Should Breasts Be An Open Source Project?

Will programmers even understand?

While I’m rather technologically challenged at times, I have developed a love for open source projects. I can usually find programs to do exactly what I want, instantly get it on my computer, and when I break it there’s tons of help in the form of wikis, forums, and devoted developers. Therefore, it was no wonder that the following blog title caught my attention: Open Source Boob Project.

That’s right: Open Source + boobs

Okay. My imagination scrambled. Could it be software for porn? For plastic surgeons? Did Boob stand for big object-oriented barnacles? Bran Oreos or beans?

Nope, boobs meant breasts. The mammary glands of mammals.

It seems that at the recent PenguiCon a group of people (I can’t figure out if they were all men) decided to ask attendees (not necessarily just women) if they could feel his or her breasts for the following purpose:

“It was an Open-Source Project, making breasts available to select folks. (Like any good project, you need access control, because there are loutish men and women who just Don’t Get It.) And we wanted a signal to let people know that they were okay with being asked politely…”

People were given buttons saying “Yes, you may” (feel my breasts) or “No, you may not” (feel my breasts). Accounts on exactly how these exchanges took place seem to vary wildly from simple, quick question sessions to groups of men descending on helpless breasts. Needless to say, there are a number of blogs and resulting comments that are dissecting the event with opinions ranging from stupid but harmless fun to no women will ever feel safe at a conference again.

I can’t tell you how I would have felt if these people had come up to me at a conference and asked to feel my breasts. It really would depend on my mood. The one point I’m getting stuck on is the people who have declared that it was a terrible question to ask in the first place. That I don’t agree with. Why can’t people ask any question they want? A question is a search for knowledge. Is some knowledge taboo to ask for?

Now that person you’re asking the question of doesn’t have to give you the answer you think you want to hear. You may ask me if you can feel my breasts anytime you want. I might say yes, no, none of your business, or this isn’t the appropriate time/place/audience to discuss/feel this topic. But I don’t think it is right that people censor their questions. Questions are good. I like to think questions bring truth, knowledge, and justice to the surface.

Now, there are others that feel such a question objectifies women. That men are reducing females to body parts with no minds. I have to admit I don’t really understand what objectifying women means. If it means that some man only thinks about me as a pair of breasts, pale thighs, or as a blond bimbo and not as an educated woman who likes sushi and French films…well…so what? I don’t care what he thinks about me. Why? Because frankly, it would never cross my mind that someone else is thinking about my breasts and ONLY my breasts. I don’t think of me as only my breasts. And the only thoughts that matter about me come from me (self-absorbed, I know). I’m probably naive and myopic for having that point of view, but well, this is my blog darnit. I definitely have to send this issue on to my sister though. She’ll have a field day (ranting at me) and actually understand the points about patriarchy.

My sister says women get objectified constantly-advertisements being a huge culprit-but everything she hates, I seem to just think as pretty, funny, or art. She would say I’ve objectified myself since my breasts are right here on this page. *sigh* Really, the breasts were just a good place to stick the mouse. I don’t take my breasts that seriously, I don’t take men or women staring at them seriously. I don’t really take anything seriously, which may be why I’m having difficulty relating to the people who are angry and disgusted at this situation. Many of the other bloggers speak of fear and horror.

kate_nepveu writes:

“If you are a stranger, especially a man, perhaps especially in a group of other strangers who are men, and you come up to me and say, “You’re very beautiful. I’d like to touch your breasts. Would you mind if I did?”:

You will put me in fear.

Because you could be someone who will go away quietly if I say no (which I will). You could be the exiled gay prince of Farlandia, cursed to wander this Earth looking for the key to his return that can only be revealed by touching the breast of a willing stranger, and who isn’t enjoying this at all. You could, in short, not be a danger to me.

But how am I supposed to know that?”

Suzanne Reisman writes:

“Personally, I’m not sure what I would do. I honestly think I would be frozen, shocked and horrified that some stranger would randomly approach me and ask to paw me. I’m sure I’d be embarrassed, creeped out, and feel like crying and/or puking. Yet this is what many women who attended PenguiCon were faced with during this year’s conference, which took place from April 18-20.”

I admit that I have never been in a situation that has caused me this type of fear. However, I’m very sure this fear does exist for other women and men, so please, don’t smack me, I’m not dissing this feeling at all. In reaction to the campaign groping at conferences (and groping in general seems to be a long term problem at these events), there is now a new open source project: Open Source Women Back Each Other Up Program.

While I don’t understand all the hubbub about the right to ask this question, the ethics versus the morals, or how it objectifies women, I can see that this was a bad idea. Was an open source and science fiction conference a good place to have a study about breasts? It might have been better at a gender roles or psychology conference. Announcements of the experiment should have been posted prior to the event, perhaps with legal disclaimers and such (because this is America and I just betcha, somewhere, a lawyer is getting all excited about this discussion (think lawsuit, not sex, people)).

So should breasts and the quest to demystify how they feel be an open source project? No. And the answer about why not is far simpler than morals, men and womens’ relationships with each others’ body parts, and the quest for knowledge.

I told the programmer there was an open source project about breasts while his fingers caressed the worn black keys of his laptop. His cha-cha typing stopped and he looked up at me, his brow slightly wrinkled.

He said, “how can you code a boob?”

Ahh, the straightforward simplicity of a programmer. Trust me, he doesn’t know what objectifying women is either.

Please, Don’t Creep Your Lover Out On Valentine’s Day

My programmer has a hard time remembering dates…anniversaries, major holidays, and birthdays. Lucky for him, I have this affliction also, so there are no tears or screaming if the appropriate cards, kisses, and gifts aren’t supplied right on time. I only remember my own birthday because I have a much younger sister who delights in telling me and everyone else how ancient I am and also how my life is over since I’m married. (She only continues to live because her quick death at my hands would upset my mother, something I really strive not to do. Plus, one day I figure my mother really will get fed up with my sister’s abominable cleaning skills and sell her to a desert sheik-a favorite threat in my family’s household. But this is a whole other story). Long and short of it, if it weren’t for my sister, and the super-saturation of marketing that retail stores do around a holiday, my husband and I would live in oblivion to such events.

When I do realize it is Valentine’s Day, I get all soft and gooey. I have a serious girly-girl fetish for all things pink and heart-shaped. But this doesn’t mean I want roses and a cardboard box of chocolates. Flowers die-this makes me sad. Bring me a live plant instead, say an African violet, a funky cactus, a palm tree. The symbology behind giving your lover something that dies in a week creeps me out. Does this mean you won’t love me when all the petals fall off the roses?

As for chocolates, don’t get me wrong, I like chocolate. But in this house, chocolate is a necessity, not an indulgence. I’ve already got bowls of high-end dark chocolate in just about every room. My programmer goes bonkers if he doesn’t have a couple pieces a day. So I’m certainly not going to feel special if you show up with a cheap box of drugstore milk chocolate. Give the love of your life something they don’t get everyday, no matter how much they like it. Try for something unusual, unique…something new.

Now let’s talk about lingerie. I LOVE lingerie. But I don’t want you buying it for me. Why? Because it isn’t going to fit. Let’s be frank. I don’t have a Victoria’s Secret model’s body and never will without major plastic surgery and leg extensions. I have difficulty buying myself silky little bits of naughty. I’ve got to try it on first. Case in point: there was this frilly, super-temptress corset I adored. Picked out my size and slinked back to the dressing room just knowing I was going to look awesome in it and my panting programmer was going to melt to the floor in a puddle of lust.

Got the corset on and was truly horrified. Jaw dropped to the floor. The corset should have been called the Magic Boob Evaporator. No boobage what so ever. I kept stuffing my hand down the front thinking I just needed to plump up the packages. Nope. Instead, it just flattened my hand. You would have thought this miraculous slimming garment would have also flatten my tummy.

That would be a no.

I’d been shaped into a green and black lace bedecked pyramid. Narrow at the top and bulging at the bottom. Not attractive. So if I can’t even pick out my own lingerie without spending hours in the store, you’re probably not going to be able to either. Oh, and another tip. If she’s not in the mood, and you present her with lingerie, it’s probably just going to piss her off more. The fight will start something like this: “All you ever think about is sex…“

However, men, feel free to buy sexy little things for yourself. My programmer once bought a very skimpy piece of underwear and then surprised me with a striptease. He’s still recovering from the rug burns…

Finally, let’s talk about jewelry. This one is hard (no puns or innuendos intended-get your mind out of the gutter people!). I like jewelry and don’t mind getting it for Valentine’s Day. But don’t bring me the necklace or earrings that have been hawked on TV since before Christmas. I’ll know you didn’t think about the gift; you let the marketers pick it out. And what if I don’t like diamonds or rubies? I’m a semi-precious stone kinda girl. Once again, make sure you cater to your significant other’s tastes. Don’t get her silver if she hates silver. This will just upset her more than if you didn’t get her any gift at all. It shows that you don’t pay attention to what she likes and dislikes. Also, if your girl (or guy) does like jewelry and you have her tastes down pat, don’t get her jewelry ever year. This is like scheduling sex for every third Saturday of the month. BORING. Gifts should be a surprise. A new experience. Most of all, they should show how much you care.