Let's call the whole thing off. In all the post-Katrina "excitment," few have broached the question of whether New Orleans should be rebuilt. While I don't agree with thisSlate article entirely (the percentage of the population who are black or poor should not be a factor in deciding to rebuild, hotshot), the author makes a compelling argument. Those of you who saw the "Now with Dave Brancaccio" piece on PBS know that New Orleans is another example of American manifest destiny and the belief that we can control nature through technology. The fact is that, through levees, pumps and dams, we have ruined the ecology of the Gulf Coast, perhaps even paving the way for Katrina's destruction. Perhaps it would be best to keep the French Quarter and other tourist favorites as tribute to one of America's most vibrant cities and let nature reclaim what we tried to steal.

Words won't do it. Like many of you I'm sure, I've been watching the news all week in complete shock. I really have nothing to contribute to the discussion because, FOR ONCE, people in places of much higher power are saying exactly what I'm thinking. So I will sum up what I've been feeling while watching David Brooks on Jim Lehrer wag his impotent Republican finger at the lack of post-9/11-style leadership( don't make me point out the myriad reasons why his argumant is flawed); Bush mourn the loss of Trent Lott's house; and countless starving babies, rape victims, dead bodies, and justifiably furious survivors scream at TV cameras for help and restitution. In the words of Kanye West,

George Bush doesn’t care about black people.

As President, Bush is emblematic of a National Policy so inherently racist that thousands of people will die simply because they could not afford to evacuate with their wealthier, predominantly white neighbors. I hope that Senator Mary Landrieu does punch him. I hope that he personally has to dig a grave for every dead body resulting from his administration's ineptitude. I hope he and his cohorts suffer eternally (to use their own fascist Christian vocabulary against them) for slashing the levee maintenace budget, for hiring a political hack to run FEMA, for articulating a terrorism-centric national defense plan, for ignoring sound social policy in favor of personal gain...for every ounce of anger and pain I and every person who turned on their television or opened their newspaper felt when they had to confront an America void of humanity, order, compassion, and decency. To paraphrase Jesse Jackson, Bush turned New Orleans into "the hull of a slave ship."

His truth is marching on. I realize that I am stealing a lot of stuff from the slog, but it is mandatory reading.

I think it is important to "support our troops" and to recognize that they are not unfeeling, unopinionated automatons who blindly follow the will of the Commander-in-Chief. Case in point, here's a blog entry from a soldier shortly after his return to Iraq from leave:

What the fuck has my chain of command been doing? We were winning somewhat when I left. And now we're being pinned down in our own fucking homes? Insurgents are pushing locals out of their homes and taking over my area at will? What kind of fucktarded plan have we been half-assedly executing? Obviously the kind that neglects sound contact with locals. Obviously the kind that gives further distance to unbridged gaps between soldiers and locals. Obviously the kind that has shown enough weakness when confronted by the insugency that it has been encouraged to grow.

Back home (the USA kind) I have no home, no job, and my commander in chief is on vacation (he's about 20 days behind Ronald Reagan right now in the race to become the most vacationing president ever. Hey W! we all got our fingers crossed! Here's to you and two more years of presidency...er vacationing!). Luckily pretty much everything that is important to me can fit into the back of a truck. Luckily I just paid off one of those.

His blog, One Foot in the Grave, no longer seems to be accessible. But the worst part about this is that he died two days after writing that August 13 entry. I'm sure that some Pat Robertson extremist cleric-type would claim this death as divine retribution for daring to contradict the will of the President, but, frankly, it's just sad.

It's the only way to live, in cars. Let me be succinct: Stop driving your gas-guzzling SUVs so that it doesn't cost me friggin' $35 for half a tank of gas! I'm going broke because Americans are selfish assholes who are obsessed with size and style over function and practicality.

And it's only going to get worse.

Boogie-woogie bugle boy of Company B. At first glance, it does look like the Blue is sucking it up, but I'm not sure my knee-jerk reaction stands up on closer inspection. Either way, it's an interesting comparison.

It's the end of the world as we know it. I realize that everyone is already aflutter over Pat Robertson's zeal for assasination, but I'm gonna jump on the band wagon just the same. Atrios and The Slog have some good discussions going about it. The award for Best Post-Robertson Embarassement Comment Made By Republican Congressmen goes to U.S. Senators Norm Coleman, Republican of Minnesota, and Mel Martinez, Republican of Florida, for calling Robertson's comments "incredibly stupid."

But back to Robertson himself, this guy is more fucked up than I thought. He not only blames gays and feminists for 9/11, blames gays for no-fault divorce laws, believes feminism is witchcraft, and recently said that liberal judges are a bigger threat to the United States than Osama bin Laden and Al Qaeda. BUT, and this is my favorite, HE BELIEVES THAT GAY PRIDE PARADES WILL CAUSE EARTHQUAKES, TORNADOS AND POSSIBLY A METEOR!!!! I'm not kidding.

When the moon is in the seventh house. Here is my inane observation o' the day. I like that onanism is a classy word for masterbation. Language is awesome!

Also, go see "The 40 Year-Old Virgin." Best movie ending Ev.Er.

Shake it all up. To add to the list of ridiculous things I see while walking around Manhattan, on one of the lower tracks at Grand Central there are two posters right next to each other. One is for "Revelations," that creepy NBC apocalpyse show about a nun and Bill Pullman (Oh NBC, why do you have to abandon yourself to the Religious Right's siren call?) The other was for Harvey Fierstein starring in "Fiddler on the Roof."

If you don't see why I think that's funny, you officially don't have a sense of humor.

Hush. Shamelessly stolen from the slog:

Tired of the same old shoot-'em-up, mow-'em-down, rape-'em-to-death video games?

ABC News reports on the forthcoming wave of Jesus-friendly games, brainstormed during a recent conference of the Christian Game Developers Foundation.

"I think the majority of gamers out there just want to play a great game," said the group's leader Ralph Bagley. "They don't really necessarily need intestines hanging on a doorknob."

Among the non-intestinal offerings cited by ABC: The Bible Game, in which players race across the Red Sea to fight Goliath with a slingshot, and Catechumen, in which players use swords to convert Roman soldiers to Christianity to cries of "Hallelujah!"

Relatively harmless stuff, but if Christian game makers really want to compete in the marketplace, they're gonna have to amp the action quick. How about "Clinic Kaboom," where gamers blow up as many Planned Parenthoods as they can?

Full story here.

God bless the child that's got his own. Okay, I know I'm this big feminist and I majored in WOST, equal rights, etc. but I gotta say, being pretty is awesome! Today's example: I went to a gourmet deli to get a sandwich and the owner gave me a free iced coffee. I have no idea why. I told him I didn't want an iced coffee because I was trying to cut down on my caffeine, but he gave me one anyway. This isn't the first time this has happened. I've had people give me extra cookies or undercharge me for things just for being good looking. In these instances, my sense of moral outrage is diluted by my intense frugality. I'm telling you, you can go anywhere in this world by being attractive and personable. Up with inequality! It saves me money!

Everything in its right place. Is it existential drama? Is it inane rubbish? Make of it what you will.

Grunge: Somewhere out there are people with beer, chips, and pickles, and here I am at a rest stop alone with my doom.

I twitch and I salivate. So here is something I legitimately want feedback on, especially from all you Y-chromers out there. I'm thinking that TV and movies have lied to us. The days of simply meeting people in person are over. No one goes up to a random, attractive stranger and starts up a conversation. I'm starting to think that, aside from blind dates, online dating is the only way to meet someone. Of course, the drawbacks are that you walk into said relationship with the expectation that, at some point in the very near future, the two of you will be naked together. The other problem is you look at the person's profile and you start dreaming up what they might be like. But actually the person you're dreaming about is your fantasy mate, and you're just hoping said internet person matches your fantasy. You end up entering the whole thing with a set of expectations that you might not normally have if you met said cyber partner in person first.

So what do you think, cyber space? Has dating gone technological, or should I keep my faith in reality? Post thy thoughts below...

It feels like some sort of inspiration. Random things I saw yesterday while on my way here and there:

On my way to the bank, I was driving behind this old Camry whose back bumper was covered in stickers from these crazy death metal bands like Cannibal Corpse and Exhumed. All the band names had blood dripping off them. The best was Goat Whore, which actually depicted a woman entangled with a goat. I was quite amused.

At the Wachovia ATM stand in the Times Square Subway station, someone had removed the "via" part of the sign. I never wanted a camera phone so bad in my whole life.

I've been looking at rooms and such to sublet on Craig's List, and I found a post where this guy who wasn't in town much wanted three "young female roommates" to live in his apartment (he would sleep on the couch for the few days each month when he was in town), "escort" him to functions when he was in town, and... I can't paraphrase it. It's too funny:

In addition, also looking to have the little time in New York as fun as possible as I have no time for social life at all. Hopefully, roommates would be open to possible additional fun things while I'm around, such as occassional massage, walking around in lingerie, and just some minor enticements. I am not looking for sexual favors, just enticements that would make living in my apt. fun for that one week a month. Be as creative as possible as I will simply listen to offers.

For $200/month, it's not such a bad deal. Heh.

It's no good waiting for the sun. "There's nothing terribly wrong with feeling lost, so long as that feeling precedes some plan on your part to actually do something about it. Too often a person grows complacent with their disillusionment, perpetually wearing their discomfort like a favorite shirt."

Am I complacent?

Gonna burn this goddamn house right down. Okay, okay, okay, wait a minute. I was looking for jobs at Bust (for those of you who don't know, Bust is an indie feminist magazine that should create a position just so I can work for them...but I digress), and I noticed that they have personals. I'm thinking, "Why in the crap does Bust have personals? Do men actually put themselves on Bust personals?" And shock of shocks, they do. How about that. So I start looking around for my feminist life partner when I notice that I AM TOO FAT FOR ALL OF THE MEN ON THIS DAMN SITE. Yes, these men want women 5'6"-5'11" weighing not more than 130 lbs. I haven't weighed 130 lbs. since middle school. I AM TOO FAT TO DATE MEN WHO PUT THEMSELVES ON A FEMINIST WEB SITE! What. In. The. Fuck.

When the band played Hail to the Chief. I am underutilized here at work, but I thankfully have Craig's List to keep me company.

Dear Red States...

We've decided we're leaving. We intend to form our own country, and we're taking the other Blue States with us.

In case you aren't aware, that includes Hawaii, Oregon,Washington, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan, Illinois and all the Northeast. We believe this split will be beneficial to the nation, and especially to the people of the new country of New California.

To sum up briefly: You get Texas, Oklahoma and all the slave states. We get stem cell research and the best beaches. We get Elliot Spitzer. You get Ken Lay.

Yeah, Spitzer! Pataki isn't running for a fourth term. His reign or retardation is over! I believe this calls for a fist pump. *Pumps fist in air*

We get the Statue of Liberty. You get Dollywood.
We get Intel and Microsoft. You get WorldCom.
We get Harvard. You get Ole' Miss.
We get 85 percent of America's venture capital and entrepreneurs. You get Alabama.
We get two-thirds of the tax revenue, you get to make the red states pay their fair share.

Since our aggregate divorce rate is 22 percent lower than the Christian Coalition's, we get a bunch of happy families. You get a bunch of single moms.

Please be aware that Nuevo California will be pro-choice and anti-war, and we're going to want all our citizens back from Iraq at once. If you need people to fight, ask your evangelicals. They have kids they're apparently willing to send to their deaths for no purpose, and they don't care if you don't show pictures of their children's caskets coming home. We do wish you success in Iraq, and hope that the WMDs turn up, but we're not willing to spend our resources in Bush's Quagmire.

With the Blue States in hand, we will have firm control of 80 percent of the country's fresh water, more than 90 percent of the pineapple and lettuce, 92 percent of the nation's fresh fruit, 95 percent of America's quality wines (you can serve French wines at state dinners) 90 percent of all cheese, 90 percent of the high tech industry, most of the U.S. low-sulfur coal, all living redwoods, sequoias and condors, all the Ivy and Seven Sister schools, plus Harvard, Yale, Stanford, Cal Tech and MIT.

I'd just like to interject that Harvard and Yale are Ivy League schools. Us Blue Staters are cocky but not necessarily bright. But hey, Women's Colleges aren't usually considered a boon. Seven Sister Pride!

With the Red States, on the other hand, you will have to cope with 88 percent of all obese Americans (and their projected health care costs), 92 percent of all U.S. mosquitoes, nearly 100 percent of the tornadoes, 90 percent of the hurricanes, 99 percent of all Southern Baptists, virtually 100 percent of all televangelists, Rush Limbaugh, Bob Jones University, Clemson and the University of Georgia.

We get Hollywood and Yosemite, thank you.

Yeah, but they get Yellowstone and the Grand Canyon. Bastards.

Additionally, 38 percent of those in the Red states believe Jonah was actually swallowed by a whale, 62 percent believe life is sacred unless we're discussing the death penalty or gun laws, 44 percent say that evolution is only a theory, 53 percent that Saddam was involved in 9/11 and 61 percent of you crazy b*****ds believe you are people with higher morals then we lefties.

By the way, we're taking the good pot, too. You can have that dirt weed they grow in Mexico.

Peace out,
Blue States

I watch the pole dance of the stars. I wonder if prehistoric man had more "liberal" notions about human sexuality than we do. I mean, if your main worries in life are fending off starvation, hiding from predators, and trying not to freeze to death, sexual morality is probably not a big concern. I also wonder if these scientists are on to something or if they just have a dirty mind.

Also, a 30,000 year-old bird carved out of mammoth ivory? Holy shit!

Try to set the night on fire. An Algerian man, Ressam, was sentenced to 22 years in prison for plotting to bomb the Los Angeles International Airport during the 2000 millennium celebration. Seattle Federal District Court Judge John C. Coughenour gave Bush and the entire Conservative/Republican/Nazi party platform the finger here, don't you think?

I would like to convey the message that our system works. We did not need to use a secret military tribunal, or detain the defendant indefinitely as an enemy combatant, or deny him the right to counsel, or invoke any proceedings beyond those guaranteed by or contrary to the United States Constitution. I would suggest that the message to the world from today's sentencing is that our courts have not abandoned our commitment to the ideals that set our nation apart. We can deal with the threats to our national security without denying the accused fundamental constitutional protections. Despite the fact that Mr. Ressam is not an American citizen and despite the fact that he entered this country intent upon killing American citizens, he received an effective, vigorous defense, and the opportunity to have his guilt or innocence determined by a jury of 12 ordinary citizens. Most importantly, all of this occurred in the sunlight of a public trial. There were no secret proceedings, no indefinite detention, no denial of counsel. The tragedy of September 11th shook our sense of security and made us realize that we, too, are vulnerable to acts of terrorism. Unfortunately, some believe that this threat renders our Constitution obsolete. This is a Constitution for which men and women have died and continue to die and which has made us a model among nations. If that view is allowed to prevail, the terrorists will have won. It is my sworn duty, and as long as there is breath in my body I'll perform it, to support and defend the Constitution of the United States. We will be in recess.

Victims of the same disease. Switch the sexes on this baby, and it could describe my luck with the mens. What did Figgie say? I attract losers like moths to the flame?

I have the most supportive friends.

Nothing but blue skies do I see. The Smurfs are Belgian. How about that.

Everyone's favorite little blue cartoon characters, the Smurfs, are coming to the big-screen. Variety reports that Nickelodeon Movies and Paramount Pictures will produce a 3-D CGI feature based on the classic Belgian comic-strip that spawned a popular NBC animated TV series in 1981. Producers hope to bring back Papa Smurf, Smurfette, Brainy, Jokey and Grouchy in time for the characters' 50th Anniversary in 2008. The film is also being conceived as the first in a trilogy of "Smurf" movies. Let's hope there isn't some "Dark Smurf" storyline worked in there.

I don't know about you, but the idea 3D CGI Smurfs give me the willies.

It varies from season to season. I'm at work, and I'm bored. I saw this on Gabbro's LJ and I thought it was funny, so I decided to do one myself. The idea is that you type the answer to the question into a Google image search and post the first photo that comes up. Enjoy!

Where were you born?

This is a picture of the South Bronx. According to Google, I was born in the projects. That should up my street cred, huh?

Where did you grow up?

The answer was "With my mother." HAHAHAHA!

Where do you live now?

Why did this come up for "with my father?"

What is your name?

What?!

What is your favorite food?


What is your favorite drink?


What is your favorite band?

or

or


What is your favorite scent?


What are your favorite shoes?
Seasonally...
v.

Where did you go to high school?


Where do you go to school now?


What is the prettiest place you've ever seen?

I'm praying for rain; I'm praying for tidal waves. Tricunda has the strangest writing style ever, but once you can decipher what she's saying, she doles out some pretty good food for thought.

Remember that no matter how good we are, nobody owes us solid-gold relationships or even a decent person to throw a hump at. There are zero guarantees or promises. Whether that's nature making us feel dumb, karma for taking a nice person for granted, whatever, the only fuck-over faith we can hold onto is that it ultimately will build us into the positive people we hope to attract through learning what bitch feels like.

With relation to Matty G.'s harsh tokery and getting his heart smoked by some broad over e-mail, his hell-feelers were heightened. As always when this happens, life lets out an aftershock ha-ha and calls the pit crew of stupid/annoying as shit people to whatever hole you’re trying to recover in. Like Mickey Mouse's sorcerer's apprentice brooms set to quimby* your fuckin soul.

I think it's totally admirable, Admiral, that you steered the Farter Charter to Pattern Island and took a telescope to who you’ve been doing the last nine years. Before you cut your ear off, paint this down on a canvas, hand it to the loudest person you know, and aim his or her mouth to the side of your head: THIS HAPPENS TO ALL OF US.

(*As a footnote, I was just told that someone who cups and smells his own farts is called a "quimby." Discuss.)

Also, I commend L(Y) for her supreme snazzieness:

Me: Love is never conventient
Her: ...yet

Crown thy good with Sisterhood. For all these reasons, I can be proud to be an American, courtesy of Humpy:

Blessing #1: We're not French!
Blessing #2: American girls dig hot tubs!
Blessing #3: Beer is cheap and plentiful!
Blessing #4: We have a "free press" that mercilessly harasses celebrities like Tom Cruise and Britney Spears on a daily basis!
Blessing #5: Porn is cheap and plentiful!
Blessing #6: Jessica Alba!
Blessing #7: Though the justice system doesn't really work, it does work if you're Michael Jackson!
Blessing #8: Very dangerous fireworks!
Blessing #9: Freedom of religion and the freedom to laugh at other stupid religions, like Scientology!

Time why you punish me. In addition to being kicked out of the Swells nest, I will soon be losing my FirstClass access. Fours years of emails will be poof in a matter of days. Alas. During the last meal I had with L(V) she mentioned a slew of long emails we sent back and forth while I was studying abroad last year. And, as she said, they are ridiculous. Here is a little blast from the dating past. Please laugh at it; we were full of crap:

L(V): About the guy thing, sometimes I really do think that lots of sex, eye candy, and the occasional snuggle is about all guys are good for, but I also recognize that I am very very disgruntled/apathetic/too interested in other things to be very hooked on the romance, so I totally take my own views with a grain of salt.

Me: In response to this, I have a new insight on our brethren, the American man. They. Are. Retarded. After spending a few months in France and now dating a...guy from Luxembourg, yeah American men totally suck. They are painfully insecure and fragile, prone to running at the slightest hint of intimacy or, heaven forbid, commitment (the dreaded word! I need garlic! holy water! where's Buffy? Protect me PLLLEAAASSSEEE!!!) yet they insist that we only have eyes for them and when we don't want anything serious, just want to chill out and enjoy their company and not have it be a big deal, they get all offended and can't cope even though it's EXACTLY WHAT THEY'VE BEEN BITCHING ABOUT WANTING!!!!! AAAAHHHHHHHH I HATE IT!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!! Seriously dude, it's such total bullshit. And I have grown a serious allergic reaction to bullshit. So yeah, um, [I] will pass on the American man complex thanks.

Oh. My. God. We are so...Orchid first years who think we know everything about men! Gah run away! I don't know about you, but I certainly had a good chuckle at my own expense.

Thro' all her wealth of wood and waters, let your happy voices ring. I know what love is, and I can't stop feeling it.

"Go forth and live happily and well, as might true ladies, or real women, of the eternally full plate." -Patricia Williams

And, much less classy, from SaTC: "I'm not transitioning, I am happening."

To you, my dear Lazy Bums et. al. my life would not be worth living without you in it. Thank you.



WC '05!

I'm just a little girl-boy trying to make my way in a man's world. I realize that I tend to quote Dan Savage a lot in my posts, but I find that he always has something useful or important to say. So, here's another pearl of wisdom for all of you on how to get politically active and protect your reproductive and sexual rights:

To protect straight rights, NCAH, the first thing you need to do is vote—and make sure your friends and family vote too (unless they vote Republican, in which case you need to tear up their voter registration cards). But voting isn't enough.

"We live in a time when privacy is under attack, and sexual privacy is a prime target," Nadine Strossen, president of the American Civil Liberties Union, told me to tell you. "The list of offenses is long and growing: Politicians use billions of taxpayer dollars to withhold vital sexual-health information from teens, the FDA keeps emergency contraception under lock and key, and lawmakers sanction pharmacies' refusal to fill birth-control prescriptions. It is time to pull out all the stops and push back."

So how do you push back? Well, you could become a card-carrying member of the Americans Civil Liberties Union (aclu.org), along with People For The American Way (pfaw.org) and Americans United For Separation Of Church And State (au.org). To specifically protect your reproductive freedoms, you could join Planned Parenthood (plannedparenthood.org) and NARAL Pro-Choice America (naral.org).

But it's not enough to be a card-carrying member of these organizations, NCAH; you need to be an active member. When I called NARAL to ask 'em what you could do, Nancy Keenan, NARAL's president, suggested you get on the phone. "All Americans who value the constitutionally protected zone of privacy should call their senators and ask them to oppose Janice Rogers Brown and William Pryor—judicial nominees under consideration in the Senate who illustrate the threat to individual freedom and personal privacy," said Keenan. "Federal judges are on the bench for life, and President Bush is determined to flood the courts with far-right judicial activists who are hostile to privacy."

Making phone calls and writing letters? Dull stuff, yes, but infinitely more effective than marching in circles around Washington, D.C.

If you sincerely want to get involved in the fight for gay rights, Jennifer Gerarda Brown, co-author of Straightforward: How To Mobilize Heterosexual Support For Gay Rights, had a few suggestions: "There are dozens of specific things that straight allies can do to promote gay rights," said Brown. "You can tell your kids that it's fine for women to love women and for men to love men. You can ask your employer to promise not to discriminate on the basis of sexual orientation. You can work with your child's school to make sure that classes and course materials validate LGBT people. Engage people in your local churches, office, and government in this dialogue."

Now get busy.

When I'm about to go crazy 'cause I'm still living here I just get my friends together and we dance dance dance. The best Mad Libs ever, courtesy of my, Zap and Netsirk. This is what happens to our brains while we pack.

"Science Lab"
Once a week, we have a science laboratory class, and we get to do nutty experiments with hoops and Republicans. Our teacher, Ms. Frida, shows us how to dissect lollipops. First, we take out the internal cans and emery boards and draw pictures of them in our notebooks. We have to work saucily or else we'll make a mess. We also learn to use chemicals to make squeamish things like inexpensive household Attila the Hun and deodorizers that make a Caligula smell like a hairspray. Last week, we had a velcro-y accident in the lab. Nicole Kidman mixed some chloroform with enchilada and added some bile and the mixture exploded and blew two tiles through the roof. So now our teacher makes us wear safety pantaloons during science class.

I'm a lucky man with fire in my hands. As of two hours ago, I have officially accomplished everything I wanted to accomplish academically in college. It took me four years to do it, and I did. I have never been so proud of myself, and it has put everything in perspective. The future is always uncertain, and if I have to wait four or more years to get to the next step, then so be it. I am ready.

So now you come back. The seventh grader inside of me is way too fucking excited about this:

Star Wars Horoscope for Sagittarius

You are superbly wise and have been known to spread your wisdom widely. You are impatient and pushy when people take your teachings too lightly. And your philosophical side always peeks through. Star wars character you are most like: Yoda

What is Your Star Wars Horoscope?

Where would I be without my friends. It seems I make an impression:

the dazzling wellesley redhead - w4w - 21

you and i were getting tea at the same time in the kosher/veggie dining place. i lingered, hoping you'd want to talk. you did, but i was so caught up listening to your voice i didn't hear what you were saying.

you--tall, curvy, caffeinated
me--wearing that blue jacket and smiling back at you

email me so we can talk about you having my babies.

this is in or around the bubble

You give me something. Here's some food for thought, courtesy of the imitable Dan Savage:

Researchers have been hard at work on two vaccines for HPV, vaccines that could save thousands of women's lives. In clinical trials, the vaccines have prevented 90 percent of new HPV infections. Good news, huh? Not for the religious right. Bridget Maher of the Family Research Council told New Scientist magazine that "giving the HPV vaccine to young women could be potentially harmful, because they may see it as a license to engage in premarital sex."

While the religious right's war on gay people gets all the headlines, their war on straight rights gains ground daily. They've destroyed sex education in this country, undermined abortion rights, and successfully prevented emergency contraception from being made available over the counter. Now they're going to block the HPV vaccine. Why? Because the American Taliban would rather see sexually active women dead than vaccinated.

Hello, straight people? If you don't want to live in a world where you need a license from the likes of Bridget Maher to have sex, premarital or otherwise, you had better start speaking up. Most of you seem content to merely rubberneck while gay people have the shit kicked out of us, and while that's maddening, I suppose it's understandable. It's not your fight. But what explains your passivity when your own rights are being attacked?

What the crap is up with the Religious right? What the fuck is wrong with people who'd rather have women die than be protected? This is religion? This is magnanimity? Fuck no. This is cruel, plain and simple.

How many times must you be told. While I was running earlier, I was listening to the first CD I ever bought: the Foxfire soundtrack. I doubt you remember the film, but it was a 1990s grrrrl power film based on a Joyce Carol Oats book which featured a pre-Gia Angelina Jolie and that chick from that horrible NBC sitcom, "Boston Common." One of the songs on the soundtrack is by L7 about Shirley Muldowny, the first woman drag racer. Awesome. Best line in the song:

-"What's a beautiful girl like you doing racing in a place like this?"
-"Winning."

Snap! That was so awesome. Plus there's a great Luscious Jackson song on it which is particularly appropriate, all things considered.

Alternately, if that soundtrack was what I was listening to while I was just barely adolescent...holy crap! It's so depressing. Some of the songs are about how everyone is unhappy, life sucks, men suck, and people do drugs to fill the hole in their lives. Dear Lord, it continues to be mystery to me how I ever made it out of high school without a serious eating disorder. Also, how did I survive adolescence without Sleater-Kinney?

I remember you were incredible. I have really strange conversations with people when I'm tired. Or during finals. Or just in general.

Erin: I was in StoneD the other day, and they had a French fry bar, and they had those smiley face potatoes we usually have at Midnight Breakfast. I was horrified!
E: What?! That's sacraligious. That's like eating the Host on a Wednesday!

BonBon: Well I think you are very loveable
E: I think I will like put that on my business cards. "Very lovable" -BonBon. Like the reviews on the back of books.

Dani B: I'm going to wing it
E: You go girl. You're smarter than most people's left pinkie. I doubt you'll have a problem
DB: aww thanks
E: It's kind of a strange compliment. I'm not even sure I know what I meant
DB: haha, well, I send it right back at ya. We're a couple of smart, sexy bitches!
E: Can I get a hell yeah!

Veggie: You are so hot
E: I know!
Veggie: You know it; I know it
E: Why doesn't THE WORLD know it?

Some things will never change. Loo is forever making my day:

L(V): I love you, E. You and your tiger fist thumping antics.

Rock.

Work, and work. One of my favorite first years sent this to me, and it was so cute I knew I had to share it.

Finals are like boys:
1. they're hard to understand
2. you might get the urge to cheat on them
3. some are harder than others
4. they put pressure on you to perform well
5. they were created to make our lives hell
6. you can work for hours and still get no satisfaction
7. some take longer to finish than others
8. you always have 3 or 4 at a time
9. some aren't as big as you had expected
10. they're much easier to do when you're drunk because you just don't care

Goodbye to everything that I knew. It's weird how many things are ending with our class. We will be the last class to experience Foodfest, the Hoop, Molly's Pub, Schneider, decentralized mail, bells, Dyke Ball and Tower Court...how strange. I know you're supposed to leave a place better than when you found it, but maybe it isn't up to us. Maybe it's just time to graduate.

Embrace-moi lentement. As I previously mentioned, I'm writing my art history paper about the Hôtel de Beauharnais, which was owned by the Empress Josephine's son, Eugene. I was doing a little bit of background research on Eugene last night just so I could get a fuller picture of him, and OH MY GOD I am in love with this man. I mean, I already thought he was gorgeous (our entire class swooned when his slide came up on the screen on the first day of class), but it seems he was also the most gentlemanly man in the history of men. Plus, had a "resounding, baratone" voice. Add to that the aforementioned hôtel in Faubourg Saint-Germaine, several palaces in Italy where he served as Viceroy, and membership in the Legion d'Honneur, and oh my goodness, did I mention the swooning?

Don't believe me? Fine.




And on to my...I mean, the hôtel, which is now the German embassy.

Notice the famous Egyptian portico.

Le Salon des quatres saisons

La Chambre de la reine Hortense (Don't get me started on the horribly misplaced chairs!)

Why did all the good men die before 1824? Why?! WHY?!?!?!?!

I'm so tired. Oh holy crap, I am so motherfucking tired. Last night was Paint it Green! night. For those of you who haven't been following the saga, every year the graduating class decorates the entire campus in their class color. What started as a prank has blossomed into a tradition, and I was in charge of it. That's right. Me and my co-chair spent $2,005 dollars and countless hours of prep time to dec the campus in green.

How was it?

I went to bed at 6:45 this morning. I walked around this campus so many times that my feet are swollen, and my fingers are still dyed vaguely green. I am at that point of tiredness when I am no longer in control of my emotions (always a fun condition) and I might just burst into tears. Why? Because it's over! I've been planning this thing all damn semester, and it's over. Classes are over, college is almost over, I have a 30 page art history paper due in four days, and I am exhausted. So, dear friends, I am going to bed. I'll poster pictures tomorrow if I can move my hands.

If anyone finds my egg, please let me know!

Can I graduate? Between me and my shiny new diploma:

-Arthurian Legends paper on the manipulation of the Pelleas and Ettard story through the 13th c. French Vulgate to Malory to Tennyson (Don't I sound all intelligent).
Due May 9
-Paint it Green! all fucking night May 10
-French paper on the role of the king in Racine's theater. Due May 11
-30 page (!!!) Art History paper on the renovation of the Hôtel de Beauharnais. Due May 16
-French final exam. May 19
-Arthurian Legends final exam. Whenever the heck I get around to it

Yes! I can totally fucking do this! Eye of the motherfucking tiger! *pumps fist in air*

Another head aches, another heart breaks. Most of the time the Lippy Imp annoys the crap out of me with his whining and rambling. But his words this time feel rather poignant:

"When my girlfriend’s cell phone rang at around 11:00 p.m., I answered it. Normally, with her asleep, I would have let it go to voice mail, but I knew who it was and why he was calling.

'Eight pounds, seven ounces,' announced the proud but weary voice on the other end. It was my girlfriend’s ex-husband, Tony. His girlfriend had just given birth to their first child, his second. I congratulated him, asked about the baby and her mother, congratulated him again, and let him get on with making the rest of his phone calls. Tony and I get along well enough, and he and my girlfriend have an amicable relationship, or at least as amicable as can be between two people who regularly refer to each other as 'Bitch' and 'Cockbag.'

I walked back into the bedroom where my girlfriend, now awake, lay staring at the wall. I gave her the baby’s stats as I scooted under the covers, but she said nothing. I knew that she was exhausted after a long day at work, so the mere fact that her eyes were still open told me something was wrong. After a couple of minutes of silence, I finally asked, 'What’s wrong?' She paused before saying flatly, 'It should have been us.'

This statement needed no explanation. She and I have often bemoaned the fact that we can’t have children of our own. Not that we need them. She has a daughter courtesy of Tony, and I have three children, the product of my own failed marriage. It’s not so much that we want more children; we just want something that is our own. The problem is twofold: One, five kids are too many, and two, my vasectomy makes conceiving a child impossible. Even if we could have children biologically, I have a staggering amount of debt I inherited through my divorce, no college degree, and no practical job skills. I have nothing to offer her accept the kindness of my heart which, last I checked, is one of the few things that doesn’t qualify one for a bank loan. On paper, I’m a bad risk. At times this supersedes any of the intangibles I bring to the table, like my sense of humor or golden retriever–like devotion and affection. In the darkest part inside her, she resents me for all of my various anchors, and she hates herself for feeling that way. As a result, we’re the couple with matching hair shirts.

A few minutes after the phone call, her body conceded to slumber, while I lay awake, miserable. I had only a few hours before I needed to go to the first of my two jobs, so I desperately needed to get to sleep fast. But my mind was spinning, churning out the kind of masochistic thoughts that would leave me wide-eyed until the alarm clock went off. There was only one thing to do.

In the face of insomnia, it has long been my habit to masturbate. One of the advantages of being male is the inherent ability to separate sexual activity from emotional liability, so jacking off doesn’t require being “in the mood.” All I have to do is cue up my mental porno tape, throw in a palm full of lube, and I’m on my way.

Not wanting to wake my girlfriend, I excused myself to the living room sofa where I proceeded to coerce my penis into an erection. The movie in my head began, and I fast-forwarded to a scene that suited me. Once there, I began to masturbate in earnest, with an air of practicality. After all, I was doing this because I was unable to sleep, not because I was aroused or frustrated. Even as I fantasized about my girlfriend in the role of the insatiable cheerleader/prison escapee, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was, to her, a disappointment, that I was holding her back from her dreams. Maybe with some other guy she could have financial stability, another child of their own making, and a lack of feeling shackled to a past that was beyond her control. I thought about leaving, putting my belongings into storage and consuming the generosity of friends who’d tolerate my sleeping and masturbating on their couches for a few days. I thought that maybe just being a good and decent person wasn’t enough to hang dreams on, that I needed a sparkling portfolio of opportunity and potential as well. Then again, wasn’t love enough? She and I were in this position because we honestly feel that we were made for each other, but met 10 years too late to take full advantage of it. We’re crazy about each other, so what sense did it make to throw away the kind of love documented in fairy tales and made-for-TV movies? Were we really on the verge of breaking up, or were we more likely grief stricken, mourning the loss of the 10 years we spent trying to realize our dreams with the wrong people?

These were my thoughts as I reached orgasm, semen pooling on my stomach. Almost immediately, my body began to relax, my eyelids growing heavier by the second. As I reached for a towel, I considered the puddle of come on my belly. Once potent and vital, it now lay lifeless and insignificant, the consequence of bad choices. No longer containing the power to create life, it was now nothing more than a mess. Maybe this was exactly what regret looked like."

We don't have crystal balls or time machines that will tell us the future. We don't have mirrors into the souls of our partner so that we know exactly what to do to make whatever hurricane is churning subside. When we love, we want it to last, and we can't imagine ever feeling any differently about that person.

I don't know how to love and protect myself at the same time. I don't know how to leave and not hurt afterwards. All I can do is continue to believe in myself, believe in my own beautiful humanity--my capacity to love, to feel, to care, to cherish. I never want to shut myself off from that part of myself which loves or hurts because it's real, raw...and, most importantly, it's mine.

Now you've chosen weakness.

"Qui vit sans folie n'est pas si sage qu'il croit." -La Rochefoucauld

I am not undone.

Get back motherfucker you don't know me like that. Only for Luda would you get me screaming "Ho... you'se a ho." Hell, only for Luda would you get a frigging women's college screaming that, and pointing at their friends while they did it.

Time why do you punish me? Wasting time is awesome:

Your Linguistic Profile:

55% General American English

30% Yankee

15% Dixie

0% Midwestern

0% Upper Midwestern

What Kind of American English Do You Speak?

Yes, this was shamelessly stolen from Gwax. I am a biter, and I don't care.

And everyone will want to be like me. Another gem from Craig's List. Oh to have the balls to write this. What a catharsis!

I was the worst girlfriend EVER...

An open letter to the guy who dumped me last January.

Dear Ex-Boyfriend,

I should grovel at your feet. I was delusional to think that I was ever good enough for you. I've thought a lot about it, and the light of your wisdom has begun to flicker through my dim brain. Allow me to list the ways in which I screwed things up:

1) It was very silly of me to think that you liked me just because you insisted on spending all of your spare time with me for 5 months. I mean, sleeping next to me 4 nights a week could mean anything.

2) I feel ridiculous for interpreting your words - "I love you" - as meaning that you loved me. Boy, is my face red! I now realize you meant, "I love putting my penis in your vagina after you pay for dinner and drive all of my friends home."

3) I definitely should not have encouraged you in your urge to put Mr. Winky everywhere he would fit (and, let's face it, a few places he almost didn't!). Every guy hates girls who like sex. Girls who like sex are bad.

4) I'm humiliated that I allowed myself to think we were "serious" after you drove me 14 hours each way to meet your mother. I'm sure you do that with all the girls.

5) I'm sorry that I didn't make a fuss on those occasions when you left skidmarks on my fresh, white bedlinens. I didn't want to embarrass you, so I pretended not to notice. I should have called attention to the fact that you can't be bothered to wipe your own ass. A nice girl would have told your friends.

6) When I got accepted to several ivy league law schools, I only proved your best friend's theory that I am "beautiful but stupid." I'm sorry that I insisted that you ask him to apologize. Girls with dignity are such a drag.

7) One of the reasons that you gave for dumping me is that my apartment is clean. It kills me to know that I would have won your heart if only I had cultivated a swarm of fruit flies in my kitchen to rival yours. I can see why you like them - their genome has been fully sequenced!

8) You probably don't know about this yet, but I got drunk with your sister last week and told her about the time you tried on my panties. Whoops!

So when we sat on your futon making out on January 20th, I can see why you paused to say, "It's been fun dating you, but..." I'm sorry that I screwed up so badly. Now I just have to live with the difficult knowledge that some other lucky girl will get to drive you around and bleach your shit stains out of her sheets.

XOXO

Fashion, turn to the left. So it seems that today is "Love Your Body" day here at Swells, and the spam and posters for it are making me really happy. They're all very witty and fun. One of them has these great before and after photos of Kiera Knightly touched up on the "King Arthur" photo so that her stomach is flatter and her breasts are bigger. Another has this list of things you could buy with the money you spent on, say, a year's supply of SlimFast (Plane tickets to Europe. Score!) Also, they're giving away fruit smoothies at 7 p.m. Fuck it, I'll love my body for a free smoothie. Bring it on!

Actually, I've been working on the self-love thing more lately (no jokes, please). I wake up in the morning, stretch, and check myself out in the mirror. I am one fine piece of lady. Meow!

Take it away, Kate Winslet:

"The re-touching is excessive. I do not look like that and, more importantly, I don't desire to look like that. It's a little distressing this is magazine policy -- all magazines. ... I'm very aware, because I did it myself, that young women look at publications like that and see a woman looking beautiful, looking sexy and in their mind looking perfect. Therefore these women strive to look like this idea of perfection. But it isn't real. People's legs are simply not that smooth. Everyone has a lump somewhere or they have knobbly knees. I can tell you that they've reduced the size of my legs by about a third....

What is sexy? All I know from the men I've ever spoken to is that they like girls to have an arse on them, so why is it that women think in order to be adored they have to be thin? I just don't understand that way of thinking. I'm certainly not a sex symbol who doesn't eat."

So strong. Food for thought?

"Welcome to the mystery that is men. I think it goes something like, they grow body hair, they lose all ability to tell you what they really want."
-BtVS, "Phases"

Dun dun. Everyone should watch "Law and Order" May 18. The district attorney is named after my dad. So cool.

The wisdom of a fool won't set you free. So I woke up after a two hour nap to see that the sun was still out at 7 p.m. I thought to myself, "Wow, it must really be spring." Then I remembered daylight savings, so it was only 6 p.m. two days ago.

The universe cheats.

I know what boys like. So maybe it's weird for me to post this, but I think it's really good advice. I know about a million guys who should have been told this when they were 15. Once again Dan Savage proves to be humanity's savior:

I am a 15-year-old boy and I've never had a girlfriend and I wanted to ask you personally, how do you get girls? Like the best way to get them, so they think I am interesting. I await your orders.

Teenager Going To Waste

There's nothing I enjoy more than ordering around the odd teenage boy, TGTW, which I've been doing in this space since you were packin' diapers. In fact, a couple of years back I gave orders to a 15-year-old boy who asked pretty much the same question: How do I get girls? A lot of people wrote in to tell me they thought my response was terrific--that kid should be about 18 now, and if he took my advice he should be up to his eyebrows in pussy--so I'm going to give you the same advice I gave him…

You're having a hard time getting girls. That sucks. I remember what it was like when I was 15 and wanted boys and couldn't get any. It sucked. But the sad fact is that most 15-year-old boys are repulsive--that is, most 15-year-old boys are awkward, half-formed works-in-progress. The fact that girls physically mature more quickly than boys means most girls your age already look like young women and they're attracted to older boys--and there you are, aching for your first girlfriend, but still looking like a short, hairless chimp.

But don't despair, TGTW. Your awkward/repulsive stage will pass. In the meantime here's what you need to do: Worry less about getting your 15-year-old self laid and start thinking about getting your 18- or 20-year-old self laid. Join a gym and get yourself a body that girls will find irresistible; read so that you'll have something to say to girls (the best way to make girls think you're interesting is to actually be interesting); and get out of the house and do shit--political shit, sporty shit, arty shit--so that you'll meet different kinds of girls in different kinds of settings and become comfortable talking with them.

Some more orders: Get a decent haircut and use deodorant and floss your teeth and take regular showers and wear clean clothes. Go online and read all about birth control and STDs, and learn enough about female anatomy that you'll be able to find a clitoris in the dark. Masturbate in moderation--no more than 10 times a day--and vary your masturbatory routine. I can't emphasize this last point enough. A vagina does not feel like a clenched fist, TGTW, nor does a mouth, an anus, tit fucking, dry humping, or e-stim. If you don't want to be sending me another pathetic letter in five years complaining about your inability to come unless you're beating your own meat, TGTW, you will vary your routine now so that you'll be able to respond to different kinds of sexual stimulation once you do start getting the girls. Good luck, kiddo.

Break away. First of all, ha!

Second of all, can you spot how many things are just...WRONG about this? And why the crap aren't there any "Saving It" boxer shorts? All the undies are for girls, which is a classic example of gender script ideology - women are the gatekeepers to sex who must control their male partners. My WOST senses are tingling.

Fashion Takes a Vow of Chastity
Monday, March 21, 2005
By C. Spencer Beggs

Underwear. It can say "I'm sexy." It can say "I'm confident." But can it say "I'm waiting for marriage?"

That's what Yvette Thomas is banking on. Her growing line of clothing, WaitWear, plasters slogans like "Virginity Lane: Exit When Married" and "Notice: No Trespassing On This Property. My Father Is Watching" on underwear and T-shirts, and is meant to inspire young people to abstain from sex until they tie the knot.

"[Abstinence] makes so much of a difference in an individual's life and the choices that they make, and especially at a young age," said Thomas, 39.

WaitWear is currently rolling into more and more retail stores, and Thomas is determined that the company will do a little more than $2 million in sales this year — up from a mere $4,000 in 2004.

But can panties and T-shirts really help a person wait for marriage? And isn't the whole point of wearing underwear with slogans on it to have it be seen?

Ashley Littlefield, 20, a junior at the University of Notre Dame in Indiana — where sex is prohibited by the student code of conduct — sees some hypocrisy in anti-sex skivvies.

"The underwear line is the most illogical part of the whole [WaitWear Web] site. Shouldn't it read: 'If You Can Read This, I'm Probably Not Waiting Until Marriage?'" she said.

But Thomas, who launched WaitWear in the fall of 2002, looks at the undies as more of a memo to self — and she does think they can be effective in delaying sexual activity.

"It's not used to be a barrier; WaitWear is something that is used as a reminder," Thomas said. "[Young people] need to have a bold message that says: 'Yes, this is what I've committed to and this is going to help me remember.'"

Thomas, a practicing evangelical Christian and never-married mother of three, vowed in 1999 to remain abstinent until marriage. However, sticking to her commitment has not always been easy, and much of the inspiration for WaitWear came from her personal struggle with keeping her vow.

"One day I woke up and realized: What type of example am I giving to my son? And I have to be an example," Thomas said. "I can't tell my son to abstain from sex if [I'm] not doing it [myself]."

Thomas is not alone in her effort to bring abstinence into the pop culture conversation. Reality TV queen and singing star Jessica Simpson was very public about her decision to remain a virgin until marriage, and more recently, youth-oriented television shows like "Gilmore Girls" and "Summerland" have featured characters who want to wait.

Moreover, chastity movements like True Love Waits, which urge to students sign pledge cards promising to abstain, have grown increasingly visible on American high school and college campuses over the last decade.

True Love Waits co-founder Jimmy Hester, 57, agrees with Thomas that wearing your heart on your sleeve — literally — can be a good way to support teens taking a vow of abstinence.

"One of the key parts of [successful abstinence education] is follow-up, support and encouragement," he said. "One of the ways that we've discovered in the past 11 years is to carry the message through a key part of the teens' culture: the music, the movies, the Internet and, of course, clothing."

But Lauren F. Winner, whose upcoming book "Real Sex: The Naked Truth About Chastity" takes a candid look at remaining abstinent in modern times, is of two minds about the line.

"On the one hand, I think recognizing that our clothes tell stories about us and thinking intentionally about what stories we want to tell is wise and generally right on," said Winner, a 28-year-old evangelical Christian. "On the other hand, I think the relationship between advertising, consumerism and exploitative sexuality is insidious. I wonder if the WaitWear line cedes too much to a culture that wants to turn our very clothes and bodies into billboards and ads."

Winner also thinks we have to be more straightforward with kids about how hard it is to refrain from sex.

"I think we have to engage today's teens where they are and stop cloaking our chastity talk in euphemism. Teens today are edgy and cagey and are wise to spin," she said. "We have to be willing to speak honestly about the real challenges they may be facing in their attempts to live chastely."

Indeed, Littlefield, barely out of her teens herself, finds the WaitWear slogans "insulting."

"Apparently, teenagers can't be sold on any idea unless it comes with clever catchphrases on reasonably priced T-shirts," she said. "Since when is it acceptable to advertise your sexual status on your shirt? This is as distasteful as a girl showing up to school in an 'Open for Business' shirt."

But despite her critics, Thomas is working on a new line of WaitWear that extends beyond T-shirts and underwear. She won't reveal the details, but one thing is certain:

"It will be a positive message you can surround yourself with," she said.

Give it to me. Coming to a tabloid near you: "Entire Lesbian W. Class of 2005 Lands in Hospital After Drunken Graduation Orgy Binge."

In other news, community dinner is stupid.

Let go of this pride. I spent all Sunday hung over after Dyke Ball. Not all moments can be shining moments.

However, I don't think that warrants the Boston Herald and a load of other local news affiliates using us as front page fodder. "Lusty Lesbian Bash" my ass. Why can't you stupid, ignorant people deal with the fact that women do NOT need men to have a good time. I think it is disgusting that a party celebrating homosexuality which just so happens to take place at a reputable women's college needs so much media attention. Eleven students going to the hospital with alcohol poisoning is a Wednesday night at Syracuse University, 'aight? So don't give me any shit about how we're so depraved because I will seriously stomp on your balls. You and your misogyny are not welcome in my universe.

T: I love how they make sure to specify that EVIL GAY PEOPLE were involved
E: and now the administration is thinknig of banning all parties that have high alcohol related problems, which is such CRAP
T: well, they're going to ban the harvard-yale tailgate, too. we will have to send our children to college in an alternate universe where fun is permitted
E: why in the fuck are they just bending over for the media? no one can take it when women act like men
T: women having fun = SAPPHIC LESBIAN ACTION!!!! XXX!!! FOOTAGE AT ELEVEN!!!!
E: And W. women act like men: We drink, we fuck, we are ambitious, we are aggressive, and we're not going to make you a fucking sandwich
T: Just like how people hate it when gay men act like straight men
E: I say castration for everyone! Unic pride! Seriously, you're all so fucking threatened by a little girl-on-girl action, you don't deserve to own a penis. I'm sorry, you are not a man.

Party almost out of time. Like many of you, I hated 2004. It was the shittiest year in the history of my years. I was so excited to kick it in the butt and give it the finger, but now it seems that Drew has made an interesting discovery:



Way to go, China. Jeeeez.

I'm gonna blow you away. YES! *pumps fist in air* Viva la revolution!

I don't know what to do about this dream and you. Grumble^6 * Grumble!

E: How am I supposed to write the intro to a paper when i don't even know what i'm introducing?
Dani: I know! Voila le bullshit
E: Like whoa

E: Grumble grumble why is my body so inscrutable grumble
Gwax: That's the unfortunate way things work
E: I blame men. I don't know why, but I'm sure it's your fault somehow
Gwax: Okay. Blame away but I'm required by conspiracy to deny everything
E: "One of us! One of us!"

The hollow jackpot of your rich kid games. These are just...whoa. I am speechless (Also the grammar and punctuation - not so hot):

Campus Progress’ Top Seven Favorite Quotes from Abstinence-Only Curricula

Many abstinence-only curricula are riddled with assorted tidbits of misinformation, scientific untruths, and outrageous gender stereotyping. Though the scientifically inaccurate sections give us greatest cause for serious concern – i.e. a portion of the WAIT training curriculum that claims HIV can be transmitted through sweat and tears – a number of medieval sounding quotations on relationships and sexuality also made our favorites list.

"Because they generally become aroused less easily, females are in a good position to help young men learn balance in relationships by keeping intimacy in perspective."
Sex Respect, Student Workbook

"[R]esearch confirms that 14 percent of the women who use condoms scrupulously for birth control become pregnant within a year."
Choosing the Best, The Big Talk Book
(In fact, when used correctly, condoms are 98% effective in preventing pregnancy and up to 99% effective in preventing STDs including HIV.)

"Watch what you wear, if you don’t aim to please, don’t aim to tease."
Sex Respect, Student Workbook

"The first player spins the cylinder, points the gun to his/her head, and pulls the trigger. He/she has only one in six chances of being killed. But if one continues to perform this act, the camber with the bullet will ultimately fall into position under the hammer, and the game ends as one of the players dies. Relying on condoms is like playing Russian roulette."
Me, My World, My Future

"The liberation movement has produced some aggressive girls today, and one of the tough challenges for guys how say no will be the questioning of their manliness."
Sex Respect, Student Workbook

"There is no way to have premarital sex without hurting someone."
Sex Respect, Student Workbook

"Just as a woman needs to feel a man’s devotion to her, a man has a primary need to feel a woman’s admiration. To admire a man is to regard him with wonder, delight, and approval. A man feels admired when his unique characteristics and talents happily amaze her."
WAIT Training (This sounds like something my mom would say)

We ain't too pretty, we ain't too proud. So after a rambling, repetative, somewhat incoherent lecture given by the one and only Betty Friedan (Feminine Mystique what), this is what I have gleaned as to what is in store for feminism:

1) Just as women have been freed from their submissiveness, men need to be freed from machoness. This is why women live on average seven years longer than men. Macho is bad for your health.
2) Women earn 50% of the pay on average per household, but men only do 25% of the child rearing. Step up, guys.
3) Men control society but that women are concerned with the details of society. For society to continue to function cohesively, the feminine perspective has to be placed in greater esteem. This is why so many corporations make their CEOs do sensitivity training.
4) Eventually men and women will not be defined by their difference. Men and women will become more alike and take on the characteristics of the other sex, thus being able to live out their full potential as human beings and not simply as gendered archetypes (This one I actually believe. Hottttt).
5) The ERA will finally be ratified when there is a woman president (ha! good fucking luck!)
6) Revolution is fun!

I'm into you. Get into me. Current status: Drunk! Wooo! Current mood: Angry/ freaking out/ fucking horny. But this is funny:

E: ...I think I'm kinda drunk
L(Y): Eh? How so?
E: Cuz I am drinking, and I think I started ovulating today, which would explain my sudden fluctuation in appetite.
L(Y): Heh. Just came off that estrogen high a couple days ago
E: Why must I eat so much when I ovulate? Why God, why? Why must I become fat so as to disgust potential mates? Seems antithetical. That's it! It's a sign! God does not want me to breed!

Also, this is retarculous, but cute:

E: Is your internet still broken?
Gwax: Yup. Hopefully it'l be better soon
E: Boo. I want da photos. Cuz you are cute. And I am cute. So cute+cute=2cute
Gwax: Oh man, I like you and I love you and I'm in love with you and I miss you
E: Cuz I turned us into an algebra equation?
Gwax: No, just in general
E: Oh. I thought it was nerd love.

Like puzzle pieces from the clay. Can I get out of my Arthurian Legends midterm for being too sexy to take a test? Please? Can someone write me a note?

Gabbro: So yeah, I have to look at Geoffrey and the handouts. That sounds like a band name
E: Geoffrey and the handouts! My favorite 1950s rock n' roll band
G: AHHHHH!
E: I WAS THINKING THE SAME THING!!!
G: dude!
E: I know
G: Geoffrey and the handouts, live in concert
E: woooooo! I've got my lighter
G: I've got my overpriced crappy band apparel
E: awesome! We are total fangirls
G: *squeals*
E: *tries to storm stage*
G: *hurls her underwear at the drummer*
E: I love you, Nennius!

I'm just a box in a cage. Hélas!

As you can tell, I have been reading too many 17th century French tragedies. Corneille has infiltrated my brain with his theories on la gloire masculine et l'immortalité. But I do get to go to a sex toy workshop with Bartonio in an hour. Huzzah! Happy V-Day to me!

In other news, I have decided that if you don't know what NOW is, you should be shot for crimes against sisterhood.

In other other news, I have decided I should be shot because every time I go to a meeting, I volunteer for something. Hence I am now co-chairing the decorating committee for the last day of classes. Why must I always be busy? Curses!

Who's the one to blame? Word. Fucking word, T!

I believe most Americans voted for John Kerry. I believe the exit polls that indicated a massive Kerry landslide. I believe Americans saw through the Republican propaganda machine and rejected it. I believe the heart and core of America is guided by a deeper and better wisdom than what the cynics tell us. All interpretations of this so-called Bush victory brand us as cowards, bigots, or idiots. I don't believe their analysis. I don't believe their results. I don't believe that gender panic and "moral values" caused Americans to vote for more war, more torture, more corporate power. I don't believe Americans turned their backs on the world. I don't believe Americans care only about American casualties. I don't believe we have closed our hearts to the suffering of others. I believe Americans have a capacity for compassion and generosity, for heroism and self-sacrifice that puts to shame all the warmongering and fearmongering of the current regime. I believe the great legacy of 9/11 was the immediate sense of community and connectedness and willingness to understand the rage against America. I believe that glimpse of universal brotherhood, not the march to war, was the true face of humanity. This is my article of faith. This is my faith-based opinion. This is my gut instinct.

Mine, too.

Moving up slowly. *Shrug* Makes sense.

You scored as Lust. Lust 56% Pride 38% Sloth 31% Envy 13% Gluttony 13% Wrath 6% Greed 6% Seven deadly sins created with QuizFarm.com

Does everyone here do the same? Thank the lord Natalie Dee noticed this. I thought I was taking crazy pills.

I'm the center of attention in the walls inside my head. I currently have a dog in my lap. Is there anything better in this world?

In honor of the restful break I've enjoyed, I'm in the mood for lists...

Things I love, in no particular order (I am omitting the obvious like friends, family, world peace, etc.)

• Act two of "Pirates of Penzance"


• My dog, except when he growls at me


• Self-proclaimed male feminists


• Winter sports (e.g. skiing)


• PBS


• MoMA's fifth floor


• Slave to the Grind


• Dan Savage


• Diesel Sweeties


• Books!


• New CDs


• Singing in my car...but only when I'm alone


• VH1, especially VH1 Europe


• My hometown public library's DVD collection

Things I Hate, in no particular order (omitting the obvious like war, fascism, sexism, Republicans, etc)

• Maroon 5


• Anything involving Bush (this includes Texas)


• Men who lack self-confidence and take it out on me. At the same time, players.


• "The Speech." Seriously, the next time I hear it, I'm just gonna peace on you.


• Dust bunnies


• Breast implants


• All ads for medication (Yesterday I saw one for breast implants, and I felt violated)


• That painful first day


• Waxing profound. Just be stupid. There's no shame!


• Love handles, especially on me


• Single-blade razors. What's the point?


• Grammar mistakes, especially those involving punctuation and "entitled" versus "titled."

Gonna speed it down and slow it up. Shamelessly stolen away message:

A teacher asked her class, "What do you want out of life?"

A little girl in the back row raised her hand and said, "All I want out of life is four little animals."

The teacher asked, "Really and what four little animals would that be, sugar?"

The little girl said, "A mink on my back, a jaguar in the garage, a tiger in the bed and a jackass to pay for all of it."

The teacher fainted...

Fabulous! I think that if this whole self-sufficient career thing doesn't work out, I am going to aim for marrying rich. I think it's a perfectly valid Plan B, even if I am a WOSTie.

I hope you dance. My two favorite people just combined to make three! A new little boy in our wacky, extended family...I could just cry for joy.

Too much tripping and my soul's worn thin. From Eleven Minutes by Paulo Coelho:

"Why is it that men only think about sex, instead of doing what you did with me and finding out how I feel?"

"Who said we only think about sex? On the contrary, we spend years of our life trying to convince ourselves that sex is actually important to us. We learn about love from prostitutes and virgins; we tell our stories to whoever will listen; when we are older, we parade about with much younger lovers, just to prove to others that we really are what women expect us to be.

"But do you know something? That's simply not true. We understand nothing. We think that sex and ejaculation are the same thing and, as you just said, they're not. We don't learn because we haven't the courage to say to the woman: show me your body. We don't learn because the woman doesn't have the courage to say: this is what I like. We are stuck with out primitive instincts, and that's that. Absurd though it may seem, do you know what is more important than sex for a man?"

I thought it might be money or power, but I said nothing.

"Sport. Because a man can understand another man's body. We can see that sport is a dialogue between two bodies that understand each other."

"You're mad."

"Maybe. But it makes sense. Have you stopped to think about the feelings of the men you've been to bed with?"

"Yes, I have. They were all insecure. They were all afraid."

"Worse than afraid, they were vulnerable. They didn't know what they were doing, they only knew what society, friends and women themselves had told them was important. Sex, sex, sex, that's the basis of life, scream the advertisements, other people, films, books. No one knows what they're talking about. Since instinct is stronger than all of us, all they know is that it has to be done. And that's that." (257-258)

I want you to take me out. Update on my life in the wake of finals and in the long lull of wintersession. Yes, it is just so... yeah...

JBL: Good. Crushes on you are in fact the correct way to go.

Another head aches, another heart breakes. Do guys really think like this? And what if you were that girl to someone, but he still can't take it? It seems to me that this guy forgot one thing: You have to be man enough to handle it when said dream girl comes along.

from a guy, on dating

Date: Tue Dec 07 15:02:11 2004

Why does he disappear?

Most likely, he's not a complete asshole. He saw something about you he liked, and wanted to date you. Like others have said, sex can only sustain a relationship so long - for me it's about 1 night, if that (generally I'm not interested in hooking up with girls who I don't see as potential girlfriends). There's got to be something going on mentally - emotionally.

You guys have to be able to have a good conversation - and what you think is a good conversation may not be the same for him.

You've got to be the girl that he goes and raves to his dad about. The girl that, when hanging out with you, he goes to the bathroom and text messages his friend "I'm in love" about. The girl he brags to his GIRLfriends about. The girl whose picture he looks at every day, secretly looking around his office to make sure nobody's standing behind him.

You've got to be the girl that he can't WAIT to take home to meet his parents. The girl that he fantasizes about doing things with - going away, going out to eat, going to the library. The girl that makes him see a hot girl, and think "man, I'm so glad I'm not going to feel bad about not being with HER" (because yes, every time we see a gorgeous woman we feel bad that we're not with them).

You've got to be the girl who he brings to his office party, introduces you to his coworkers, then pretends he's annoyed when they tell him the next day how nice and how beautiful you are, and how cute the two of you are together (though he's secretly loving every minute of it).

You've got to be the girl whose name he searches for on his computer and in his email account, hoping he'll find something that he wrote to his friend about you (or better yet, an old email from you). The girl whose old emails and notes he reads again and again. And again and again.

You've got to be the girl he dreams of spending money on. The girl who makes him feel like material things are irrelevant. The girl who he makes a mixtape for - and when you make one for him he cherishes it forever - and tries to find hidden meanings in the songs, their titles, their order.

You've got to be the girl that makes him hide in the bathroom at work, quietly sobbing, when he thinks things are going bad. The girl that makes him stay at work much later than he should, because instead of meeting his deadline, he's writing craigslist posts about you.

I'm sorry, when I started this, I truly intended it to be a guy's views on dating. Instead it turned into me rambling on about the girl that I don't have, but dream about.

But I'm sure that every girl is that girl to someone.

You're still a superhot female. Misogyny is the epitome of uncool, unattractive, and crappy. This is everything I hated about high school and then some. Assholes.

E: it's exactly what i hated about high school.
I: High School = suck
E: yes, but I was outspoken and strong and smart and self-confident; erego, I was an outcast and treated in exactly this mysogynistic manner
I: Booo
E: BUT I will win because I am awesome and they suck. Inherently so. So, uh, ha!
I: you already are winning
E: I am?
I: They are all jizzmops
E: Jizzmops! Wow. That's just...wow. That's like a step below jizz, below the jizz left on the nudie booth, below the guy who has to mop up the jizz. The mop itself!
I: exactly
E: you're tough
I: nah, I just learned the word 'jizzmop' somewhere
E: but still. I quack with fear
I: I honk with authority.
E: I'm still impressed

This shit is bananas. This is beautiful in design but bizarre in production. Marvel and recoil.

I can see it in her eyes. Teeheeee...

Woman: Having sex with him was the same as eating a slice of plain Wonder bread while looking in the window of a Crate and Barrel.

--York & 70th

Her dizzy head is conscience ladden. The internet is truly priceless, especially during finals:

TV Catch Phrases That Weren't.
BY RICHARD LONG

- - - -

Hawaii Five-O
"Book him, Danno!"
Original: "Beat him, Danno. Beat him good."

Hill Street Blues
"Be careful out there."
Original: "Watch out for black kids."

I Love Lucy
"Lucy, you have some explaining to do."
Original: "You moron! You'll have me deported."

Good Times
"Dy-no-mite!"
Original: "Dy-na-mite!"

Spiderman (animated)
"My Spidey senses are tingling."
Original: "I'm getting an erection."

Outside, inside out. Reason #509776 that L(V) is a goddess who, for some inecplicable reason, shares my karma. In this case, it's regarding the sorry state of our computers:

L(V): between the two of us were like a ricky martin music video
L(V): beer
L(V): and hot wax

And

E:------ and i ---- 5 times in less than 24 hours
L(V): That seems to go against the laws of physics
L(V): and chafing

Also, this is just funny:
T: Well, not everyone can be as gloriously straightforward as you
E: HAHAHAHA. Oh man. I think I've gotten worse
T: You attacking men on the street now?

And
T: Because of this story, I am now hesitant to be a rock star
E: Um, I don't think you were in danger in general
T: I was about to be discovered
E: Of being a jerk? I already knew that
T: ooooooooooooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I got served
E: Snap!

If you were wondering if I was procrastinating by talking to people online and then transcribing the conversations here, well, you'd be right.

Can you fill me in? This isn't funny, and yet it really really is:

What happened to all the romance? I wondered as I walked up the hill, through the campus of the Stevens Institute of Technology — which, it should be noted, Sinatra attended for one-and-a-half semesters — to have a few minutes with my favorite view of Manhattan. It is a beautiful spot, with plenty of nervous nerdy young scientists to keep you entertained, especially if you're thinking about sex. Is that one with the nice hands getting laid? He doesn't like me watching him, or maybe he does, but has yet to learn how to make eye contact. The high geek factor is a turn-on for a perv like myself. Is it their innocence? The fear in their eyes? Am I just a maniac? Having occasionally dabbled in geekdom, I have learned that they're inclined to masturbate more than your average college student, and sometimes even in the library. Is it wrong that I find that sexy?

Okay, I'm not saying that I agree with this. It's just...I don't spend much time thinking about MIT masterba-trons, but I definitely know about the fear in their eyes. If you ever need to feel hottt, just walk down the Endless Corridor in a low-cut shirt. I swear you'll feel like Marilyn Monroe in five seconds flat.

I'd pay a ransom note to stop it from steaming. In honor of finals:

E: I used the word cacodylic in my essay. 15 million points! I'm using it in reference to a Dadaist painting. "The cacodylic eye." It's in my poem
I: ooooh
E: See, 15 million points for the word, then 15 bajillion points for an obscure Dadaist reference. If I can pull off lacuna as well...ooooooh man. It'll be the paper to end all papers
I: And umpty-illion points for putting it in a poem at the end of a paper for WoST about going to a strip club
E: I WIN! They should give me a parade
I: If you were at Chuck E. Cheese's, the machine would spit out so many tickets you could buy, like, a cruise boat or something.
E: wow

And, because I am cheeky, "So let it be written. So let it be done."

Take your troubles away. Here's my random, nit-picky complaint of the day: I HATE when there's a really REALLY hot guy in the dining hall and he's with some woof girl. Seriously, where's the justice?

Yes, dear readers. Finals have arrived! La la la la!

I have the touch. Some girl on the squash team asked me if I was on a sports team because I look "athletic." No one's ever called me athletic in my life. I am awesome! Or fleece and mesh shorts fool everyone... either way.

When all I possess is a melody. I've been reminiscing, I guess you could call it, mostly because of my Friday WOST class in which we read some incredibly important essays by A. Rich and D. Haraway. It made me remember my intro class and how much this essay changed my life. I suddenly remembered why I wanted to study this in the first place--to find some sense in my crazy, topsy-turvy life and to understand the why and the how of me.

Things that are awesome (today):

1. Badly Drawn Boy live performing "How" and "Once Around the Block"


2. Finding Roses under your seat after lecture


3. Ladybugs landing on your coat after a bad day


4. The Alchemist


5. SVU


6. Fucking incredible friends

Things that suck (lately):

1. Daylight Savings Time


2. Uncertainty


3. Immaturity

Closer I am to fine. This is one of my favorite essays ever. I've read it a million times, and someone just posted it on an on-campus online forum, so I knew I must share it with the masses...all two of you.

Anyway, be enlightened. Laugh. Menstruate!

If Men Could Menstruate
by Gloria Steinam
from Ms. VII October 1978

A white minority of the world has spent centuries conning us into thinking that a white skin makes people superior - even though the only thing it really does is make them more vulnerable to ultraviolet rays and to wrinkles. Male human beings have built whole cultures around the idea that penis-envy is *natural* to women - though having such an unprotected organ might be said to make men vulnerable, and the power to give birth makes womb-envy at least as logical.

In short, the characteristics of the powerful, whatever they may be, are thought to be better than the characteristics of the powerless - and logic has nothing to do with it.

What would happen, for instance, if suddenly, magically, men could menstruate and women could not?

The answer is clear - menstruation would become an enviable, boastworthy, masculine event.

Men would brag about how long and how much.

Boys would mark the onset of menses, that longed-for proof of manhood with religious ritual and stag parties.

Congress would fund a National Institute of Dysmenorrhea to help stamp out monthly discomforts.

Sanitary supplies would be federally funded and free. (Of course, some men would still pay for the prestige of commercial brands such as John Wayne Tampons, Muhammad Ali’s Rop-a-dope Pads, Joe Namath Jock Shields - "For Those Light Bachelor Days", and Robert "Baretta" Blake Maxi-Pads.)

Military men, right-wing politicians, and religious fundamentalists would cite menstruation ("men-struation") as proof that only men could serve in the army ("you have to give blood to take blood"), occupy political office ("can women be aggressive without the steadfast cycle governed by the planet Mars?"), be priests and ministers ("how could a woman give her blood for our sins?"), or rabbis ("without the monthly loss of impurities, women remain unclean").

Male radicals, left-wing politicians, and mystics, however, would insist that women are equal, just different; and that any woman could enter their ranks if only she were willing to self-inflict a major wound each month ("you must give blood for the revolution"), recognize the preeminence of menstrual issues, or subordinate her selfness to all men in the Cycle of Enlightenment.

Street guys would brag ("I’m a three-pad man") or answer praise from a buddy ("Man, you lookin’ good!") by giving five’s and saying, "Yeah, man, I’m on the rag!"

TV shows would treat the subject at length. ("Happy Days": Ritchie and Potsie try to convince Fonzie that he is still "The Fonz," though he has missed two periods in a row.) So would newspapers. (SHARK SCARE THREATENS MENSTRUATING MEN. JUDGE CITES MONTHLY STRESS IN PARDONING RAPIST.) And movies. (Newman and Redford in "Blood Brothers"!)

Men would convince women that intercourse was more pleasurable at "that time of the month." Lesbians would be said to fear blood and therefore life itself - though probably only because they needed a good menstruating man.

Of course, male intellectuals would offer the most moral and logical arguments. How could a woman master any discipline that demanded a sense of time, space, mathematics, and measurement, for instance, without that in-built gift for measuring the cycles of the moon and planets - and thus for measuring anything at all? In the rarefield fields of philosophy and religion, could women compensate for missing the rhythm of the universe? Or for their lack of symbolic death-and-resurrection every month?

Liberal males in every fields would try to be kind: the fact that "these people" have no gift of measuring life or connecting with the universe, the liberals would explain, should be punishment enough.

And how would women be trained to react? One can imagine traditional women agreeing to all these arguments with a staunch and smiling masochism. ("The ERA would force housewives to wound themselves every month": Phyllis Shlafley. "Your husband’s blood is as sacred as that of Jesus - and so sexy too!": Marabel Morgan.) Reformers and Queen Bess would try to imitate men, and pretend to have a monthly cycle. All feminists would explain endlessly that men, too, needed to be liberated from the false idea of Martian aggressiveness, just as women needed to escape to bonds of menses-envy. Radical feminists would add that the oppression of the nonmenstrual was the pattern for all oppressions. ("Vampires were our first freedom fighters!") Cultural feminists would develop a bloodless imagery in art and literature. Socialist feminists would insist that only under capitalism would men be able to monopolize menstrual blood ...

In fact, if men could menstruate, the power justifications could probably go on forever.

If we let them.

I ain't no fortunate one. I realize I'm starting to sound redundant, but I think our current administration is redundant. Redundtantly retarded.



Yep.

Girl I'm gonna make you sweat. I saw an ad on the T today for this teen-geared website that's basically meant to traumatize teens into abstaining from sex. I realize I'm not a parent, but it seems to me that a healthier, more-productive use of our time and energy would be to teach our children that their sexuality is beautiful, that their bodies are sensistive, and that a healthy relationship is one where both partners (regardless of their sex) are mutually supportive and understanding. Instead of scaring teens into abstinance and demonizing boys for fucking and leaving girls, we should talk to teens about how to safely and beneficially engage in a sexual relationship. I'm not saying we should encourage teens to have sex, but I think we need to accept that kids are going to do it, and as adults it is our job to guide them. Not scare them. Jeez.

Welcome back my friends to the show that never ends. Today's Peter Pan bus was named "Swarthy Ruffian." Sadly, it was not wearing an eye patch nor did it great me with a hearty "Yar."

However, this was the interaction I had with the bus driver after sprinting to the bus for fear it was leaving:
Me: "Hi, how are you?"
Him: "Lousy."
Me: "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."
Him: "Yeah. Married."

...Um, what?