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Thoughts on Sex and the City (spoilers)

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Last night I saw Sex and the City. I ended up going to a different cinemaplex than we’d originally planned because all three early evening showings at the first theatre were sold out, and we were stuck in the very front row at our second choice. My appreciation for the series is limited; years ago I started watching the show with some friends I’d just met, and as time passed, I grew more and more fond of the friends, and less and less fond of the show. So I’m not sure if I would have bothered to see the movie, had these friends not really wanted us all to watch it together for old times’ sake.

 

The trademark quirks of the show – the literal glint in each character’s eye, Carrie’s overly enunciated narration, the not-even-groanworthy puns – are all intact, and if they aren’t exaggerated in Sex and the City’s movie incarnation, they certainly seem that way. The characters are all sketched out in the opening credits, with flashbacks to the series, and it’s remarkable how about 40 seconds of montage each tells you all you need to know, if you had never seen the series. Complexity has never been the point of SATC.

 

Unlike the fans and critics who saw the series as striking a blow for women everywhere by portraying them as liberated, independent, and answering to no man, I always thought the show was in many ways regressive (and I only partially mean that in a bad way.) Certainly the “girls” were sleeping with whomever they choose, dealing with the consequences (STDs, abortions, unwed motherhood) in a cavalier way, and putting themselves before any other relationship in their lives – not only with men, but also with family. The only relatives I remember from the show are Miranda’s mother-in-law, and Charlotte’s first mother-in-law. But then part of the conceit of the show was that friends are the new family.

 

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Cherry picking–not a right

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When it comes to pro-abortion arguments, a recently published opinion piece in the Medical Post — “INSIDERS: Is the end of abortion near?” (a restricted access piece) — has got it all. There’s the well-funded religious groups, fear mongering of Bill C-484 backdoorism and a return to coat-hanger abortions, abortion as standard of care for unplanned pregnancy, abortion as human right, abortion as incontestable under law, the obligation to refer, the obligation to facilitate access, and finally, freedom of conscience, sure, but my conscience, not yours.

Then there’s this brain twister:

The Federation of Medical Women of Canada (FMWC) is very concerned because we owe our deepest gratitude to our federation founders those heroes who fought so hard for the right of women to be able to choose their reproductive rights.” (emphasis mine)

 

Huh? So it’s no longer about having reproductive rights but about being able to choose our reproductive rights? This is moral relativism at its best – or at its worst–depending on how you look at it.

 

Allow me to think about it in the big scheme of things, that is, a scheme bigger than justifying individual wants and desires. Why women? Why the “right to choose”? Why “reproductive rights”? Why do women have a right to choose their rights? Men can reproduce too.

Just imagine men parading around with this slogan: “What I do with my semen is my business.”

But men are not allowed to choose their reproductive rights–and rightfully so. Society at large recognizes that some rights should be limited and others denied entirely. In civil society, rights are not chosen individually even when their scope is essentially individual. Rights are enshrined and efforts to protect them deployed because of a general understanding that they are just, good and necessary. There is a general understanding in society that men shouldn’t be allowed to do whatever they choose with their sperm; that pedophiles shouldn’t be allowed a full range of reproductive rights and that under age children shouldn’t be allowed to choose at all, to name but a few…

Pro-choice advocates please stop waving the flag of “reproductive rights.” Please stop making a case for the special status of your eggs. Or at least make a coherent argument. I’m still waiting for that.

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Andrea adds: Aaaah, Véronique, clearly you didn’t get the “it’s none of your business” memo. It’s probably my very favourite pro-choice argument, that variation on a grade four theme–none of your beeswax–said with jaw tightly clenched. Are homeless people my business? What about all the charitable groups we have to help with that? Very strictly speaking, nothing is ever our business–if that’s the kind of world you want to live in. One where you step over the bodies lying on grates on the way to work, and turn your head the other way, while you zip in to Starbucks for a latté. “Mankind was my business…” It’s always a good time to quote one of my all time favourite movies. Here–watch the YouTube clip again. (Yes, I’m aware that it is June.)

What is truth?

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What is truth? After extensive introspection, Advertising Standards Canada has found it and is–yes, you guessed it–advertising it. Wonderful. Nothing hypocritical there. I am personally grateful when others do thinking for me. (And thanks to the reader who sent this photo in, asking “I wonder who one complains to about deceptive ads sponsored by Ad Standards Canada?”)

They’re against everything

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Le Collège des médecins announces in this article that it is against every law that has anything to do with fetuses or pregnancy currently on the table in Parliament. This according to Yves Robert, secretary of Le Collège des médecins:

Besides Bill C-484, the organization also denounces three other federal bills: C-338; C-537; C-543, which all run along a similar vein.

Bill C-338 would criminalize abortion after 20 weeks of gestation, other than in cases where the woman is suffering from (mental) health problems or if the fetus has been diagnosed with severe defects.

Bill C-537 has to do with the right of conscience of health care professionals. It allows then to refuse to participate in medical procedures which run contrary to their religious beliefs or their belief of the sanctity of human life.

Bill C-543 attempts to make the pregnancy of a victim of a violent attack an aggravated circumstance of the crime.

All of these are private bills. Bills C-484 and C-537 were put forth by Conservative members from out west. Bills C-338 and C-543 are the work of Ontario Liberals…

Mr. Robert would ask all members of Parliament to vote against these bills.

Apparently, he has some concerns about doctors being held liable if harm comes upon an unborn child. He must wonder how anyone practices medicine at all in those other civilized countries with all those pesky laws!

Reading in new Charter rights

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The rights business in full bloom: Abortion, sexuality, shooting up? This is precisely, I’m sure, what the creators of our Charter intended.

But I like the main point of Wente’s article. We should indeed deliberately attach stigma to certain behaviours. If something is considered dishonourable, or unethical–why not just say that? And make it harder for people to participate in those activities–without using the Charter or the law? (Which may actually dilute morality in any case, “forcing” people to do something or not do something based on legality takes away the strength of character which calls us to do or not do for simple reasons of right and wrong.) I’m rambling now, though, and not sure where this all will conclude, so I’ll stop. Read Wente’s piece, it’s entirely coherent.

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Tanya can ramble, too: The article notes

If safe shooting is a right, then shouldn’t every addict be entitled to it? Toronto’s more progressive politicians are hopeful. “We already have a lot of safe consumption sites in the city of Toronto,” Councillor Gord Perks pointed out. “They’re called bars.”

Great, is this gonna mean cigarette smokers will have a charter right to get their fix indoors, too? (They might argue that it isn’t safe to smoke outdoors during 40 below weather in just a cardigan or sport coat.) Did we just accomplish the opposite? I’m so confused.

The story of the day, the week…

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Nothing like a little miracle to perk up your day and remind you of how amazing women’s reproductive systems really are:

An Australian doctor on Friday hailed as a “miracle” a baby girl who survived a full-term pregnancy outside the womb. Durga Thangarajah was delivered by caesarean section at Darwin Private Hospital on Thursday, after spending almost nine months growing inside her mother’s right ovary — stretching the organ’s tissue as thin as paper…Miller said the condition had not been detected in this case because the mother, 34-year-old Meera Thangarajah, had not had early pre-natal scans and had had a trouble-free pregnancy.

Orwellian advertising commission

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I missed this on Sunday–references those “deceptive” ads from LifeCanada.

In other words, the LifeCanada ad was “deceptive” because it was outrageously true. Pace George Orwell: “War is peace. Freedom is slavery. Ignorance is strength.”

Declaring the ads to be deceptive is a ruling so unambiguously slanted in favour of an ideology–to reference “access” in these ads would have made them pro-choice, since access is their battle cry. And of course the truth there is that a woman in Canada can have an abortion anytime, any place, unlike seeing a specialist, for example.

This is their side. No really.

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More post-abortive women’s voices put forward by pro-choice groups can be found at the Abortion Project and if it weren’t so damn sad, it would be funny. Here are some quotes from the very first three stories I clicked on, entirely randomly.

I regret the day I decided to have an abortion and wish that I could take it back.  

and

I still am pro-choice. I guess I just wasn’t prepared for what would come afterwards and all the feelings that I had: feelings of grief and loss, and realizing that I do want to have a child someday but this isn’t the right time. And feeling really sad and worried, like, did I make the right decision? It wasn’t something I could just talk to people about and I think that made it feel even worse. I’ve been in therapy since the abortion, and not just because of the abortion– all this other stuff got stirred up.

and

Although I have freely stated that I had a safe and legal abortion, I have never let myself feel anything about the experience and what it meant to me. I am crying while writing this and these are the first tears I have shed since I was in the midst of the procedure.

You could read as many like this as you have time for.

Abortion: Contributing to strong, empowered women, in control of their destinies, everywhere.  

What is that, Mama?

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I realize that I haven’t blogged for a month because of the frantic level of activity in my household as the school year ends and summer activities ramp up. And here I am back –  with a cranky old prude comment. 

On Saturday night, I attempted to watch the hockey game with my two oldest daughers (11 and 9), both hockey mad. I am not hockey mad but can tolerate it at this stage of the season and was prepared to take one for the team in the name of good old Canadian family togetherness (if you can call watching TV “togetherness”).  

I lasted not quite one period. Not because of the game, but the ads. It seemed at every break in play, we were subjected to this little treasure or perhaps this variation of the same theme. 

Look, I am not sure that viagra represents any kind of moral issue, but how many kids do you figure are watching game 4 of the Stanley Cup final on a Saturday night? Do they really need this? Does Pfizer and the CBC really need to do this to all of us? Perhaps I should have been more prepared to take advantage of the “teaching moment” so kindly provided to me and my children by Pfizer and Hockey Night in Canada, but I just wanted to watch the hockey game with my kids. And, from giant billboard bra ads to beer ads to jean ads, I do get a bit fed up with my children’s sensibilities being assaulted with “adult” sexuality (usually presented in its most puerile form) every time we turn on the TV, walk down the street or get on a streetcar or subway. 

Look, at 9 and 11, I recognize that my daughters are ready for some serious discussions about sex. But what they don’t need and can’t get away from is a barrage of tawdry sexual images that don’t really have anything to do with a mature (or maturing) understanding of human sexuality, and are no doubt very unhelpful in achieving it. 

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Tanya adds: You sound as comforted as I am, knowing my 11 year old nephew crosses the bridge to Montreal daily, every time facing a billboard like this.  I fear for his concept of sexuality, and for the risk these ads pose as far as contributing to traffic accidents. I can barely take my eyes off them!

Note: Click on ‘bikinis’ to see actual ad images.

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Veronique adds: That reminded me of an older gentleman I knew. When walking through a shopping mall with is wife, he would stop in front of the La Senza displays (you know, those ceiling-high posters of women in underwear?), look at his wife and announce: “Look dear, just like at home!”

“Hey Cos, do something, call me a cab!”

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“OK, you’re a cab.”

Saturday evening, my oldest daughter and I indulged in a late night viewing of Singin’ in the Rain. We like older movies. I like older romances, Liesl likes vintage war movies like The Devil’s Brigade. Both of us love Singin’ in the Rain.

I like watching movies for pure entertainment, but I can never quite turn my mother-radar off. As Liesl grows into a young woman, finding movies that appeal to her maturing tastes while communicating positive values is increasingly challenging. Liesl’s brother Kurt – who is only a year younger – is more of a “special effects” kind of guy. The technology involved in making movies matters more than the storyline: “smooching” is generally frowned upon and character development fast-forwarded when not altogether absent. At any rate, I like when male characters sweep their female counterparts off their feet before dropping them at their doorstep – but no further – with nothing more than a kiss. But yesterday I found yet another reason to like 50-year-old movies:


 

Isn’t it striking how the image of the female body has changed since 1952? When women were still allowed to have hips and thighs, just to name two body parts that have now been expunged from entertainment?

 

If only to bring this point home, last weekend was Brigitta’s dance recital. Argh. The dancing was grand, I’ll give them that. But the costumes? Some of them were cute, most of them were ridiculous and four routines were all-time worst dance outfit chart toppers. Vile. My brother-in-law excused himself from recital duty saying that one had to be a pervert to sit for two hours looking at little girls prance around in swimsuits. My father, who takes recital duty very seriously, was not amused by the suggestion. Nonetheless, I felt uncomfortable at times looking at teenage femmes fatales dance to the James Bond theme in fishnet stockings and leather bras. What I found most disconcerting however was the apparent disregard of those who pick the outfits for those who don’t fit in them. The girls making-up the dance school’s clientele are in large part suburban little girls looking to have a good time, not professional dancers. Some outfits served no other purpose but to showcase why some little girls will never be prima ballerinas. The body types have not changed since Singin’ in the Rain, only the expectations have.

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