Get yer laws off!!

I have never written about anything quite as off-topic as the post below, but I can't help myself:

I cannot believe what is happening in the news.  After 40 years of more or less progress, suddenly there are men at the forefront of our government claiming to decide what women are good for.  It is so all-fronts I almost don't know where to start, but it seems to me that, unlike a Facebook friend's posting on a "secret war" against women's rights we are in the middle of an all-out assault, and I really mean, an assault.

Maybe we should thank President Obama for opening the can of worms, because it certainly brought out the radicalism of some politicians that normally hides behind a smug, rich, male facade.  Just as we were sitting at our desks, quietly trying to support our families and weather the economic storm that is continuing for many people here, while in the background we hear about Europe going under (though you would not much think so.  I was in France and England last year, and I can tell you that English bankers at least are spending their lower tax windfall at the pub every night while Westminster Abbey is mostly closed due to lack of public funds.  But that is another story.)  While we are pinching pennies and trying to pay the bills every month, sinister things are happening in the area of human rights, right here.

President Obama's order under the new healthcare act that women who work at religion-affiliated institutions should be eligible to have coverage for family planning services was like a bomb going off.  And, after the explosion, when the smoke cleared, we could see real destruction.  In this case, we could see righty radicals immediately wrapping themselves in their religious paraphernalia - how dare the government tell churches what to do - it's unAmerican!  Leaving aside for good and all the thought that the individuals involved who work for these institutions have rights too, even if they are female. 

Ever looking for something new to gnaw on, and getting bored with the Republican primaries, the media immediately, in its peculiar, stumbling way, jumped on the issue.  And some of the stuff that came to light is appalling.  As Dahlia Lithwick said in Slate, "Where's the outrage?"  Where indeed? 

Lithwick was reporting on a law that is being passed on Virginia to require ultrasounds for women who are considering abortion before doctors can legally perform the procedure.  Ultrasounds at a very early stage of pregnancy require the insertion of a wand into a woman's vagina, since a fetus at that stage is very, very tiny.  As Lithwick (barely concealing *her* outrage) points out, penetrating someone against their will is, in effect, the definition of rape.  So women who want to have abortions in Virginia will need to submit to being raped with a foreign object in order to undergo a legal procedure. 

Even more outrageous was some of the thinking among the supporters of the bill, that women should have considered that being penetrated in such a way was part of the consequence of becoming pregnant and wanting an abortion.  If they didn't want to be subjected to an intrusive ultrasound, maybe they should not have had sex.  Ha, ha.  Even some of the commenters to Lithwick's article were snarky, and, while they agreed the idea was outrageous, it didn't really resonate with them.  I think, just maybe, the snarkers were men.  Ya think?

What does this sound like?  It sounds like the "virginity tests" that female protestors in Egypt who had been arrested were being subjected to just last year.  Reports of that sort caused outrage here, while in the meanwhile a state legislature was planning to perpetuate, essentially the same sort of outrage - an invasive and medically unnecessary procedure designed to punish a woman for being "bad."

What in hell is wrong with people?  And what is wrong with women for keeping their mouths shut in the face of the developments of the past two weeks?  Women have always to a certain extent pretended to go along and then sort of quietly went about their business.  It was our way of getting things done and avoiding conflict.  But if stuff like this keeps happening, the only option for young women will be to quietly seek out a back alley.  Stand up.  Please stand up.

Lonely Buddha

Last week, I went to the Met to view the exhibit on Japanese storytelling.  I wanted to go before they changed the exhibit this week - they were planning on rolling some scrolls further along and changing some other details.  I will try to go again to look at the new stuff before the exhibit disappears altogether.

Like most New Yorkers, I usually only go to the Met when I have a visitor from out of town.  I did want to see this particular exhiibit, but it took about 2 months before I was able to get there, and then only because I was able to take the day off and take care of multiple things.  I was even contemplating whether I should go to the dentist that day, too (but I didn't), just to give an idea of how overscheduled I feel like I am.   

On my way in, I was drawn to a room not far from the entrance of the Japanese galleries in which some Buddhist figures were on display.  Seated in the center, facing the entrance, was a sculpture of the Buddha with some sort of historical significance.  He was very old, and his hands were missing.  The description noted that he was from Koyasan, which means we have some experience in common, at least.  He was given a fairly dignified setting, for a museum.  The curators even put a few guardian kings at the corners of the room, to give a sense of context, even if in a highly secularized, western-museum-art-history sort of way.

By way of disclosure: I had been celebrating my birthday that entire afternoon, and had consumed more beer than I had recently thought possible for myself at one sitting.  I was in a particularly contemplative mood, let's say, by the time I walked past this particular gallery.  So I walked in to say hello.

It was very sad to see him, sitting there, handless, by himself.  After over 20 years of going to Japan, and seeing truly compelling images of the Buddha and his heavenly retinue at home in their various temples, from the Garan in Koyasan, to the Daibutsu in Nara, to Toji in Kyoto and many other places, he seemed very lonely and out of place.  If he were at home, someone would have replaced his hands, the new ones held in an attitude - of teaching perhaps, or wisdom.  People would have been lighting incense or candles and leaving him coins.  His image would be contemplated by temple-goers as representing someone who might help solve the problems faced in their everyday lives.  He would be seen by people who understand him better than the museum-goers, who, if they notice him at all, are rushing through the gallery on their way to something more interesting and exciting. 

One person's religious symbol as another person's objet d'art.  I wondered how he got there - who would sell such an item, and who would buy it?  It seemed a very cold fate for an image that, even in its dimly lit, climate-controlled setting, still had a sense of spiritual power. 

So I was filled with a sense of compassion, even a little grief, for this damaged wooden statue.  I wanted to leave him a coin, to make him feel more at home, but I did not feel like getting kicked out of the Met, especially since I had not yet looked at the exhibit I had paid admission for.  From the soberness of Monday afternoon, it all seems a little stupid, but maybe I am not a totally lost cause after all.