Teju Cole on the term “First World Problems”

“I don’t like this expression “First World problems.” It is false and it is condescending. Yes, Nigerians struggle with floods or infant mortality. But these same Nigerians also deal with mundane and seemingly luxurious hassles. Connectivity issues on your BlackBerry, cost of car repair, how to sync your iPad, what brand of noodles to buy: Third World problems. All the silly stuff of life doesn’t disappear just because you’re black and live in a poorer country. People in the richer nations need a more robust sense of the lives being lived in the darker nations. Here’s a First World problem: the inability to see that others are as fully complex and as keen on technology and pleasure as you are.”

 

– Teju Cole

 

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An arrow in the recreation yard at Camp Delta, Naval Station Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, points the direction to Mecca, the Islam holy city, so the detainees know which way to face if the call to prayer sounds while they are outside. Every cell and recreation yard has similar arrows.

Former Vogue editor: The truth about size zero

Former Vogue editor: The truth about size zero

Society is understandably concerned about the issues surrounding body image and eating disorders, and the dangerous and unrealistic messages being sent to young women via fashion journals. When it comes to who should be blamed for the portrayal of overly thin models, magazine editors are in the direct line of fire, but it is more complex than that. The “fit” model begins the fashion process: designer outfits are created around a live, in-house skeleton. Few designers have a curvy or petite fit model. These collections are then sent to the runway, worn by tall, pin-thin models because that’s the way the designer wants to see the clothes fall. There will also be casting directors and stylists involved who have a vision of the type of woman they envisage wearing these clothes. For some bizarre reason, it seems they prefer her to be young, coltish, 6ft tall and built like a prepubescent boy.

The Sexy Lie

From the video’s description on YouTube:

A leading advocate for spotlighting how the mainstream media contributes to the underrepresentation of women in positions of power and influence in America, Caroline Heldman offers straight talk and an often-startling look at the objectification of women in our society. She illustrates how it has escalated, how we have become inured to its damaging effects and what we can do individually and collectively to demolish the paradigms that keep us from a better world.

You’re Not A Nice Guy (“Feminazi Stole My Ice Cream”)

From the creator, Scott Benson:

A quick editorial cartoon about the intersection of self-pity, entitlement, rape, territoriality, misogyny and fear of women. You see it all over the place online in the form of Men’s Rights Activists (of whom there are a few reasonable non-misogynists), Men Going Their Own Way, Pick Up Artists, and dudes touting the “Red Pill”, because The Matrix is a good movie. Look any of these up if you have the stomach for it. These are extreme examples, but watered-down forms of these ideas are everywhere.

In lurking their blogs and youtube channels for a while, I’ve noticed that beyond the standard patriarchal chauvinism there is this deep fear of women – what they will do to me, how they will reject me, how they will use me, how they are changing society in a way that does not favor me, how they are making men into something I don’t like, how they are making themselves into something I don’t like, that they won’t give me what I want, and that they won’t give me what I think is rightfully mine. This goes beyond fear of feminism- this is fear of women at its purest. And that, to quote a puppet, leads to anger and hate. It’s sad.

I am a feminist. I think there’s enough ice cream to go around, but it does mean those of us with 3 scoops might have to give one or two up. Also, The Matrix is a fun movie but probably not anything you should be basing a philosophy on.

 

You can read more about the dialogue around this video, facilitated by Benson, here. You can enjoy his tumblr here and his vimeo page here.

An Open Letter To A Select But Not Small Group Of American Political Commentators Who Will Not Read This:

Being a journalist or a pundit with the privilege to be able to voice your opinions, however risky, burdens you with the moral imperative to a) hold your own government accountable for every immoral, illegal, or imbecilic action it commits or openly intends to commit and to b) thoroughly educate yourself on the historical context and political nuances of a foreign country’s present situation before delivering commentary (that erases the imperial crimes of your own government).  

Hey (group of mostly middle class white men),

I’m feeling, along with billions of other people all over the place, very voiceless and frustrated these days and you’re not helping much. I’m glad that you’ve become momentarily interested in this week’s Twitter Trending Topic (i.e. massive Egyptian political protest and Morsi’s ousting), but the tone you’ve chosen to discuss these events makes me more than a little ticked off. I’m going to explain two main sources of my disdain for your commentary, and then I’m going to make sure you understand what I’m not saying, and then I’m going to explain what I want you to do (as opposed to what you’re doing right now).

One phrase you group of chest-puffing, hubris-smoking pundits have been using generously is “a setback for democracy.” You think this thing is a “setback for democracy,” and this other thing is also a “setback for democracy.”

Okay, forgive me for my love of acknowledging historical context (when it comes to discussing politics), but you know what was an *unparalleled* setback for democracy in Egypt? The fact that your government, by that I mean the government of America, Land of the Free and Spied-On, was a key force in the maintenance of Mubarak’s brutal, thieving, and very long dictatorial rule. It wasn’t that Bush and Mubarak, or Obama and Mubarak, occasionally sent each other cute texts for support in times of crisis. The U.S. has a vested and destructive interest in Egypt (see: Suez Canal, Israel as a neighbor, etc.) and America’s role in Egypt is not separable from the rampant poverty, infrastructural problems, etc. in Egypt. And when Mubarak fell in 2011, it wasn’t as though Egypt suddenly recovered and should have gotten a great democracy running smoothly without pause. The effects of those decades are still here and they are worsening (why do you think millions of people were on the streets protesting?).

So here’s one source of my anger: Every time you use the phrase “a setback for democracy” without acknowledging the symptoms of the neocolonial poison that your government is so very responsible for, you reinforce undying implications that the lack of healthy, pluralist democracy in the Middle East (or in any majority-colored country) is solely the result of a fundamental savagery and/or backwardness, rather than acknowledging the fact that the West has a very long history of ensuring that “setbacks for democracy” keep happening in places that are not the West. Please remember that in America, democracy is something to be downright revered at home, but destroyed and/or subverted in “foreign” countries where and when it suits U.S. interests (this is not unique, necessarily, to America, but seems to be something that superpowers do based on what little history I know). When you don’t acknowledge this, your political analysis will never be accurate and only reinforces ever-present imperialist attitudes toward the Middle East which is the kind of thinking that in the worst cases justifies bombing people all the way to “liberation” and “democratization.”

Here’s another source of my anger and frustration: You know too well that in the Western-favoring hegemonic construct your voices are going to receive a lot more attention/traction than a lot of Egyptian voices. Why use it to pimp bad commentary? Why not interview and amplify the voices of the Egyptian protesters, who can know things that you cannot from your perch at your laptop? Why not use your privilege to get the West, for once, to engage in legitimate, mainstream dialogue WITH the Middle East, as opposed to AT the Middle East? Remember that one time you got that incredibly intelligent Yemeni boy (whose village was targeted and hit by a drone) to testify to Congress about the deadly and counterproductive effects of drone strikes in Yemen, and in about 15 minutes he peacefully and calmy explained to you EVERYTHING that is wrong with U.S. drone strikes? WE NEED MORE OF THAT. Dialogue (that is balanced and not racist) is the ONLY way to dismantle imperialism and exploitation in a non-violent way. As a vehement opposer of any and all violence, especially when wielded mercilessly by an imperial power with a neoliberal agenda, I BEG YOU TO HELP ME FACILITATE GOOD DIALOGUE. For real, I would be on my knees if I weren’t already comfortable in my quasi-cushy desk chair.

Now, here’s what I’m not saying: That events in Egypt, and everything that takes place in Egypt, whether good or bad, is directly the effect of American influence (I repeat: I do NOT think this).

I think that American influence needs to be accounted for by you, in no uncertain terms, and by that same token I think that Egyptians need to take their fair share of responsibility in terms of holding their government accountable when it fails to protect their interests. While Egyptians must hold themselves and their government accountable (rigorously), you must hold YOURS accountable for its misdeeds. That is not an option: that is YOUR JOB. You are supposed to be journalists and analysts. But until you get it together and indulge in some actual professionalism by understanding Egyptian history and politics and America’s role in all of it, you’re nothing more than gossip queens discussing the new hot couple.

So here’s what I want: If you’re going to continue to comment on MENA politics, it’s inexcusable for you to not have a thorough understanding of the region’s history. A good way to know whether or not you really know what you’re talking about is if you only use the terms “Middle East” and “MENA” ironically, for example (that’s an inside joke with the subaltern blogosphere, humor me). Understand the effects of colonialism (past, post and neo), of the drive toward Western-molded modernization (a.ka. embracing neoliberalism), and try to actually listen to subaltern voices. Spivak once famously said, “Can the subaltern speak?” Well, the subaltern has been speaking, but you’re not listening, so start for heaven’s sake. (“Everything that needs to be said has already been said, but since no one was listening, everything must be said again.” – André Gide).

Here’s what I promise: Once I myself completely (or as much as I possible can) educate myself on Egypt and its neighbors, I will likely do nothing for the rest of my life other than rigorously hold Egyptian governments accountable for every crappy, idiotic, unjust, and inhumane thing they do (as a dual citizen of Egypt and Canada). While I do that, and while other Egyptians are already doing that, you hold your own accountable. Enough with the hubris, enough with the thinly veiled orientalism, and enough with the overnight evolutions into self-proclaimed “Middle East” experts.

A Love Letter to Muslim Fathers

Love, InshAllah

‘Love InshAllah‘ editor Ayesha Mattu writes a love letter to Muslim fathers on Father’s Day. Originally published by The Huffington Post.

For every stereotype about Muslim women, there are as many about Muslim men.

Muslim men are boxed in between the angry terrorist and rampaging, honor killing father with no space in between for nuance or celebration. And yet, there is a disconnect between these extreme depictions of Muslim men and what I — and most other American Muslim women I know — have experienced directly.

All of my life, Muslim men — from my father to my uncles, from my cousins to my friends — are the ones who have nurtured, supported and protected me. They’ve cheered every success, inspired me to push higher with my personal and professional ambitions, and believed in me even when — especially when — I did not believe in myself.

I’m…

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Kanye and Camus

Above: Kanye’s performance of “Black Skinhead” on SNL.

“I’m aware I’m a king.” 

“I am a God.”

Two lyrics from Kanye’s album Yeezus. The first from “Black Skinhead,” the second from “I Am A God.”

The anger, resentment, pride in the face of degradation, egomania that poses a threat to the white-supremacist ego, and skillfully articulated energy that informs Kanye’s “Yeezus” makes it a special pleasure to devour repeatedly. My favorite track from the album is “Black Skinhead,” with beats so powerful it reminded me of a famous quote from Albert Camus:

“The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion.”

In a world where black men in America are frisked, imprisoned and shot because their bodies have been stamped with supposed criminality before they make their first decisions as children, there is an unambiguous, silent statement that colored bodies are less deserving of the space they take up. And if a colored person takes up space that makes the white-dominant sphere uncomfortable, it is very likely they will be looked at with suspicion, hostility – feelings that too often become a a child’s death or an adult’s humiliation.

In this now Yeezus-blessed world, Kanye not only takes up the tenuous space that he rightly deserves; he lethally, artistically, fearlessly dares you to try and police him. When Kanye declares “I am a God” or “I’m aware I’m a king,” he’s not just indulging in the great American pastime of individualism as megalomania: he’s laughing in the face of the idea that his body, his person is not the dominant one. What many mistake as base egomania is more accurately described as an expression of unchecked freedom put to a rebellious, energizing beat. In a sphere that didn’t give him the White privilege to play God, Kanye, through Yeezus, grabbed us by the jaw, and, laughing at our surprise, he turned our eyes to his, and, in no uncertain terms, took that privilege.

As Teju Cole recently wrote, “Always be humble. Unless you’re non-white or female or disabled or queer (you’ve already had your turn).”