Winged_Wheel88
ND 14 UM 45
That one's easy. People like breasts better than they like prostates.
Not to mention no one wants to see yellow-green pizza boxes, yellow-green towels and gloves on sports players, yellow-green pins...
That one's easy. People like breasts better than they like prostates.
My group has been organizing a 'show us what we're saving' campaign in conjunction with breast cancer awareness month.
Not to mention no one wants to see yellow-green pizza boxes, yellow-green towels and gloves on sports players, yellow-green pins...
I think the guy who thinks Hextall won the Cup with Philly in '75 was involved in this somehow?
Two things from that video:
1) What was with all the sign language?
2) What in the hell was that black chick in the Devils Jersey doing?
Two things from that video:
1) What was with all the sign language?
2) What in the hell was that black chick in the Devils Jersey doing?
If Philly fans are going to boo anything, it should be this chick for not following through:
[YOUTUBE]KTi_fr3JOKE&feature=related[/YOUTUBE]
Two things from that video:
1) What was with all the sign language?
2) What in the hell was that black chick in the Devils Jersey doing?
She didn't have no moustache.
It has been almost 20 years since pink ribbons first appeared on the cultural landscape, a symbol of hope, empowerment and determination to put an end to breast cancer.
But finding a cure for a disease that claims 5,400 Canadians each year has proven to be an elusive goal, and the pink ribbon movement is under increasing scrutiny over corporate partnerships that, at times, push the boundaries of absurdity.
The pink movement started as a way to bring awareness about breast cancer to a world that still felt squeamish about saying the word "breast."
Now, 20 years later, there are pink fire trucks and pink cement mixers.
You can dress yourself headto-toe in pink-ribbon attire. The NFL urges fans to "Get Your Pink On." You can buy a package of mushrooms in a pink tray, a motorboat with a pink stripe and a pink Kitchen-Aid stand mixer.
You can run for the cure, walk for the cure and cook for the cure. Dog-sledding buffs in Minnesota hold a "Mush for a Cure."
Over the last two decades, the breast cancer mortality rate has fallen 35 per cent, according to the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation. That is, a woman diagnosed with breast cancer today is 35 per cent less likely to die within five years of a breast cancer diagnosis than she was 20 years ago.
But a Canadian woman still has a one-in-nine chance of being diagnosed with breast cancer in her lifetime. And 22,000 Canadian women - and some men - will be diagnosed with breast cancer this year.
There are better medications and targeted treatments today, but one thing is indisputable - there is no cure, says Rosanne Cohen, executive director of Breast Cancer Action Montreal, an advocacy group that objects to cause marketing.
Cohen says it's difficult not to feel petty when you're being critical of the upbeat side of cancer culture. But she believes more focus has to be put on serious issues, including the environmental causes of breast cancer.
"Finding a cure is something I'm all in favour of. But we have to put focus, research, money and value on digging out what is causing breast cancer beyond personal lifestyle choices," she says.
Samantha King, now a cultural studies professor at Queen's University in Kingston, Ont., was a PhD student in 1998 when she stumbled onto breast cancer culture and wrote a book about it. Pink Ribbons Inc., was published in 2006 and inspired a documentary of the same name.
"I thought it was a fad that would diminish. But it continues to grow," she says. "You have to have a campaign. If you don't, you're not a legitimate, caring corporation."
Pink ribbon consumerism has been painted as a social good, a legitimate way to participate in civil society. And, clearly, it does work for some women with breast cancer, says King.
"There are women who have breast cancer who find this supportive," she says.
And foundations that work with corporate partners have been very successful. In the U.S., Susan G. Komen for the Cure has invested an estimated $2 billion in research and programs since the non-profit was founded in 1982.
Still, King has noted a growing discomfort with the pink industry. For the first decade of the movement, it was concentrated in "pockets of resistance" such as the San Franciscobased Breast Cancer Action. Then the Internet allowed online discussions by bloggers and watchdogs like "Uneasy Pink" and "Komen-Watch" to share their ideas. Last October, the issue got widespread attention when New York Times wellness blogger Dr. Barron H. Lerner wrote about "pink fatigue." Dozens wrote comments agreeing.
But the true tipping point was KFC's pink bucket campaign last year, a partnership between the purveyor of fried chicken and Susan G. Komen for the Cure. "It was so egregious," says Texasbased Gayle Sulik, a medical sociologist and author of Pink Ribbon Blues.
Sulik started looking at breast cancer survivorship in 2001. Her interest was piqued by pink culture and how it had become co-opted by corporate interests, how advocacy had become enmeshed in the culture of consumption. Komen, which started as a grassroots organization, now has more trademarks than most corporations, she says. "The colour pink and the ribbon have taken the place of meaningful awareness," she says. "Who buys this stuff? People who really don't think about it."
Discussions can get very charged. Some women with breast cancer feel alienated by the tide of pink, but others are quick to chide them for feeling that way. While King was doing her research, she found a lot of women with breast cancer who said they were inundated with requests from corporations to endorse products and got slammed by those who argued that "angry is unhelpful."
"It points to the tyranny of cheerfulness in breast cancer culture," says King. "If you are not cheerful, then there's something wrong with you."
The backlash is still a very loose movement. "Whether it will coalesce, I don't know. I see growing momentum," says Sulik, who knows a woman with breast cancer who bought a pink KitchenAid stand mixer. Now that her cancer has returned, she hates the sight of it.
King says foundations such as Komen and the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation have become more critical about scrutinizing their corporate relationships, and they understand some people are getting uneasy about whether we can shop our way to a cure.
Other groups are cropping up that have vowed to have nothing to do with pink cause marketing.
King points to a new Torontobased group called the Canadian Breast Cancer Support Fund. The high cost of taking care of yourself points to one of the inequities of breast cancer. Poor and working-class women have higher mortality rates, says King. Donations to the support fund will be used to help women with breast cancer who face financial hardships.
"No walking, no running, no biking. No lotteries, no prizes. Nothing to buy," says the fund's website. "Just donate."
Founder Donna Sheehan was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2003. One of the first things she did was read Barbara Ehrenreich's Welcome to Cancerland, which chronicled her confusion and irritation in finding herself in a geography awash in pink kitsch.
Sheehan knew what Ehrenreich meant. "I found a place that resonated with me," she says. "I'm so tired of pink everything."
SAVE THE TA-TAS CAMPAIGN DISTASTEFUL: BLOGGER
OTTAWA - Ottawa writer Laurie Kingston, who has metastatic breast cancer, writes a blog called Not Just About Cancer.
She receives pitches every year from companies that want her to promote products touted to increase breast cancer awareness and to raise funds for the cause.
This year, the president of a U.S. company called Save the Ta-tas, which sells licensed apparel, invited Kingston to be a guest blogger. "I have some fun ways to make it a great partnership for both of us and for the fight against breast cancer," wrote Ta-tas president Julia Fitske.
Kingston questioned the fun. She found the Ta-tas T-shirts for men (one says "I Love Ta-tas" and another proclaims "I ate the whole rack") to be distasteful and insensitive. Besides, she prefers to donate to an organization where all of the donation goes to breast cancer advocacy, awareness and research - not five per cent, as Ta-tas does.
Fitske soon responded. "You guys seem to think me reaching out to you and asking you to share your voice is a bad thing.
Wow, that strikes me as very sad. Who else is trying to bridge the gap? And why wouldn't we want to?" Fitske wrote, arguing that Save the Ta-tas had already donated almost $750,000 to breast cancer projects.
Read more: Widespread ribbon campaign creates backlash
So what I got out of that was that some people are so absurdly self-righteous that they can't support gathering support for a good cause if it's not being done "their way." If you want to make a donation to a cause, make it to the cause you want to make it to in the way you want to make it. A lot of money has been raised by these pink ribbon campaign, and a lot of good has come as a result of that money.
Sheesh!
She doesn't want to sound petty, but yet, that is exactly what she sounds like...
Good old higgy, always talking sense, especially when she agrees with me.