This may come as a shock to you, so please, take a seat lest I be liable for heads exploded: the women of Planet Earth are not driven to mass levels of insanity just because we bleed for a few days every month due a phenomenon known as "menstruation."
You do not, then, need to spend $1.99 on the iPhone "Code Red" app, which purports to be "a survival guide to her monthly cycle. Period!" The fact that you are alive and able to read this open letter proves my point: you have not been put in mortal danger by 50 percent of the world's population such that you need to "survive" something that does not even fucking happen to you.
Any woman who's ever been with a guy who can't keep his eyes to himself--or to his date, more specifically--knows how irritating, insulting and painful it can be to fight for attention with hot strangers. What you ladies may not know, is that according to Dr. Some Lady on YourTango.com, this behavior is your fault. If you weren't so ugly, frumpy and naggy, those men would suddenly become all-attentive Romeos whose only purpose in life is to serve your needs. Deal with it, girls, because the mens, they just can't help themselves!
I ... can't ... I mean ... Daily Mail ... this ... is .... aghghghghghghghg. Just ... ugh. This is the headline: "The problem pourers: women drinking too much at home because they can't measure units."
Women who drink at home are knocking back far more alcohol than they realise because they are hopeless at measuring units.
Research has found that women who pour wine often give themselves their recommended daily amount in just one glass. They are far worse than men at judging how much wine they can safely drink, the Department of Health study found.
My jaw is on the floor. I am literally bleeding out of my face because I ripped my jaw off and threw it on the floor because of this story. I will probably roll over it in my office chair in a second because I can't measure the distance between the chair rollers and the jaw that I ripped off my face and threw on the floor.
"Usually people in this man's position have given up hope. Maybe this gentleman has too, I don't know, but he hasn't given up his sense of self or his sense of expressing something about himself to the world. In my quick shot I had noticed his pale blue boots, what I hadn't noticed at first were the matching blue socks, blue trimmed gloves, and blue framed glasses. This shot isn't about fashion - but about someone who, while down on his luck, hasn't lost his need to communicate and express himself through style."
I was trying to decide what to eat for lunch today, and when I read on Sociological Images that Alliance for Animals in Russia has taken a page from PETA and decided not only to objectify women but to simulate gory violence against them in their campaign for animal rights, I figured I'd have a hamburger on principle. (But not one from Whole Foods!) And then I saw the actual photos and I realized I wasn't hungry for anything, animal or vegetable.
Sadly, this is nothing we haven't seen before. And S.I.'s Lisa says that's kind of the point, with "repertoires of contention," which are the available options for activists based on past activism:
Repertoires of contention are shared and they pass from one social movement to another. The sit-in, for example, was invented by civil rights activists, but all types of activists use sit-ins today. Sidney Tarrow calls this kind of tactic "modular." It can be borrowed from one kind of activism and applied to many different causes. Similarly, protest tactics can in one country can be borrowed and applied in another, so long as the conditions for activism are similar.
So really, you're welcome, women of Russia! Thanks to Western animal activism, you too get to be reverse-anthropomorphized via sex and violence!
If anything deserved a trigger warning, it's these atrocious photos.
First, a man shoots some scantily clad women wearing animal masks:
Recently, another load of nude Vanessa Hudgens pictures appeared online, prompting everyone to make fun of a very pretty young celebrity who made a relatively stupid decision. Of course, no one was making fun of him or herself for ogling the pictures, passing them around and being generally part of a culture that values naked women more than smart women. Somehow people were outraged she took a naked photo of herself but not that she thought taking a naked photo of herself would make her valuable/interesting/worthwhile, but OH WELLZ where would she get that idea, anyway!?
Brilliant social commentarian Dane Cook addressed this issue at the Teen Choice Awards by slut-shaming Hudgens, who he called out in front of the entire theater (before handing out the "Hottie" award !!!!) for being a big old whore. This didn't make it to the final broadcast, and from the look on Hudgens' face, Dane Cook may not make it through the week:
The dynamics here are ... astounding. Established, powerful white man gets on a microphone in front of thousands and tells a young Filipina woman she's stupid, slutty, less than. Ugh.
Because really, Dane Cook is the moral beacon by which young women should measure their worth and consider their behavior. Because his asshat attitude and frat-boy antics say "Excellent judge of character." And more than that, Dane, if anyone just needed to shut up and look pretty--something you appear to be happy to tell Hudgens to do--it's you. Call us when you write something funny. We won't wait up.
Looks like the folks at Psychology Today spent their Sunday arguing over whether or not feminism is "illogical, unnecessary and evil." Thank god somebody at a respected academic-ish publication has finally tackled this issue. Rush Limbaugh and the Quiverfull bunch must be thrilled with evolutionary psychologist Satoshi Kanazawa. (Wait, is that the dude who changed my life with Why Beautiful People Have More Daughters, you ask? It is!) His blog entry on the magazine's website argues that feminists don't understand history, their own brains, or the power of a nice set of tits. Mostly, his argument (if you can call wanky posturing an "argument") boils down to a fundamental misunderstanding of everything to do with feminism.
"An insurmountable body of evidence by now conclusively demonstrates that the vanilla assumption is false; men and women are inherently, fundamentally, and irreconcilably different. Any political movement based on such a spectacularly incorrect assumption about human nature - that men and women are and should be identical - is doomed to failure."
FAIL number one: feminists do not argue that men and women are identical. Feminists believe that men and women should be treated equally. But man, you'd have to Google "feminism" to find that out, so it's understandable that he could have missed it.
However, in the only two biologically meaningful measures of welfare - longevity and reproductive success - women are and have always been slightly better off than men. In every human society, women live longer than men, and more women attain some reproductive success; many more men end their lives as total reproductive losers, having left no genetic offspring.
FAIL number two: sorry, ladies, you are not worse off than men, and you never have been. You live longer--even though you're likely to live unhappier, abused and oppressed lives--and you get to have BABIES! What the hell do you need feminism for?
And now, Kanazawa's pièce de résistance:
Another fallacy on which modern feminism is based is that men have more power than women. Among mammals, the female always has more power than the male, and humans are no exception. It is true that, in all human societies, men largely control all the money, politics, and prestige. They do, because they have to, in order to impress women. Women don't control these resources, because they don't have to. What do women control? Men. As I mention in an earlier post, any reasonably attractive young woman exercises as much power over men as the male ruler of the world does over women.
The New York Times "The Moment" fashion and design blog is officially the most offensive thing I can think of right this second. In a post early this morning, some asshole named Rosecrans Baldwin writes about how blue collar fashion is all the rage! Is it any wonder that our economy is in the state it's in when America's creative class nobility reads and writes things like this?
"No reason, though, to invoke big words like class and gender in what can just be fun-with-aesthetics."
Yes, Rosecrans, there are plenty of reasons to "invoke big words like class and gender" in your article about blue collar fashion when we're in the middle of the worst economic crisis since the Great Depression. I know it's hard to see me talking from your dressing room over at Barney's, but try and get a glimpse: there's nothing chic about actually having to buy your clothing at Wal-Mart because you cannot afford anything else. You call it "fun-with-aesthetics." Many people call it "having money left over to buy food."
Look, I know this was a dinky one-off blog entry about a fashion trend. But this "no reason to invoke big words" crap cannot be allowed to fly in this economic climate. Rosecrans, you could have written something about how the emergence of a now-obvious, once latent class hierarchy in America, brought on by recent economic disasters, is changing design! But no, an interesting, thoughtful exploration of that idea would have been a good reason to "invoke big words like class and gender." And as we can see, there is no reason to do that. 'Cause you said so. But hey, since newspaper jobs are totally solid right now and there's no way you could be out on the street in a couple weeks, keep talking about how totes trendy plaid flannel is. Time was, I wouldn't expect some brainless fashionista at the NYT to be sensitive to issues about class and economy and income and luxury excess. I understand that people who believe that things like great design and couture clothing and $5000 handbags are important need a little sandbox to play in while the rest of the world keeps things chugging along. And even now, I think asking said brainless fashionistas to really explore issues of class would probably be a stretch, since taking fashion seriously eats up more brain cells than a decade on ecstasy. But my god, can we not make the effort?
Fact: Rihanna has had a gun tattooed on her side-boob. Now, watch this CNN anchor--who I really, really hope was forced to do this interview at tattooed gunpoint--interview Rihanna's tattoo artist about whether this has anything to do with that whole Chris Brown beating the shit out of her thing. Oh, yes:
I'm sure I don't have to tell ya'll how much of this is grade-A ridonk, but let's break it down. First off, "Why did Rihanna get a gun tattoo?" is not the "question everyone has been asking." That question is "What's for dinner?" or "Do I look fat in this?" or "Why is Rihanna recording a duet with Chris Brown?" or "Is nothing sacred?" or "Does this look infected?" Secondly, side-boob tattoos may seem like a great idea now, but gravity will not be havin' that shit for long.
Lastly, Brooke Anderson, how in the name of sweet, precious, baby Jesus did you manage to ask this question: "Do you think maybe people are blowing this out of proportion?" SARSLY!? Please clear this up for me. By "people," do you mean television producers with no news judgment? Or tattoo artists desperate for publicity?
A couple of weeks ago, I was a pitcher of Lone Star and a couple of whiskeys into a serious crush on the bartender at my local, a Ryan Adams lookalike in a pearl snap. So I sidled up to the bar and asked him, on the pretense of a conversation my friends and I were already having, what his favorite bands were. His response?
"I don't want to get all emo on you, but I don't really like things."
And so I put the napkin on which I'd written my phone number back into my pocket, headed back to our table, and regaled my cohort with the tale of the World's Mopiest Bartender. Maybe he wasn't interested in talking to me--highly likely. Maybe he was a mopey, emo jerk--highly likely. But a younger Andrea would not have been deterred. A younger Andrea would have been sure that she was just the magical pixie to turn this guy around. But this Andrea, well, she cannot be bothered.
And so that's why I'm telling you, ladies, of my new relationship mantra: "Leave it the fuck alone." Don't even go as far as "he's just not that into you." Even that is overthinking it. Have another drink and don't even start worrying about asshat behavior.
That includes, of course, not listening to the incredible bullshit being spouted by Steve Harvey, who told Oprah.com that he's just here to do you stupid women a favor by telling you how men really work in his new book, I'm Gonna Essentialize Gender, Excuse Bad Behavior and Tell Women They Need To Learn To Deal With Our Shit Or Get Off The Pot (alternately titled Act Like A Lady, Think Like A Man):
Harvey says this book has a special meaning for him. "This is the first
project that I didn't do for money," he says. "Other than my foundation
-- mentoring programs -- everything I do is for money. I tell jokes for
a check; I'm on TV for a check. ... But this [book] right here I did
purely to empower women."
Ah, Steve! What would we do without you? Have fulfilling relationships and lead happy lives? Oh, wait. Well, thanks for your input, anyway. Harvey goes on to provide the following revelations: men always approach women with a (sexual) agenda and don't want to hear the words "We need to talk."
Bullshit! I'm calling it right here, right now. There are jerks of both sexes/genders who are only interested in tail, there are jerks of both sexes/genders who don't want to hear the words "We need to talk," and there are surely millions of men the world over who aren't the emotionally unavailable assholes that every ladymag and self-help book make them out to be.
How do I know? Because while I've dicked around with plenty of jerks, the fact is that the majority of guys I know and have even dated, on occasion, have been thoughtful, emotionally reasonable people with average issues that have nothing to do with being born or raised with a penis in their pants. Maybe they're all horndog assholes, but I'm telling you what, if they are, they've done a damned good job hiding it from me. Dudes like Steve Harvey--who is, presumably, above the asshattery he's telling us to deal with--make all of the wonderful, thoughtful guys out there drift behind a douchebag-filled foreground.
When Steve Harvey--or anyone else--talks about how women need to adjust to "male" behavior like sex-fiending and emotional immaturity, it merely perpetuates stereotypes that do no one any good and it excuses, encourages and validates hurtful ways of thinking and acting. A better conversation: talk to people, not gendered tropes, and encourage them to go for things and individuals who make them happy.
If someone--a friend or boyfriend or otherwise--isn't giving you what you want, leave it the fuck alone.
Sometimes, we come across something that's sexist, but it needs a little explaining. Or something that's patriarchal, but perhaps not readily apparent. And then sometimes we come across this GameStop internal instructional video for employees that brags about how they sell games to the most enthusiastic, knowledgeable people on earth ... but now they're also ready to sell to women!
Oh. My. God.
Dude who posted it on YouTube claims it's an actual inside-job instructional vid, but I'm almost unconvinced that in 2009, anyone would be so effing stupid--even a company that shills notoriously female-objectifying video games--as to make something like this.
Hey dudes and men and bros and persons with penises, just totally tune out for a while. There's no possible way you can be interested in this entry. This is likely to be the most boring, gross thing you've ever read. Go play football, like you're supposed to. Because we're going to talk about PERIODS!
Maybe, just maybe, it's the ridiculous treatment given to menstruation by an actual doctor writing for the New York Times that keeps menstruation taboo between the sexes, and not anything that's actually to do with menstruation itself. I can't believe that, in a review of a "My Little Red Book," a book about women's first periods, Abigail Zuger, M.D., had the gall to write this:
"At this point, male readers may want to go outside and toss a ball
around for a while. No matter how sympathetic, how curious or how
deeply interested in life's little yuck factors you are, this
collection is unlikely to hold more than the mildest intellectual
appeal for you."
Hey, Doc Zuger, I've got an idea for you: how about not shaming menstruation as something that has a "yuck factor" and talking about how an engaging, funny, witty book might serve as a bridge between the sexes on a subject that has been unnecessarily filed in the "gross" section for way, way too long?
Nah. That would take insight and thoughtfulness and critical thinking. And you're only a doctor, after all. We'd never expect that from you.
Just did a search on Facebook trying to figure out which Nick Coles is the complete asshat who wrote today's "Top 7 Butterbodies" list on Spike.com. Surprisingly enough, none of the men I found looked like the combination of Jesus Christ, Brad Pitt, rock candy, kittens, puppies and whiskey that it would take to make a man attractive enough to pass this kind of judgment:
The true definition of a butterbody is a woman who has a beautiful face
but a body that's gone to butter. It's like the butterface, but in
reverse. If you are rich and famous, there is no excuse for being a
butterbody. It's your job to look fit and hot. Celebrities are not like
normal people. They have the means to pay for a full time trainer and
for someone to prepare their meals.
If you weren't swept away by his third-grade prose, consider being seduced by his masterful use of adjectives:
Salma Hayek has a beer gut, which she tries to hide by wearing flowing
dresses. She fools no one with this trickery. This lady is fat. It's
like she's carrying a spare car tire around her mid-section. Her only
saving grace is her magnificent breasts. The extra weight she gained
has gone directly to her breasts, and it is glorious.
On Mr. Coles' list: Sara Ramirez, Drew Barrymore, Salma Hayek, America Ferrera, Mandy Moore, Liv Tyler, and Tyra Banks. All ladies I can't say I'd be terrified to wake up and find I had the body of. No, not even close.
Articles like this make me feel totally useless. As an intelligent, self-respecting woman, I may have deceived myself into thinking that I neither date or befriend the kind of man (if that term is not too kind) who would find this funny. But if you are the kind of woman who does know these kind of men, please, please, do us all a favor and ... you know, I just can't think of something appropriate, here. Suggestions?
Anyone hopping on Yahoo! Personals to find love might do well to reconsider, given the company's association with the complete brainscrew that is Cosmopolitan. Last week, one Victoria Lucia composed an article headlined Fascinating Facts About Successful Single Men. It's basically a guide to sanctioned gold-digging, and there's lots I could say about the many, many insulting premises about men, women, heterocentricity and the continued and total uselessness of Cosmo itself. But you can read that for yourselves. I figured I'd rewrite a few of the best nuggets from a different perspective.
I give you "Fascinating Facts About Girls With Big Boobs."
Dating a girl with big boobs has long been a fantasy for some single men. In fact, your own father may have even quipped that it's just as easy to fall for a girl with big boobs as it is one with little boobs. And high-cup size, single women (those sporting D's, according to Rich Boy's hit "Throw Some D's On It") are on our radar even more thanks to such shows as "The Hills", "Gossip Girl," and "The Millionaire Matchmaker."
Plus, statistically, big tits are on the rise. According to the American Society for Aesthetic Plastic Surgery, there are more big tits in the world than ever: more than 360,000 women got breast implants or augmentation in 2005, versus 101,000 in 1997. Here's the lowdown on girls with mad mammaries.
Many Well-Endowed Women Aren't Making Milkies the Old-Fashioned Way
In the past, you would expect big-boobed ladies to be genetically endowed and firmly entrenched in the world of thick-strapped bras. "These days, though many young women go under the knife in big-risk, big-reward surgeries, more and more are successfully combining their credit lines with their breast lines," says Haitao Li, PhD, professor of finance at the University of Michigan.
You'll Find Them at Hotel Bars and Upscale Steak Houses
"When big-boobed women travel, they stay at posh hotels because they expect the best of everything," says Janis Spindel, matchmaker for wealthy professionals. And at dinner, they don't settle for anything less than grade-A beef, so four-star steak houses are prime ground for big-boobed business types. Before sitting down to rack up the bill (on their man's company expense account, of course), they'll probably hit the bar first.
But even better are the text ads for more Cosmo articles: "#1 Trick To Deepen His Love For You." Because men are incapable of love! And stupid! I better get to reading, guys. I have a lot to learn.
Looking to be talked down to in 200 words or less? Like cliche-driven prose about overpriced non-necessities? Enjoy being reduced to trite gender roles based on consumer trends? Then you're probably already a Daily Candy subscriber, but just in case you aren't, I figured I'd spread the good word.
Today in the D-C travel edition, "chic new bus companies" are touted as the new in way to get from city to city when, presumably, that first class seat on American fell through. Scoffs D-C:
"Take a bus? Really? Snuggle up to a Greyhound crackhead or brave ankle-deep garbage on the Chinatown Express?"
Get it--because poor people who are messy druggies take the bus! I bet they're, like, minorities or something, too. Grodie!
I know taking the bus isn't the most prestigious way to zip around the country, but this blatant snobbery is petty and petulant. Especially coming from a website that considers $295 clutch bags something you might pick up on your way to the grocery store. Granted, the "chic new bus companies" in question sound cool--give me WiFi or give me death--but there's no need to make people who actually have to ride the bus for economic reasons feel bad about it. The whole thing reads a little too much like a movie montage, the one where the rich girl loses her fortune and has wacky adventures trying to live like the regular folk. Soundtrack suggestions welcome--but I'm thinking a Beyoncé "Wheels On The Bus (Go Round And Round)" remix.