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Archive for the ‘feminism’ Category

Turns out doctors can be pigs too … who knew?

In fail, feminism, health, medicine on December 8, 2014 at 6:06 pm

So Saturday morning morning was weird. Was helping out at a CPD seminar the MJA ran. Ninety doctors in one room — mix of ages, mix of genders, mix of ethnicities.

I’ve never been one to put doctors on a pedestal, even more so since working with them, even though I respect their brains and work ethic. My dad’s experience as a young man taught him, and me, that doctors are fallible just like you and me. And yet … And yet.

Turns out a room full of doctors who think they’re not being overheard can be as mean, condescending and brutally porcine as any other group.

Saturday’s proceedings started out with a presenter who decided that calling the woman who was handing around the microphone “the dancing girl” was acceptable.

In the course of his presentation he had reason to show on the big screen a photo of an obese man sitting in a plastic chair on a beach while two bikini-clad babes clowned around trying to pull him to his feet. “They’re not going to enjoy the view when they finally do get him up.” Apparently the audience found that hilarious.

That was the moment when I, the only obese non-doctor in the room, realised that I was feeling unsafe in what was essentially my workplace, and decided to sit out the rest of the presentation in the lobby.

The next speaker was talking about sleep apnoea and COPD (overlap syndrome).

Enter a photo of an index patient — an obese man in his late 50s, unshaven, on oxygen … “Can someone tell me something about this patient?” asks the presenter.

“He’s a blue bloater”, a doctor yells back. “Yes indeed” says the presenter.

Much hilarity ensues.

Every profession has its internal shorthand, God knows journos are no exception. And ‘blue bloater’ and ‘pink puffer’ are short descriptors of certain types of patient. I don’t care. It was appalling. Particularly to the only pink puffer in the room.

I guess it just came as a shock to find doctors, particularly GPs, being so … High school …

Disappointing. And yet, sadly unsurprising.

Why @7Sport’s tennis coverage needs to grow up

In fail, feminism, media, sport on January 18, 2014 at 12:39 pm
Todd Woodbridge ... honorary vagina

Todd Woodbridge … honorary vagina

It’s hard to think of an Australian sports event that gets wider international coverage than the Australian Open tennis. You only need to spend half an hour listening to AO Radio to realise that. They’re hearing from listeners around the globe.

The Boxing Day Test might come close, i suppose, but that’s only because two-thirds of India are betting on every ball.

Otherwise it’s hard to think of any others with such a broad appeal worldwide.

It would be great if Seven could show some real commitment and sophistication in their coverage.

Let’s start, for instance, with their attitude to women.

As far as I can work out there are only three women involved in Seven’s commentary team. Rennae Stubbs is courtside and post-match interviews. But only on women’s games. Brit Sam Smith is in the box, but only for women’s games. And only as a sidekick to Todd Woodbridge or Hamish McLachlan.

And what’s with the Brit? Are there no competent Australians around? No doubt Liz Smylie and her cohorts are off earning real money with the American networks. UPDATE: Liz Smylie is earning very few bucks, I suspect, with ABC Grandstand.

And there’s Johanna Griggs who has been doing the voiceovers, mostly saying “not too far away”. Until last night she’s been heard and not seen, which is a shame as she’s a proven on-camera talent and makes a nice change from Bruce McAvaney’s increasingly quirky presence. Special.

Seven, if a woman can umpire a men’s match on centre court in a Grand Slam event, why can’t a woman commentate on it? It’s the same sport, just with uglier outfits and bigger serves. C’mon.

It’s not just the commentary box team that is telling, however. Look at the big guns commentating on the men’s matches for Seven. McAvaney, Fitzgerald, Roger Rasheed, Newcombe and of course, the big money, Jim Courier. Where’s the big spend on the women’s team, Seven? Where’s Evert or Navratilova, or Shriver, or Austin or Smylie or whoever?

Jim Courier stepped on court for a women’s match last night. Of course it was only to tell us that we only had to sit through one more set of women’s tennis before the real stuff started with the upcoming men’s match.

Seven brings in the execrable Henri Leconte every time a French player steps on court. Oh, wait. Every time a French man steps on court. Alize Cornet is going around against Sharapova this morning without the benefit of Leconte’s buffoonery. Actually, thanks for that.

Then there’s Seven’s scheduling. Yesterday, for example, there were three seeded women playing, including the fourth seed and HUGELY popular Li Na, in a cracking three-setter, but Seven chose to focus on a men’s doubles match featuring two young Aussies Kyrgios and Kokkinakis, It wasn’t until there was a delay in that match that they switched to Li Na.

There’s interest in Australian players and then there’s stubborn parochialism that sacrifices good tennis for the sake of a bit of pointless flag-waving. We missed Azarenka the other night, because you thought we wanted to watch Gael Monfils (+ Leconte) and some young American neville called Sock. Earlier in the week we got to watch Aussie neville Josh Thompson while the defending champion Novak Djokovic was going around on another court.

It’s not good enough, Seven. It’s not good enough from a tennis fan’s point of view. It’s not good enough from a woman’s point of view.

Wake up and smell the 21st century, FFS.

The stalking of Julia Gillard

In books, feminism, media, politics on June 29, 2013 at 7:55 am

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From Allen and Unwin.

Here it is, voters … The comic stylings of Mal Brough (and/or his team)

In fail, feminism, great photos, media, oxygen thieves, politics on June 12, 2013 at 1:25 pm

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It is amazing to me that this kind of hate is still considered acceptable by some sections of our society.

It is amazing to me that this was sent, allegedly to a “journalist” (Peter van Onselen) back in March, but he did nothing about it.

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It is amazing to me that Joe Hockey, a man not unfamiliar with food, I think you’ll agree, to have been at the fundraiser and yet claim to have not seen the menu:

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It is amazing to me that Tony Abbott can acknowledge the offensiveness of the menu and yet when asked if this will affect Mal Brough’s pre-selection, can say “absolutely not”.

It will be amazing to me if any of this reaches anyone west of Petersham or anyone, for that matter, not on Twitter. Because if it makes it as far as the 6pm news tonight it will be reduced to a 30-second sound byte. And yet Julia Gillard will continue to be slammed for her ‘gender wars’ speech a day ago.

I will be amazed and disappointed if any woman with a brain can have the lack of self-respect to vote for these Liberal arseclowns come September 14.

I’m amazed a woman as smart as Julie Bishop can bear the cognitive dissonance working with said arseclowns must inflict on her psyche every day.

What the actual fuck has happened to our politics??

A woman of calibre? Yeah, bite me, Tony

In feminism, oxygen thieves, politics on May 8, 2013 at 8:00 am

I do wonder just what the Leader of the Opposition means by ‘a woman of calibre’. To what, exactly, should I be aspiring?

Clearly, Mrs LOTO is the most obvious role model I should be emulating. Must be. TAbbott wouldn’t have married a woman who lacked calibre, would he?

Should I convert to Catholicism, I wonder? Perhaps join the Young Liberals?

Gosh, maybe I need to boost my educational credentials. Try for that Rhodes Scholarship?

Get my virginity surgically restored? Renounce my sexuality? Join a convent?

Shut my mouth? Cross my legs? Walk three paces behind?

Fuck you, Tony Abbott. Fuck you and the 18th century misogynistic foxhole you crawled out of.

I heart Nancy Pelosi

In fail, feminism, oxygen thieves, politics, video on November 16, 2012 at 9:38 pm

Watch as a totally clueless young male reporter gets schooled on the gentle art of gender politics.

Why doesn’t Mitch McConnell ever get asked that question?

Dear Leisel Jones …

In feminism, london, media, sport on July 25, 2012 at 1:22 pm

UPDATE: Wrote this just in time to be quoted directly on Carol Duncan’s story on ABC Newcastle. Thanks Carol, and for the attribution and the link to the blog. You rock!! YAY!!

As I sit here, gnawing on my fourth deep fried chicken wing for the day and contemplating a pack of Chocolate Wheatens for dessert, I feel I should weigh in (sorry!) on the brouhaha that emerged along with the above photo of you at training in London overnight.

Now, given that I weigh about a billion kilos and would struggle to rise from the bottom to the top of the pool, let alone plough my way along it several times, I feel I should tell you that, personally, I would kill for your thighs. The media, including a bunch of pundits who’ve probably never pulled on a Speedo, would have us believe that you’re overweight and in no shape to be swimming at the Olympics.

Oh, they’ll say it nicely … ‘To the untrained eye she doesn’t look like a typical elite athlete’ said Tory Maguire on The Punch today. All while trying to tell us the kerfuffle isn’t about body image but about whether an elite athlete is ready to represent their country while subsidised by the Australian taxpayer’s hard-earned.

Codswallop. Of course it’s about body image. It’s why female swimmers get buckets of sponsorship and female shotputters don’t.

Bollocks to that.

Leisel, you’re in London because you swam fast enough to qualify. Your coach has said you need to shave a couple of seconds off your times to be competitive and I’m sure you’re doing what you have to do to get that work done in the week or so left before you swim in anger.

I don’t give a rat’s arse what you look like doing it.

Because I know one thing — the media and punditry will suddenly not give a damn about the size of your thighs or the thickness of your waist if you end up on the podium, or break a record.

And right there is the pure hypocrisy of this debate.

Pay no attention to it, Leisel. Give it your best shot.

Aahhhh humour

In cartoons, feminism, funny on July 16, 2012 at 9:40 pm

Impeccable Sauce.

The things we do for love …

In evolution, feminism on April 18, 2012 at 1:07 am

Impeccable Sauce.

Chris Brown … I. Just. Don’t. Get. It.

In feminism, oxygen thieves on April 14, 2012 at 2:28 am

So, Chris Brown is on the Gold Coast. I spent part of my professional day creating a gallery of pics of Mr Brown cavorting like a … well, like what he is — a young man on the ride of his life, partying, revelling in the power a celebrity of his kind wields.

Part of that job meant reading comments and Facebook statuses and Twitter feeds in response to our gallery and story.

Here are two comments from females I happen to know reasonably well. I thought they would have gotten it.

1. “So hot!”

2. “Chris Brown is a big name and no matter his past draws a crowd! He is a sensational showman :)”

I just. Don’t. Get. It.

Look, I understand the psychology of why a woman who is beaten by the man she loves might stay with him or go back to him. I understand that there are women who’s concept of self-worth is so minute that they might think any love is more than they deserve, and better than being alone. A man who apologises between beatings is at least better than a man who doesn’t bother saying sorry, right?

But I flat out do not understand the mentality that drives women and teenagers to worship before a man they know to have beaten another woman.

I could care less if Chris Brown — or anyone of his ilk — is talented, or good-looking, or rich, or smart or any one of a million other attributes. Nothing would compel me to put money in his pocket. Nothing.

Actually, nothing much would compel me to be polite.

Where are the mothers of these young women? Where are the feminist role models today? Where THE FUCK is the self-respect?

Help me understand, Interwebs.

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