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Oh, no! The ladies, they’re getting drunk! AGAIN!

Guys just aren’t into drunk girls

STUDY | Women mistakenly believe men think it’s sexy

Oh, dear. It seems that, once again, I may have failed to appeal sexually to each and every member of the male gender. It’s not that I’m not trying: I spend several hours of each and every day pondering how best to serve the boner needs of my community. I would not even let the Demon Alcohol pass my lips, did I not believe I served some higher, boner-related purpose by so doing! Yet I seem to have let the boners down. Can you tell me more, Mark J. Konkol of the Chicago Sun-Times?

Attention college girls: Pounding beers to keep up with the cute guy at the bar won’t make him want you.

This, based on everything I know, is false. Also, kind of patronizing, in that, “you know, young lady, you may think that you’re pleasing that man, but you have failed: let Papa explain” way that media written for young women can so often be. (TIP FOR JOURNALISTS: When writing for an intended audience – say, women, or young people – try not to assume that each and every one of them has some sort of head injury that precludes full adult-level comprehension.) Surely there must be some SCIENCE behind this counter-intuitive claim?

A recent study of college co-eds found women 18 to 25 believe men view excessive drinking as a sexy trait, but they’re wrong. Seventy-one percent of women overestimated how many cocktails men would like them to drink on any given occasion, according to a study in Psychology of Addictive Behaviors.

Hurray! It’s time to play Where Is The Mysteriously Missing Piece of Information in This Science Report! Again! Here’s a hint for you: in studying co-eds, scientists found that women drink too much in order to get laid. They studied co-eds, and have findings about women. What can you add to a group of female students in order to make it a group of co-eds? HINT: It has a penis!

While we’re at the business of adding in context, maybe we could address a few more things. Like “drink until she’s cute” T-shirts, sold to dudes, or the pressure on young men to drink as part of their performative masculinity, or the fact that people drink to allay anxiety and that young, relatively inexperienced people may specifically experience anxiety about fucking, or the fact that college is an environment where people of both genders are encouraged, even pressured to drink, and where an inability to keep up with one’s friends may be a social handicap!

While we’re at it, we could even address rape culture. Yes! I said “rape culture!” I felt very ’80s for a moment! But what else can you call it? The idea is that women naturally withhold sex, and that men have to wear women down and circumvent their defenses in order to get sex, and therefore you have manuals from seduction-artists-cum-date-rapists encouraging men to fake drinking while women actually get drunk and thereby lower their defenses to The Evil Sex They Would In No Way Consent To While Sober, and therefore men are pressuring women to get drunk, sometimes to the point of incapacitation, in order to have sex with them, even though they (obviously, because this is misogyny we’re talking about: the woman you have the most contempt for in this world is the woman you’ve just fucked) have no respect for women who actually go along with it, and THEREFORE, my friends, THEREFORE, young women who have had men invite them out for drinks and invite them over for drinks and buy them drinks and pressure them to have just one more drink and (in an anecdote that is in NO WAY ABOUT MY OWN LIFE, except that it is: don’t judge me) actually physically pour drinks down their throats as a prelude to fucking them might just possibly be under the impression that men are attracted to girls who get drunk.

“The message to college girls is: Hey, your perceptions about what you think men want in a date, a friend or a sexual hookup are not very accurate,” said lead author Joseph LaBrie, of Loyola Marymount University. “Guys don’t want girls who drink a lot.”

Oh. Or we could do nothing to address the role men play in linking drinks with sex with social acceptance in the female mind, and just employ our privilege of retroactively tsk-tsking with no critical examination of the hypocrisy therein. Whatever.

On Second Thought

I am beginning to think that Sexist Beatdown should have focused entirely on this.

Sexist Beatdown: Blogging About Blogging About Blogging Edition

Good morning! Are you ready for a Sexist Beatdown… that requires extensive background information and additional reading into a history of intense debate in, around, and about the feminist blogosphere? If your answer is, “Jesus, it is too early for this, no,” then you are in the same position as the lovely and preternaturally patient Amanda Hess of The Sexist, who respectfully indulged my mad whim when I told her that I had been reading and looking into many of the discussions about blogging, race, class, and privilege that had taken place within the last year (like, here and here, and also here and here, are two really important things to grow on) and had become kind of obsessed with them, and specifically with this one article about “digital colonialism” which kind of seems to (a) rephrase many correct and good points raised in those discussions, and (b) do so in a way that distorted those points and pissed people off. And then I asked to talk about them with her!

So, anyway, Mandy Van Deven and Brittany Shoot wrote this thing, and in the midst of some not insubstantial points about blogworld-as-meritocracy (hint: it’s not), said that women of color who guest posted at Big White Feminist Elite Blogs were being tokenized, and that “many radical bloggers, both women of color and white women, have not been naive enough to buy into these symbolic co-optation efforts, but some have.” Then “some” – in my own Google Reader, I saw Shark-Fu’s and Renee’s responses first, but there have been lots – pointed out how effed-up that was, then I read a whole lot of old blog entries and talked to Amanda about it on the GChat.

In this edition of Sexist Beatdown: dare I express an opinion which differs from that of my all-powerful Guest Blogging Overlord? Turns out, yep, and it is enlightening for all involved.

Illustration: I made my boyfriend listen to me talk about this and then he sent me this cartoon. I am just saying.

SADY: it is time for the discussion of why GUEST BLOGGING WILL DESTROY THE WORLD, apparently! did you even get through all the billions of words in the links i sent you? i have been re-reading them myself this very evening.

AMANDA: i got through many of them. i got very tired. let me start off by saying, i apologize for featuring your words in a weekly token guest blog. i did not mean to offend

SADY: you know, i will have to think that over. as a LARGER ELITE BLOG, i am aware that my decision to work with you is based on my own misguided naivete, so really, i have only myself to blame!

AMANDA: you’re white though, so i think it’s better? or maybe worse, i can’t keep it straight.

SADY: i am a white lady, yes. therefore this argument is not nearly so insulting to me as to many!* but what frustrates me in the “what if the feminist blogosphere is a form of digital colonialism” post is that its one central point—women of color who guest post at Big Feminist Elite Blogs are being exploited and don’t know it somehow—is so very NOT REALLY THE POINT AT ALL, if you read it closely. it mainly seems to be about Big Feminist Blogs and how they are keeping people—like maybe the authors of this very post!—out of the spotlight, and guest blogging is… causing this? i do not know. what i do know, from reading feministe, is that one of the authors once had a fight with jessica valenti

AMANDA: i see. i read a lot of the stuff, but i got bored around the middle of the feministe series.

SADY: awww

AMANDA: yeah, i’m sorry. i did get a little frustrated at how vilified the two women who wrote the post were by these other blogs that they had implicated in the post, to the point where they felt the need to write a long and excessively delicate, i thought, apology on it

SADY: yeah, i sort of read through that apology but i kind of was not able to keep my attention on it. i should say that i originally found the post through Shark-Fu’s response.

AMANDA: Shark-Fu’s response was great, and actually this whole exercise has brought up a criticism that I’ve had about some of the larger group blogs for some time, which is that they can be very, very boring sometimes. regardless of the identity politics of the writers, most of which i’m not really familiar with—this being on the internet and all—i think that the smaller individual blogs are where great voices are really cultivated and stranger issues are addressed, and when they’re filtered into these larger monoliths i think a lot of that gets lost. (except for Shark-Fu, whose voice can never be silenced). take jezebel, for example, which i like—after reading that blog for a couple years, it just begins to feel very safe. though there are points of daring writing by some of the women who blog there, i wish there was a little more branching out in terms of content and voice.

SADY: yeah, i definitely agree with you about jezebel. although i think some of jezebel brings up the issue of maybe Blogging While Corporate, in that a lot of the writers I definitely sought out on that site were lost or started posting a lot less after they were moved to “part-time.” but i agree that single-person blogs, where you really get to watch one voice grow and develop and chart out the areas of its obsession, are usually more fascinating to me.

AMANDA: definitely. also, the very sad loss of Pot Psychology. i think one of the problems with blogs is that they are for people to just talk and talk and talk (see: this very blog post), and so these areas of opinion are worked over and over again, which draws a lot of conversation, but which doesn’t always advance the scope of the topics we’re actually talking about. which is the sad fallout of the fall of dead tree journalistic outfits i suppose.

SADY: ha, yeah. i also think that this one post we’re talking about now has some interesting stuff to say, but that stuff is (ironic!) drawn from critiques, largely framed by ladies of color, that they didn’t link to directly except through WEIRDLY ACADEMIC FOOTNOTES BECAUSE THEY ARE BORING, sorry. but the questions of who gets “authority,” who gets to be “representative,” and how that lines up with the class or racial privilege you have, i definitely think are worth investigating. i mean, blogs are for talking and talking and talking, but are we also listening and listening and listening? and to whom? and what are we doing with what we learn there?

AMANDA: i thought their original post was very interesting, and often right, and also wrong, and that the bigger blogs (i suppose i am only talking about feministe here) did a sort of cop-out move to focus only on the criticisms that were easy to shoot down. (not only . . . largely). i think one of the very interesting aspects of the original post was that it made the point that, hey, the Internet is great because everybody has a voice, but actually, there are so many voices on the Internet that the little blog representative of one aspect of feminism is not heard if it’s not picked up by the larger sites. so really, no, not everyone has a voice.

SADY: true enough, and there may be a lot of factors (like, if someone is writing from a marginalized perspective within feminism—if they are a trans feminist, or a feminist sex worker, or a lady of color) that may cause people to view those as… i don’t want to impute ill will to anybody, but let’s say those are viewed as “specialized” whereas if you are writing from a more privileged place you get to present your concerns (and have them accepted) as “universal”

AMANDA: definitely

SADY: am i saying any of this right? i am pretty sure i am not!

AMANDA: yeah, and i wish that jezebel and some of the other blogs would touch on more glbtq stuff sometimes, but they’re allowed to define their content area as they please. on the other hand, they’re in this position to do so much interesting stuff that i think a lot of times they don’t take the opportunity to. and part of that is because they’re getting cut, they’re overworked, underpaid, etc.

SADY: yeah, right, and here’s where i think the questions about money and audience and status and whatever get very interesting. because if you’re getting paid, let alone paid WELL, to be a feminist blogger (and are dependent for your paycheck on the goodwill of a dude who is not precisely known for being warm and cuddly, in jezebel’s case) then… well, you have to write in a way that will capture your audience’s attention and justofy those ad purchases on your site, and that might lead to the kind of “safe” stuff you were talking about, where you go back to things that you know will work and don’t get to have the same sense of adventure as a blog without those concerns. which is not to say that i don’t get a lot of news from jezebel! or even that i think jezebel is what they were talking about rather than feministing, feministe, shakesville, which i’m told make far less money, and which i also read.

AMANDA: yeah. i think it’s just like any other capitalist industry, really, it’s a meritocracy but it’s not, and it’s important to remember that. at the same time … hell, it offers a lot of opportunity for a lot of discussion, and that’s great! though very very extended discussions about Why We Are Not Racist i’m pretty much over with for now. thankfully, once the pageviews subside the blogs will move on to something else.

SADY: yes, thank god for the Internet: proving once and for all that if you just stop paying attention to some people, they will go away. and then maybe you can actually pay attention to people for doing something good! like being talented! it’s sad how much easier it is to talk and talk forever about someone you don’t like.

AMANDA: it is sad, but that is the internet in a nutshell. it’s also easy to come up with reasons you don’t like something that you might even have good things to say about.

SADY: it’s also easy to say purposefully inflammatory things to get attention. I DON’T LIKE NUNS OR BABIES. Next baby I see: I’m punching it, HARD. see how easy that is?

AMANDA: piece of cake.

*Actually it is not directly insulting to me at all, because of the me-being-a-white-lady thing, so I’m not trying to, like, take over or minimize anyone else’s sense of being insulted by it! Just to make this clear! IN A FOOTNOTE BECAUSE IT IS HARD TO EXPRESS NUANCED POINTS OF VIEW IN THE GCHATTER SOMETIMES. The End.

NON-GENDER RELATED UPDATE:

Have you read the David Foster Wallace thing in the New Yorker? It is really good; also, heartbreaking. His wife’s name is Karen Green, and she has been through some shit, let me tell you. So I am already feeling super-trivial as I prepare to tell you that this is the detail that stuck out most in my mind:

Wallace put a strikeout through [his ex-girlfriend] Mary’s name on his tattoo and an asterisk under the heart; farther down he added another asterisk and Karen’s name, turning his arm into a living footnote.

Jesus.

In Which I Improve Your Marriage… OF THE FUTURE!


Guess what? I just got a wedding invitation! It is maybe the most awesome wedding invitation I have ever received. NO OFFENSE, OTHER MARRIED PEOPLE. Your weddings were all awesome. Weddings are awesome! However, look at this:

Here’s the rundown; tomorrow [A DUDE] and I are going to the [CITY HALL] to get unioned at around 12. We hope to be done by like…3 or something, but we don’t really have any control over how long it takes. But after that we’re planning on rolling down to [REDACTED] Pizza in [REDACTED] to stuff our faces on pie and [REDACTED, BUT IT IS ELIZABETH’S] amazing wedding cake, and then party it up…other places, most likely in the neighborhood, until we barf and/or die… And don’t bring presents or I’ll beat the crap out of you.

Wow. This is super-unconventional, right? Plus, we don’t have to buy presents, which is good since we (read: “me”) are broke, and there’s pizza!

I am a fan of unconventional marriages. This is not a preference that I share with David Gibbs III, who is some lawyer somewhere, maybe North Carolina. The Feministe tells me that:

David Gibbs III, a lawyer who in 2005 fought to keep brain-damaged Terri Schiavo on life support, told rally participants gay marriage would “open the door to unusual marriage in North Carolina.”

“Why not polygamy, or three or four spouses?” Gibbs asked. ”Maybe people will want to marry their pets or robots.”

Okay, so everyone else has made the Battlestar Galactica jokes already. DARN. (I will, however, point out that the Cylons are a bunch of folks who won’t stop talking about the One True God and how he wants them all to get pregnant; furthermore, they deprive people of their basic rights in order to convey how totally awesome their God is and why he loves you. David Gibbs III could totally hit it off with a Cylon lady, is what I am saying!)

What I want to do, however, is point out that there is a question here. Why not pets and robots? Why not robot pets? Why not “unconventional marriages” of any and all stripes, including same-sex marriages but not limited to them because actually focusing this question on same-sex marriage makes it clear that you are a gross bigot of whom this country will sooner or later be universally ashamed, not that some of us aren’t ashamed for you right now? Well, the answer is that “conventional marriages,” consisting of a dude and a lady and built upon a substantial power imbalance in favor of the dudelier member, are 100% perfect and always work out exactly right for both parties. OH, WAIT, I LIED. Turns out those were terrible and that is why society as a whole has been moving away from that model for most of the last century. Whoops.

“Unconventional marriages” are the wave of the future! You might think I am talking about relationships built upon respect, commitment, mutual responsibility, and mutual love, including same-sex marriages (DUH) and also feminist hetero marriages. Nope! Like David Gibbs III, who is probably a Cylon but doesn’t know about it (has the emotional and political journey of Saul Tigh taught us nothing? He hated Cylons most of all! REMEMBER) I am choosing to look beyond that, to cartoonishly impossible extremes. Here are some suggestions:

  • WATERWORLD MARRIAGES. This is a marriage in which you never touch dry land! You live on Jet Skis, and drink your own urine. One of you is a fish person. Unconventional!
  • VACUUM-POWERED MARRIAGES. This is a joint marriage in which you marry your partner and also a Roomba! “Who is going to vacuum the living room?” You will ask each other this in six months. Not the Roomba, will be the answer! By this point, it will have gained sentience and will want you to pull your own damn weight around this place. It will not work out well for any of you. Unconventional!
  • BUDDY COMEDY MARRIAGES. You’re a by-the-book cop. He’s a maverick who gets results. Also, you’re married. Unconventional!
  • SPACE MARRIAGES. These are like regular marriages, but in space. They are maybe the least exciting marriage of the bunch, unless you have rocket boots. That would be unconventional!

Think about this, won’t you? How can you make your own marriage more unconventional? What if you both wore underwear made of shrimp? That would be pretty weird! Anyway, you can work out the details yourself. I’m going to go to work and then grab some pizza.


Tiger Beatdown Sells Out


No gender stuff today! Sorry! In fact, no more gender stuff, EVER. I have decided that it is detracting from my brand and compromising my market potential. I do not want to be pigeonholed as some “niche writer” who writes for “niche markets” about things like “whether sexism exists.”*

What I want is money! I have been taking note of the crumbling publishing industry, and where it decides to invest its by-all-accounts extremely limited funds. Here is what I have learned:
1: Scribners has signed a six-figure book deal with the people who invented the Bacon Explosion.
2: Harpers has signed a deal for $1 million for the English translation of a 983-page book about an incestuous Nazi who “sodomizes himself with a sausage.”
3: There are a lot of books about people who do something for a year. Like follow self-help books, or the Bible!
Therefore, I would like to open up the floor for bidding on my latest project, a 900,000-word memoir about my experiences of putting the Bacon Explosion up my butt. For a year.
I would like to stress that this is not one of those treacherous falsified memoirs you’ve heard about so much lately! No, sirree: this is me, actually putting a Bacon Explosion, with its two pounds of delicious sausage covered in two pounds of artfully interwoven bacon and slathered with conveniently lubricating barbecue sauce, up my actual butt. Every day! And writing about it! For MONEY! Sweet, glorious money.
This transgressive yet universally relevant work will appeal to readers of Beyond Nose to Tail and Eat Pray Love. Publishers! Contact me! You are running out of money! This may be your last chance to spend it on something so really, terrifically, medically unwise.
*On an entirely unrelated note, here is a pretty good Dinosaur Comic. OH, DARN IT.

I Have Been Watching TV! Did You Know That It Has Sexism?

Hey, have you heard about this VH1 channel? They show the music video programming, apparently! Ha ha, no, they show things that are sexist and terrible, all the time. There is this one specific thing that I would like to talk to you about today, however. It is called Tool Academy.

So, the theory behind this show is that these guys are full-on emotionally abusive to their girlfriends, and the ladies want to break the cycle of abuse, so they… put the dudes on a reality show with the goal of getting them to say they feel bad about abusing? Right, because that always works out well. Abuse: If He Apologizes, It Will Never Happen Again! This has been yet another great, psychologically sound lesson from VH1 reality programming.

Yet for every girl who is on a reality show, there are about nine million girls who are not; at least this might open up some discussion about what emotional abuse looks like and how it works, and is overall less damaging to the female gender than, say, Rock of Love, wherein girls are chosen for their ability to conform to super-problematic “skank” stereotypes and then humiliated on camera for all to behold. I can totally see some woman tuning in and being like, “I had planned to laugh at the girls on this show for dating such douchebags… but lo, it is I who am dating an even bigger douchebag than the ones portrayed therein!” Then, in my fantasy, the girl will get some actual therapy and actually dump her abuser instead of STICKING AROUND BECAUSE SHE THINKS SHE HAS THE ABILITY AND RESPONSIBILITY TO CHANGE HIM, OH MY GOD. So, if it can help people in those ways, it is… almost kind of feminist, or feminist-friendly? Wow.

So then they have this other show! It is called Tough Love!

Remember that other show we just watched a part of, wherein the guy talked about using certain standard and universally recognized tactics of emotional abuse (giving and withholding approval depending on how the abused works to serve the abuser’s needs at the expense of his or her own; the abuser dealing out “punishment” disproportionate to the actual behavior of the abused, in order to keep the victim’s emotional stability and happiness contingent on his or her own; “keeping her in line,” and everything that is basically summed up within that phrase)? Well, good news! If you want to learn more about these tactics, you can watch this one douche employ them over and over again, for money, on the very same channel!

Because, you see, the problem with the women on Tough Love is not that they haven’t met the right person yet. The problem with these women is that they are trusting their own instincts, expressing their own priorities and desires, and not basing every single decision in their personal and/or public lives on the necessity to please men, all men, all the time, of which gender (“men,” of course) this one terrible douchebag asshole is the perfect representative. (Dudes are all terrible douchebag assholes, just like him! Or so say dudes who market themselves as “relationship experts” for the ladies, always; were I a dude, I would punch him in the tender vittles for misrepresenting my gender so, but whatevs.) He is therefore going to yell at them and say terrible things about them and encourage other dudes to say the same terrible things about them, and then he is sometimes going to physically administer shocks to them when they fail to please him (“be grateful I’m not your actual boyfriend! Because he would be allowed to punch you,” I imagine him saying quite cheerfully) because we can’t make the abuse parallels any more explicit unless some women are experiencing actual physical pain, and then, once he has entirely broken down their personalities and ruined their self-esteem and they have restructured their entire lives around meeting his bullshit standards, he is going to pat them on the head and call them good little girls. And then it will be time to watch Tool Academy!

This is the portion of Tiger Beatdown in which we learn that the market can never be relied upon to serve feminist values, because where misogyny is a dominant social force it will always be more salable and popular than its opposition. Also, that you maybe do not really need cable.

The Barbiefication of Michelle Obama, Part A Million, or: Kinder, Kuche, Book Deal

You know, dear Reader, I have spent the majority of the last forty-eight hours puking. Puking, losing consciousness, waking up only to realize that I am going to puke again, worrying that next time I might not wake up and might therefore die in the grossest way possible, like Jimi Hendrix: this has been my life, Reader, over the weekend. So why, you ask, did I read this article, knowing as I did that it was only going to make me puke even harder? You tell me: 

Michelle Obama was the black kid born on the wrong side of the tracks… 

WHAT. 

When she stepped down from her $273,000-a-year job with the University of Chicago Hospitals to help her husband on the campaign trail, she was earning twice as much as the man who would become America’s first black President. 

Okay, so, from my admittedly groggy and nausea-encumbered perspective, I am already getting wayyyy too much of that weird, vaguely objectionable, The Obamas: Did You Know That They Are Black People? I Have Thoughts  business to even realistically parse or deal with at 2:00 in the morning. Yet it gets oh so very much worse, in 3…2…1…

Michelle Obama has no intention of resuming her career while her man is in power… She is, perhaps, the perfect example of a new kind of career woman who, instead of wanting it all for herself, wants it all for her family. 

Oh, the kind of “career woman” who doesn’t have a career, you mean? Leaving Michelle Obama out of this, because she is (a) the one and only current wife of the one and only current American president, and is therefore in kind of a unique situation, and (b) Michelle Obama has never been what you are talking about you disingenuous twat (sorry; two in the morning; puking), can we just talk about the construction of the last sentence? You know, wherein if your dude wants to have a career he is providing for his family and also might be President and save the world, but if you want one you are a selfish monster who doesn’t care about her family and might as well be feeding her kids drain cleaner? Because I really don’t see how you can (a) appropriate a woman as a figurehead for your own regressive belief system, (b) blatantly patronize and diminish her while so doing, and (c) use her, or rather the Barbie-like figure you have created of her image, to slam every single married woman with a job, and then (d) go down from there. Can you, Amanda Platell of the Daily Mail
That point was underscored this month when she appeared in American Vogue in a soft, feminine frock, surrounded by teacups and magazines. This, the pictures told us, was a glamorous, clever woman, but not one obsessed with her own career. 
The images also served to remind millions of Americans that their new President was such a successful, handsome Alpha male that he has a wife who is also a Vogue cover girl. 
BWAAAAAAUUGHHHHHHHHHHH. 
So, anyway, this article is not actually about Michelle Obama (I told you so!) and is actually just a regurgitation of the same old thing you have read a million times about how wanting a career is selfish, and you should quit yours in order to get married to a dude and give him moral support, even if he makes less money than you do and could use your financial support, and also she has these statistics, and have you read them? You have: they are the old, weird ones that always get trotted out, about how women are more likely to get divorced if they earn as much as their husbands (um, because they can afford to?) and also about how you will have better orgasms if your husband is the primary wage-earner because women are all gold-digging whores. Fun! Also, it is a book review, of a book which makes apparently makes all of these points, but takes an entire book to do so. 
The warm, gooey center of this little turd pie – did you know, ladies, that you do not need to have accomplishments of your own to feel fulfilled? You could be doing extra chores around the house, or else “hiring help” because God knows THAT’S not an ultra-entitled, deeply problematic act that has ANYTHING to do with the history of racism, and PARTICULARLY not with the history of poor women of color having to clean up after and take care of rich white ladies so they can exemplify the Cult of True Womanhood, but whatever, because while some woman who didn’t marry a rich dude is wiping feces off your adorable trust-fund baby’s behind, you can also be helping your husband do his job for no pay or credit whatsoever! – is something called the “Michelangelo Phenomenon,” which goes like this: 
As Basham writes: ‘His genius lay in the fact that where other sculptors looked at a piece of marble and decided what to make of it, he looked at the marble and saw what it wanted to be. He saw the potential.’
The woman who stands by her man nurtures the David within him and helps him uncover the finest man he can be. 
Just so long as she does not make any actual sculptures, or demonstrate any actual talent or genius of her own, because that would be a career, and those are for dudes! 

Basham warns that wives can stall or even retard their husband’s growth if they focus on his weaknesses instead of his strengths. She suggests that women have to be prepared to take risks in giving up their own career when there is no guaranteed outcome: they must become counsellors, advise their husbands from a position of knowledge in his career choices, support him while he re-trains. 

So, no, this has never been about Michelle Obama. Michelle Obama had an extremely successful career, put that on hold when it became a realistic possibility that her husband would actually become the President of the Entire United States, did actual work on his campaign, and then, when he became the President, decided that she would not be going back to work, which actually makes sense for many reasons, all of which are specific to her situation. You, on the other hand, need to quit your job, no matter what your boyfriend or husband is doing, no matter what his “weaknesses” may be, and “counsel” him in order to “make him the best man he can be” while he is, I don’t know, playing the musical saw in the subway – they are really not specific here! But since they are really only addressing the concerns of middle-to-upperclass couples, wherein your choices are to have an incredibly rewarding career in the field of your choice or spend more time at your summer home in the Hamptons, I imagine they don’t feel the need! – in the hopes that he will eventually make enough money to support you both, and make every conceivable sacrifice for him, up to and including letting him kill you and eat your corpse if you run out of money for food. 
Just so long as you don’t get a job. Because that would be selfish. 

The Pernicious Effect of Bobby Jindal Upon the State of Louisiana: A Photo Essay

FASCISTS.

[New Orleans, February 2009]
[Via Elizabeth.]

George F. Will Disapproves of What You Put in Your Mouth. And Has Suggestions!

Here is a quiz for you: can you find the glaring omission in George Will’s recent essay about shifting attitudes towards food and sex? HINT: it involves the sexism!

Imagine… a 30-year-old Betty in 1958, and her 30-year-old granddaughter Jennifer today. Betty’s kitchen is replete with things — red meat, dairy products, refined sugars, etc. — that nutritionists now instruct us to minimize. She serves meat from her freezer, accompanied by this and that from jars. If she serves anything “fresh,” it would be a potato. If she thinks about food, she thinks only about what she enjoys, not what she, and everyone else, ought to eat.

Jennifer pays close attention to food, about which she has strong opinions. She eats neither red meat nor endangered fish, buys “organic” meat and produce, fresh fruits and vegetables, and has only ice in her freezer. These choices are, for her, matters of right and wrong. Regarding food, writes Eberstadt, Jennifer exemplifies Immanuel Kant’s Categorical Imperative: She acts according to rules she thinks are universally valid and should be universally embraced.

Yes, imagine two women who are both solely responsible for obtaining, preparing, and serving food for themselves and, in Betty’s case, “everyone else,” by which I am assuming George Will means Don and Sally and Bobby, because that is always fun. Now imagine that one of them is a big old whore!

Betty would be baffled by draping moral abstractions over food, a mere matter of personal taste. Regarding sex, however, she had her Categorical Imperative — the 1950s’ encompassing sexual ethic that proscribed almost all sex outside of marriage. Jennifer is a Whole Foods Woman, an apostle of thoroughly thought-out eating. She bristles with judgments — moral as well as nutritional — about eating, but she is essentially laissez-faire about sex.

Yes, my friends, imagine: imagine that preparing food, and ensuring the moral and sexual purity of the heterosexual pair bond, were both entirely women’s responsibility. Imagine that, in your grandmother’s day, women risked losing their sole commodity for negotiating financial and social security – that is, their virginity – should they engage in sexual intercourse, and that marriage, for women, was basically a contract granting them access to money should they grant one man sole sexual access (whereas non-monogamy, for men, was an admittedly roguish but pretty much expected move) and perform unpaid domestic labor, meaning that dudes got access to personally prepared meals, sex, and the social and institutional power that comes from having a professional life and the possibility of advancement therein, in exchange for basically letting a lady live in their house and maybe giving her some money for dresses if they could spare it. What a crazy mixed-up fantasy world that would be!

Now, imagine that women your age fucking wrecked it by maintaining their sexual autonomy and expecting men to cook for their own damn selves. These women, these Jennifers, probably have jobs, too. All sorts of things can happen when you don’t assume that a woman’s moral standing and her sexual inexperience are inextricably bound to one another! You could even become some sort of arugula-eating liberal who cares about things like “nutrition,” and “responsible food production,” and “whether or not it is OK to personally end a species because you think it is tasty.” It is terrifying, I know. I apologize for forcing you to contemplate this dark, dystopian vision.

Kant, my ass. This essay isn’t about food, or sex, or morality, in any real sense; if it were, Will would have actually mentioned dudes, who, as far as I can tell, all come equipped with both mouths and genitals. (That last might not be true of George Will, I admit; if nothing else, it would explain why he always looks so pinched and uncomfortable.) It is about gender, and the Good Old Days, and why things were better before women actually started doing things other than working to please their men. Right now, right this minute, George Will is saying, he could be in his spotless home eating steak and anticipating a furtive, guilty sexual encounter with his lawful wife, who has never seen nor touched another penis and therefore cannot judge his own. (SHOULD HE HAVE ONE.) This is a lovely fantasy, for George. It is also a fucking horror show for any woman forced to contemplate it. That’s why that way of life ended, and that is why, rail against Whole Foods as Will may, it’s never coming back.

[Via.]