallowing in the comforting embrace of self-pity is useful to erase guilt, but ultimately won’t help them lead a better life say, “recovery is a choice.”
The first group means that if you’re depressed, you can just magically decide not to be depressed. The second group means that depression is a crushing weight on your back determined to make your life as miserable (and as short) as possible, and that you didn’t do anything to cause it, but that ultimately you have the choice of giving up and accepting being depressed for the rest of your life, or you have the option of making an effort to improve your quality of life. Similar statements, totally different meanings.
But I think a lot of people are sort of seduced by the comfort of giving up, and with the good intention of creating communities of understanding and non-judgement between mentally ill people, social media has unwittingly created communities of mentally ill people encouraging each other to give up. To just accept that this is the way their lives are, and there’s no possibility of getting better. And that’s how it’s gotten to the point of people dismissing actual mental health professionals as being no different than some ignorant person who doesn’t know the first thing about psychology and thinks an avocado smoothie will solve all your problems.
Avocado smoothie people are coming from the first perspective, that being depressed is a free choice that you can easily opt out of. Therapists are coming from the second perspective, where mental illness is a horrible reality, but given that you’re seeing them, a provider of mental health treatment, of fucking course they’re going to give you advice on how to treat your mental illness! Your therapist isn’t going to sit around and say “yeah man that sucks, haha look at this funny meme about how much you want to kill yourself.” Your therapist is going to give you recommendations of activities and habits that will help you recover. And they understand that these activities are not easy!!! They get that!!! The reason they’re there is to help you introduce these activities and ways of thinking into your life!!! Otherwise they’d just hand you a pamphlet and walk out!!!
But you can’t access that kind of help - the kind where you say “getting out of the house is a real problem for me, I never have the energy to get out of bed” and your therapist says “okay let’s figure out how to break this down into small steps, we’ll set a small goal for this week, and next time we meet you can tell me if it worked out, and if it did then we can figure out what the next goal will be, and if not then we can figure out why it didn’t work and try a different approach” - if you immediately dismiss any mention of recovery as “neurotypical bullshit.”
Anyways please please please take your healthcare seriously, get treatment, and realize that giving up and normalizing your depression/anxiety/etc as something that will never ever get better (yes, even if it’s a chronic condition that you’ll never fully cure, you still need to treat it) is not okay. Try to get good nutrition. Try to get sunshine and exercise. Try to be social. Making an effort to do things that will help you is not the same as thinking mental illness is a switch you can easily flip. Getting treatment is not the same thing as pretending your mental illness doesn’t exist or isn’t serious. On the contrary, getting treatment is taking your mental illness seriously. I’m not saying you should never make a joke or reblog a fucking meme or anything, I’m saying don’t use social media as your mental health care provider. Social media can be a way to vent, but venting is not the same thing as recovering.
Honestly it can take a very long time to get to that “step 3″ perspective but it’s a vital step.
I found some of my old editing work on a flash drive, and there was one novel which grabbed my attention and I immediately started screeching like a pterodactyl . Thankfully It never actually made it to publication because it was so bad, and the editor above me got fired for letting it get past the vetting process.
Mostly I’m just reading through it and cringing, but then I came across some of my own commentary at the side.
It starts out pretty tame. And yes, some people DO forget the names of their MC’s half way through a book. (Or the second chapter in this case, switching back and forth between Karen and Kate so much I eventually gave up.)
Then starts to become a little bit eeeeeh, and I have to make several of these changes and suggestions, mostly prompting for the language to be removed and rewritten entirely as it was VILE.
Then about chapter five I have lost my mind and well…:
this shouldn’t make me wish i was an editor but i wish i was an editor.
I just spat perfectly good coffee out.
I debated whether I should actually reblog this, because fucking Christ this ia horrible.
Okay who the fuck brought this back.
I have had an experience very similar to this and pmuch every other person I know who has ever done any editing has also.
No matter how much you hate your own writing, working for any length of time as an editor of professionally published work will give you perspective.
hey if u can’t drive/are a slow learner due to a disability or mental illness, just picture historical figures like pirates or the founding fathers trying to operate a car.
it’s only “easy” bc we’ve normalized it.
it would be great for neurotypicals to reblog this
Hey Tumblr fam. I’m sharing my GoFundMe. I wish I could gather myself to write a great post but I can’t.
To keep it short, on Christmas Eve a reckless driver hit my dad while he was blowing leaves. He was cleaning up the front area of our neighborhood and a speeding driver hit him. I love my dad. I was his shadow. I also live with him.
I’m a college student who of course doesn’t make enough to bury my father, with no insurance, and to keep our house. I’m raising funds for our home and the burial.
I’m struggling right now because I was out there after it happened. I saw him die. I’m struggling. So please forgive me as I try to be an adult about this. Please help me out. Please please boost. I can’t keep writing a new post about this. It was hard enough to make the page, answer phone calls, and visitors to my house. I’m struggling. I’m hurt. I’m at a lost. I’m angry. I’m hoping to at least eliminate my financial burdens at this moment. Thank you so much for your support and shares. Please hug your parents for me.
