These days everyone seems to be caught up in the Obama Peace Prize hullabaloo: He's only been in office for 9 months! How do we know he deserves it? What if he surges the troops in Afghanistan? Personally, I couldn't care less. By now, the Nobel Peace Prize is right up there with the Grammys in the respectability category (or lack thereof), and the prize has a history of rewarding American Imperialism. The original war-mongering president Teddy Roosevelt won one, for Pete's sake. In the irony category, the prize in economics often seems to follow suit, so my jaded trust in the Scandinavian art of prize-giving was pleasantly proven wrong today when I read that Elinor Ostrom became the first woman ever to win the Nobel Prize in Economics.
This prize is exciting partly because Ms. Ostrom is the first woman to win it, but not just because of that. Her winning this prize will hopefully help to highlight women's voices in a field that is desperate for them, and the noble work this Nobel is rewarding will hopefully change the way we think about economics in general.
In my ongoing attempt to bring you amazing tattoos on queers and/or women--and the often even more amazing stories behind them--I have a treat for you this post. From the vault of a project I'm doing archiving the tattoo stories of people I like, I am happy to introduce you to Arwen--a fantastic artist, a beautiful writer, and an old friend.
The New York Times and BBC report that eight women-only trains were recently introduced in urban Indian cities. Some may question this form of sex-segretation as a sign of progress, but to female riders, these trains are a space where they can feel free. Humor me while my mind meanders.
So: I went to the zoo today. I thought it would be nice! I live in New York City! It is hard to see animals bigger than squirrels or lap dogs out here, so I imagined it would be very fulfilling and grounding, in some sort of hippie Earth Mother way, to actually see some of those and remind myself that I do not live on a planet entirely composed of Pinkberry outlets. But here's the thing: zoos, if you are not seven years old, are very depressing. There's nothing nice about captivity. Even if you wouldn't wish to see some of these animals out and wandering around in your neighborhood - even if they are dangerous or gross or otherwise undesirable - there's something deeply sad and wrong about seeing them stuck behind glass walls, with nothing to do, just waiting for someone to come by and look at them.
It was under these circumstances, then, that I began to think about Miley Cyrus deleting her Twitter.
A while back when a girlfriend and I were walking by a billboard for
the Vivica Fox-hosted reality show, "The Cougar." I made some snarky
comment about this not exactly being the equality feminists dream of, and the friend gave me a cheeky grin and said, "You know, that
older woman is only 39."
That's less than five years away, folks. Apparently I don't have long
before I go from flirty thirty-something sexual adventurer to predatory
over-the-hill sexual adventurer, at least in the eyes of TV producers.
I should probably call ahead to see if they can line up some callow
youths for me. But the problem is, I'm not particularly attracted to
young men. In fact, I already know I would just plain suck at being a
I have three little brothers who range in age from 23-18. The little
brothers have friends. More than once, the friends have hit on me, and
some of these guys were--objectively speaking--pretty hot. But while a
college athlete's body is a thing of beauty, I wasn't all that tempted.
First of all, I knew that even just a fun roll in the hay would condemn
my brothers to years of "Yo, Sharper, I fucked your sister!" I couldn't
do that to them. Second of all, as I recall from my own experience,
college guys are fairly lousy in the sack. Energetic and enthusiastic
maybe, but their technique usually needs a lot of refining.
Granted, there are some women who like that. Madonna, when asked about
her predilection for very young men, once said: "They don't know what
they're doing, but they can do it all night long." Yikes.
Here's how I spent mine:
- Being disappointed upon discovering it wasn't Pro-Cupcake Life Day
- Eating leftover cupcakes from Bitch's clothing swap/supporting a woman's right to choose
- WONDERING WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE
Lend your ears to another episode of Bitch Popaganda! Listen in as Kjerstin, Jonanna, and Kelsey discuss the recent sexual transgressions in pop culture, both scripted and not. David Letterman had sex with his employees! Roman Polanski is a rapist! So are Californication'sCharlie Runkle and Mad Men'sPete Campbell!
Ladies, gentlemen: it is time to discuss the pernicious influence of Taylor Swift on our society today.
Oh, I know. I've heard all the pro-Taylor propaganda - about how she's a "good role model," and an antidote to your Lohans or your Hiltons or your Gagas or whatever other female celebrities are being held up as examples of Moral Decay this week. Taylor is so SWEET. Taylor is so CUTE. Did you SEE that video where Taylor was insanely obsessed with that one boy but could not possibly be with him because she had GLASSES? Unlike that slutty mean POPULAR girl, who had the temerity to date a dude and disagree with him at times and be more socially adept than Video-Taylor! Clearly, Taylor speaks for us all!