October 2005 – Page 2

So Bad

You are a Theory Slut. The true elite of the
postmodernists, you collect avant-garde
Indonesian hiphop compilations and eat journal
articles for breakfast. You positively live
for theory. It really doesn’t matter what
kind, as long as the words are big and the
paragraph breaks few and far between.

What kind of postmodernist are you!?
brought to you by Quizilla

via Rana, the revisionist historian

Friday Random Ten, 2nd Ed.

Yesterday night at the law school fall ball, not one, not two, but three different people I had never met came up to me and said that they read Feministe and recognized me from it. I was pretty excited, and felt famous for about five seconds. So, welcome law school readers! Feel free to de-lurk and leave a comment any time…

Now, onto the Random 10.

1. Michael Jackson – PYT
2. Timbaland and Magoo – Up Jumps Da Boogie
3. PJ Harvey – To Bring You My Love
4. Maxwell – Fortunate
5. Loretta Lynn – Portland, Oregon
6. Counting Crows – Holiday in Spain
7. Gypsy Kings – Volare
8. Miles Davis & John Coltrane – Crazeology
9. Ani Difranco – Not a Pretty Girl
10. Bill Evans Trio – Jade Visions (take 2)

Bonus: Friday random really funny thing (check out the title)

Only Whores Orgasm

Mike Adams let us know that if us ladies have the audacity to orgasm, or worse, talk about sex outside of the bedroom (missionary only, by the way), you are a harlot. Harlot!

Guess whose fault this is. One guess.

In honor of Adams, I feel compelled to share a limerick from an old Kinsey institute book given to me by Ryan and Becky when we met last week.

Of crotches, they say, there’s variety.
It’s a shame that our modern society
Thinks it’s vulgar and lewd
To show them off nude.
To hell with all prudes and propriety!

That one’s for you, Mikey. Dirty limericks dedicated to Mr. Adams appreciated in the comments below.

UPDATE: Excuse me, that would be Dr. Adams. Yeah, I know. Tenured too.

Being Monroe

Way back when, when I was in therapy bitching to my therapist about my body issues, she explained that the only reason I was picking on myself was that I was, at the time, depressed. “No, I’m fat,” I told her, feeling petulant. She explained that most people have one deep-seated but shallow criticism of themselves that defies all logic, and like an office assistant pulls a file, we pull the file and pore over it when we’re feeling down with no reason at all. Thus instead of thinking “I just feel like crap today,” I would abuse myself by calling myself fat, thereby extending and strengthening the link between my depression and body image.

It doesn’t help that mainstream culture further pushes their market creations on our insecurities, making otherwise intelligent women buy and do ridiculous things. At times one almost feels guilty for rejecting all this beauty nonsense outright, as though one is betraying a duty one has to simple social standards. I too am guilty of buying crap like hair removal lotions that left me with a rash, miracle makeup off an infomercial, and ass cream that left me slick enough to oops! slip out of my jeans on accident and be arrested for public exposure on a city bus (long story). After my pregnancy I was so disgusted with what I saw in the mirror that I embarked on an exercise campaign that left me looking like a sinewy bag of bones. I spent three hours a day at the gym and when offered a meal, glibly said, “No thanks, I’m trying to quit.”

I wasn’t kidding.

Friday Random Ten – The Numbers Edition

If it’s Friday somewhere, it’s time for the Friday Random Ten. Load up your mp3s, even the embarassing ones, set to random and list the first ten it spits out. Blog yours or leave them in the comments below. Go!

5076. Pere Ubu – Humor Me
2332. The Breakaways – That’s How It Goes
1506. Nina Simone – Wild Is A Wind
3849. Firewater – Fell Off the Face of the Earth
5026. The Luniz – I Got 5 On It
2860. Al Green – I’m Glad You’re Mine
4285. The Stooges – Search and Destroy
4866. Nancy Sinatra – You Only Live Twice
880. Too Short – I’m a Player
2111. The Mekons – Last Dance

Bonus Track: #3081 Bel Biv Devoe – Poison

***

As a special bonus, this conversation happened on Wednesday right as the last bell was about to ring:
Student 1: I have a song in my head!
Student 2: What song?
Student 1: Mike Jones. (hums a bit and turns to me) Ms. B, do you ever listen to rap?
Student 2: Look at her. She doesn’t listen to rap.

If you had been there, you might have heard me gasp.

Me (indignantly): I listen to rap, but not crap like Mike Jones.

And now that I look at this week’s FRT, I realize that while I may not listen to Mike Jones, I listen to my own brand of crap that deserves its own pathetic category. On the other hand, it can get worse than Too Short.

Write Your Own Caption

Panel 1:

Panel 2 (Best viewed large):

Panel 3:

And All This Time I Thought I Was An Atheist

You fit in with:
Humanism

Your ideals mostly resemble that of a Humanist. Although you do not have a lot of faith, you are devoted to making this world better, in the short time that you have to live. Humanists do not generally believe in an afterlife, and therefore, are committed to making the world a better place for themselves and future generations.

20% scientific.
40% reason-oriented.

Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com

Thank teh internets for setting me straight!

via Professorial Confessions

Difference between North and South Sides
— ——————

Thomas Condon

October 14, 2005

Chicago — Can everyone please stop all this nonsense about the White Sox being cursed? Lately pundits and sports writers have been trying to conjure up some kind of curse to explain the White Sox not winning the World Series for 88 years.

Get this straight once and for all: There is no White Sox curse.

I think all this curse nonsense started because so many sports writers are so accustomed to writing about the Cubs and their problems with curses, and misbehaving fans, and anything else they can blame their bumbling performance on.

On the North Side, it has always been “boo-hoo, that mean billy goat won’t let us win the World Series . . . it’s not our fault, we’re cursed . . . wahhhhhh!”

What a bunch of babies.

On the South Side, we don’t need to hide behind a curse. We take our lumps, make no excuses, claim no curses and show up and root for our team, win or lose.

This is an essential part of the difference between the North Side and the South Side. The North Side is home to the more “tender” Chicagoans, those latte-swilling, status-car-driving dandies who think that Lincoln Park is a tough neighborhood. Many are just enjoying their “urban experience” for a few years before moving back to Schaumburg and buying the inevitable minivan.

The South Side is where the real meat of Chicago resides. These are the people and neighborhoods who built America with steel mills, won World War II with manufacturing and continue to supply the real muscle for Chicago’s economic engine.

And we aren’t moving to Schaumburg. Ever.

The South Side has always been tougher, and always comes out on top. Want an example? Remember what happened on St. Valentine’s Day in 1929? That was a little dispute between Al Capone’s South Siders and Bugs Moran’s North Side gang. Guess who won? That’s right, the South Side.

So take that curse baloney and stuff it. We’ve been here through all the tough times, and stood by the White Sox without whining about a curse. So what if we haven’t won the World Series in a long time–you got a problem with that?

Month: October 2005