Friday evening roundup

Intolerance is not a victimless crime. See: Uganda.

Nostalgia for the good old days when snarky soundbites were backed by substance.

What can be said about culture?

I apologize for neither acknowledging, nor even realizing, the racial aspect of the Gabby Douglas hair debate when I blogged about it yesterday. It was an oversight, since it's an important element. But here's my question: as a white woman, am I still in a position to blog about how inane it is?

I'm not an authority on hair, much less black hair, so the above oversight doesn't undermine my credibility (if you're asking yourself, "what credibility," just roll with it for a minute). You've heard me question the credibility of writers who make incomprehensively ignorant statements (for example, Jennifer LaRue Huget advising her readers to ensure that half of their six servings of grains are refined). Well, Organic Gardening just joined the lost credibility crowd: they're advising their readers to make their hot dogs healthier by--wait for it--ditching the bun. Because that's the unhealthy thing about hot dogs. In later slides (slides, plural--not just one), they go on to dismiss potatoes. That's right, people: slim down by eating hot dogs and shirking potatoes. That kind of diet is just the brain food you'll need to one day write for Organic Gardening.

Read more about the environmental impact of meat here (actually, the entire Oxfam report is quite good) and watch a video about it here:

Apparently, most tattoos are not vegan.

Remember my post the other day about people assuming judgment from other people? See these comments where people insist that the letter writer's issue with a guest's diapers in her trash are a judgment on the guest's use of disposable diapers. I was once horrified when a friend changed a diaper on my coffee table. I was speechless--all I could do was let it go, and besides, she's not a frequent visitor so it wasn't a recurring issue (though, unsurprisingly, the last time she did visit, her now older kids were obnoxious and ill-behaved)--but I couldn't believe she thought it was totally normal. And it had nothing to do with the nature of the diaper.

Amy also has some advice for managing an overbearing mother-in-law.

Miss Manners has a wonderful column in the paper, but it's not online yet. Hopefully I'll be able to post it in the next few days.

Thursday evening roundup and catty ramble

Zakaria on culture. In related news, Israel is hardly the only actor in that conflict who doesn't always help its own cause.

"Fetal pain" is not a scientifically sound concept.

Meet Puerto Rico's most offensive German.

Are all-women's business schools best?

Really? People are gonna hate on Gabby Douglas' hair? Also, has it come to this--the Post essentially asking, on its front page, whether the women's gymnastics team is smiley enough? Notice they don't ask that about the men.

I enjoyed Conan's Chaz-the-intolerant-chicken videos, but they're too much for even me to post here. In the meantime, enjoy Mike Drucker's tweet on the issue of the day. Also, Josh Ozersky has changed his mind. Maybe now that Hooters is getting an image makeover, he can go there for his chicken fix. No? Well, there's always the douche burger. Even if you eat in, read those supermarket labels carefully so you don't get a complimentary dose of antibiotics with your chicken.

The Onion's recap of the Indian power outage is funny because it's true.

We all need our space, especially when we travel, but there's no need to be discourteous.

Manolo is there for those of you trying to get your guy to replace those shabby mandals.

Gwyneth Paltrow might want to get a new publicist, because this isn't going to help her image.

So as not to leave you with a bad taste in your mouth, let's close with a celebrity who appears to be on the opposite end of the "out of touch" spectrum: Rashida Jones:

We’re going through a major evolution, and men haven’t had the same evolution. At some point we’re going to have to do something to bring them along. What are they doing? Get it together! We’re going to have an entire generation of smart, stable successful women go without men, because they’re just playing video games and dating younger girls.

 ***
That's a decent segue into my ramble. It may come off as catty, but I mean it to be uplifting. Here it goes:

A guy I used to work with once described another guy we worked with as “the kid you wanted to beat the crap out of in middle school.” This description was so apt—so apt that even the fact that this man was now an adult did not detract from its resonance—and that, years later, over drinks with a former colleague—I was already working elsewhere—I used the description because I couldn’t remember the guy’s name, and the former colleague instantly knew whom I was referring to.

I share this anecdote to demonstrate that though annoying may be a relative term, some people are more universally annoying. And other people who are not necessarily annoying themselves—perhaps it's because they are patient—consistently attract and retain annoying company. A friend of mine falls into this category. A colleague of her husband’s is so annoying that he alienated everyone in his office. So I'm not the only one to find him exceptionally irksome. He’s not unlike that guy I used to work with—the one you wanted to beat up—only that guy's wife is a perfectly annoying complement to her massively annoying husband, whereas Mr. Exceptionally Irksome’s wife is perfectly lovely. It pains me to watch her husband drive her crazy at the mutual friend’s gatherings. I asked Mutual Friend what Perfectly Lovely wife sees in her Exceptionally Irksome husband; her response, to some extent laden with her own experience, was: “sometimes the drive to have children is so strong that you blind yourself to things... but even PL is getting to the end of her rope with EI.”

So, Mutual Friend has another very annoying friend—so annoying that MF warns me when VAF’s going to be at her gatherings. MF acknowledges that VAF is annoying but shrugs it off, citing her high tolerance for annoying people (yet, honoring my substantially lower tolerance). VAF invokes Janice from “Friends,” or the queen of annoying, Fran Drescher, in whiny substance as much as in style. Imagine my double-take, then, when I read in a recent Smith Alum Quarterly that VAF was living with her “great boyfriend.” There really is a Jack for every Jill. I say this not out of spite—bless her, bless them both! I think it’s awesome; I say it to reiterate the very point I’ve been making for years: there really is someone for everyone.

Thursday morning roundup

In Belarus, a shakeup over teddy bears.

Anne Applebaum on the way Europe actually is.

India's blackout raises doubts about the country's readiness for prime time. Meanwhile, the U.S. power grid is aging and increasingly coming under strain.

The gaming community has a culture of sexual harassment to overcome.

"Irreplaceable" teachers fall through the cracks and end up leaving urban schools.

Bittman on what he would have asked, and said to, the lobbyists about meatless Mondays.

Collins on Texas politics.

Wednesday morning roundup

Oh, come on. You can't blame Kofi Annan for Syria.

Jewish voters are too sophisticated for single-issue pandering. Tom Friedman explains it brilliantly.

Don't over-medicate yourself (or your parents or grandparents). On that note--Kathleen Parker's op-ed is so shallow that I don't want to dignify it with a response--but when she talks about how "Obama’s regulations require people of faith to pay for products and services they find morally objectionable, such as abortion-inducing drugs, sterilization and birth control," I'd like to talk about how much I pay for products and services I find morally objectionable. We can even keep it to drugs. But I have to go to work.

If you were a Vogue writer, how would you describe countries?

Excerpts from Maeve Binchy's obituary, starting with a quote from one of her novels:

“Nora Johnson thought that men might regard travel as fast,” Ms. Binchy wrote. “Men preferred to marry safer, calmer women. Women who didn’t go gallivanting too much. It was only sensible to have advance information about men, Nora Johnson told her daughters. This way you could go armed into the struggle.”

 to quotes in interviews:

“Women who start out as ugly ducklings don’t become beautiful swans,” she said in 1998. “What they mainly become is confident ducks. They take charge of their lives.”

and

“Nobody is ordinary if you know where to look,” she told the Irish Voice newspaper in 2007. “We are all the heroes and heroines of our own lives. Our love stories are amazingly romantic, our losses and betrayals and disappointments are gigantic in our own minds.”

Stephen Colbert interviews Jeff Koons:

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Monday evening roundup and ramble

Emirati women have done well for themselves and their country.

Yes, exactly: we discussed the First Amendment thing with regard to the now-forgotten Tosh episode (and by the way, even rapists know it's not a joke). Anyway, this issue resurfaces over Chick-fil-A: the First Amendment guarantees your right to speak, but it doesn't protect you from the (non-violent) responses to what you say. And people do have a right to buy according to their values. Unfortunately, I doubt my vegetarian values would allow me to support The Heart Boys restaurant and their values of inclusion, but if they have any vegan sides, I'm there.

Lest you had any doubts, a survey confirms that few women dress for men. This is interesting because my impression is that many guys think that women dress for them. I've heard/read guys talk about how women take summer as an opportunity to show skin. Really, guys? I've had about a gazillion conversations at work over the last few weeks--prompted by complimenting women's dresses or being complimented on my dresses--about how we wear dresses because (1) they're easy--one outfit! and (2) it's too hot to wear pants. But really, why are we gonna dress (to show off) for men, when most of the men who appreciate a nice outfit aren't interested in what we've got, anyway? Crazy thing is--though not surprising in light of my last point--men do dress to impress women (see question #13).

Phone call

My parents and I talked this morning. We discussed what I would do today (mostly, see "Sweeney Todd") and established that they hadn't heard of it. Although they'd probably recognize the music, because I used to listen to the soundtrack all the time. Anyway, I got home to a message from my mom, about whether I ended up with two Magic Bullets.

A.: I have a bunch of plastic containers, one electrical units, and two blade-things. What are you missing?
Mom: Most of it.
A.: When did you notice you were missing it? Because you gave me mine at least four years ago.
Mom: So! I haven't used it since!
A.: No need to get defensive. I'm just trying to get to the bottom of this. I want to know whether you haven't used it in years, and so would have noticed part of it was gone.
Mom: Most of it's gone.
A.: Okay. Do you have the electrical unit? The part that plugs in?
Mom: I have very little.
A.: Do you have the electrical unit?
Mom: I don't know where it is.
A.: Could you answer the question, please!
Mom: I am answering the question!
A.: No, you're not. I don't want to send you mine if yours is just hiding somewhere. I don't have time.
Mom: Hmph!
A.: Just tell me what parts your missing.
Mom: I really need this now. I want to make a compress for the bee stings.
A.: Okay, but even if I go to the post office tomorrow morning, which I really don't have time to do, you still won't get it until mid-week, so it behooves you to try to find yours.
Mom: How was the performance?
A.: It was very good.
Mom: What did you see?
A.: "Sweeney Todd."
Mom: Huh, I haven't even heard of that.
A.: I think you know the music.
Mom: Anyway, you'll check.
A.: Yes, I'll check.

Sunday morning roundup

Drought threatens Indian crops, too.

Let's hope Joyce Banda succeeds.

France owns up to the Vel d'Hiv operation. A new book on (and called) The Second World War doesn't entertain pretenses of delicacy. As reviewer Gerard DeGroot puts it,

Good military history should stink of blood, feces and fear. Beevor’s book stinks. It reconstructs the great battles but weaves in hundreds of tiny instances of immense suffering.

As I'd noted in my travel notes, Czech Republic has come a long way. A Czech official reflects (in the context of what may lie ahead for Burma):

I remember when I returned to my homeland after 40 years of exile and traveled throughout the Czech country. I was appalled by the dilapidated buildings and devastated towns. Even the forests had been destroyed by acid rain. Havel, then our president, asked for a report from my trip. Upon listening to my findings, he told me: “You have been away for a long time. The buildings will be restored when their owners get them back. The forests will rejuvenate again when we get the cleaning filters for the power plants installed. The towns will rebound soon. But it will take a very long time to repair the damage to the souls of our people.”

Yes, yes, this story of  government bullying of Kafkaesque proportions is infuriating and, as George Will points out, makes us all a little libertarian. But examples of abuse are not arguments against reasonable regulation. Say, the kind that might have prevented a massive oil leak from threatening Lake Michigan.

Steve Pearlstein urges us to quit pinning the financial crisis (and every other crisis going back to the fall of the Roman Empire) on the repeal of Glass-Steagall. More from him on the topic of financial regulation here.

A new book on child-rearing begs parents to ease up on the pressure. What else isn't good for kids? A depressed, controlling parents who sees the world in black and white and doesn't care about the impact of her "biblical" lifestyle on her daughter.

For at least the third time in less than a year, I find myself reading "in defense of poor, overwhelmed parents" treatises that to me reflect how out of control our child-worship culture has become. No, I don't think the question of why there were small kids in Aurora is one of the more important questions to be asked about the shootings, but I'm also not sure why this rambling ranter is so defensive about it--so intolerant of people who would ask that question, among others. I'm not talking about 12-year-olds or even six-year-olds; I'm not here to question the judgment of parents in terms of what movies are right for their kids. I'm here to question the judgment of parents who bring infants to movies--any movies, not just violent ones, not just midnight showings--because it's just not fair to other movie goers. But what irks me more is the "logic" that new parents are so put upon that they're entitled to wreak havoc on society at large in any way they choose, and those of us who don't want to accommodate them at all times are being judgmental. It reminds me of that defense-of-the-pregnant-woman:

I am that mom. Cart full, aisles crowded, trying to remember if we need breadcrumbs or if I’m on snack duty this week while half-paying attention to my whiny and grabby girls.

I try to appease them with snacks fresh off the shelves and do my best to save the wrappers for checkout. Sometimes I grab a snack for me, too.

Plus, many of us who’ve been pregnant know those intense hunger pangs can come on fast and vicious. If food doesn’t come quick, than a fainting spell will.

Yeah, that's funny. I know a lot of women who have been pregnant (and also many who have gone shopping with kids). They say no to them instead of appeasing them, or they bring snacks instead of opening food they haven't yet paid for. It's called living in a society and not on a deserted island.

You know I'm the last to suggest that parents should stay home and deprive themselves of entertainment; all I'm saying is, don't make your outings everyone else's problem by bringing your kids. And if you can't make it work, write it off as one of the tradeoffs that comes with having kids.

DC is cooler than New York but less cool than Houston.

In spite of the glowing review, I'm on the fence about Craig Brown's new circles-of-name-dropping book.

Saturday evening roundup

A late-term aborter tells her story.


I think the bigger issue is that what's just an aspect of life for some people, for others is something that requires a label, and that label is "multiculturalism."

Along those lines, why are men's plays, plays, when women's plays are women's plays? Recall my recurring bitterness over Adam Gopnik's statement that JD Salinger evoked the universality of human experience. As Kathleen Chalfant says,

Even plays written by men that are “particularly masculine and talk about issues particular to men, are never called ‘men’s plays.’”

Some things make me wish I had a TV. This is not one of those things. Nor is fast food marketing to stoners.

Saturday morning roundup

If you're not careful, you can end up eating a $hit-ton of antibiotics, among other things.

The beef industry flexes its bully muscles over meatless Mondays.

What's wrong with small houses?

Quick Friday morning roundup

Strip clubs thrive on political conventions. This may or may not surprise you:

As further evidence of the clubs’ nonpartisan appeal, Don Kleinhans, the owner of the 2001 Odyssey, said when the Promise Keepers, a male evangelical group, came to town years ago, business was rollicking.

“We had phenomenal numbers all weekend, and they walked in wearing badges and name tags and weren’t shy at all,” he said.

Dave Brooks promotes duality.

Thursday evening roundup

Surveillance of dissidents in Russia is anything but subtle.

Did the Economist know what it was getting into with the last line of this article? The Guardian picks up where the Economist left off.

 The Post's beautiful story about a bike ride that puts the Aurora shootings in context.

Thursday morning roundup

Israel's challenge in handling a a large influx of refugees is understandable, but tribalism doesn't help the country rise to that challenge.

A retired policeman grasps for middle ground in gun laws.

Europe's gay rights laws vary, not in a way that's conducive to integration.

Rising temperatures are having an impact on the nation's infrastructure.

One woman describes her three-week experience without power (pun intended) as "classic Kafka with Stalinist overtones."

Jet fuel prices have fallen, but airline fuel surcharges have remained constant.

Retailers starting to do business in cities are learning to adapt to the needs of city shoppers.

How do you gain by foregoing dairy? Let Mark Bittman count the ways:

...[in] roughly 1,300 comments and e-mails... people outlined their experiences with dairy and health problems as varied as heartburn, migraines, irritable bowel syndrome, colitis, eczema, acne, hives, asthma (“When I gave up dairy, my asthma went away completely”), gall bladder issues, body aches, ear infections, colic, “seasonal allergies,” rhinitis, chronic sinus infections and more. (One writer mentioned an absence of canker sores after cutting dairy; I realized I hadn’t had a canker sore — which I’ve gotten an average of once a month my whole life — in four months. Something else to think about.)

Of course, it may not be the problem (see the further discussion about production methods, etc.), but you have nothing to lose except symptoms, weight, and carbon footprint.

Yesterday was the pony swim at Assateague. 

Wednesday evening roundup

I have no choice but to think slightly less of Baltasar Garzon.

The Onion on Syria's chemical weapons.

I'm certainly pro-immigrant and pro-foreign-language, but I have to empathize with the anecdote here:

In 2004, then-Maryland Comptroller William Donald Schaefer (D), a former mayor and governor, chastised immigrants who don’t speak English well after a Spanish-speaking cashier at a McDonald’s had trouble understanding his order.

“I don’t want to adjust to another language,” Schaefer said. “This is the United States. I think they ought to adjust to us.”

I agree. I don't spend a lot of time in fast food places, but I do occasionally call customer service--and this is more an outsourcing issue than an immigration issue--and when you're already at the point where you have to pick up the phone (i.e., your issue is too complex to resolve online), the last thing you need is to struggle to be understood. Look: my parents are not easy to understand, and I travel enough that I'm constantly depending on other people to understand me in my native language. I'm not suggesting that it's everyone's job to learn English; I'm merely saying that it's not a terrible thing to want to be easily understood.

In other linguistic matters, forensic linguistics is a fascinating thing. This made me think about how much we misunderstand each other in life, in general.

Some handy household tips. I know #8 may come in handy for those of you whose small child tends to fall off the bed ;).

I certainly won't disagree with much of Joanna Blythman's message, but I have to ask, who is she to draw the line for too cerebral? Why is " avoiding meat to save the planet" a bad thing? Where I do hear her is the obsession with ultimate nutrition at the expense of everything else. As you know, I'm all about food that tastes amazing that happens to be healthy. I could only roll my eyes when (1) mom asked me what was so healthy about whatever I was eating at a given moment; (2) RM asked me whether roasting food--as I was doing at the time--increased the nutritional value (actually, I shrugged and said probably not, but I liked the way it tasted); and (3) someone recently asked me the opposite, about how isn't food healthiest, raw? Well, maybe, but I personally like it cooked (most of the time), and I'm hardly malnourished. Not every food decision is driven by a complex nutritional calculation; in fact, none is. If you eat real, plant-based food, you don't have to sweat the details. Apart from the B12 supplements if it's not already added to other food you eat.

This morning I quickly linked to that delightful Post article about McDonald's in Russia. I think I told you that I had mixed feelings about the landmark McDonald's in Budapest: a symbol of the beginning of the end of the Soviet Union, yet also a symbol of everything wrong with the food system. Anyway, as Russia politicizes McDonald's, it's time to pick a side in the Chick Fil A battle.

You know by now that it's silly for most meat-eaters (i.e., any who don't subsist entirely on grass-fed, organic meat) to think vegetarians are the ones getting too much soy (we'll save the "is there such a thing" debate for another day), but here's Stephen Colbert's reminder that corn poses a similar paradox:

   tr>

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
U.S. Agriculture & Drought Disaster - Bruce Babcock
www.colbertnation.com
td>
Colbert Report Full Episodes Political Humor & Satire Blog Video Archive </td>

Quick Wednesday morning roundup

Russia's war on burgers.

Granderson and Bruni  (tangentially) on Christianity.

Carolyn's advice for nurturing without helicoptering.

Phone calls

Last week, I think, mom called and asked what was new. I told her about the last play I saw, my brunch with friends, and seeing a family friend whose birthday it was the weekend before. Mom said, "Oh. Well, you know, everything happens later in our family. It's genealogical." Upon processing, that statement translates to, "I meant, are you seeing anyone? I guess not. Well, that's okay. Your grandmother married late, and so did I." I would like to, but won't, spare you the reminder that I can't win with mom: if I respond to her "what's new" with "not much," I'm taken to task for being secretive and uninterested in conversing; if I talk about all the great things I'm doing with my life, I get an, "it's okay, you're still young."

So it continues. She probed again this weekend, not realizing that I'm not going to tell her about every date. Does she remember that she found out about F. only when she tried to set me up with someone else? At least dad cares about everything else that's going on, although I could do without either of them having me try to translate or spell the names of the plays I see.

Anyway, mom called yesterday, just as I was getting home from work. I wouldn't have minded--and listened to her carefully--but at the end of the conversation, she made a a snide comment about my minimal participation.This was especially rich because she didn't ask whether it was a good time for me to talk, just launched into her story. I put her on speaker and listened--and even responded appropriately. It's just that, as I listened, I proceeded to toss my apple core and tea bags into the compost, open the door, turn off the alarm, feed the cat, make dinner, and pack lunch for the following day. If it was mom's preference to have my undivided attention, she might have asked me whether it was a good time for me to talk; since she did not--since she launched straight into her monologue--I gave her as much attention as I could, while I proceeded to do what I needed to do.

She wrapped up her story--about how she got stung by a bunch of bees while doing yardwork--by expressing frustration about now having to worry about it. She's so often outdoors, so often out and about, in the woods or in the mountains; how could she possibly reconcile herself to having to get herself to an emergency room should she get stung? I reminded her that I'd been living with that very conundrum for over ten years now. I did not remind her that whenever I did remind her of my allergy to wasps, hornets, and bees, she generally lectured me about how bees and pollen are healthy and I should love them and make the most of the healthy chemicals that they injected into me. No, it did no good to point out that anaphylaxis wasn't just God hugging me respiratory organs tighter. Anyway, she ended the conversation unconvinced that my ten-year propensity to avoid bee/wasp/hornet stings was related to her new-found one, and apparently offended that I said too little while she told her story.

Tuesday morning roundup

Mexico's middle class is burgeoning but not quite stabilizing.

Drought threatens more than agriculture.

Device addiction has become so scary that even Silicon Valley is worried.

Jon Stewart reads from the bible:

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Monday evening roundup

Did the NCAA fall short by letting the games go on?

F*ing pancreatic cancer took Sally Ride.

Art-from-trash is awesome.

I've never been a fan of Chick-Fil-A (see this intellectual property BS), so it's vindicating to see their own hatred cost them business. Maybe the youngest Palin can help them make up for the business. That poor kid will probably be horrified when he grows up.

Monday morning roundup

Forced abortions are, a reality in China, are a terrible thing.

In a less nefarious effect of the one-child policy, fashion magazines have found an audience in China. Can you help me figure out the math here?

Lena Yang, general manager of Hearst Magazines China, who oversees nine publications including Elle and Marie Claire, says that the typical reader of Hearst Magazines in China is a 29.5-year-old woman who is more likely to be single than married. She has an average income of about $1,431 a month and spends $938 a season on luxury watches, $982 on handbags and shoes and $1,066 on clothes.

Here's the explanation:

Ms. Yang says these women often live at home and turn to their parents and grandparents to pay for them. The study also showed that many readers in their 20s saved little.

“Most of them, they are a single child,” Ms. Yang said. “That means they don’t have to pay for their rent. So all of that goes to pocket money. They have the parents support them and the grandparents. They actually have six persons to support them.”

But don't expect the magazines to use their in to address the weighty issues (like reproductive rights) plaguing the country:

“We’re pretty low-risk,” Mr. Edwards said. “Cosmo and Elle and magazines like this are not deemed to be highly likely to offend the relevant government bodies.”

The Post aptly characterizes Latin America's generation of "democratically elected authoritarians."

A dialogue about gun control is, apparently, too much to hope for.

So is an embrace of pollution limits from an industry that advertises and depends on pristine environments.

If you must break the law, at least put some clothes on.

Please visit the National Gallery, especially in memory of Herb Vogel. I love this:

Mr. Vogel could not always articulate why he liked certain works of art more than others or what he looked for when collecting. Sasaki, the director of the 2008 documentary about the Vogels, ended up focusing the camera on his eyes, which instantly grew wide whenever he saw a new artwork that he admired.

“I just like art,” Mr. Vogel said in 1992. “ I don’t know why I like art. I don’t know why I like nature. I don’t know why I like animals. I don’t know why I even like myself.”

Wow, my mom isn't a professional profiler--in fact, she's often a terrible judge of character--but she has the same knack for evaluating relationships from a distance. It's eerie. But what spoke to me even more was the part about how we all have the capability to profile effectively; we just will ourselves out of using it, and then, when a relationship sours, we acknowledge all the signs we ignored. But there's something to be said for that:

Might I have avoided heartache by heeding my mother’s advice? After all, she was right both times. But a relationship that doesn’t work out isn’t a waste. There is no exact science or crystal ball. Profiling is a surface art; real love isn’t. As Hemingway once said, “The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them.” Likewise, the best way to know if you are meant to be with someone is to be with him.

Sunday morning roundup

When does war start to permeate daily life?

Signs of discontent in China's "part Jersey Shore, part Martha's Vineyard."

Listen up: it's not for the people sitting in the comfort of their own home to pass judgment on people's behavior amid crisis and confusion. We went over this with regard to the late Kevin Carter (I'm talking to you, St. Petersburg Times): either get off your own ass and put it in danger and/or confusion or risk--did the Times launch some sort of response to the famine? or shut the f* up.

What are the implications of global warming for Maine's lobster industry?

Pepco's "f* you" to its victims customers.

Saturday evening roundup: gender roles edition

In light of my rant the other night--or rather, the advice that inspired it--Roger Ebert's words about his wife are all the more heartwarming. Especially, "You never get anywhere with a woman you can't talk intelligently with."

On a related note, Ann Hornaday points out that Hollywood's celebration of strong females fades with their age:

In “Celeste and Jesse Forever,” opening later this summer, Rashida Jones plays a similarly put-together and on-track young woman who, as she navigates a complicated relationship with the far less directed man in her life (played by Andy Samberg), is made to look either uptight, witchily judgmental or miserably alone — before she sees the light and realizes that she’s the problem, what with her intelligence and high expectations and all.

and

As the perky, pliant belle ideal that Dano’s author creates, Ruby Sparks (played by Zoe Kazan) seems to be just the latest iteration of the Manic Pixie Dream Girl, an archetype first discovered and named by Onion film critic Nathan Rabin, who described the recurring character as a “bubbly, shallow cinematic creature that exists solely in the fevered imaginations of sensitive writer-directors to teach broodingly soulful young men to embrace life and its infinite mysteries and adventures...”

“Quirky, messy women whose problems only make them endearing are not real,” one observer tells Dano’s character, adding later, “You haven’t written a person. You’ve written a girl.”

But as clever as “Ruby Sparks” is in puncturing the male wish-fulfillment fantasy of unconditional acceptance and worship, Kazan’s Ruby never gets to be her own fully realized character, instead playing a role similar to that of the Magical Negro, who exists chiefly in order to help the white male hero find transcendence, meaning and the happy ending that was somehow never in doubt.

 and

The man-children of these movies — from Ted and Jesse to the male characters in ”Lola” and “Ruby” — may grow up, but at no real or psychic cost. Their female counterparts, meanwhile, are made to suffer, look needy or ridiculous, or simply accept the fact that it’s their ambitions and aspirations that need curtailing. 

On a more practical note: How to spot a hot metro car. Now tell me how to spot a moldy one.