Musical Interlude

Still working on the project. I always forget/misremember/block out how long the editing and revision process takes. I will be damned if I lose another weekend to this monster...

So, while my brain occupies itself with sentence structure, tense agreement, the correct placement of figure and plate references, and the completeness of my bibliography, please enjoy The Distillers "Seneca Falls."



Excerpted from the lyrics:

Susan B. Anthony
Forever haunting me
Owned raped sold thrown
A woman was never her own
They cried freedom rise up for me
...
Elizabeth Cady
Forever reminding me
I don't steal the air I breathe
Freedom rise up for me

"I don't steal the air I breathe" should be on a bumper sticker or T-shirt...

An interesting juxtaposition with a blurb from Douglas' The Feminization of American Culture:

Virginia Woolf has written with extraordinary perception of a woman's constant and constantly frustrated need to have "a room of one's own." Perhaps she understood less well why women... often could not even formulate it as a goal. If a person feels, no matter whether consciously or otherwise, devalued, pushed aside, she or he craves first and foremost reassurance of her or his existence.... Given their cultural isolation, a demand for a room of their own could seem like further renunciation of an already slender claim on life, acceptance of solitary confinement. (p. 77)

I need more demanding that I'm not stealing the air I breathe, and less satisfaction with my existence merely being acknowledged. That's been part of the process of my blogging; out of the solitary confinement of my head, and into the world!!!


PS: In searching the WorldCat link for Douglas' book, I was rewarded with "Surv!ving the Fem!n!zat!on of America: How to Keep Women From Ru!n!ng Your L!fe." Sorry, asshat, no searchable or linky goodness promoting your book!