the quality control of Finnish female PhDs

Kotiapulaisen Kirja ~ Homehelper's Book
Just when women start making some gains, the border police move in and questions arise about how capable they really are. In Finland there is now a higher number of women obtaining PhDs than men...

so what do some "experts" come up with? That the quality of those PhDs may be less than "the old days"....that is, the old days when intelligence was only a male prerogative!

"The number of women with Ph.D's has skyrocketed in recent years. At many Finnish universities, women account for two thirds of Ph.D. graduates.

Meanwhile some experts are calling for doctoral graduate production to be reined in.
....
Some experts say there are too many Ph.D. graduates and that quantity may be taking precedence at the expense of quality."

Ladies, get back to the kitchen!

shoes have magical powers

If you've grown up in the West and/or are familiar with Hollywood movies, you will read Dorothy's ruby red slippers as absolutely magical. What this pair of shoes can do!


even Miss Piggy agrees that "shoes have magical powers."

Shoes are read in many different ways, depending on historical and cultural context. They are gendered and classed and imply all sorts of meanings. Dorothy's glittery shoes magically take her places in The Wizard of Oz. This empowering potential of red shoes has been used as a creative metaphor for women, including the RedShoes on Court writing group I belong to.

The Red Shoes with Norma Shearer, is one of the best films of all time, and worth a watch.

And who can forget the message of Karen in The Red Shoes?

Shoes can be disempowering. Like with Karen, shoes can hobble you and prevent you from running or even walking. Shoes can deform your feet. Shoes pick up dirt. When something is trod upon, underfoot, it is crushed. To step on someone is not a meaningless metaphor.

The bottoms of shoes, like the bottoms of purses, are the most vile filthy surfaces, even dotted with fecal bacteria and other unpleasantries. Thus whacking someone with your shoe symbolizes the lowest of the low contempt you hold for that person, which shows you see them as less than human, as does throwing your shoes in disgust --- at the most idiotic president of the US and everything his corrupt regime represents and has done.

My husband and I laughed so hard and cheered on Iraqi journalist, Muntather Al-Zaidi, who recently threw his shoes in disgust at Bush when he visited Baghdad and began his blather:

"...[His] appearance at a news conference here was interrupted by an Iraqi journalist who shouted in Arabic — “This is a gift from the Iraqis; this is the farewell kiss, you dog” — and threw one of his shoes at the president, who ducked and narrowly avoided being struck.

As chaos ensued, he threw his other shoe, shouting, “This is from the widows, the orphans and those who were killed in Iraq.” The second shoe also narrowly missed Mr. Bush as Prime Minister Nuri Kamal al-Maliki stuck out a hand in front of the president’s face to help shield him."

Arabwoman, as well as many others, places what Muntatha Al-Zaidi has done as an act of resistance, long overdue. In this one non-high tech act of throwing his shoes at Bush in public, Al-Zaidi cuts across the pretensions of office and exposes the lies and the dirt of the Americans.

Seriously, a high class act. With a used pair of shoes! Such a loss of face for the US in the entire Middle East and Arab world.

What the out-going Bush and his wicked cronies need is to be buried under a pile of stinking shoes:

"NOTE: Speaking of shoes and the White House, Skip Mendler of Honesdale, PA has a great idea. He suggests that everyone who is disgusted with the outgoing Bush/Cheney administration send a shoe to the White House. Just imagine a pile up of a million smelly old running shoes in the White House mailroom! I think he's got something. Spread the word!"

my sisters' art

1. my sister's art.
My sister, Katja, made this wonderful creation for her recent ArtZoom exhibit at the Northern Woman's Bookstore. The hawk was one of a pair that took over the skies above my sister's backyard this summer. When the hawks first moved into the tallest trees in the back woods, we thought, cool. Their high pitched shrieks were the first sign of their presence. The female was hidden in a nest high up in an old balsam; the male sat at the tip of an old white spruce, regal, then swooped around. After awhile, though, we noticed that all the other birds, the chickadees, goldfinch, cardinals, sparrows and nuthatches, scattered and hid while the hawks were around. The air became awful quiet except for the shrieks of the raptors. I'm not sure if the hawk in the picture has a field mouse in its talons?
Katja created the background for this image from the rusty relic at Rabbit Mountain. Things get reborn in unexpected ways when sisters go for a walk.


2. my sister's art.
My sister, Della, made this wonderful faerie for the first Faerie Night she held in December 2006. My sister, Della, makes faeries from found stuff. When she goes out for a walk, she looks on the ground and finds bits 'n bobs that she turns this way 'n that then tucks them into the see-through purse she found in the grass at the Hellfire Club. Last Friday, she held her 3rd annual Faerie Ancestors evening. Every fall, Della goes into a creative frenzy making faeries in her back workshop. Her husband, Nick, has to call her back to reality at suppertime. In December, my sister, Della, puts together an elaborate evening display of the new faeries, each with its own unique, intricate setting, in her magical 18c Abbey house in Ballinaclash. Women come from all over the county to see the faeries, an invitation and donation at the door gets you in. Della gives all the money to the homeless in Dublin; she dropped off 1700 Euros on Monday!

since Christmas is coming, let's talk about reindeer

still from The Last Yoik in the Sami Forests?
The reindeer of Samiland are like the Canadian caribou, except the animals of North America are wild. And like the caribou, the reindeer, and the forests and tundra of the lands of the indigenous peoples of northern Europe and Canada, suffer from romanticization, exploitation, abuse, the dire effects of climate change, and human disregard and disrespect.

Does Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer know that his kin are in trouble?

Canadian caribou are in a steep decline, but does this news ring out like Jingle Bells?


"The massive Beverly herd, which roams the tundra from northern Manitoba and Saskatchewan and well into the Northwest Territories and Nunavut, once numbered about 276,000. But a just-released survey suggests the number of caribou cows on the calving grounds of the massive Beverly herd have fallen by 98 per cent over the past 14 years."


Last Yoik in Sami Forests?, a documentary by Hannu Hyvönen, tells of the effects of neoliberal corporate greed and consumer apathy on the much beloved reindeer of Samiland.

You can watch The Last Yoik in Sami Forests? on YouTube. I recommend watching the Epilogue first.

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

part 6

Arabia in Finland

I bought this small round plate for .25c at a yard sale down the street from me a few years ago. Gleefully, I brought it home and added it to my collection of other small plates that I have amassed over the years; most have been gifts. Like many other Finnish Canadians, I have a number of various small plates like this up on the walls--a collecting pastime that the Japanese seem to like to do, too. On the back of this plate it reads: Arabia Finland. Toivo G. Utrianen. Utriainen was a prolific Finnish artist who wanted to spread beauty around. He said, to me the forest is my temple. He said, I am not a frequent or eager churchgoer, but find God in nature and that's where I find stillness. Without belief the world is empty.

The back of this plate reads: Arabia Finland. Lapinäiti. Lapp woman. Design: Anita Rantanen-Siewers.
The Saami people and culture is a common theme appropriated by Finns for inspiration in art and for tourism, especially the Santa industry and all things Northern, much like non-native Canadians use First Nations peoples and their cultural symbols and meanings. For example, take the inukshuk (pardon the pun), which has seen increasing appropriation and commodification, from the 2010 Vancouver Olympics and the cover of books (that don't even have one essay by an Inuk writer despite purporting to be a book showcasing Canadian writers!) to realtors:

"Our team has chosen the Inukshuk to symbolize our business. We are here to guide you safely and comfortably through the sale and/or purchase of your cherished asset, your home."


But back to Arabia. The back of this plate reads: Lappalaiset Nuotiolla. Lapps by a Campfire. A. Alariesto 46. Made by ARABIA FINLAND. I'm not really sure if Andreas Alariesto was a Finn or Saami (or both), but what I am sure of is that there is an industry that has emerged from his work, which was a creation of his imagination. Now, I'm not against promoting the arts, for certainly artists need to make a living, too, and we should value "arts" much more than we do, especially in policy, but I do think how that art is produced and taken up is an area for discussion.


image from Suomen kasvot. The Face of Finland. (1948). One of those rummage sale books I've amassed. Some major Orientalism happening here. It's a photo of the artistic director of the Arabia factory making (or pretending to touch up for the photo op) a nude nubile African woman while an Egyptian feline looks on and another topless lithe black female poses regally in the background.

I remember as a young girl wondering about this name "Arabia" that I saw stamped on the bottom of bowls and plates. It sounded so exotic. I remember asking my mom about it. What does it mean? It's just a name, she replied, the name of the company, and went back to her work in the kitchen. The company, Arabia, has a 130 year history in Finland. The old factory grounds is now a suburb of Helsinki called Arabianranta, or The Arabian Shore, which until gentrification was an area of many homeless. I laughed when I saw the names of the streets because in typical Finnish fashion of lumping all exoticism and differences together, the street names are an Orientalist jumble: Cairo, Damascus, Korea, Siam, Syria, Indian, Java, Sumatra, Japan, Arabian Road and Arabian Shore, and just a jog down, Berlin, London and Paris. Only in Finland would Japan find its way into Arabianranta...