Monday, October 04, 2004

Saddam to Declare Candidacy for Iraqi Elections

Wouldn't this just be the perfect end to the perfect fuck-up?

Go democracy!

Ah, the WorkLife

Yellow just came into my office and dropped off some close-out documents. He set them down and burst into a rendition of Ice, Ice Baby.

I love working working here.

Oh, For Fuck's Sake.

Amanda over at Mousewords pointed me to this Today Show clip that is... downright laughable.

You know, I'm a year out of college, and I've never used the term "hook up." Amanda rants a lot better about this than I'm about to, so check out her rant here.

Yea, teenagers and young adults have sex. You know, like young people have always had sex, because, you know, it's fun, and it's hardwired. The difference between now and, say, the 60s and 70s is that now (because of AIDS) we're more likely to use condoms. You couldn't drink a beer in my college dorm without condoms springing up in abundance. In South Africa, you better bet everybody's getting it on - and you've never seen so much condom use (among the higher-end of the social heirarchy anyway) in your life. Sure, people are allowed to be more relaxed about sex in today's America - because women aren't forced or shamed into marrying the first guy they "hook up" with. And I agree with Amanda that what we're really talking about here is the "problem" of women who fuck around without "catching feelings." Fucking around without getting attached has practically been a definition of masculinity (and woe to those poor men who just want a "relationship") - it's cool that (I'm assuming, here) women feel empowered enough in their sexuality to choose when and with whom to sleep with and decide whether or not they're obliged to see more of him outside the buff.

Seeing these two "older" women (what, one's just past 30, the other's pushing past 40? C'mon, you guys, one of you grew up in the 80s, the other in the 60s, for fuck's sake - don't tell me teenagers never had sex "back in the good old days when we walked up hill both ways." That was yesterday, for goodness sake) discussing this topic so seriously in this clip sent me into giggles. Yea, right, haven't you guys been to college? How about high school? What's the difference between one-night-stands and serial dating? If all the two of you really want to do is hop into bed together, why go through a dating ritual for three months if it's already really clear that you're not compatable?

There's nothing so annoying as older people who totally blank out all memory of what it's like to have a libido. Frickin weirdos. It's the usual scenerio: sex among the unmarrieds is rampant and immoral, but the marrieds can have as much sex as they want with each other and in whatever random affairs they have, cause they're, you know, *married.*

Whatever.

Once More Around the Mulberry Bush

Was sick most of the weekend, which meant I stayed in bed and finished reading a bunch of books that I was reading concurrently. So, finished Kim Chernin's The Obsession, Nick Mamatas's Move Under Ground, and Sharon Shinn's The Shape Changer's Wife.

Short review would be a) old but base book about anorexia, half of which was interesting, the other half of which sort of waxed poetical about the female body. Not that I didn't appreciate that, mind you, but my own biases were getting the better of me, and I was getting ancy, as in "how much longer until this book is over?" ancy b) as for MUG, reading this book is like being on drugs. If you like that sort of thing, and you're a fan of Cthulu and/or Jack Kerouac, read this book. If not... well, this is an "acquired taste" sort of book c) and Shape Changer's Wife is a really great book, until you get to the epilogue. Which is crap. I'd forgotten that Sharon Shinn was a romance writer at heart... an American romance writer, where everybody needs to form chokeholds on each other at the end. So, read this, but if you're like me, skip the crappy romance-formula epilogue (which, I feel, undermined the entire point of the entire frickin' story. Ahem. But, that's me).