Sly Likes: Feminist Poetry from H. Hennenburg

Image by Dimitris Vetsikas from Pixabay

The statue depicts Dame Millicent Fawcett (11 June 1847 – 5 August 1929), an iconic British feminist.

Today I encountered a thought-provoking poem entitled The Shape of Water. It was written by H. Hennenburg in 1998.

"But do you know that a woman's voice will change the world slowly? Light will creep in where she unburdens her heart."

This poem inspired a train of thought for me.

It makes me think of a line from the song by Ten Years After.

"I'd love to change the world but  I don't know what to do. So I leave it up to you."

Then there's another song that comes to mind, this one by Ani DiFranco.

"I am not a pretty girl, that is not what I do."

Here I am, a woman who sees the ways in which we could be kinder to one another and make the world a better place. But since I am a strange old bird and not pretty at all, I have a hard time making myself heard. The world doesn't tend to listen to women who look like me.

Then again, they don't tend to listen to the women that men fall all over themselves to get next to either.

~Sly Has Spoken~

Royalty-free image copyright Julia Henze. Purchased from 123rf.com

Notes

Sly Fawkes is your ornery old Aunt Cie's snarky political alter-ego.

The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese, if You Please (Or Don't Please)

Content copyright 2020 by Cara Hartley

Please do not repost

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Quoting portions of the post for educational or review purposes is acceptable if proper credit is given.

NaPoWriMo 2020 Day 15 + April PAD Challenge 2020 Day 15 + Words for Wednesday: Blue Dream

Image by Sandra Myles from Pixabay

I am your blue dream nightmare sunless sky

drawn from the depths of forgotten traumas

a thousand brisk switches leaving bloody trails

the gold within my heart not worth the trouble

aggressive word witch with a way to walk that says

stop where you are, stay the fuck away

I am not your delightful, delicate princess

not your pretty pop tart teen queen dream

hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and I

am scorn personified

I'll tear out your throat with pointed teeth

I'll rip out your heart with my bare hands

I am ground glass in your hipster latte

I am claws scraping over metal in a dark alley

I am a decaying, dirty city, ugly and gritty

I spit your name black from my mouth

I despise and disdain everything you stand for

and contrary to what you have told yourself

I wouldn't want to be like you

shallow and flighty, fading to nothing when exposed to light

blowing on the whims of any breeze that happens by

you are nothing and nobody, a Barbie doll princess

but looks fade and boys cheat and if your worth is tied up

in whether or not some creep thinks your tits are fine

and your ass is hot

then you will live your life chasing impossible perfection

botox and liposuction and spending each waking hour

obsessing on whether your ass is too fat

I am the nightmare you so fear becoming

old and fat and unwanted and pissed off as hell

I'm waiting for you around the next corner

so if you don't want to waste your life fearing becoming

what we all one way or another eventually do

concentrate on what's inside, on your soul, not your looks

on your skills and your truth and the strength of your self

youth is here today, gone tomorrow like a popular song

but the blues lives forever

real, gritty, unpretty

tarnished, unvarnished

sometimes mean as hell

taking shit from nobody

surviving with the middle finger flying high

to stupid conventions

and soulless fucks

who want to steal your thunder

'cause they've got none of their own

the blues can be your best friend

but the blues can fuck you up 

the blues don't bow down to nobody

the blues don't get played for a fool

so be your own dream

not what someone else tells you

don't be a bubblegum pop tart illusion

be true to yourself

be the blues

Sincerely,

The Ornery Fucking Old Lady

Not apologizing to anybody

NaPoWriMo: Write a poem about your favorite kind of music.

Blues is the backbone of rock of any genre. The blues is real, bare-bones, angry, no-bullshit music with a story. The blues doesn't ask you to be pretty or happy. The blues is real. 

April PAD Challenge: Write a dream poem. I'm pretty much everyone's worst nightmare.

Poem Genre: Slam poetry

Word List

Sunless,

Drawn,

Forgotten,

Brisk,

Thousand,

Gold, 

And/or

Delicate,

Walk,

Aggressive,

Word,

Witch,

Stop,

Insecure Writers Support Group Meets COVID-19

April 1 question - The IWSG’s focus is on our writers. Each month, from all over the globe, we are a united group sharing our insecurities, our troubles, and our pain. So, in this time when our world is in crisis with the covid-19 pandemic, our optional question this month is: how are things in your world?

The world wags on. I live in a remote rural area, and if I didn't have to emerge to do stupid things like going to the pharmacy (it's always a fight to get the necessary amount of insulin), going to finish clearing out an old mobile home to get it ready to put on the market or paying the weekly visit to my mother (300-mile round trip) I would rarely emerge. (Not saying that going to visit my mother is stupid, but the other two things are definitely a source of aggravation.)

Since I do freelance work from home due to being disabled, my life has, fortunately, not been significantly impacted by the Hell Virus. I know that if I were to be infected by a serious case of it, I'd be dead. I have asthma and diabetes. I'm 55 years old and disabled, and the world already thinks that people who look like me should die. I would be triaged as not worth saving. I probably should be scared, but if I put my energy into being scared nothing gets done. So, I get on with things.

I loathe the Orange Menace occupying the White House. His narcissism during this time of crisis is beyond the pale. He should have been hauled out in handcuffs when he was impeached, but like toenail fungus, he remains. I have more respect for toenail fungus than I do for my country's so-called "president."

Yeah, that's about what I've got for now. My snarky alter-egos Ornery Owl and Sly Fawkes collaborated to make this post, which is worth what you paid for it.

Fat and Ornery

Image copyright Open Clipart Vectors on Pixabay

Sly and Snarky

Image copyright juliahenze @123rf.com

Fat Friday: Thoughts from an Irritating Overweight Woman

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

As my fan club of -666 readers knows, I review books for a living, such as it is.

I was presented with a book to possibly review, and was, initially, excited. It was a collection of short stories about a group of female friends.

The short story is an undervalued art and female friendships are an undervalued treasure. I was interested in reading this until I saw one of the characters described by another reviewer as "an irritating overweight woman."

The comment about the "irritating overweight woman" gave me pause. Why is her weight such a determining factor in her characterization? Many authors tend to write large people in a negative light. As a person who fights with my abusive partner ED (Eating Disorder) constantly, I don't really need to read works that vilify people who look like me. It's a shame because a good short story collection about female friendship sounded like just the ticket.

I decided to give the book a hard pass.

Authors (like society as a whole) love to scapegoat, stereotype, and vilify large people. I have enough problems wrestling with ED on a daily basis. I don't really need to read fiction putting down people who look like me yet again. ED does that quite often enough.

Fat and Ornery

Image copyright Open Clipart Vectors

Sly and Snarky

Image copyright juliahenze @123rf.com

November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 11: Prime Time Pantoum

Image by methodshop from Pixabay

Trying to model my life

To be more like the pretty people

Starring on glitzy, prime-time TV shows

Is an exercise in futility

To be more like the pretty people

I try to hate myself into conformity

Starring on glitzy, prime-time TV shows

A destructive, soul-stealing dream

I try to hate myself into conformity

Starring on glitzy, prime-time TV shows

A destructive, soul-stealing dream

Is an exercise in futility

~Cie~

Notes:

Today's November PAD Chapbook Challenge asks participants to write a "prime" poem. I chose the phrase "prime time" and the Pantoum form. 

November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 10: Tyranny of Perfection

Image by PublicDomainPictures from Pixabay

so I got to thinking

what if Death 

isn't a grim dude in a black hood

but is instead

an annoyingly perfect and perfectionistic

aerobics instructor

who chirps at you

that it's time to do your cardi-oh-oh

and when you do those leg lifts

you've gotta squeeze those glutes

because if you don't squeeze 'em

no-one else will

and I kind of got to thinking

what if I don't want my life

to revolve around whether or not

some dudebro wants to

play grab-ass with me

and then that chipper death

chirped at me that I

need to mind my carbs and calories

because fat is the very worst thing

that a person can possibly be

and then I got to thinking

that maybe that's not true

that in fact the worst thing a person

can possibly be

is a sanctimonious twat

who refuses to respect

other people's lives and conditions and preferences

and bodily autonomy

and who really can just fuck off

and then I got to wondering 

if maybe that's the way Death works

is by annoying people to death

by making them fight all day every day

with vicious inner voices

that tell them they're no good

because they have dimpled thighs

or chunky butts

or saggy boobs

or tummy rolls

or they just aren't perky-werky enough

and then I got to thinking 

that maybe what happens

is people get tired 

of hearing Death's annoying voice

bleating at them to get up and at 'em

because nobody who isn't perfect

deserves to have a life

and so they smash the snooze bar

on their internal clock

one too many times

in an attempt to shut the annoying bitch up

once and for all

~Cie~

Notes:

Today's November PAD Chapbook Challenge asked for a (blank) of (blank) poem. I initially went with "hands of time," which is how I found the image of the perky aerobics instructor looking lady with her watch. I started thinking about all the years and time and money I spent trying to hate myself thin, and it really pissed me off that the message people (especially women) are sent from the moment we draw breath isn't "take care of yourself because you are worthwhile regardless of your size or looks," it's "if you girls aren't thin and pretty in a very specific way, you are garbage and don't deserve happiness." 

So, I changed the title of my poem to Tyranny of Perfection and wrote about what it feels like to fight with the hateful internal dialogue that has been crammed down my throat for as long as I can remember. It would be nice to be able to just BE, without having to fight with these horrible messages from the cradle to the grave. Doing so is the biggest fucking waste of time and a waste of a perfectly good life too.

Carpe Diem Little Ones: Sedoka: In the Mirror

Image by Michael Gaida from Pixabay

Face in the mirror

Painting its cheeks with color

While painting its heart with lies

Painted-on pretty

Never healed a single wound

I was lying to myself

~Cie~

Notes:

It's been said that I have body dysmorphic disorder. In any case, I have always thought myself shockingly, astoundingly, hideously ugly. I used to wear a lot of make-up. I haven't worn make-up in about 15 years because it causes my eczema to flare.

I think this society places far too much value on a very narrow definition of physical "beauty." We live in a world where hotness is the most desired attribute and lust is the most coveted sensation. I don't think this is healthy for either individuals or society as a whole.

Carpe Diem Summer Challenge 2019: Beach Party for Every Body

Image by David Shaw from Pixabay

What I have been wondering for a long time is this.

Why is it that when you have a bunch of stupid guys on a beach and a person with the “wrong” kind of body walks by, and they yell terrible and mean-spirited things at this person who is minding their own business,

Why is everyone’s response to ignore and even justify their behavior rather than shouting them down?

Why shouldn’t everyone be allowed to relax and have fun at the beach or the pool?

Why is it only fun for those whose bodies have been deemed attractive enough?

Why shouldn’t fat people and skinny people and people with scars and stretch marks and ladies with saggy boobs and men with round pot bellies and hairy folks and scrawny scarecrow guys and gals with arms and legs like Betty Spaghetti have a nice time too?

I think it’s rather boring when the only people who can go for a swim without feeling self-conscious and like they must keep covered up are young people with the “right” kind of body.

Shouldn’t we have gotten past the idea that the only people whose bodies should be seen are sleek, unblemished, photoshopped visions of pornographic “perfection?”

Shouldn’t the beach be a place where everyone can cool off, not yet another spot where only the hottest hotties are allowed?

Beach parties are fun

For those with the right body

Not so much for those

Whose bodies have been deemed wrong

Ignoring not an option

~Cie~

Real Cie Reviews: An Equally Worthy Child

Disclosure: 
I received a free copy of this book for review purposes.
This is a duplicate of my review of this product on Amazon.

This brief book gets right to the point in addressing a problem which is extremely prevalent in a society demanding a certain very specific variety of excellence and perfection from all its citizens. The author initially discusses her own feelings of being "less worthy" despite being a good student who was accepted by her peers and growing up in a stable household where she was treated well by her parents and her needs were provided for.

The age-old nature vs. nurture debate is addressed in the book. The author provides evidence that the nurture component is the one which plays a key role in whether or not a person feels worthy. Even individuals who grow up in impoverished circumstances may feel equally worthy if feelings of worth were modeled by their parents and passed on to them.

As someone who grew up in a household where accomplishments, a certain type of very narrowly defined physical attractiveness, and wealth were measures of success, I failed in every way. I learned at a very young age that I was a "bad" child and not worthy. My parents saw themselves as failures. As often happens in such a situation, there is one child who excels and one who constantly fails. My brother was an overachiever who pushed himself well beyond his limits constantly. Although he was not a stellar student, he excelled in other areas such as sports, and he was very popular. I was a B student who was physically uncoordinated, I was physically unattractive, and I was the target of bullying. I used drugs and alcohol to cope with the cruel way I was treated by my peers, with my parents' evident disappointment in me, and with my then-undiagnosed mental illness.

The author's revelations of her own struggles spoke to me, although her experiences were not the same as mine. This book is written in an easy-to-read fashion without talking down to its audience. It addresses a serious societal problem: the push to create a society populated by only the sorts of people who reach a very high bar in areas of perceived physical attractiveness and personal accomplishment. Anyone who falls below these ludicrously elevated standards is not only "less worthy," they "deserve" to be treated as less than human, not even afforded the common decency of being allowed to live their lives in peace and basic comfort. Those who do not measure up "deserve" to be dehumanized, ridiculed, and forced to live in poverty according to these twisted standards.

The author postulates that everyone has a place and that everyone deserves to be treated as having an equal measure of worth. It is fine to praise people for high accomplishments, but those who cannot or do not wish to strive for such accomplishments are no less worthy than those who are society's "high achievers." I quite agree with the author on this point. Our world would be a much better place if we treated all people as equally worthy, regardless of their perceived ambition, attractiveness, intellect, innovation, or ability to perform for an audience. I believe that people as a whole would be much happier and there would be far fewer deaths caused by stress-related illnesses, far less anxiety and depression due to perceived personal inadequacy, and, thus, a greatly reduced suicide rate.

My criticism regarding the book is minor. I too learned to use "he" as the default in writing about a person whose sex is unspecified. From my point of view, this is archaic and sets men and boys as the default and women and girls as an aberration or second-class person.

I would also like to see the term "overweight" disappear. Over what weight? If the person is large or heavy, refer to them as large or heavy. We have all been taught to "other" larger people, and terms like "overweight" and the even worse "obese" pathologize big folks. It is possible to point out society's prejudiced attitudes towards heavy people without othering those people.

Aside from these issues, I have nothing but praise for this book. It is a brief, thought-provoking read written in simple language. I recommend it to everyone who has ever felt "less worthy" or who has pushed themselves to the breaking point to prove their worth. A job well done by a bright, thoughtful, and fully worthy individual!

~Cie~

Inspire Me Monday #224 + Spread the Kindness #119: Real Cie Reviews: Eighth Grade

This post is a duplicate of my review of this product for Amazon.

4 out of 5 stars

Elsie Fisher does a marvelous job as the insecure, likable Kayla and Josh Hamilton plays his role as the sweet but sometimes irritatingly out-of-touch and overprotective dad perfectly. Kayla's high school mentor Olivia is adorable if a bit clueless. There is the eye-roll-inducing stereotypical pretty mean girl Kennedy, and Kayla's crush Aiden has all the personality of wallpaper paste.

The movie does a nice job of addressing sensitive subject matter such as Kayla's panic attacks. I was a teenager in the late seventies and early eighties, and was unable to discuss my psychological issues with anyone for fear of being placed on a psych ward or dismissed as "seeking attention" or being "overly dramatic." When I read about bipolar disorder (then called manic depression) in my junior year psychology class, I recognized myself in a lot of the symptoms. I approached the subject with the teacher and she told me I couldn't be manic depressive because manic depression was a psychosis and I wasn't psychotic. I would not be properly diagnosed with type 2 bipolar disorder until I was nearly 40 years old.  If nothing else, movies such as this one approach issues such as panic attacks without pathologizing the person suffering from them.

The movie also does a good job of addressing the pressure on teens, particularly teenage girls, to be sexy and sexually active. Olivia's creepy friend Riley attempts to pressure Kayla into removing her shirt during a game of Truth or Dare when they are alone in his car together, and Kayla's crush Aiden is rumored to have broken up with a previous girlfriend because she wouldn't send him nude photos.

The movie is appropriate for teenagers. Kayla is a relatable character, an ordinary and likable if socially awkward young woman. I found myself thinking that it was a shame for her to waste any time or energy on a shallow, self-absorbed twit like Kennedy or a limp dishrag like Aiden. 

Teens struggling with feeling like they don't fit in and those of us who used to be (and sometimes still are) the odd one out will feel a kinship with Kayla and be proud of her as she learns to stand up for herself.

~Cie~

Also sharing to the Spread the Kindness blog hop on Tuesday April 23, 2019.

Introducing the Blog Hops Index and Keeping it Real

Image by RitaE from Pixabay

No, not the kind of hops shown above. Although my son is interested in starting homebrewing once he has a new place.

I want to introduce you to my comprehensive index of blog hops that I participate in. April is my busiest month for blog hops. There are two poetry blog hops, NaPoWriMo and the Imaginary Garden With Real Toads Poems in April. Like, one of y'all couldn't do your poems in May or something? There is also the A to Z Blogging Challenge. Then there are the photography blog hops that I at least semi-regularly participate in.

You will notice that most of the blogs on my list are literary or artistic. Some of the blog hops I participate in tend to lean towards fashion, and I feel like the odd one out, which, let's be honest, isn't unusual. I am pretty odd. 

I don't feel like I belong with most of the participants in these blog hops, who share very glamorous photos of themselves in pretty clothes with flawless make-up. I am the opposite of glamorous. I look like an unmade bed on my best day. I am not pretty, and I can't afford pretty clothes. I haven't worn make-up in more than fifteen years. 

I look like this. You can see my endocrine problems in my puffy face with the red patches. I have problems with eczema, which make-up makes worse.

That's my buddy Crowley with me.

The one thing I believe is that nobody has the right to ridicule anybody regardless of how unattractive they may find that person. No, I am not young, thin, or pretty. I still deserve to be treated with common decency and respect.

Image by Jonas Svidras from Pixabay

Still, when you look like I do and you know damn good and well that nobody thinks that looks pretty or fashionable, and you're visiting blogs where the people have photos of themselves looking like the image above, you start feeling like maybe you came from a different planet. 

I used to use self-deprecating "humor" when it came to my physical appearance. I won't do that anymore. Physically speaking, I see other people as physically attractive or neutral. There are no physically ugly people. The ugliness comes out in their personality. A person can look like the physically attractive young woman above and still be an ugly person, or they can look a little bit something like me and still be a genuinely beautiful person. 

I'm not saying that I think that I'm beautiful. That's not something I could ever think. However, as far as looks go, mine are neutral in my eyes, or at least I strive to make them so. Nobody gets to build themselves up by tearing me down anymore. I will rip them a new one without a second thought.

Eleanor Roosevelt at the United Nations, July 1947

Here is a photo of one of the most beautiful people who has ever existed. Period. 

Eleanor Roosevelt was also quite fashionable, but she cared more about helping people than she did about making herself look pretty. I highly recommend Ken Burns' documentary on The Roosevelts, which I saw on Netflix last month.

Whenever I feel unpretty, which is actually quite often, I remind myself that no-one, including me, has the right to make me feel bad about myself based on my looks. Sometimes that shuts the hateful tapes in my head down enough that I can move on to something else.

You won't find fashion-based blog hops on my list, although some of the blogs on my list feature fashionable people. Only the most beautiful blogs have made the cut! 

This is an ever-growing list. If you're looking for mostly creative but not always fashionable blog hops, consider bookmarking the page!

~Cie~

Cheesy Cinema Review: The Christmas Chronicles Would Have Been Better Without the Side Order of Size Shaming

I may be a curmudgeon, but I'm not unrealistic. I expect holiday movies to be trope-laden and sappy. Unless you're watching Santa Slasher 666 or, as Beavis would say, a "Christmas Classic" starring such fine quality thespians as Tiny Johnson and Bob Scratchit, you can expect either barf-inducing heartwarming romantic drama or family-friendly drama probably involving cute but weird elves somewhere in the mix. Knowing these things, I steeled myself for whatever extra helping of syrupy sweetness might be lurking in the Christmas Chronicles to raise my blood sugar levels.
First, the positives. The kids are adorable and the young actors performing the parts of Katie and Teddy did a marvelous job. Kurt Russell really hits the mark as a slightly grouchy, no-nonsense Santa. However, I was dismayed by the amount of size shaming and diet culture promotion.
Had it happened only once, I would have rolled my eyes and moved on. However, it happened multiple times, including a scene where the sleigh hits a billboard advertising Coke products with the image of a portly Santa enjoying a Coke. Santa shouts: "take that, Fat Man!"
Shaking my damn head. Not only was the size shaming not necessary, but the levels of at the very least subconscious vehemence and hatred towards larger people was absolutely uncalled for. Also, do the writers really thinks that Santa is so vain that all he cares about is being perceived as slim and sexy? I honestly find such people quite a bore and I would hope that if Santa were real, he wouldn't be a self-centered dullard.
As a curmudgeonly adult, I found the size bashing dismal and enraging. I can only imagine how it would seem to a big kid watching that movie. The inherent message they will take away is not "family needs to stick together," but "fat is the very worst thing you can possibly be. Even Santa hates fat people."
Hollywood really needs to stop with the lame-ass fat jokes whenever they find themselves at a loss for comic relief. If you can't include larger people in your story in a positive way, at the very least don't include them just to make them the butt of mean-spirited "humor".
Every kid deserves to feel like he or she is okay just as he or she is all year 'round, but I feel that a positive, family-friendly holiday movie needs to take a bit of extra care to make sure they aren't alienating and shaming certain already stigmatized populations.

~The Cheese Hath Grated It~

30 Days of De-Objectification: Teen Idols

Click to Enlarge

Photoshop creation by The Real Cie

30 Days of De-Objectification:

Teen Idols

It’s hard to think of instances where being a teen idol helped a performer without harming them in some way. I can think of far more instances where “teen idol” status was destructive and, in some cases, deadly for those upon whom it was bestowed.

It is the nature of young people to be hopeful and eager to please. These qualities render them easily victimized by unscrupulous individuals who, in fact, care nothing about their well-being.

People who were child stars and/or teen idols either depart show business entirely once their heyday is over, or they spiral down. It is unfortunate that the public tends to laugh at the misfortune of these fallen stars rather than to feel sympathy for them. Schadenfraude is ugly.

Off the top of my head, I can think of a couple people who came away from child or teen stardom unscathed. The first is Shirley Temple. She left show business.

The second is Shaun Cassidy. Shaun saw what the star-maker machine did to his older brother David, and he didn’t take his own teen idol status terribly seriously. In one interview, he revealed that he always preferred being behind the camera to being in front of it. Shaun’s sensible approach as well as support and guidance from David and his mother, Shirley Jones, helped ensure that he came through the teen idol experience unscathed.

Unlike Shaun, David’s life was troubled. He never enjoyed the pretty boy pop star persona created by his management team. Backstage, he would often play songs like “Voodoo Child.” He was interested in performing harder rock music, but, thanks to his teen idol status, he was never taken seriously as a musician. Throughout his life, David struggled with addiction and had trouble maintaining relationships.

“The Two Coreys” are another example of the destructive nature of the way child and teen stars are treated. Corey Feldman is alive, but he is hardly unscathed. He realizes that he is the butt of jokes. He has stated that he doesn’t consider the assaults he endured (groping and lewd suggestions) to be as severe as those endured by his late friend, Corey Haim, who was raped.

Corey Feldman is a sweet if somewhat eccentric personality. It would be shameful to ridicule him in any case, but, considering the abuses and losses he’s endured, it is doubly so.

Brittney Spears is thriving at this point in her life, but that wasn’t always the case. Exploited at a young age, the pressure to maintain a “sexy” persona and flawless physique eventually caused her to have a psychological breakdown. Fortunately, Brittney received positive support and is doing well. I applaud her for publishing the unretouched photos from the Candies shoe campaign she modeled for. I’m glad she’s still here.

When I see someone like Justin Bieber acting out, I may feel on one hand that he’s making himself look foolish, but, on the other hand, I understand why he is behaving as he is. A lot of pressure is put on people like Justin to be the image that was created for them. People want Justin Bieber to continue to be the cute, mop-topped teenager that he was when he was discovered, even though he is now in his mid-twenties.

It is one thing to expect people to behave civilly. It is another to ridicule people, set them up for failure, and then expect them to behave normally. Someone like Justin Bieber hasn’t had a normal existence in a long time.

As the late Carrie Fisher said, youth and beauty are not accomplishments, they are accidents of time and DNA. It is high time that society ceased behaving as if youth and beauty are the highest of accomplishments. Beauty is subjective, and youth always fades, unless a life ends prematurely.

We need to be kinder to one another as a whole, and we need to stop perpetuating the attitude of exploiting and burning out teen and child performers.

~The Cheese Hath Grated It~