Things are different right now.
My two-track mind used to be: theatre, sex. Occasionally there’d be a third track--Buffy, for example, or Harry Potter around the times a book or movie came out. But now THE WORLD REVOLVES BACKWARDS ON ITS AXIS…because I have not been thinking about sex AT. ALL. My two tracks are now: real estate and electoral projections. Once I finally get the keys to my flat, I suspect we’ll be down to one.
Politics are consuming me.
But I am MUCH gratified to realize I am not alone. I have recently discovered Dan Savage’s Podcast (the “SavageLovecast”), and partially out of homesickness I’ve been listening non-stop (there are 103 episodes, after all—I’m up to 78, though I always listen to the most recent update as well). I think there’s fodder for multiple posts in having listened to all of these in quick succession*, and several of his principles—so evident when you hear them in dense amounts—have helped with my latest angsty issues. But this! In last week’s episode (102), in the intro, he actually says:
...I’m a little scattered, I’m a little tense, election day approaches, and we will get to your calls, because I assume you’re scattered, and you’re tense, otherwise you wouldn ’t be calling with your sex problems—AT A TIME LIKE THIS, when the future of the whole world is at stake, when our democracy teeters on the verge of complete and total bullshitification, you’re calling with your sex problems—I’m amazed that anybody can think of sex at a time like this, but I’ll do what I can. To focus. On your genitals.
(Bold emphasis mine, caps emphasis an attempted representation of his vocal stress.]
Dan Savage, a man who has built a career on his willingness to discuss any and every sexual issue—and who in fact has been known to merge sex and politics, as when he ran a contest that ended up redefining Santorum--is not thinking about sex right now. I think he and I are two pretty fucking salient examples of the MAGNITUDE of this thing that is about to happen, the knowledge that barring a large unexpected event (knock on wood, ptoi ptoi ptoi, etc), Barack Obama will soon be our President Elect. And having heard Dan say this, I feel absolved--one of the two or three main reasons I haven’t been posting is that I’m thinking less about sex and feminism and more about the nitty gritty of this election**. So, with Dan’s unwitting blessing, I will now share these thoughts with you.
My latest addiction is fivethirtyeight.com—“Electoral Projections Done Right.” You may have heard of this by now, as its readership has skyrocketed recently. What they do is based on statistics—they take all the major polls, each time they come out, and
run 10,000 election simulations (I don’t know exactly how, but the founder was on COLBERT forchrissake so you know he’s reputable). They then post the percentage of these elections each candidate wins (showing all their data). When I started reading the site, Obama was at around 70%. Today he’s at 90.9%. Nate Silver has made clear that if nothing SERIOUSLY MAJOR happens during the next 25 days (knock on wood, salt over the shoulder, etc), Obama wins, end of story. They also have excellent, easy-to-understand analysis of both polls and debates***.
So that’s all I talk about lately. Whenever I run into an American, or a Canadian, or a Brit whom I’ve heard mention Obama, I blurt out “Obama’s at [whatever it is] percent!” And if they care they go, “What?! NO. WAY.” And I have to clarify that I don’t mean in national polls, it’s not that 90.9% of the country says they’re voting blue, but rather the 10,000 simulations blah blah blah.
And then the other half of the time I ask them where they live and what they’re paying.
The good news? The other day I noticed a cute hipster guy in a Tesco Express and thought “I would totally do him.” So the prognosis is good. Hopefully on November 5th I can go back to non-stop thoughts about fucking and Brecht or whatever.
Knock on wood, ptoi ptoi ptoi.
PS: Maybe don’t listen to the rest of that particular podcast, because the first caller has the MOST DEPRESSING STORY I’ve ever heard. She sounds like SHE’S okay with it, but if you’re in a dark mood don’t go there.
*And after posting this I will shortly write a “Dudes I Like” post devoted to the man.
**The other two reasons are still not having a place to live and some significant personal angst for which this blog is not the appropriate forum.
***My mother visited last weekend, and I read her a post on why McCain’s latest Bill Ayres mudslinging isn’t going to have much of an effect, and she said, “I think that’s true,” which is quite the validation.)
Sunday, October 12, 2008
The Times They Are A-Changed
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Now Where Were We...
So, hey guys, guess what? I just moved to a different country, on a different continent! That's right, I now live in New York's sister city: London, England. So, that is my excuse for not having posted in OVER A MONTH.
So, what to say...I should post on things like Palin and polyamory and Dan Savage (NOT as related to each other, ew). And I will shortly. Right now I'm dealing with looking for a flat, and getting scammed out of £250 maybe, and getting my ass to stage combat class, and getting out of my hostel where people have sex in the room when I'm trying to sleep. So hopefully...later today! I will post more.
Cherrio, Luvs!
Monday, August 18, 2008
Do NOT Use As Directed
I've been particularly achy lately, mostly in the neck and shoulders. Recently, as I lay on the sofa, my cat decided she wanted to knead the upper part of my chest--far preferable to her usual, painful practice of kneading my belly fat--and I realized the culprit was my breasts. They're pretty large, after all, which can take its toll, and the cat paws had found, below the breast itself, chest muscle that greatly appreciated the massage.
After sort of idly massaging the area myself for a few days, a bold idea occurred to me. I took out my plug-in "all-body massager" and decided to use it for--GASP!--a body massage. As I moved it across my chest, down and around my sternum, and under my arms (not the pit, but the area a bra covers), I wondered with annoyance if the thing had gone soft from years of focusing solely on the aches between my legs*. I had to press pretty hard to feel that it was doing any good. While I knew I was finding the sore muscles--because it hurt--I didn't think it was actually helping, so I gave up. Not very satisfying.
And then today. UGH. I've made things TEN TIMES WORSE. All those muscles are sore and my breasts feel like they weigh about 35 lbs. each. My sternum is so sore to the touch I'm surprised I didn't bruise it.** I wore a sports bra all day and now, in my pjs and reading, I have to lie flat on a big pillow for some support. Can't someone just build me a nice shelf to put them on? I'm very fond of them but right now they might as well be lead balloons.
So, ironically, I used my vibrator in its official, packaging-touted function and it totally backfired. It will have to stick to massaging my clit, and forget about this "all-body" nonsense. I suppose it's just as well--I can get massages from my friends and family*** far more easily than I could a hand job, which is very much as it should be. And if it comes down to a splurge, I'd rather pay a masseur than a prostitute. Masseurs are fully trained.
*Which are definitely what you'd call "recurring."
**Though I do have a little almost-hickey on my right breast, which I'm pretty sure is not from other activities.
***And cat, apparently!
Sunday, August 17, 2008
The Schmuck Debate
I'm sitting here on a Sunday listening to old Dan Savage podcasts instead of going to the gym,* and he just fielded a call from a gay man who is not attracted to uncircumcised penises. I realized I'd not yet weighed in on the topic myself. The topic, of course, has three subheadings:
1) The Attractiveness Debate
Dan's caller is the evidence here--some people find uncircumcised penises unattractive, particularly in cultures where circumcision is the norm. It is, of course, the norm in MY culture, so it was only very occasionally that I've encountered a penis that was fully intact. And frankly, you don't always notice: it's dark, or there's a condom on it, or it's erect (in which case they mostly look the same anyway). So I never had a conscious opinion either way. It was only in my recent adulthood that I got a good, lights-on look at an uncut version, and I have to say...it was ADORABLE. It's true that I really liked this guy, which Dan says is key to getting over whatever you genital prejudices are, but it looked rather sweet and mysterious, as though it needed undressing. I developed a crush on it.** So to my cock-sucking friends out there, I hope you can view the presence or absence of a foreskin as but one other facet to find endearing about your sexual partner.
2) The Health Debate
Here we get more tricky. There are very recent studies that show circumcision reducing the transmission of HIV by as much as 50%...in Africa. It's unclear why, and there are a lot of other factors that could be at play here, given that the public health landscape of Africa is pretty different from our own. (And condoms are better anyway! So use those whatever your status.) Most previous research shows that there's no hygienic difference between a circumcised penis and an uncircumcised penis, provided the penis-bearer has been taught the relatively simple art of Keeping It Clean.
3) The Penile Rights Debate
For me, this is what it comes down to. There is the argument that removing the foreskin decreases sexual sensation.*** Furthermore, sometimes the mohel or the doctor screws up, and your child is left with severely decreased, or nonexistent, sexual functioning.**** And then there's the simple fact that we as a society are saying, for no actually good reason, "Your genitals are bad. There is something inherently wrong with them which we must fix, painfully, as soon as possible." I have no opinion as to whether the pain of circumcision saddles guys with a life-long neurosis, but I wouldn't let someone shave off part of my daughter's clitoris just because the bible said so.
Obviously, most circumcised guys come out just fine. There are a lot of them out there, apparently not crippled either physically or emotionally. There's no judgment here--I suppose if I have a son, and there is a father in the picture, I would leave the decision up to him. (The baby's father would, after all, have far more experience having a penis than I.) But if the decision were left up to me, I don't think I could go through with it, not with an easy mind. I'm a Jew, but obviously not one who does things solely because my religion demands it. And since I don't know entirely which side of the debate is right, I expect I would err on the side of caution.
What do you guys think?
*Obvi.
**Of course, things went WAY south, and a few months later I would tell a friend that I hoped this dude's new girlfriend "was reluctant to suck his uncircumcised dick." Which a) sounds sort of like a gypsy curse and b) was not very mature, but heartache requires only public maturity, not private.
***In my unrelated research into the evolution of monotheism, I discovered that followers of Asherah, a pre-YHWH fertility goddess, who honored her by fucking. These worshippers (Semites, aka future Jews) believed an uncircumcised penis was blasphemous, as the lessened sensation of circumcision allowed men to last longer, and thus worship more. So there's that.
****Then there were those mohalim who were giving 8-day-old boys Herpes because, traditionally, they would put the babies' penises in their mouths after the cut as an analgesic. But let's not blame that on circumcision as a whole.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Getting To The Root Of Things
Jezebel's awesome Dodai just wrote an interesting post on her dislike of mirrors--or, more specifically, her discomfort in being confronted with her full reflection. This instantly reminded me of the brief period of time when my hair was pink:
(Strangely, not a well-photodocumented part of my life.)I dyed my hair pink in the winter, just as I was turning 23, during a time when I was SEVERELY depressed--like, Panicked-mother-screaming-at-my-pharmacologist depressed. I don't know if this was rationally, consciously my reasoning at the time, but I needed a pick-me-up. I think I was remembering a Times Magazine "Lives" piece from many years ago (which I have not been able to find) about a young Asian woman who dyed her hair pink and discovered the joyful effect it had on people around her. It made people smile. And I remember the time I first noticed my own cotton candy tresses having this effect--on myself.
Sometime before or after an appointment with my therapist, I went to DSW to look for cheap-ass shoes (another form of anti-depressant). I was unshowered, unkempt, my hair in a messy ponytail and some old show shirt on my slumped torso. I glanced up and accidentally saw my reflection in the mirror. And I smiled. It was the first time, perhaps since childhood, that I felt attractive. Attractive unto myself--not just, oh I look good today because of my hairstyle, because this top is flattering, because of my make-up, because I'm having a good face day, but actually like it didn't matter what I did in the morning, or what I wore, or any of that. I felt like if I were messy and poorly dressed, as I was that day, I looked like an attractive person who hadn't showered rather than an ugly hopeless wreck. It was an amazing feeling of relief.
Which doesn't necessarily make SENSE, because what had changed was, after all, a question of what I'd done to my hair. But I felt like me. No matter how I looked, I was getting across something about myself that I wanted to get across. And I kind of miss it. But the months passed, and as time came to redye, so came time to interview for post-grad jobs, so I went back to the red. Besides, towards the end (as my depression began to be manageable) I did start to feel a little silly. Part of what I'd been combating, with pigment, was how fucking SERIOUS everything felt all the time. But at heart I guess I'm a serious person. Pink was an important place for me to visit, but I couldn't live there.
And life goes on. The last time I saw my reflection and felt truly, inherently beautiful was when I was on Ecstasy, but the mirror and I still have our friendly moments. And I still have fun playing the frosted cupcake now and then--pink has won itself a cherished place in my wardrobe and in my heart. Because part of the fun was, for once, letting myself be a girl. Not acting so tough. I think, looking back, that was important to helping myself heal--embracing both my toughness and my softness. And now of course we're getting into tricky territory because if pink=girl and pink=soft, does girl=soft? I think what I was telling myself was: no. Look. You are a girl, and you are not soft. And You are a human, and you are very soft. So cut yourself some fucking slack. If you don't let yourself be soft, you will break.
So, that's my anecdote. I just wish I had more pictures.
Stop The Presses, I'm In Love
With Keith Olbermann. Just watch:
It's sad to have to be thinking about Rush Limbaugh ever again, but in recompense Keith is giving me butterflies.
[via Feministing.]
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Wednesdays With Kyle (Working Girl Edition)
Remember Kyle? My favorite e-correspondent on the ins and outs of third wave feminism recently pointed out that I don't make clear on this blog my stance on prostitution. We agreed that you can probably guess based on my posts about other things, but hey--let's actually talk about it!
-I believe that prostitution should be decriminalized and regulated.
-I believe our justice system's MO of prosecuting the hooker and not the john is both stupid and reprehensible.
-An underage girl having sex for money should be treated as a victim, not a criminal.
-I am appalled by the way our society frequently treats prostitutes as negligible human beings.
I do recognize that this is a tricky subject. Obviously, many sex workers would rather not be in their line of business, and rather than punish them further we need to provide more alternatives to poverty. The Clinton administration slogan on abortion was "safe, legal and rare*"-- I suppose my stance on prostitution is "safe, legal and willing."
*Speaking of which, this phrase has been dropped from the 2008 Democratic Party platform--in exchange for more detailed language which many feminists feel improves the platform, in that it is more specific in its support for comprehensive sex ed, family planning, and post-partum help for women who DO have children. Hooray for saying "choice" and meaning it! (And it was primarily written by Obama's policy director, Karen Kornbluh!)
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