Thoughts On Purity Rings And The Concept Of Virginity

   I largely consider myself to be a feminist. Among the gender-related issues that feminism explores, gender roles and sexuality play a large part. So, the concept of virginity and purity rings, with regards to how society views them, is something I have been thinking about for a good amount of time. 

   Much like a decent handful of other American girls, I was raised in a Christian household, more specifically a Roman Catholic household, and also attended Catholic school (AKA hell on earth) for nine years of my childhood. Now, being brought up in this background meant that I was exposed to a bunch of religious traditions, many of which were divided in terms of gender. For the most part, the Catholic church has tried to merge gender roles over the past few decades, speaking in a more collective sense of community and promoting both men and women as followers of Christ instead of just putting the men on a pedestal like other monotheistic religions have done and still tend to do. But it was only after I moved away from Catholicism that I realized how many of the traditions were still rooted in harmful sexism. And one of the weirdest traditions was not really a tradition, but more of a "Christian fad" if you will: the purity ring. 

   For those of you who don't know (I'll assume you were raised in a liberal household), purity rings are silver bands given to young girls that are basically a declaration of how they will hold onto their virginity until marriage. Usually, they are given from fathers to their daughters. Initially, this wouldn't be an issue for me. But considering the problem I have with the entire social construct of "virginity", I have realized how much I disagree with this concept, especially after seeing how girls would walk around with them and claim to be "pure" when their lives made this type of statement a complete hypocrisy. I am referring to the fact that there are still many girls who translate "purity" to mean "good" or "free of fault", not sexually abstinent. It was an act of moral high ground, if you will, pitting the "pure" girls against the "dirty" girls by activating their internalized misogyny through slut-shaming (AKA the exact opposite of feminism). Purity rings have become more of a social status than based in actual faith or Catholic integrity, but that doesn't make them any less creepy. 

   Now, as a disclaimer, I am not outright insulting or degrading any woman who wants to wear one (I'll be honest: my sister wears one herself). If that's your choosing and your parents didn't push you into it, go right ahead. I do, however, have a few observations regarding this "manifestation of morality" if you will. 

   One: the idea that daughters pledge themselves to their fathers is inherently sexist because it treats women as property. I get that fathers want to protect their daughters from being taken advantage of. But at the same time, locking her up in an ivory tower until marriage will not stop the world from getting in. If anything, it will make her more curious and more likely to act deviant. And yes, although many of the pro-purity ring people argue that it is the girls, not the dads, who usually bring up the topic of "pledging their purity", in reality it disempowers them because it appears that a man still "owns" your right to have sex, so basically he owns your body like an object. (Yes, I see an abortion argument branching off of this, but let's stay focused here.) And this only ensures that our culture will continue to be stuck in Biblical times. 

   Two: Virginity is in itself a harmful, sexist, and even dangerous social construct. By insinuating that a woman somehow has less value once she has been "used", it further promotes the chauvinist concept of viewing women as property, as something to be owned, bought, and sold like livestock. And I'm sure that you are just as infuriated as I am that this concept still fucking exists. In many Middle Eastern countries, this concept is so widespread that women engaging in premarital sex (or otherwise missing their hymen) are literally paying for operations to restore their hymen in order to avoid any legal action against them, or even severe punishment or death, in case their husband discovers that he didn't get what his father-in-law paid for him to take off of his hands. Nevermind that some girls are born without a hymen. Nevermind that you can break it by something as simple as putting in a tampon or riding a bike. I guess that women who are forced to conform to this kind of sexism should learn that it is their responsibility to make sure men are properly satisfied with the "goods" that the women also have no say in whatsoever. Screw having control over your own body: that shit is public property, you vagina-with-a-head! Don't you know that?? 

   Three: There still exists the major divide in the sexual roles between men and women. Why are purity rings and abstinence stressed for girls, but not for boys? Sure, purity rings exist for guys, but can you name any teenage boy that you have ever seen wearing one? Unless you live in Utah or Colorado, probably not. I mean, we had plenty of boys in the youth group at my church and I never saw a single one of them wear a purity ring. But when it came to the girls in my church? Hell, they were all over the place. And it is here that I present another issue: men are promoted as the conquerers, the dominant gender, the ones who are expected to sleep with as many girls as possible to maintain a high social status. The girls are required to be submissive, conforming, but also pure and innocent. How do those concepts coincide? If the girls are supposed to remain pure, then who are all those boys supposed to have sex with? Well, obviously a woman, because she has to put out at some point to avoid being called a prude. But as soon as that happens, oh no: she's suddenly a slut! And if any of this sexism makes you mad, well then I guess you shouldn't have been born a woman! That's your own damn fault, apparently; shame on you for having no control over whether or not you are born with a penis!

   Again, I don't really care if you get a purity ring. Honestly, I don't. I have no control over your life, and I don't desire any. If you approach your father with this idea and really feel that you want to maintain control over your own body by not having sex, then that's your choice and I respect that. If you are a father, I understand that you want to protect the one you love. But the sexist roots of this concept, and the construct of virginity itself, is what I have an issue with. I have an inherent problem with women only being valued if she doesn't have the chance or freedom to explore her sexuality or evaluate any other options beyond pure abstinence, and these rings are symbols of that concept. If women are to truly be free to make their own decisions about their own bodies, then they have to learn independence when they are young. Whether or not a young girl views virginity as being moral high ground is her prerogative, but this somewhat still stems from the concept of her being viewed as property. Empowerment can only occur if progress is made through the reconstruction of societal norms, and progress does not derive from following inherently sexist or harmful traditions. In short, women should be allowed to understand that they have control over their own body, and even if they choose to remain abstinent, whether or not they maintain their virginity does not make them any more or less of a human being. The stress should be on choice, not on pressuring girls to conform to supposed cultural expectations in accordance with the widespread fetish with sexual purity. It's her body, it's her choice; give her the right to say so.

"Jurassic World" Film Review

   When it comes to remakes and reboots in Hollywood, between being a hit or a miss, the movie released is more-often-than-not a miss. So I did have some reservations going into this movie because I hoped it wouldn't be just another corporate cashgrab. But as it turns out, I was pleasantly taken off-guard, because this movie turned out to be surprisingly good. 

   It was comforting to know that Steven Spielberg was onboard with this project from the start even if he didn't direct it, because there was evidence in the film that the cast and crew members understood how fans of the original movie wanted this film to avoid steamrolling Jurassic Park completely or otherwise insult the franchise (especially considering that the other two sequels kind of did that already). The good thing is that this film was able to balance the new material with interesting homages to the first film. Obviously since it's taking place over 20 years after the first movie, Jurassic World has to have its own new identity, but thankfully it does it with enough respect to the original material, and it acts as if it's coexisting with the first film rather than attempting to replace it or somehow "fix" it. And while it was bursting with references to Jurassic Park, the homages came off as entertaining rather than obnoxious or inappropriate, both of which I have witnessed in other films that didn't know how to work with their material quite as well as this one does. 

   With regards to the performances, I believe that for the most part, the actors did a sufficient job. Now, I say sufficient and not amazing because we have seen these characters before: Bryce Dallas Howard is the typical working woman who cares more about her job than her family, Chris Pratt is the rugged  white guy who runs around saving everyone and making sharp comebacks, the older brother is sullen and largely annoyed by his younger brother until the threat of death brings them together, and the younger brother is the innocent kid who is somewhat bullied by the older brother until they learn to work together in the face of danger. And this was a minor problem I had with this movie, especially considering that they're always shoving these cardboard character cutouts in the face of the audience by shoehorning a bunch of exposition. For example, at the moment where Bryce Dallas Howard first goes to speak to Christ Pratt, when she arrives, he is not only fixing his motorcycle, but his response to her first few lines of dialogue are, "Should we continue the conversation here, or…in my bungalow?" And as is typical of her type of character, Bryce Dallas Howard gets mildly irritated and stands with her arms crossed over her perfectly white lab coat and polished high heels. This tone of course carries into the rest of the movie, as it's implied that they had a past relationship but now they have to overcome their differences to work together and save Howard's nephews. And with regards to the boys, they did an alright job. I mean they are child actors so I won't judge them too harshly, but I will say that there were moments between them that felt kind of forced. Like, the point in the movie where the younger brother is running around the park having fun and then for no reason it cuts to him crying next to his brother about how he doesn't want their parents to get a divorce. While I'm not abhorred to the idea of a "parent-divorce" subplot to add some conflict between the brothers (even though it's been done in almost every movie involving children ever), I still think it could've been worked into the narrative in a way that wouldn't have felt so uneven. This is especially considering the fact that the movie had already established Bryce Dallas Howard's character, so that should've created enough conflict between her and her nephews, but I guess the writers felt like throwing in one more character arc just in case they felt they weren't being thorough enough, even if they already had the conflict with regards to the boys being chased and attacked by dinosaurs. 

   But I kind of excused the human characters because in all reality, they are not why people come to see this movie: they come for the dinosaurs. I did think that the concept of a hybrid dinosaur was a smart idea for the story, especially considering that it builds off of the concept of genetic manipulation that we saw in the first movie, but updates it for modern audiences by taking it to the next level. With regards to the design of the new T-Rex, I was only disappointed with how they revealed the new dinosaur in some of the trailers instead of waiting for everyone to be surprised when they saw it in theaters. However, I guess it doesn't make a difference considering that this movie has now broken the record for the biggest opening ever. And in hindsight, this movie really does try its hardest to cater to the fans, which I can respect, and it makes the film more enjoyable. A lot of dinosaurs from the first film showed their faces, but I still think that the unexpected appearance of one dinosaur in particular towards the end of the movie really made the entire film worth watching. I'm not going to explicitly reveal why this moment was probably the best moment of the entire movie, but let me just say that it had my inner Jurassic Park fan squealing pretty hard. They did build up to this moment pretty efficiently and I believe that it made really the impact the filmmakers intended. I did like the pacing of the film, since they were smart enough to keep the action going, and to be honest there weren't too many dull moments. Sure, some of the parts dedicated to clunky character exposition felt a little forced, but not enough to drag down the entire film. Overall it was a lot of fun and it's certainly a decent film to check out. 

Overall rating: 8/10 

"Generation Um" Movie Review

     You know, it's movies like these that remind me why some people hate Keanu Reeves. I, for one, do not; on the contrary, I am usually the one defending him. I thought he was decent in The Matrix, Bill And Ted's Excellent Adventure, and Speed, and now John Wick has appeared to be an attempt to revive his somewhat-laughable filmography. But this film, on the other hand….well, I don't even know if I can call it a film. 

    I will be honest that, much like Dream House, I did not finish watching this turd. The biggest problem it had was this: nothing happens. That is literally the jist of it. I am not saying this because I am trying to be overdramatic in how bad and boring this film is, I am saying it because nothing fucking happens. For an entire hour and a half. Honest to God, nothing. There is no story, there is no character development of any of the people on screen. I couldn't even determine what the main conflict was. The only exposition given at all was that Keanu Reeves drives these two girls home after spending a night drinking with them. They stumble into their apartment, while he goes into his. They crack half-assed jokes while hungover. He feeds his cat. They crack more jokes. He takes a nap, then he wakes up again. The girls drink more. Keanu eats a sandwich.
   Bored yet? Because this, ladies and gentlemen, is the first thirty minutes of the movie. Obviously, it fails to do what all movies must (within the first ten minutes, to be correct): deliver actual exposition, and determine a fucking story! Honestly, where was the story? I had to look it up on Wikipedia to even get a grip on where this film was going, and even the description just said something along the lines of, "a few individuals learn new things about themselves". Yeah, that really narrows it down, right? It's not like this sort of thing happens in every single movie ever made or anything. This blurb is really just a basic dictionary description for the word "story". The problem, however, is that the movie should not be a definition for the word "story", but be an actual goddamn story. Don't tell me what the word means: tell me what it actually is! And this movie does no such thing. It was so pretentious in its delivery that it's as if it was a crappy inside joke written by a sleep-deprived and underpaid intern who later committed suicide after finishing this potato of a screenplay. And by the way, what did the screenplay for this film even look like? I can only guess it was one hundred and twenty pages that were largely blank, save for descriptions of what an average New Yorker would be doing on any given morning. Nothing special or interesting about any of it. Honestly; is this a real movie, or did someone leave the camera on as the actors were taking a break from filming another movie? We aren't given the chance or the resources to care, and quite frankly, we don't want to. I forced myself through thirty minutes of this before turning it off and nowhere in those thirty minutes did I give one ounce of a shit. There is literally nothing about this film that is compelling or intellectually stimulatin,g and quite frankly I think I lost a few brain cells while watching it.
   I believe this review would've been more well-rounded if the film actually possessed a story I could pick apart and analyze appropriately, but it just isn't there. I'm tired of these types of movies where nothing happens. I'm tired of watching a bunch of morose characters that mope around and do jack shit for two hours just to have the director pass it off as "art" simply because it's "edgy" in that they aren't emotionally developed. And for God's sake, I can't believe I sat through a full ten minutes of Keanu Reeves doing nothing except eating a fucking cupcake.
   There is a way to make this "type" of emotionally-repressed art, but other individuals have done it way, way better. Honestly, this movie would have worked if it was marketed as a mockumentary-style presentation of the "Sad Keanu" meme. If you want to waste brain cells more efficiently, please do me a favor and bash your head into the nearest wall several hundred times while listening to Nicki Minaj. Don't waste your time: skip this mess.

   Overall rating: 2.5/10

Artist Spotlight: Hunter S. Thompson

     Hunter S. Thompson is not exactly an individual that comes to mind when we are asked to consider Classical/Parisian Bohemianism. Sure, he wasn't a member of the Algonquin Round Table, or busy taking pictures of Kiki de Montparnasse, but if we were to compile a list of the American Bohemians of the post-WWII era, Thompson would most definitely be on the list, probably next to Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg. 

   Thompson was born in Kentucky to a middle-class family. While still young, the death of his father forced the family to endure poverty, and Thompson was unable to finish highschool. After joining the Air Force, he then turned to journalism (immediately following his subsequent "honorable discharge" from the military). Initially working in Pennslyvania, he then moved to NYC and became a copy boy for Time magazine. Thompson also got into the habit of copying works such as The Great Gatsby and A Farewell To Arms to properly dissect famous styles of writing. After being fired from a job in Middletown, NY (Thompson 139), he moved to Puerto Rico, but the newspaper then folded and he moved back to the States. It was during his time traveling the Southwestern U.S that he published pieces in Rogue magazine and became immersed in the Bohemian culture in Big Sur, California. He also published several novels, including The Rum Diary, and several short stories while in California.   

    His longtime girlfriend Sandra Dawn Conklin soon joined him during a stint in Rio, and they were married an had one son before divorcing after losing five more children. Thompson relocated to Idaho, then San Francisco, where he became caught up in the hippie drug culture. After living (and having a fallout) with the motorcycle group Hell's Angels, Thompson continued to report on the hippies, the convictions of the New Left (Thompson himself was an ardent Socialist and anti-Nixon), and the artistry of the Beat generation. In the 1970's, Thompson settled in Aspen, Colorado and became the pioneer of gonzo journalism (Martin). While in Las Vegas to cover the Mint 400 motorcycle race, a subsequent book called Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas was published, which became Thompson's most famous work and exposed the apparent failure of the 1960's counterculture movement (Woods). The book was further popularized with the release of the film Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas in 1998, starring Thompson's close friend Johnny Depp. 

    After a failed journalism-based trip to Africa and his descent into fiercely criticizing President Nixon, Thompson's work began to suffer, combined with disorganized assignments with Rolling Stone that strained his relationship with the magazine. In the early 2000's, he wrote a short column for ESPN until he died in 2005. His death was a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head. Thompson's private funeral was attended by family and close friends, including Johnny Depp, who shot Thompson's ashes out of a cannon atop a tower with a two-thumbed fist as fireworks exploded and "Spirit In The Sky" played in the background ("Hunter Thompson"). Since his death, Thompson's off-the-wall persona and pioneering of Gonzo journalism have continued to inspire legions of writers. 

     

Sources:

Thompson, Hunter (1998). Douglas Brinkley, ed. The Proud Highway: Saga of a Desperate Southern Gentleman (1st ed.). Ballantine Books.

Martin, Douglas (March 16, 2006). "Bill Cardoso, 68, Editor Who Coined 'Gonzo', Is Dead". The New York Times. Retrieved August 3, 2012.

Woods, Crawford (July 23, 1972). "'Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas'". The New York Times. Retrieved August 3, 2012.

"Hunter Thompson Blown Sky High". Billboard.com. Retrieved July 30, 2010.