“meat is murder”

Good news from PETA – seal-hunting season has come to a close, and while sadly some poor animals were still brutally slaughtered, 3/4 of the seals intended to be killed were actually spared.

That’s a fantastic improvement, but still not quite enough.  Thanks to the EU and the US banning seal products, the demand has fallen dramatically.  Sometimes the most effective way to effect change is by hitting these people where it hurts – in the pocket.

I really can’t bear animal cruelty, and it makes me annoyed at my own prevarication on committing to being a veggie.  I only buy free range meat products now, but it’s still not enough.  The fact that my little freezer is jam-packed with Quorn is a step in the right direction, but still not quite enough.

For health reasons, for my own moral reasons, I really think I have to do this once and for all.  Goodbye, meat.  The sweet hangover cure of a bacon sandwich isn’t worth this guilt.

“There are no tears, just pity and fear”

What the hell, South Africa?

Seriously, can somebody please give me a positive association for this country?  If it’s not car-jackings in Jo’burg, it’s growing up amidst the global embargoes in place because of apartheid.  Not to mention what the accent does to my brain – it really is like tinfoil on a filling sometimes.

Is patriarchal society really an excuse for 1 in 4 men committing rape?  We’re not talking about in the midst of civil war either (and I don’t think rape as a weapon is ever, ever excusable. But hey, it’s cheaper than bullets, right?)

It’s rare in this over-exposed, media-junkie life of mine that a news item can make me feel sick to the stomach.  This managed it from the headline and it only got worse.  I struggle with the blanket ideologies of feminism, but one thing I really feel we still have to fight for is better and more effective prosecution of rape.

I’m lucky to have the life that I do, working in a ‘man’s job’ with nary a comment being passed.  I honestly thought equality was within our grasp and in so many ways it could be.

As long as men can inflict this on women, we’ll never be equal.  That’s as wrong as it is terrifying, and I never thought I’d be in a place to admit that.

“what’s new pussycat is you were once a lioness”

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Now playing: Rilo Kiley – The Angels Hung Around
via FoxyTunes

I understand cause and effect just fine thank you.  I will cause your shredded paper to fly around the room and the

only effect will be you standing around going “awwwwww”.

When will scientists ever learn? There is no point doing psychological testing on cats because they are smarter than humans, never mind dogs.  Why on earth would they bother choosing between two pieces of string when they know that by simply looking cute they’ll get whatever is attached to it eventually anyway.

There is no disdain like the haughty disdain of your average pet cat.  This psychologist was just on the receiving end of 15 doses of it.  (The cat who got everything wrong was clearly a close relation to my beloved Orlando)

“The violets in the mountains have broken the rocks”

“The violets in the mountains have broken the rocks”

It’s a gorgeous sentiment, from a beautiful and talented actress.

It almost feels like the tide might be turning, like those ridiculous hate-filled arguments against gay marriage are finally being exposed for the small-minded poppycock that they are.

I count my blessings, not often enough, that here in the UK Civil Partnerships became a fact of life with little more than a few placards at Parliament and some snippy opinion columns from the same people who hate anyone who isn’t straight, white and morbidly dull just like them.

We managed that, and the hippy-dippy state of California was thwarted by the rich, white old people in Orange County (and their ilk) and uh, the Mormons.

But it’s going to be okay, because you’ve got Massachusetts, Connecticut, Iowa, New Hampshire, Vermont, and Maine already on board. As Mark Morford notes in this article, the tide of ‘what’s the big deal?’ is getting bigger and will eventually sweep aside the bigotry and disgusting intolerance of the past.

If, as Patricia says, this truly is the age of Obama, it would be nice to see his administration spending less time defending DOMA and more time actually implementing that change we’re supposed to believe in.

“I’m a woman and proud of it..”

If I haven’t mentioned it before, let me say it now… I love the Donmar. Not just because of its original and often groundbreaking productions, but the vibe of the place itself. It’s like watching a play in a classier, upscale version of your primary school gym hall.

Some of the biggest names in theatre, film or television will perform in a setting so intimate you can see the cracks in their greasepaint and the sweatmarks on their dresses. A few months ago I saw a fantastically raw production of Piaf with Elena Roger and this Saturday gone it was Gillian Anderson’s turn to wow me.

Happily, my original TV girlfriend did not disappoint.  One thing we remarked on at the interval is that although she’ll forever be known for the X-Files, as the attendant there-but-for-the-Grace-of-God Society proved, she has the poise and discipline of a quite marvellous stage actress.  I’ve always thought the best performances I’ve seen have been like watching someone try to cross a canyon on a tightrope: they weave hapharzardly from charming to irritating, never falling into one or the other, always keeping you enthralled.

Nora isn’t perhaps the most likeable character in literature, but she is sympathetic.  You root for her to save her marriage in one moment, the next you’re cheering her sad but clinical decision to end it.  Like the great heroines, she is as strong as she is weak, locked in a continual battle between what she is, what she was, and what she ought to be.  When the entire theatre is hanging on your every word, you must be doing something right, so brava Ms Anderson.

The rest of the cast was actually quite enticing from the programme – Christopher Eccleston being the only thing I’ve ever liked about Doctor Who, Toby Stephens a magnificent actor who used to rehearse his sword-fighting in leather trousers every night when I worked Front of House at the Haymarket.  While the former disappointed with his shouty acting and awkward stage presence, the son of Maggie Smith did the family dynasty proud.  At the play’s dénouement, I felt compelled to look away from his raw tears, but only because they were so painful that they were too close to real.  It takes a lot to make me do that, and his turn as the favour-seeking politician was the perfect counterpoint to Nora’s moral journey from start to finish.

The supporting cast were capable, and even the child actors managed to stay on the right side of grating.  A restrained but beautiful production, and thankfully, the perfect birthday present.

A Doll’s House plays at the Donmar Warehouse, London until Juy 18th

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Now playing: Aimee Mann – Nothing is Good Enough
via FoxyTunes