Women as Prey or Freddie's Girls

I just watched CSI's 200th episode.  It starts with a young, blond woman running from a pursuer.  At the end of the scene, she falls down twice because she becomes fixated on her pursuer.  The second fall, she simply lays down and waits for her pursuer, who is at least 3 or 4 seconds behind her.

What year is it people?  Last I checked, it was the beginning of the second decade of the 21st century, and woman are still being portrayed on television and in the movies as victims.  Me, I'm a woman, if someone's chasing me, I keep running until I get away, or get caught, I ain't waitin' around for Freddie Krugger to come and kill me.  And another thing I'm not doing, I'm not making (clearly audible) whimpering noises, otherwise known as prey noises.  I don't know when it was that we, as women, were socialized (taught) to be prey.  I musta missed that day.  I gotta say, if some guy, twice my size, is trying to kill me, I'm looking for the piece of re-bar, or a rock, or whatever, cause this girl ain't nobody's prey.  And I gotta say, I don't know too many women who's survival instinct is so weak, they wait around for the monster (or husband or boyfriend) to kill them.

The sad fact that some women get so beaten down by a boyfriend or husband and made dependant that they actually believe that it's better take the beating, and get it over with, and get on with the making up.  Some call that 'paying before playing'.  Love is a beautiful thing.but, sometimes it makes us delusional, we look at a monster and see a prince.  For some women, it's about believing that they can fix their man.  I'm not judging anyone.  The truth is, as someone who's spent most of her adult life studying psychology, I try to understand.

My wish, that media (tv and film) portray a more enlightened view of women.

What is a human, and how did we come to be us?

Only 1.5% of our DNA actually makes us human.  So, why do we carry around the other 98.5%.  Basically, to give us a spinal cord, 2 arms, 2 legs, with a head on top, sporting 2 eyes, 2 ears, a nose, and a mouth.  But, where did that 'extra', or junk, DNA come from?  Straight-up evolution?  Can't be substantiated.  From where then?  The same way Neanderthals (and all other human-like specimens) disappeared from the earth, interbreeding.

There was a time, when nearly every other species on this planet had a representative sub-species which was compatible enough with the proto-human of the time, and, quite likely, bipedal.  That's the way it was.

Don't believe me, or believe something else, prove me wrong.  That is the essence of the scientific method: propose a theory (hopefully that you, the scientist, believe in) and test it, prove or disprove it.  But, for what it's worth, I believe (and have believed for most of my life) this theory to be true, and self-evident.  As I said, I welcome the scientific community to test my theory.  I've wanted that for as long as I've believed it, in fact.

The Academy's (Long Overdue) Gift to Female Filmmakers

On Sunday evening, 7 March 2010, a woman, Kathryn Bigelow, won the Best Director (as well as the Best Picture) Oscar for a film called The Hurt Locker.  This, as it turned out, was a historic event.  No woman, in the long history of the Academy Awards, had ever won a Best Director Oscar.  Why?  Had no woman ever directed a movie before?  No, obviously not.  Although, reportedly, it is more difficult for a female director to garner funding`, or financing, for a film project, especially if the movie is a major project, with much tech.  I've also been told, it's nearly impossible for a woman to be hired as the director of a major studio movie, unless they can secure rights to a project (such as a novel or stage play) AND secure independent funding (or fund it themselves, out-of-pocket).

So, what does Miss Bigelow's Oscar win mean for her?  Hopefully, it will mean that she can fund her next project, far more easily.

So what does Miss Bigelow's Oscar win mean for other female filmmakers?  Hopefully, it will make it much easier for other female filmmakers to be taken seriously, and give them greater access to funding/financing.  It should also make it easier for woman to become film and television directors and producers.

Just a few thoughts on, what I believe to be, a very long overdue event in entertainment history.  I welcome comments from my audience, as always.

Joys of having to use a wheelchair, part 1

I use a power wheelchair to get around. It's a lovely thing. First, I'll tell you how I wound up in my chair. It's not that my story's all that different, it's just that it's a screw-up from start to finish. First, I nicked the back of my left heel while shaving my legs. Happens occasionally. What comes next is not straightforward. The heel became infected (cellulitis), about 3 weeks later, and my family physician misdiagnosed it. My foot and ankle were swollen, tender, and hot to the touch. As for me, I've never had an infection before, so I had no idea what to look for. Then the skin split and became ulcered, after about 6 days. My doctor told me to go to the ER. That was Thursday afternoon, so I 'm told. I have no memory of anything until late the following Sunday evening (more than 72 hours), that's how septic I'd become. I was admitted to hospital and treated for Staph Arius (aka Mercer) bacteria, with various IV antibiotics and surgical debridement. Then I was sent home with oral antibiotics. After a couple of weeks, I was taken off the antibiotics. A couple of weeks later, at a follow-up appointment with the surgeon, I was in worse pain, now in the bottom of the heel bone. Initially she blew it off. Her resident however, asked for more details. I was referred to an orthopaedic surgeon. More surgery followed. The Orthopaedic surgeon did not attend. His resident operated, though I'm not certain what he did. Because when I challenged the Orthopaedic about his non-attendance, he denied it and refused to describe the surgery. Other things occurred, like me dying (several times, I'm told),at least it wasn't terminal. The punchline, the orthopaedic was so petulant, he cut me off my nursing care, so the IV antibiotics had to be stopped (several weeks early, I'm told). At any rate, 4 years after my last surgery, my left foot is still not right (it seems to have become arthritic), including a lot of pain. Oh and because I've been in the chair, I've gained a great deal of weight (a reality my doctor refuses to deal, or help, with).

A new home for my thoughts

Hi. My name's Jade. Well, actually it's Jessica Jade. But my friends call me JJ. You can check out my website @ www.jadescribe.media.officelive.com (a site I use to promote my novels) or my other Blog site @ http://jadescribe.wordpress.com (a site for me to blog about ideas). This site is for me to blog about whatever else floats into my twisted little mind.

Just so's you know, my novels (at least The Guardian Angel Saga, my first of 4 series) are quite unusual. The stories are basically psychological suspense (mostly chasing down serial killers). Of course, there's always the political intrigue, for aroma; a sentient computer program--- a NiCCO (basically an android, without the body) --- our science fiction element, for flavor; and last, but certainly not least, the lead character is an Angelic, as well as an Immortal, our nod to fantasy (or is that wish fulfillment), for color.

Well, now that I've taken care of business, there's me. I'm 48, university-educated, I've writing since I was 8, and playing, and working, with computers since 1974. Back then computers filled a whole floor of an office building (and the tape library usually filled the basement, often many basements. I initially learned to program in WatFIV (a version of Fortran), then Cobol on a DEC, and about 15 or 16 other programming languages, 4 or 5 other computer systems (with their own proprietary operating system), and of course there was knowing Spanish and German, and a little Russian and very very little French (after all, i did grow up and go to school in Canada). Many times I thought I should put stoppers in my ears to keep the stuff from dribbling out.

Well that, as they say, is that. More than you'd ever want to know about yours truly. And, until we again come together, to explore the hidden recesses of my twisted little mind, I'll bid you adieu.