It’s Been “Queered,” You See
Time to run a finger along academia’s cutting edge:
Book those tickets now, ladies. Time is short and you’ve so much to learn.
You will, needless to say, be taking instruction from “agents of self-knowledge production” who will fearlessly and heroically “expand traditional narratives about madres / mothering as an action, an embodied experience,” and who will be “expanding the terminology of motherhood as it connects to LGBTQIA+ communities, racial identities, gender expressions, surviving oppressions, straddling socio-economic statuses, citizenship, and cultural memory.”
Other temptations include “virtual LGBTQ-affirming yoga,” an exploration of “trauma-informed movement,” conducted via Zoom. And for which participants are reminded to “bring your own mat or towel.”
Yes, it’s a “self-empowering learning environment,” in which the big questions will not be shied from:
It’s no use trying to flee. I’ve locked the doors.
While pondering these questions, and the inevitable “intersections of identities,” attendees will be given a precious opportunity to mingle with Professor Sotomayor, along with Dr Ashleigh Strange – a they-person, pictured here – and numerous, equally dazzling “protest organisers, musicians, poets, and drag performers.”
And obviously, when anyone thinks of motherhood, the first thing that comes to mind is the term drag performers. Which is to say, suggestively gyrating men, wearing tights and corsets, and generally being fierce, while demanding your fealty. Your full-throated affirmation of their gyrating, corset-wearing cause.
This, then, is “the expanding terminology of motherhood as it connects to LGBTQIA+ communities.” And nothing screams motherhood quite like a convulsing bald man in a bodystocking.
Above, the embodiment of motherhood.
You will become “AUTHENTICALLY YOU” – authenticity being a recurring theme of the event – by watching peculiar men hurling themselves about while dressed up as women, something they aren’t.
Consider this an open thread. Share ye links and bicker.
I want to go back to the timeline where things make sense.
I’m being traumatized by the screaming baldie.
It’s curious how poking through listings of academic events calls to mind eighteenth-century tourists visiting Bedlam.
Above, more queered motherhood.
As opposed to a disembodied experience? So many words, so little meaning.
I want the timeline where aggressive loonies like this cannot get jobs.
I’m sensing a failure to embrace the breath-taking radicalism on offer.
Were you not tempted by the prospect of mingling with, and being educated by, the terminally pretentious and the psychologically marginal?
Other efforts at “queering” things can be found here, here, and here.
A twat?
Nominative determinism in the wild.
[ Rummages in lost property box. ]
I can loan you a yoga mat.
[ Sound of Julia’s car being driven away at speed. ]
Today’s word is irony, isn’t it?
from the link:
Euphemism for the right to subject everyone else to their mental illness. 24/7.
Kutztown University motto (and no, I am not making this up): “It’s Good To Be Golden”.
Gold being one of their colors, and I guess it is better than “It’s Good To Be Maroon”*, but not exactly what one would call inspiring like Dominus illuminatio mea (Oxford) or Veritatem cognoscetis, et veritas vos liberabit (Tennessee).
There are way too many places like this, at least clown college graduates can get jobs in circuses, not that there appears to be a lot different from the exhibition above, but at least you take kids to and get peanuts at a circus.
*(I believe they tried “It’s Good To Be A Maroon” but the other schools snickering tipped them off)
Well, referring to yourself, quite seriously, as an “agent of self-knowledge production” does rather suggest a failure of the quality supposedly on offer.
The professed area of expertise.
[ Starts compiling Friday’s Ephemera, ponders lunch options. ]
Back in 1983, just post KAL 007, I listened for an hour to two apparatchiks tell us how wonderful and free the publishing world was in the Soviet Union. These queer “scholars” make the commie propagandists seem like real intellectuals.
I’m trying to imagine just how credulous, pretentious, or broken you’d have to be to find such things affirming or in some way representative. A thing you’d want to identify with.
Except as a narcissistic grifter, I mean.