Last night while I was waiting out the most intense part of Hurricane Sandy (thus far) with my fellow dormmates our discussions led us down many paths, but inevitably towards the hurricane. And even more specifically to the question of, "why does it seem like the most destructive hurricanes have female names?" The friendly discussion turned to anger and could be summed up in one of Bryn Mawr's favorite sayings, "Death to the Patriarchy!" So I had the intention today of starting my post as a rant that would take a similar route of the discussion I had last night, that is, talking about the seemingly sexist nature of the hurricane naming system. However, I was proved wrong. Upon further investigation and according to Time.com (http://nation.time.com/2012/08/24/the-most-destructive-u-s-hurricanes-of-all-time/) the most destructive US hurricanes seem to be fairly evenly named. The list cited hurricanes Ike, Floyd, Hugo, Charley, Ivan and Andrew as the most destructive hurricanes with masculine names and hurricanes Opal, Jeanne, Frances, Camille, Besty, Agnes, Rita, Katrina, and Wilma. According to this list, 6 out of the 15 most destructive hurricanes have masculine names, or 40%. Feminine named hurricanes make up the other 60%. While these numbers are skewed towards the feminine named hurricanes it still does not show the huge gap that I was anticipating. Add Sandy to that list and the ratio is more like 37.5% male and 62.5% female, which widens the gap, but by much.

In light of this recent weather event, I have been reflecting on the tragic v comic duality we discussed some classes ago. Many I know attended hurricane "parties" or had mini campouts in their rooms with friends to ride out the storm. Is this a tragic or comic reaction? Were they grouping together in the unlikely event that we all met our untimely demise, to band together in a time of crisis (in the tragic view)? Or was it a comic impulse to make the most of a free night off school and make light of the potential severity of the storm? I am inclined to think the latter, but this meterological tradegy caused the impulse. Do most people find that they have comic reactions to tragic events? Alison Bechdel certainly did, when she was aware of the death of her father. Is this normal? What reaction did you have to the storm? Panic? Calm? What did you notice about other or group behavior in the light of potential injury or death? 

A few weeks ago, for class on October ninth, we read three essays by Ursula Le Guin. This was, I know, a frighteningly long time ago. Nevertheless, I am still going to insist on blogging about one of those essays, because I really wish I had brought it up in class.

The essay was “Science Fiction and the Future” (1985). It was, on the whole, a very interesting discussion about how different societies view time. There was a short paragraph relating American views of time (or maybe Western views of time-- Le Guin is a bit vague on whose view it is. She just assumes her reader is a part of the society that views time this way.) to a critique of imperialistic science fiction and a need to, essentially, go with the flow, and not try to conquer the future. Her commentary on these Western views is insightful, and I agree with them. But the way that Le Guin comes to a lot of her insights about Western views of time is through a comparison with the ideas of time that the Quechua-speaking peoples of the Andes,” and the way that she makes that comparison is problematic.

Because I'm interested in making a series of podcasts for my final activism project, I made a podcast for my final webevent.

Attaching the script may actually be the best because it actually holds more content within it than the podcast itself (there way a lottt of editing involved).

Here's the script:

When I first started off with this podcast, I was going to speak about the difference between the stage directions “pause” and “silence” in the play Wating for Godot, but as you can tell, I had a little trouble trying articulate anything meaningful.

I’ve made a couple of recordings and youtube videos in the past, and I want to be able to say that you eventually get used to it—but I can only partially partake in that that claim. 

To be sure, there are a couple of things on that list I’m used to: I’m no longer embarrassed by the way my voice sounds outside my own head, and I’m much more okay with making mistakes on the camera—after all, that’s what editing for.

But without fail, I still fall into the same trap that I think gets a lot of us: the one where you get caught up in each syllable you utter, the amount of air you take in through your lungs, and the weight of each word that leaves your lips.  The trap of being overwhelming self-consciousness about your own vocal speech patterns.

I didn't go into the woods this Monday morning, when I was spending the time curled up cozily in my apartment in Center City, watching the news of the "Frankenstorm," the "monster" Sandy, puzzling over the disconnect between my "hurrication" and the media description of the disaster swirling around me. Ever since mturer put the problematics of representation back on the table (naming hurricanes to make them less threatening?), and froggies315 provided that  "awesome" windmap for comparison with the wierd music videos the Weather channel was using for their live coverage, I've been thinking about ecological literacy (okay, well, just thinking about it more pointedly), wondering what more responsible reporting might look-and-sound like.

I may have found one example in this morning's NYTimes: it's about the enormous oyster beds, built up over 7000 years and now entirely depleted, that once formed underwater reefs around the shores of New York, creating "undulation and contour on the harbor bottom that broke up wave action before it could pound the shore with its full force. Beds closer to shore clarified the water through their assiduous filtration...this allowed marsh grasses to grow, which in turn held the shores together with their extensive root structure."

A portion of the White reading titled "Are you an Environmentalist, or do you work?" that seemed directly relevent to the idea of ecofeminism:

"A man did real work with "God-made animals"; a women could handle machines "with out maring her polished nails." Machines associated with women broke a male connection with female nature, thus creating an almost domestic drama. Clearly for Russell, machines broke the old connections forged by male labor." (181).

Thought this was relevent to our current discussion

5 p.m. Sun, Oct 30: Choose one "thread" to pursue w/ your classmates: How might we revise the remainder of the semester to reflect our shared interests? How do you understand/what questions do you have about the intersection of gender and the environment? (Or: what questions did Spretnak's article on ecofeminism answer or raise for you?) And/or what further conversation would you like to have about our other recent, under-discussed readings (Pollan on weeds, White on working for a living, Carson on pesiticide use)? 

In class on Tuesday, we talked about long-term awareness and short-term decision, with the case of having to use cars when we are being late, knowing that they pollute the environment. Yet many of our decisions depend largely on their specific situations and giving up good intentions is sometimes unavoidable. Carson was true to say "man can hardly even recognize the devils of his own creation." But even when we do recognize them, we have all become too dependent and used to the convenience of modernity to change. Charlene also confirmed it with a claim "the assumption of modernity, the faith in technological "progress" and rapacious industrialism, along with the miltarism necessary to support it, have left us very lost indeed."

However, does it mean that we can never change our habits? I suppose we all are taught that changes evolve from the smallest and simplest action every individual person can take. And gradually, it works all the way up to become a new habit. The essential factors are determination and patience. The greatest hindrance are excuses for procrastination. Personally, I think a good way to start a new habit is to consider it a must or a normal instead of an alternative. If you are late now, use your car this time just as an exception. Instead of using alternatives (such as bike/public transportation) only when you can, tell yourself to use cars when you have to, only as a last resort. What about you? What do think makes changes possible?

I made a video for my third web event: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bN0L1_vP85Q