The 358th Five Star Mixtape Great Blog Roundup Is Brought to You By Shobhaa Dé

This week's Five Star Mixtape is brought to you by suppression and release, gaslighting, the terrorists among us, uncooperative hair, acquaintances, and Shobhaa Dé:

 by Bollywood Hungama [ CC BY 3.0 ],  via Wikimedia Commons

by Bollywood Hungama [CC BY 3.0], via Wikimedia Commons

Mediocrity comforts the masses. Mediocrity is a likeable attribute.
— Shobhaa Dé —

Happy reading!

"Policing My Mouth: On the Art of Self-Censorship" by Deb Rox at TueNight:

It took me many years to figure out that my grade school crusades and years of activism were proxies to the silences I held about my family’s dysfunction. Lacking a window of discourse back then, I [chose] to self-censor about my own well-being while papering the streets about everything else. I sat in the principal’s office, peeling masking tape from my hair but never imagined telling her the really big story while I was in there.

"This Isn’t About The Ghomeshi Case" by Lauren Dobson-Hughes at A Fate of Possibilities:

We held our own bodies in such contempt, we didn’t know we had a right to object. We assumed we were open for business, with no right of refusal. Our bodies are public space, exposed for comment, ridicule and assault.

"Tabletop Gaming Has a White Male Terrorism Problem" by De Scriptorice at Latining:

I am a gamer. I followed the call of Cthulhu and ran in the shadows with hackers and shamans. I traversed the ancient lands of Greyhawk, Faerun, and Eberron with companions new and old. I swung from an airship and buckled swash over London for the Kerberos Club. I threw dice and flipped cards and ground men into dust playing table-top wargames.

I don’t do that anymore.

"The Hair Intervention" by Cindy Reed at Reedster Speaks:

But I had no business curling my hair in the junior high bathroom. They might as well have handed me a circular saw and sent me to shop class to build shelving for all I knew about how curling irons worked. My sisters were grown, in college, and there was a curling iron at home, yes, caked with years of hairspray, but I had no idea how to operate it other than to turn it on and watch the red dot turn slowly to black, signifying danger, not beauty.

"No Hope, No Baseball" by Jan Wilberg at Red's Wrap:

It was, of course, so true, the news delivered so matter of factly that it had to have been true for a while. Maybe it was true the last time I saw the guy on the right just a few weeks ago but no one said anything so no cheerful tidings of recovery were offered. He was the same as always. Sitting there, muttering about the pitching…

Five Star Mixtape great blog roundup

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