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amulI seem to have hurt myself, in that spot that they refer to as the Sit Bones in yoga. Maybe I pushed myself too hard earlier this week when I tried to start back up, or maybe I just slept on it funny. I do know that I woke up this morning lying over a completely numb left arm, scrunched under my own body until all circulation was lost.
Whatever I did, and it feels more like a bruise than a strain, like someone had been paddling me in the wrong spot, I hurt it more as I helped load the last boxes of Prefers Sacrifice's things into my car as I drove her to the airport.
She begged me not to cry as I hugged her goodbye at O'Hare, so as I winced into the car, I promised her I would not. Home, then, I decided to park myself in front of the TV and watch all those movies I've been picking up lately. Finding a way to position myself that was not painful was a trick in itself.
I'd been picking up a lot of sexploitation films from the 60s in the Under $5 Bins, as well as my usual fare of horror movies and sci-fi shows. Also, a friend had just given me the second half of Doctor Who season 2, and so I interspersed them, watching the agonizingly slow pace of 60s pieces for as long as I could manage before switching over to something more contemporary.
In such a direct comparison, it's hard not to truly marvel at how far female characters have come in the last 50 years. Early Doctor Who assistants did little more than scream and get in trouble, whereas Rose Tyler, the 9th and 10th Doctor's companion, takes a much more active role, often finding clues that the Doctor completely misses. Also, the very nature of sex scenes has changed radically. Women in these early shows were usually timid in bed, or reactive to a man's desire, ready to serve his hunger for her. Modern shows, especially sci-fi shows (or perhaps just because that's the fare I've been consuming) equalize the desire, showing men approaching relationships with the same degree of hunger and fear as women do, each always strongly affected by all those who have tread so carelessly on their hearts before.
And, as a side note, it's really nice to see so many TV shows depicting men gladly performing oral sex, and women-on-top sex. Aside from that particular fetish of mine, though, I really have been seeing a direct comparison of such things, and the sex in modern shows is much more equal.
It's gratifying, really, to have done this. I frequently tell people that, in the world I live in, equality already exists. Most of the women in the goth scene, especially in Pittsburgh, that I know make more money than the men do, have more complex jobs, and are usually more capable of kicking someone's ass.
I'm aware that discrimination still exists, of course, but it's nice to see geekdom showing these colors, nice to see sci-fi push the limits of gender discrimination in a way that it's never done with racial equality. I still wonder why science fiction draws so little minority appeal.
Whatever I did, and it feels more like a bruise than a strain, like someone had been paddling me in the wrong spot, I hurt it more as I helped load the last boxes of Prefers Sacrifice's things into my car as I drove her to the airport.
She begged me not to cry as I hugged her goodbye at O'Hare, so as I winced into the car, I promised her I would not. Home, then, I decided to park myself in front of the TV and watch all those movies I've been picking up lately. Finding a way to position myself that was not painful was a trick in itself.
I'd been picking up a lot of sexploitation films from the 60s in the Under $5 Bins, as well as my usual fare of horror movies and sci-fi shows. Also, a friend had just given me the second half of Doctor Who season 2, and so I interspersed them, watching the agonizingly slow pace of 60s pieces for as long as I could manage before switching over to something more contemporary.
In such a direct comparison, it's hard not to truly marvel at how far female characters have come in the last 50 years. Early Doctor Who assistants did little more than scream and get in trouble, whereas Rose Tyler, the 9th and 10th Doctor's companion, takes a much more active role, often finding clues that the Doctor completely misses. Also, the very nature of sex scenes has changed radically. Women in these early shows were usually timid in bed, or reactive to a man's desire, ready to serve his hunger for her. Modern shows, especially sci-fi shows (or perhaps just because that's the fare I've been consuming) equalize the desire, showing men approaching relationships with the same degree of hunger and fear as women do, each always strongly affected by all those who have tread so carelessly on their hearts before.
And, as a side note, it's really nice to see so many TV shows depicting men gladly performing oral sex, and women-on-top sex. Aside from that particular fetish of mine, though, I really have been seeing a direct comparison of such things, and the sex in modern shows is much more equal.
It's gratifying, really, to have done this. I frequently tell people that, in the world I live in, equality already exists. Most of the women in the goth scene, especially in Pittsburgh, that I know make more money than the men do, have more complex jobs, and are usually more capable of kicking someone's ass.
I'm aware that discrimination still exists, of course, but it's nice to see geekdom showing these colors, nice to see sci-fi push the limits of gender discrimination in a way that it's never done with racial equality. I still wonder why science fiction draws so little minority appeal.
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Date: 27 Jul 2006 14:42 (UTC)There are many, indeed, who follow the "scream and run and get captured" model.
There are those who escape that mold. It started, really, in the Pertwee era.
Liz Shaw - a competant, intelligent scientist, who was able to face the Doctor as an equal, stand up to him, and stand on her own as a person. Gotten rid of in short order.
Jo Grant was supposed to be a more active, competant agent alongside Pertwee's James-Bond-ian Doctor... but the producers refused to allow it.
And Sarah Jane Smith, of course, the reporter who started out quite thoroughly distrusting the Doctor, and still constantly going off on her own even after she gets to know him... and still ending up getting into trouble and needing to be rescued, despite all her Women's Lib talk.
Leela's 'noble savage' certainly gets top marks for being thoroughly overdone.
Then we get, of course, Romana, who breaks the mold thoroughly, but she's also supposed to be an alien Time Lord, so doesn't really "count".
Moving on from her we find Nyssa (cool, calm, competant scientist), Tegan (brash, brusque, no-nonsense Aussie), and Adric (whiny teenage brat). With so many of them they rather overtook the stories from the Doctor on occasion.
Peri is firmly back in the scream-and-run category, Mel tries but isn't much... and then we get Ace.
Ace is not terribly competant, nor is she wise in the way of the universe. But she's also not the sort to be cowed by anything. She goes hand-to-hand with a Dalek (and wins), she fiercely asserts her independance, and she's never afraid to tell the Doctor when he's being a bit off.
By this point, the entire paradigm of the story changes. Ace's time onscreen, the story isn't so much about the Doctor as it is about her, with the Doctor providing motivation and maneuvering her into plots. This is the model that was picked up for the revival series, and will explain, I think, why I feel that the ending of Season 28 was entirely appropriate and very well done.