As long as animals are “Other,” fellow humans can be “Othered.”

 

‘Look back at some of the most tragic episodes in human history and you will find words and images that stripped people of their basic human traits. In the Nazi era, the film The Eternal Jew depicted Jews as rats. During the Rwandan genocide, Hutu officials called Tutsis “cockroaches” that needed to be cleared out.

In the wake of World War II, psychologists wanted to understand how the genocide had happened. And we got Stanley Milgram’s infamous electroshock experiment, which showed how quickly people cave to authority. There was also Philip Zimbardo’s “prison experiment,” which showed how easily people in positions of power can abuse others. At Stanford, Albert Bandura, showed that when participants overhear an experimenter call another study subject “an animal,” they’re more likely to give that subject a painful shock. If you think of murder and torture as universally taboo, then dehumanization of the “other” is a psychological loophole that can justify them.’

[Via]

February Roundup: Spring’s already sprung and we’re all gonna die #ClimateChange

Here’s the highlights for the CIRCO blog last month:

Gabbler recommended some things, including this overview of the strong woman Vulcana.

We read and quoted from The Geek Feminist Revolution by Kameron Hurley.

We started a new satirical ad campaign that involved Xena Warrior Princess and Trump.

Our favorite BookTuber Tuesday post for February was this one.

GIF of the month:

And remember: in March, women keep marching. We march with them.

Is dying really an art?

“F. Scott Fitzgerald used to claim that he wrote with ‘the authority of failure,’ and he did. It was a source of power in his later work. But the authority of failure is but a pale shadow of the authority of suicide, as we feel it in Ariel and in The Bell Jar. This is not so much because Sylvia Plath, in taking her own life, gave her readers a certain ghoulish interest they could not bring to most poems and novels, though this is no doubt partly true. It is because she knew that she was ‘Lady Lazarus.’ Her works do not only come to us posthumously. They were written posthumously. Between suicides. She wrote her novel and her Ariel poems feverishly, like a person ‘stuck together with glue’ and aware that the glue was melting. Should we be grateful for such things? Can we accept the price she paid for what she has given us? Is dying really an art?”

[Via]

GABBLER RECOMMENDS: Youtube Channel that teaches you how to live in your car

Cataloging here in case we become hobos.

In other news, our book is for sale here.

Even these muses are inspired…