Your Word of the Day: Objectification

I need to start channeling Lemmy. Even though he's still alive. I'd probably better ask his permission first, though.

OBJECTIFICATION

to present as an object, especially of sight, touch, or other physical sense; make objective; externalize.

Leave it to Lemmy to say perfectly what I've been trying to find the words for during the past five years. I think I'll just have him do my writing from now on. It would turn out so much cooler.

In this interview, which you should, of course, read, Lemmy laid it on the line. And I jumped up and down and screamed "Yes! Can I get an A-fucking-men in here?"

And then I proceeded to feel like a bit of an ass. Because this is what I've been trying to impart all along and didn't know how. Of course Lemmy is talking about the objectification of women in rock and I'm talking about the objectification of one person (man) in particular, but we'll get to that in just a moment. First, here's Lemmy.

Punk News:

You're known as a great lover of women, but you're also known as a great lover of women in rock music. You've been very vocal of your support of Joan Jett, Skin of Skunk Anansie, and many others. In punk rock, it seems there is a disconnect between appreciating a woman's talents and appreciating her attractiveness. Can one appreciate a female musician's attractiveness without objectifying her?

Lemmy:

  Well, why the fuck can't you do it? Is that impossible? There are certainly people who have an axe to grind. Someone might be bitching about it, but I don't care. I never objectified women. I've always been honest. I treat people as I expect to be treated. Women, they're the same as me with tits. If they want to be crazy, well that's all right because I'm a little crazy myself, sometimes. If they want to play rock music, that's great, because I like to play rock music, too. You should treat people the way you like to be treated. If it's good art, then it's good art. Shit, I like women.

So, what does this have to do with a certain attitude by a certain subset of people regarding a certain person? (Who is not Lemmy, for those late-comers to the party.)

The fact that they're dehumanizing the guy--reducing him to an object of lust, rather than seeing him as a multifaceted individual: talented, troubled, intelligent, tragic, inquisitive, clever--all of those things that he was are brushed by the wayside because certain women saw the fellow as fuck-worthy.

And it drives me fucking ape shit that these women are that damn shallow--particularly regarding a person whose life was extremely troubled and ended in a tragic and violent fashion.

It's not that I'm saying one can't recognize that the guy was physically attractive. But have a little fucking respect!

The following narrative does not bother me. It is a paraphrase of what one person, with whom I'm still in occasional contact, said.

"When I was reading the book (The Unholy Tome That Shall Not Be Mentioned) I realized that his fate was inevitable. It was tragic and I wanted somehow to stop it from happening. He was so bright and so talented, and hell, he was a good-looking bloke, but whatever, that really makes no difference in the matter. It was a horrible, sad end to an unhappy life. It all seems such a waste."

Absolutely. Spot on, too right, well said, you'll get no argument from me.

But conversely, there were those who brought the pervy dungeon fantasies, the pervy graveyard fantasies, the pervy mortuary fantasies, the pervy mausoleum fantasies, the pervy church fantasies, the pervy black mass fantasies, and I developed this nasty tic in my eye reading so much poorly written porn. But until now, I had no words for why said poorly written porn bothered me so much. Yes, it was in poor taste, and I sure as hell would never email a complete stranger telling them the fantasies I was having about some dude, especially one who was no longer in the world. But I had no explanation for my revulsion that made good sense, until now.

It bothers the fuck out of me that these women were objectifying someone who had such a troubled life.

He was more than his looks, for fuck's sake.

He was also more than his talent as a writer and performer.

He was a human being.

He deserves better than to be treated as if his emotions and experiences are meaningless.

So now I finally have the words.

Thanks, Lemmy.

Thus, I leave you all with this. Lemmy also talks about this song in the Punk News interview. Enjoy!

One more time, with lyrics!

Lyrics | Motorhead lyrics - Orgasmatron lyrics

Kind Wishes

Rats--I got so involved in making the fun post on one of the wacko-crazy blogs yesterday and trying to catch up on sleep. The zombie needs its sleep! I've been so sleep deprived that I've been having those exhaustion hallucinations over the past three days. I usually see animals but there's something about them that marks them as not quite real. Such as the fact that there should not be a drooling devil dog on my coffee table. At least the last time I checked I didn't own a devil dog!
At any rate, in my state of confusion, I forgot to mention that yesterday was the anniversary of my co-author's birthday. When I first met him he was so painfully lonely and damaged. He hated the birthday anniversary. Now he has become much calmer about it. I'm not saying this is due to me as such, but I think being able to express himself creatively and having the hope that he can impart certain messages that are very important to him has allowed him to examine the things that troubled him and to begin healing. He still has things he want to say and he still has issues, (unlike me, who is completely balanced and absolutely perfect! ;-p) but he isn't nearly so needful, and he isn't in a constant state of psychological anguish any more. And while wounds that caused the kind of psychological pain he suffered can never completely go away, one might say that his at least seem to be scarring over. He is much calmer and more able to see his gifts and focus his energies.
What I really think is that we helped each other. Since meeting him and having the benefit of his kindness and friendship, I've been able to stop cutting myself when I get upset and to address why I might do such a thing. It's taken a long time but I've been able to stop beating up on myself as much for my flaws too. We've both got a long way to go but have come a long way too.
It's rare to find a friend like this on one's journey, but although this is a somewhat unconventional friendship I count myself very fortunate to have found this one. Sometimes such a friend doesn't come along even once in a lifetime. He may not have an age progression that shows on a visible face because he isn't visible to most of us most of the time any more, but he has matured greatly in the two and a half years that I've known him. And I'll say it loud and proud and not give a crap what anyone thinks.
If you've been lurking here, you already know I claim to have written a book with a ghost. And if you're still here, you either believe it's so, you believe it could be so, you believe that I have a right to believe its so even if you aren't sure it could be so, or you are in some other way a tolerant person and for this we thank you.
It may have been his birthday anniversary, but I think I'm the one that got the present of having such a unique person as my friend. The book never could have been without him. My wish for him is that he will continue to heal and grow.
And my wish for me, which I hope isn't selfish, is that I can always be friends with him from now on.
My deepest respects and warmest wishes to my co-author and friend on the 39th anniversary of his birthday. Young whippersnapper! Just wait till you get over 40 and things start spontaneously falling off--or ceasing to function properly--or turning gray...oh yeah, that doesn't happen to ghosts.
Which, we would like to remind you all, is NOT a reason to commit suicide. Although he has accepted his lot and is trying to come to terms with why he made such a decision, one of his purposes is to try and stop others from making the same decision. He (and every other ghost I've met that committed suicide) would be fine with dealing with all the bothers of bodily aging if they could have a second chance. But things don't work that way.
Fortunately he seems blind to how old and dilapidated I am. Or he might just be tempted to find a shovel and try to bury me!
Like me, this post is really deteriorating. So let's wrap this thing and leave it with good wishes for my unusual and unique co-author. Who says that he's glad I changed the adjectives I was using to describe him, because if I described him as "fabulous" two things would happen: first his wrists would go limp and second, he would vomit on me.
Well...at least I know I'm not dealing with an imposter!
Blessings and good wishes,
Lily