From: fi@grebyn.com (Fiona Webster)
Subject: Re: A Room of One's Own with a View to Kill
Organization: Grebyn Timesharing
Date: Sat, 26 Sep 1992 12:41:34 GMT

Mike Morris riffs on several interesting things, and says:
>I'd also raise with you again the question of present-day gender
>differences. How many of them are legitimately felt to be injustices?
>Martha came up with one the other night: rock bands. Certainly there
>are female and male leads, but though we've all seen female band
>members---drummers, keyboardists, bass guitarists---, they sure seem
>pretty rare. Why is that? What injustice prevents women from being
>rock musicians?

Patti Smith is not at all a rare sound, in my apartment.  Nor are
Lone Justice, Fetchin' Bones, and X, all of whom have females fronting
them.  But I'm not here to argue over the percentage of women in
rock 'n' roll--Goddess knows it's not high enough.  The portions of
this thread dealing with Virginia Woolf's suicide have gotten me
thinking about some lyrics on the recent Indigo Girls (two women,
no men) album--which I've transcribed below.  ('Sorry they're all
in a big clump, and thus less readable, but that's the way they're
printed on the album.)

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Virginia Woolf
	--by Emily Saliers 
	  (Indigo Girls' _Rites_of_Passage_ LP)

some will strut and some will fret see this an
hour on the stage others will not but they'll sweat
in their hopelessness in their rage we're all
the same the men of anger and the women of the
page they published your diary and that's how i
got to know you key to the room of your own and
a mind without end here's a young girl on a kind of
telephone line through time the voice at the
other end comes like a long-lost friend so i know
i'm alright my life will come my life will go still i
feel it's alright i just got a letter to my soul when
my whole life is on the tip of my tongue empty
pages for the no longer young the apathy of time
laughs in my face you say each life has its place the
hatches were battened thunderclouds rolled and
the critics stormed battles surrounded the white
flag of your youth but if you need to know that
you weathered the storm of cruel mortality a
hundred years later i'm sitting here living proof so
you know it's alright your life will come your life
will go still you'll feel it's alright someone will get a 
letter to your soul when your whole life was on the
tip of your tongue empty pages for the no longer
young the apathy of time laughed in your face did
you hear me say each life has its place the place
where you hold me is dark in a pocket of truth the
moon has swallowed the sun and the light of the 
earth and so it was for you when the river eclipsed
your life but sent your soul like a message in a
bottle to me and it was my rebirth so we know it's
alright life will come and life will go still we know
it's alright someone will get a message to your soul
then you know it's alright and you feel it's alright
(when my whole life is on the tip of my tongue
empty pages for the no longer young ) then you
know it's alright and you feel it's alright (each life
has its place you say each life has its place) it's
alright

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'Reminds me of Julian of Norwich.  Julian would have made a good
rock star, don't you think?

						--Fiona
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