The 17th (!) Carnival of Feminists is up here. The Bitch at Bitch|Lab is in her usual fine form, with a particularly well-organized and well-thought-out carnival, and Laurie and I are delighted that our women wrestling post was included. Check it out.
And while you’re checking things out, here’s a superb essay by a friend of mine on her own personal mind/body problem … and the times when it’s not a problem (written immediately after tubal ligation surgery).
“Oh, body. I like you okay even if I crack jokes about wishing to be a brain in a jar. … You’re so fragile & yet robust, like a car that’s utterly dependable to keep running and yet that makes worrisome mysterious noises, rumblings, backfires, leaking oil and fumes into the drivers’ seat. A spaceship with a rogue AI in some of its limbs and engines, so that the wires that come out of my pilot-self in the navigation console are getting strange messages. My orders get lost on the way to you, eddying in electronic backwaters, static on the line, sensory input down. You refuse to be a perfect tool for me, you buck and protest, you’re a horse and I’m the rider, and you let me know it.”