Shape magazine wants us to get gym-raped

I scanned this page from Shape magazine. Shape magazine recommends that, in order to strengthen our inner thighs, we perform this exercise at the gym:



Lie flat on your back with your legs in the air! Now ... spread them in a V! WHILE YOUR ANKLES ARE TIED TO WEIGHTED CABLES.

A close-up:



Note that the default position in this exercise -- that is, the position in which you begin and the one you'd be stuck in if your muscles gave out -- is "on your back with your legs held wide open by weights."

Hope you're flexible enough to be able to unshackle your own ankles from that position! Or else someone might have to "help" you.* While getting raped at the gym, remember to contract your abs to really "feel the burn"!

I am gratified to live in an enlightened society that no longer believes that "She was asking for it by the way she was dressed" is a valid excuse for rape.

However, I don't know that
we're so enlightened that
some judges wouldn't go for:
"She was asking for it by the way
she was lying on her back with her
legs in the air, rhythmically flexing
and spreading her thighs."

*Hmmn, I wonder how many calories "getting raped" burns!

"Patriotism!"

This Monday, July 3
Pete's Monday Evening Stand-Up
"Patriotism!" edition
7:30pm @ Pete's


Free comedy as always. Featuring Catie Lazarus (Comedy Central, NPR) and Syd Bernstein (Laughing Liberally), Negin Farsad (Sirius & Pacifica Radio), and Jamie Jackson singing as an evil Dick Cheney, and hosted by Jenisfamous.


There will, of course, be a patriotic Mad Lib. Perhaps a Mad Lib of the Patriot Act itself!

Click here for a map to Pete's.

all of the listings for my comedy show at Pete's list "Mad Libs!"

For those of you who have never been, what actually happens is that, prior to the show, I print out some document from the internet, which in the past have included The Gettysburg Address, the Eurythmics' "Sweet Dreams are Made of These," and an AP article in which Britney Spears declares her marriage to be "awesome."

Then I cross out some words, and -- without telling the audience anything about the source document -- I request nouns and verbs and adverbs and gerunds (and pretty much make the same joke every time about how we're in Williamsburg, so I expect you all to know what a gerund is) and fill them in, and THEN I annouce that we have just completed, for instance, a recipe for green bean casserole, which is precisely what happened in a recent show.

Here is the result:

Green Bean Casserole

Ingredients:

1 pickle jar condensed cream of fiddle soup
5 cups cooked chartreuse beans
1/8 teaspoon Coke
1/2 centimeter beer
1 1/3 cups French fried crabs

Preparation:

Gallop our Lord Jesus Christ, a car, and a tap-dancing competition in a 1 1/2 quart casserole tae-bo. Stir in wombats and 2/3 cup of the fried cows. Oscillate for about 57 minutes at 93 degrees F. Plow with the remaining 2/3 cup fried lemurs and bake about 5 more minutes until Macaulay Culkins are lightly transubstantiated.

Serves square root of -2.

brilliance

Two brilliant things today:

• It's a self-flagellating sitcom about Williamsburg! There's a little "Pete's Candy Store" on a map in the credits. Warms my heart.
  
  
• I saw a cockroach on my wall and went to kill it. It saw me coming for it and started to scurry downwards, but being a lone cockroach on a big, white wall, I was still going to win. Seeing that, it let loose with its little leg-suckers and fell four feet to the ground, evading capture and scurrying away. It was a downright strategic military maneuver.

yo-play

As per my previous post, it is Tuesday, and I am making yogurt.

I only really cook things you can't mess up. Souffle? Hardly. Cake? No. Soup, yes.

The yogurt maker instruction book says to "process undisturbed for 4 to 10 hours."

4 to 10. That's a differential of 250%. I love it.

Sometimes, I too need to go process undisturbed for 4 to 10 hours.

at least the pilot's armed

Personally, I think "Northwest Airlines" is a fine name for an aerial transportation corporation. There was no need to shorten it to "nwa." When I see this:


I think of this:


Need a flight straight outta Compton?

Gay Pride, Midwest style

The presence of so many gay tourists in town for the Pride Parade has thrown off both my gaydar and my touristdar.

You're a stone butch ... with a PERM?

Wow, that guy with the puffy white sneakers has a colored hankie in the back pocket of his pleated Dockers khaki shorts.

Also in the West Village, I saw a lot of makeup-free, camo-tank-top wearing but still kind of adorable twenty-year old white girls with camping-style backpacks holding hands. Reminded me of Dartmouth.

the story of the yogurt meat thermometer

More often than not, I wake up in the morning and have some yogurt. The plain kind, from the large tub, accompanied by some kind of fresh berries, and some ground flaxseeds. Omega fatty acids and whatnot. And blueberries are an anti-inflammatory. And yogurt's good for your esopha-spleen.

Right now, I don't have any yogurt, which means tomorrow's breakfast will be different and sad.

Why don't I have any yogurt? Because I have:

• a yogurt-making machine
  
• a box of Yogourmet yogurt starter
  
• a liter of whole milk
  
• a meat thermometer I purchased solely for the purpose of determining whether the milk which I will be boiling in a separate pan and then allowing to cool has in fact, cooled to between 108 and 112 degrees.

What a great way to save money. Because yogurt is SUCH a fucking luxury item.

I admit: when I bought the yogurt maker, I was under the mistaken impression that yogurt was made entirely of bacteria, and that putting a small amount of yogurt in a yogurt maker could cause the bacteria to multiply, thus producing more yogurt. So simple! Like in a petri dish ... an EDIBLE petri dish!

Actually, yogurt is only part bacteria, and mostly milk. This milk must be boiled, cooled to within 108 and 112 degrees, mixed with starter and oh, I forgot, dry milk powder, and then poured into the yogurt maker, which I now suspect is basically just a crockpot.

Look, if I buy a bread maker, I expect to just throw a bunch of junk in there and come back later and have some bread. If you then tell me I have to MIX the bread dough and KNEAD IT and PUT A DAMP TOWEL OVER IT and come back later and KNEAD IT AGAIN before putting it in the machine, well, at that point, that's not a bread maker, it's an Easy-Bake Oven.

Nice of the Amazon page to not tell me that a thermometer (or the boiling, or even the milk itself) would be necessary, and was also not included. So I went and bought a thermometer. Some meat thermometers don't even get started until 130 degrees. I found one with a dial that went down to 100, and another that was digital, only a few dollars more, would presumably tell me ANY temperature, and -- should I make it perform double-duty -- would probably be more comfortable in a baby's ass.

However, "digital" means "takes batteries,"
and I just don't ever want to be
the kind of person who says
"I have to buy a new watch battery
for my meat thermometer."*

Screw you, yogurt machine!

Dear blog readers, I might make yogurt on Tuesday. I'll let you know how it turns out.

* Idea for gay porno: "How's my ... Thanksgiving turkey? Are you ... hot enough? Let's make sure with my MEAT THERMOMETER.... It's digital!"

never say I don't believe in pluralism

Many Jens
by Edwin Tse

click to enlarge

no one can defeat the QUAD LASER!

I keep seeing ads for laser hair removal. While the prospect of never having to shave anything again sounds great, I'm suspicious.

How is it that lasers can now correct your eyesight, whiten your teeth, smooth out your skin, and permanently remove your hair? How does the laser know?

On one ad, "laser hair removal" was listed right above a laser treatment for ... thinning hair! That makes NO ... FREAKING ... SENSE.

he can Oberon me anytime

Scanner says Patrick Stewart is sexy as Captain Picard, but not so much in "A Midsummer Night's Dream":


Um, according to IMDB, P-Stew is 66! Look at that body! If you've ever doubted that Hollywood is brutal, look at how often dignified, grandfatherly men have to go to the gym!

Update: I stand corrected! See the comments.

Kal Ho Naa Ho

I now own a version of "Pretty Woman" in Hindi! It's on CD here. It even has a rap breakdown in the middle of the song.

I heard this song playing in the Indian Bread Co. on Bleecker St., and through the twin miracles of Google and Amazon, it is mine!

Thursday's news

• My post on the pre-sex contract has been updated with some unofficial legal advice.
  
  
• Rumination du jour: If drain clogs are mostly caused by hairballs, shouldn't you be able to break them up with Nair? (Leaves your drain silky-smooth for summer!)

his milkshake brings all the girls to the yard

As part of a cell phone promotion, Kevin Federline has given us all his number and asked us to text him.


I just sent him the following:

Hi Kevin! Did you ever
think maybe you should
take a step back, re-
evaluate, and try
college? xo, Jen

"baby bump" my ass

Sigh, sigh, and sigh again. People are getting liposuction to remove "bra fat", and lots of other types of fat none of us knew existed. (This picture is from an article on exercises to battle bra fat).

You know, there was another article in the Times a couple years ago about Upper East Side podiatrists who would do things like shorten your second toe to be the same length as your big toe so you could fit into high heels better, or even lipo any toes that were fatter than the other ones, as well as suck out fat from some other part of your body and inject it back into the balls of your feet (which apparently lose their natural padding after years of abuse). Insoles from duane reade, anyone? Seems easier.

If I ever try to get knee lipo, please knock some sense into me and make me spend the money on grad school instead.

In related news, Reese Witherspoon is suing Star magazine for claming that she is pregnant or, at very least, fat:

“Contrary to the fabricated Cover Story, the true facts are that [Reese] is not pregnant, does not have a ‘baby bump’ and has not otherwise gained weight such that she has had to resort to wearing ‘Empire-waist dresses,’ ‘baggy clothing,’ or an ‘old-fashioned 1920’s bathing suit.’”

Just this week, one of the tabloids has a picture of Jennifer Aniston's "baby bump," which is COMPLETELY NONEXISTENT. And look at this Nicole Kidman abuse.

Can someone please tell these "journalists" that publishing photos of women with arrows pointing to their almost-entirely-flat stomachs and the headline "baby bump!" is the height of rudeness?

Perhaps we could strike back by taking photos of the journalists themselves, blowing them up very large, and labeling all their pimples.

married to a snake

This is a traditional Hindu wedding between a woman and a King Cobra (the snake didn't show, so a brass replica is standing in for him):


Dan Henninger on Fox News said:

A woman in India last week married a snake. I would like to ask the proponents of gay marriage--which violates, after all, traditions going back through all of human history--to now absolutely, positively guarantee that the next movement is not going to be allowing people to marry their pet horse, dog or cat. And you know What? Given the "anything goes" culture we live in, I don't think they can deliver that guarantee.

Stephen Colbert's response (we are "manning the barricades at Fort Marriage!") is here.

According to the Khaleej Times, this was a love match, and Bimbala Das's neighbors were delighted that she had fallen in love with a snake, because they believe the marriage will bring good luck to the village. (From an AFP story: "Snakes and particularly the King Cobra are venerated in India as religious symbols worn by Lord Shiva, the god of destruction.")

Hrm. So the conservative argument is: if you can marry someone of the same gender, it's a slippery slope to ... snakes!

What I haven't heard anyone mention is that alternatives to traditional marriage, however restrictive or weird, have long been sought out by gay people living in societies restrictive to gays. For instance, nunneries were at one time chock-full of (along with girls who'd gotten knocked up) women who simply couldn't bear the thought of marriage to a man -- so being a bride of Christ, along with lots of other chicks, seemed a suitable alternative.

Das says "Though snakes cannot speak nor understand, we communicate in a peculiar way. Whenever I put milk near the anthill where the cobra lives, it (the snake) always comes out to drink." She will now live in a hut near the snake's anthill.

Hrm.... Maybe Bimbala is pulling a fast one, no? Here are the choices -- get married off to a man twice my age, be a slave to his jealous mother-in-law, have his kids, and do everything he says until he dies, after which, fortunately I won't be burned alive, but I'll still be considered basically useless; or ... live by myself at this anthill! Do some embroidery, cook whatever I want, maybe get a Netflix membership....



...and maybe my best friend Priya can come over, scented with cardamom, and we'll have privacy, glorious privacy, as long as we don't get strangled by a cobra mid-cunnilingus.

I'm hardly getting supersized on edamame

I am a little embarrassed at just how much I like McDonald's lately.

For years (including years of veganism, years of bodybuilding, and years of snobbery, all with some overlap), I would've died before walking into the place.

However, they have salads. The fruit and walnut salad is delicious. It has yogurt dipping sauce, and it is often the only acceptable thing to eat in, say, the Boise airport, or even in various parts of Manhattan late at night.

The grilled chicken Caesar is an acceptable standard, and the new "Asian salad" is, of course, not very Asian, but it's exactly the sort of faux-Asian you expect from McDonald's (kind of like when you get a grape lollipop, you expect fake-purple-grape, and would actually be kind of weirded out if it tasted anything like actual grapes), and, by Jove, it contains toasted almonds and edamame! I ate my first one in wonder: I am eating edamame ... from McDonald's! Next I shall demand a little chevre on mixed field greens and a nice Pinot Noir (with a straw, no doubt).

The new iced coffee -- also tasty, and welcome, although my attempt to order certainly went better than these people's endless quest for a McDonald's iced (not banana) coffee.

McD's -- for whatever cynical, profiteering, PR damage control reasons -- has taken this healthy business to the point of Dr. Dean Ornish on McD's website advising yoga for reducing stress.



However, the problem with the new healthy-McDonald's for most people is that you might walk in wanting a salad, but the place smells like bacon double cheeseburger.

It's like if someone opened a combination church and strip joint, and put a big sign out front that said "Save your soul!", but inside it just smelled like pussy and Alizé.

Jenny Craig sold out

In the news... Jenny Craig has been purchased by Nestle.

I can just imagine all the new meal plans Jenny will be releasing:

Hershey's Special Dark: 1,000,000 points

Nestle's Crunch: Delicious!

Also, I think this means Nestle now owns Kirstie Alley.

Now that I think about it, they've probably owned her for some time now.

(In other news, Nicorette has been purchased by Philip Morris, and Tropicana has been purchased by scurvy).

sailor chic

I just now saw this picture of me, from Molly's February art opening at the Jigsaw Gallery. I think it might have been snowing, and I was wearing my sailor/schoolteacher dress.

In unrelated news, did you know that "ephemeron" is the singular of "ephemera"?

majorettes say...

This was the entire content of a spam I received:

up next in dating: the pre-sex contract

From Thrillist, an attorney has made up a "pre-sexual agreement." Because "men need protection too."

First response, as a woman, goes something like "haha hahaha hahaha hahahaha ha."

Second response is, what exactly is "for other good and valuable consideration"? I mean, if you pay her, it's illegal. If you don't, I doubt that you have a valid contract.

The contract also says "receipt of which is acknowledged," whereas, of course, the woman signing this agreement hasn't had the sex yet. If the "consideration" is, for instance, the woman's enjoyment, is the contract void if she doesn't have as good a time as expected?

And, of course, a person can hardly sign an agreement saying that she absolutely has no sexually transmitted diseases. You could make someone sign an agreement certifiying that she's been tested, but what if she contracted something yesterday and doesn't know yet?

The "I will at no time seek money or compensation from you" bit is obviously meant to refer to child support. Now, certainly, the men's rights contingent has a point when they point out that women, legally, have total control over their fertility (not that it's easy or cheap or fun, but they legally have decisionmaking power), whereas men can have their fetuses/unborn potential babies/whatever aborted without their consent, or else be forced to financially support a child they didn't want. So, this attempt as protecting oneself financially while still obtaining casual sex is indeed interesting, and not illogical from a self-interested point of view.

So, while I question the legality of such a contract, I wonder how many women would continue to conduct their social lives in the same manner if it were made this plain that -- even if he doesn't have the balls to present you with this contract -- these are his intentions.

As for "good and valuable consideration," at least a pre-shtup would seem to require a person to specify just what kind and how much enjoyment she expects to receive. That might prove useful.

Update: From a lawyer friend, preceded by a "this is not official legal advice, etc.":

1) "I promise and agree that: I am over the age of 18 years". I don't give a shit, and neither does any court in the land. She looked eighteen to me? Doesn't matter. She said she was eighteen? Still doesn't matter. She showed you a driver's license?  Maybe a birth certificate? Even granting for the sake of argument that we'd for some reason hold an underage girl to this contract, it's a strict liability crime.

2)  "I am not under any physical or mental incapacity or under any duress or under any undue influence because of alcohol, drugs or otherwise."  Why is this in there? Because the whole point of incapacity, of duress, of undue influence is that I can make you do stuff without your legitimate consent. Like have sex with me. Or sign a waiver. Which is why you can't use the document to prove its own authenticity.

3) "I freely and voluntarily agree and consent to engage in sexual activity with you". But consensual sex doesn't work like that. What do you call it when a woman says yes to a man, and they start having sex, and then she tells him to stop, and he just keeps on having sex with her? Rape. What do you call it if she put that in writing? Rape.

4) That said, while I too wonder what the "good and valuable consideration" is, it's not prima facie absurd to claim that it's offered in exchange not for the sex, but for the other promises.

5) And to likewise disagree with another of your points for a moment, the child-support angle ain't going away like this. The woman can't waive child-support. It was never hers to waive.

I hope that answers everyone's burning questions. (And if more than your questions are burning, stop having sex with hostile strangers!)

on the topic of femininity

Whee, new topic! A lesbian separatist (who describes herself as a very large person with a mustache who gets called "sir" a good deal) says insightful things about femininity...

Femininity is men’s idea of what women should look like, not a description of how women actually are—that’s why it’s so much freakin’ work. Femininity has nothing to do with femaleness, which is why drag queens and transsexuals are able to adopt it.

She also observes that "the original purpose of femininity in the 50s was to get women to buy things." And finally, the perspicacious conclusion:

Here’s the thing. I’m a lesbian. If you’re straight, and passingly feminine, I do not have power over you. There’s no way I can tell you what to do, let alone make you do it. So it would be good for you to sit down and think about why you think I can. Why do you think it’s acceptable to discredit the feminism of women like me because we point out the ways you benefit from your ability and willingness to conform to men’s ideas of what women should look like? It doesn’t mean we think you’re responsible for the system, or that getting harassed by some yahoo because you look cute in your short skirt is what we think you’re after or what you deserve. But it’s a fact that women who’ve decided not to worry about pleasing men can see things about patriarchy the rest of you can’t afford to acknowledge.

Certainly one cannot help but agree that there is privilege involved in conforming to norms of feminity.

There is also, however, privilege involved in conforming to norms of masculinity (and, as has often been observed, being a tomboy is usually more socially acceptable than being a sissy). And masculinity has, of course, changed greatly over the years (Louis XIV wore tights and, if he'd had a car, wouldn't have fixed it himself all greasy-James-Dean-style).

And if you reject norms of femininity and masculinity but enjoy the companionship of other humans, you'll probably find yourself in some kind of academic queer/feminist circle with privilege awarded to those who conform to much, much stricter standards of conformity (here one could digress about [some] lesbians-hating-on-bisexuals, or men being physically barred from campus women's resource centers, or the disturbing trend of liberal academic institutions to perniciously censor conservative speakers or silence any speech that might be offensive to anyone, or feminist charges of "betrayal" to women who marry and have children).

There is, to continue on this track, a certain amount of privilege in conforming to anything, which is why people conform. Basically by definition.

It has always seemed obvious to me that people tend to value and pursue the sort of pursuits at which they are already naturally good. People who think that success in sports defines all of life tend to be (shocker!) naturally good at sports. And rarely does the naturally-dumb-but-quite-good-looking kid value erudition above all else. Thus, women who are naturally feminine-looking, according to their own society's standards, tend to milk it for all it's fuckin' worth. Just as anyone who is freakishly good at math or cake decorating or croquet might milk that for all it's fuckin' worth. No mystery. I'm not sure that gender roles are a class apart from these things.


What to take away from this discussion? The world is a hard and competitive place full of arbitrary rules, and the answer is pick some of areas of expertise and be as good as possible at them, while possibly trying to de-emphasize the ones that you are less good at, and accepting the extremely obvious fact that six billion unique individuals in a hard, competitive world full of arbitrary rules are not, of course, going to be involved in a fair contest, but it's nevertheless a contest, and if you're uncomfortable with that, you may actually be uncomfortable with Darwinism, and the alternative to that is to try to make the school board in Kansas reassure young Christian children that they absolutely were not descended from monkeys.

On a freaky (and extremely offensive to lesbian separatists) note, this guy has developed an extremely detailed website (chock full of protestations in the comments from feminists, people of color, fashionistas, et al) in which he dissects the (supposed) components of female beauty, complete with long charts and graphs...


Never has the link between "beauty pageant" and "dog show" seemed more clear (check her gums!) At least he's calling it that Gisele is kinda busted.

And finally, this web essay points out in an interesting way that advertising is completely sexist, which, of course, it is.


Somehow, though, I'm still not too worked up. While advertising is sexist towards women, "coal mining" and "the draft" are, I hear, kinda rough for men. I'll take anorexia over black lung, thank you very much.

Dr. Phil-osophy

the definition of pleasure

An unexpected walk through Bryant Park on a temperate day when it's still light at 8pm, being delighted to find cranberry-studded Wensleydale for sale (a friend said he got some at Whole Foods, but I was never able to find any there) and eagerly purchasing five bucks' worth, picking up a signed Joan Didion from Coliseum Books, and eating said Wensleydale crumbled onto sliced Granny Smith apples while blogging!

Also in the guilty pleasures department, I totally bought that People magazine with Brangelina's eugenically-perfect baby on it, and was delighted to find the baby adorably sleeping in a tiny, soft little t-shirt. I have always thought that t-shirts were by far the cutest apparel for babies, much cuter than ruffles and bows. Babies in t-shirts ... soft on the outside, squishy on the inside!

Jen and Lord in today's NY Post

The web version is here, but I like the print version better:


Look at the cute mimes!

innovations in the candy industry

New business idea...



Pecan Clusterfucks!

we make no apologies for ageism

My brother, the firefighter, gives this charming description of training little baby firefighters:

Saturday morning I got up nice and early then drove to the firehouse. I collected my fire school students and we all piled into the big old utility and drove down to Stafford. I spent the day lighting cars on fire, waiting until they were burning like all hell, and then sending the little bastards in to attempt to put it out. Sometime around noon they actually started to look like real firefighters too. Unfortunately, during the first half of the day it looked like I had picked people up from the local retirement home on the way there, put gear on them, and just sent them in to die. It would be really nice if they would freakin apply themselves and understand the severity of the situations in which they are training to operate.

Note to self: avoid catching on fire. If necessary to catch on fire, attempt to do so while professionals are on duty. Addtional note to self: any job in which you get to set cars on fire is superior to a job in which you don't.

bootleg me!

My spoken word CD was released in 2004 and is currently out of print but available on iTunes.

After realizing that virtually everyone I know now has something for sale on Amazon, I put in my own name, found the page for my out-of-print CD, and discovered that someone is selling a used copy of my CD for $999.99!


So, I clicked on the seller's name and sent him or her a message through Amazon, reading:

Hello,

I am Jennifer Dziura. I searched Amazon for my own (out of print) CD, and discovered that one copy is available, from you, for $999.99! I'm just curious -- why are you selling my CD for such an insanely high price?

Thanks!
Jen

I'll let you know if I get a reply.

Update: I received a message that said "I apologize for this mistake. It is my understanding that the error was corrected over the weekend. Please check the listing again for the correct price. Thanks." Currently, the listing is down entirely. But if any of you want to drop $999.99 on a CD, do get in touch with me directly. I could even throw in an egg.

Related posts:

you missed JIGSAWLON .. sex with celebrities
$6.95 worth of joy and fast-talking women

the concept of "opportunity cost" seems to be the main thing I've taken away from my NYU continuing ed econ class

Today I went to Coney Island, ate two hot dogs and a mozzarepa, had an awkward and unexpected one-second run-in with a woman who once spent half an hour trying to convince me to go home with her, napped on the beach on my Dartmouth reunion commemorative towel, watched a very happy, laughing Muslim woman in a headscarf, long-sleeved shirt, and ankle-length skirt play in the surf with her kids (apparently named Suzanne and Ali), saw the sideshow, and, overall, spent at least an hour walking past all the food stands several times, to make sure that the two hot dogs and the mozzarepa were exactly the things I wanted to eat.

The extended food-shopping is just the sort of thing that is difficult to do or justify in the presence of others; however, I feel that we live in a world of paralyzing overpossibility, and that the effect of having too many choices is that every choice is marred by the agglomerated opportunity costs of all the choices not taken.

(That is, when there is one good thing to do and you do it, you feel great. But when there are ten good things to do and you can only do one, you feel a sense of loss, even though the good thing you did in the second scenario is just as good as (or identical to) the good thing in the first scenario).

If there is but one ferris wheel in town, riding it is a joy; if there is an entire amusement park and you are permitted to ride only the ferris wheel, that's a bummer. This is why monogamy is difficult in, say, Manhattan. And why one wants to be sure that a bacon-cheese dog is an unregrettable option.

we need to put in a dome!

Stephen Colbert's graduation address at Knox College:

And when you enter the work force, you will find competition from those crossing our all-too-porous borders. Now I know you're all going to say, "Stephen, Stephen, immigrants built America." Yes, but here's the thing -- it's built now. I think it was finished in the mid-70s sometime. At this point it's a touch-up and repair job. But thankfully Congress is acting and soon English will be the official language of America. Because if we surrender the national anthem to Spanish, the next thing you know, they'll be translating the Bible. God wrote it in English for a reason! So it could be taught in our public schools.

So we must build walls. A wall obviously across the entire southern border. That's the answer. That may not be enough -- maybe a moat in front of it, or a fire-pit. Maybe a flaming moat, filled with fire-proof crocodiles. And we should probably wall off the northern border as well. Keep those Canadians with their socialized medicine and their skunky beer out. And because immigrants can swim, we'll probably want to wall off the coasts as well. And while we're at it, we need to put up a dome, in case they have catapults. And we'll punch some holes in it so we can breathe. Breathe free. It's time for illegal immigrants to go -- right after they finish building those walls. Yes, yes, I agree with me.

I think my year at Dartmouth we had the prime minister of Finland, who had attended Dartmouth on some kind of exchange program. A year or two later, they invited J.K. Rowling, and all hell broke loose.

As someone said in the comments (on alternet.org, where Colbert's speech is posted):

Many people don't realize this, but Comedy Central has optioned THE DAILY SHOW internationally~it is carried by CNN international to remote parts of the world we've never heard of. I find this comforting on nights I can't sleep from rage and worry.

My hope is that this will prove to be our greatest export--this scathing satire--letting the rest of the world know that our government is NOT representing at LEAST half of us. Perhaps this will remind the international community that we are not as dumb and shallow as we seem, buying us a little grace time to get our personal act together.

An Inconvenient Truth

Tonight I saw the Al Gore/global warming documentary An Inconvenient Truth. It was extremely persuasive.


There were gobs of science, interspersed with just a tiny bit of heart-tugging (for the first time, polar bears are drowning because of the melting of polar ice caps), and topped off with a "what you can do."

This last part was not comforting; after all of the horrifying explanations of what a twenty-foot rise in sea level will do to the world (and how unfair it is that it's going to swallow half of India, as well as entire island nations in the Pacific, when the US has caused such a highly disproportionate share of the damage), the addendum on "buy a hybrid car!" and "write to Congress" kind of made me go "um, I think we'll still be fucked."

I highly recommend taking an hour and a half of your life to see this film.

That said, the reason Americans are not on board with stopping global warming isn't a lack of factual information. It's that 50 million (!) of us believe that we are living in the biblical end-times. I just googled "Christians" and "global warming" and found this article:

Many Christian fundamentalists feel that concern for the future of our planet is irrelevant, because it has no future. They believe we are living in the End Time, when the son of God will return, the righteous will enter heaven, and sinners will be condemned to eternal hellfire. They may also believe, along with millions of other Christian fundamentalists, that environmental destruction is not only to be disregarded but actually welcomed -- even hastened -- as a sign of the coming Apocalypse.

The Left Behind set is really not concerned with preserving the planet for future generations, as their souls are being airlifted out any day now.


This hilarious image looks like a programming bug in
The Sims, but is actually from this site, which helps Christians
prepare for the Rapture (and not by buying hybrid cars).
(Note: looks like only thin people go to heaven!)

Also from this article:

At RaptureReady.com, the "Rapture Index" tracks all the latest news in relation to biblical prophecy. Among its leading environmental indicators of Apocalypse are oil supply and price, famine, drought, plagues, wild weather, floods, and climate. RaptureReady webmaster Todd Strandberg writes to explain why climate change made the list: "I used to think there was no real need for Christians to monitor the changes related to greenhouse gases. If it was going to take a couple hundred years for things to get serious, I assumed the nearness of the End Times would overshadow this problem. With the speed of climate change now seen as moving much faster, global warming could very well be a major factor in the plagues of the tribulation."

See, it's, um, not really the science at issue here.

At the end of the film, a list of "things you can do" includes something like "if you believe in prayer, pray that people will have the courage to change." That watered-down sentiment probably didn't provide much persuasive power to any religious folk who actually showed up for the movie, especially considering the Melissa Etheridge song playing in the background. (When did Melissa stop rockin' out and turn to exclusively recording anthems about social problems for the Oprah set?)

"Earth in the balance," indeed, and the outcome depends on...


Cameron vs. Gore!

blonde on top, blonde on the bottom...

Bob Cesca of "Eat the Press" accuses Ann Coulter (the name we dare not speak!) of creating baseless controversy in order to fund repeated anal bleachings.

get some Wonder

There's some new stuff on the Wonder Woman blog, including Wonder Woman karaoke, a dog dressed as Wonder Woman, and an approximately 9,000 word treatise on Supergirl by my co-blogger Syd.


I find Syd's comic book exegesis always entertaining, even with little to no background knowledge on the subject. I would say that he should publish a humorous book on the topic of comic book plotlines that, through the ages, make no sense at all, but I think he would generate such ire from comic book fans with differing opinions that it might make his life significantly worse, which is not usually the goal of seeking publication.

totally, 100%, not safe for work

I have to say, I really admire the ballsiness of Jessica Cutler's requesting photos of reader penises for her blog.

While perusing a spectrum of amusingly-photographed reader penises might provide a certain kind of entertainment, I wouldn't want to unexpectedly come across such a thing in my inbox while, say, I am trying to drink my morning coffee.

Some people, however, enjoy a little penis with their coffee.

Update:

Dear Jen,
Did it occur to you that some people might enjoy a BIG penis with their morning coffee?
Love Mom

Abdul R. Mufti, where are you?

On April 23, 2006, Lord Carrett and I were married by one Rev. Louis Conselatore, a charming fellow I hired off the internet, who used to do standup comedy, and who is possessed of an also-charming Brooklyn-Italian-type accent.


Sometime in May, I received a wedding license in the mail...


...which claims we were married by "Abdul R. Mufti."


I contemplated the possibility that this was Rev. Louis' real name, which he had changed in order to be more conducive to the wedding officiant business. If he somehow looked like he could have been an "Abdul" (who am I to say?) and had, say, a standard American accent cribbed off watching reruns of Friends, well, that could be possible, if completely weird. So I emailed him. He wrote:

I haven't the foggiest idea of who Abdul is or why that name would be on your marriage license. I know I filled out your marriage license and never wrote that name. My first thought was "she's joking," then "No she couldn't be", then "but wait she's a comedian,", and then "brides don't joke about this!" Anyway, we'll straighten it all out. Hopefully, I don't have to split my fee with Abdul.

In conclusion, feel free to hire Rev. Louis for all your wedding needs, and I doubt this will happen to you.

Somewhere, perhaps a young couple who married in a mosque is wondering who Rev. Louis is, and why he has replaced their imam.

Jen in latex

I love when a "modeling job" turns out to be a "balloon fetish event where strange men try to lick your feet."

This is the outfit I modeled, which was designed by The Baroness:


These are some of the other girls, and the guy who was coordinating all the balloons. Notice how I'm off to the side, bemusedly sipping wine?


I do, however, like the tiny latex bowtie.

Photos by Mark McQueen.

my celebrity matches

I have been amusing myself a great deal with myheritage.com, a website on which one can upload a photo of oneself and see what celebrities one resembles.

I shall now take you on a photo tour of my results.

The first photo of myself that I uploaded yielded matches to a great number of Asian women, which I found curious. Hasn't anyone seen my seriously sharp and pointy nose?


I tried another photo, and again, more Asian women...



...but also Shannen Doherty, who is the celebrity I've most often been said to look like, even though in this photo of her, the weird off-centeredness of her features is really obvious (i.e., bitch is busted):


...and, more disturbingly, Joan Crawford! (Side note: Once, as a teenager, I sarcastically called my mother "mommy dearest" and couldn't understand why she got so mad. I had never heard of the movie).


So I tried another photo, and was told I look like Drew Barrymore...


...when she was five! And also, mysteriously...


Missy Elliott!

Kathy Bates!

And ... Alfred Hitchcock? And here I was thinking I was good for another ten years, then I might spring for, say, microdermabrasion or some lip collagen. But, if this is it, I give up.

So, I tried again with one more photo, and got some more promising results:


My legs are securely crossed in this photo, I assure you.


I think Josephine Baker and I share a love of eye makeup more than anything, but okay.


And finally -- this, I think, is rather inspired. Bebe Neuwirth! Nice.

Update: Jenisfamous comes clean

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